Chapter 31: Zhou Zhuoyuan: He needs to eat more and recover faster

“This guy…” Zhou Zhuoli muttered under his breath. He set the bag down on the table and took a seat.

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s desk was sparse, holding just a few books and some cheap knick-knacks. Zhou Zhuoli glanced around idly, concluding that his brother truly had no flair for fun—the trinkets looked like event prizes or promotional freebies.

When his gaze settled on a black box perched at the edge of the second shelf, Zhou Zhuoli let out a puzzled “Huh?” and picked it up.

It was a limited-edition game console. Not pricey, but notoriously hard to snag. Years ago, when Zhou Zhuoyi had wanted one, Zhou Zhuoli had called in plenty of favors to get it for him.

“Don’t touch my stuff,” came Zhou Zhuoyuan’s hoarse voice from behind him.

Zhou Zhuoli held up the console. “What’s this?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan stared at the rather ugly device for a long moment before his expression shifted abruptly. “Give it back! It’s mine!”

With a casual toss, Zhou Zhuoli dropped the console onto the table. “Fine, fine—I was just looking. Why would I want this thing? I snagged one for Little Yi back in the day. It was a nightmare to get. How’d you score yours?”

Propping himself up with effort, Zhou Zhuoyuan yelled at him, “It’s mine! I bought it myself! I didn’t steal it from him!”

Zhou Zhuoli was utterly baffled. “I never said you stole anything. Why are you snapping again out of nowhere?”

As expected.

Zhou Zhuoyuan balled his fists, huffing and puffing like a young calf. “I’m not a thief! I bought it myself!”

Zhou Zhuoli had no idea what to do with his brother’s mule-headed stubbornness. “I didn’t call you a thief. Can we just drop it?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan locked eyes with him for a beat before issuing a command. “Hand it to me.”

Puzzled but compliant, Zhou Zhuoli did as asked.

In the next instant, the console whistled past his ear and smashed against the wall, shattering into bits.

Zhou Zhuoli flinched in shock, anger creeping into his voice. “What the hell’s your problem now?”

“It’s my stuff,” Zhou Zhuoyuan replied, his face dark and his words clipped. “I can do whatever I want with it.”

He had shelled out top dollar for a secondhand limited-edition console identical to Little Yi’s, deluding himself that it would make him feel equally cherished. Truth was, he hated it—barely played it for half a day before letting it collect dust.

Better to obliterate this laughable testament to his own pitiable desperation.

It took Zhou Zhuoli a long moment to find his voice. “I was just glancing at it. Didn’t even open the thing. You really that grossed out?”

Evidently misreading the situation, he sounded more and more hard done by. “You borrowed my tablet for ages back then, and I never complained.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan couldn’t care less about his interpretation. “Get out.”

It was like he’d ground the corn and then slaughtered the donkey—plain as day on his face.

The room’s warm lighting cast a glow on the two of them, yet their expressions grew darker by the second.

Zhou Zhuoli headed for the door, tempted to slam it in frustration but settling for a gentle close instead.

Once alone, Zhou Zhuoyuan clapped a hand over his mouth and dissolved into a fit of wrenching coughs. He hadn’t even caught his breath when Zhou Zhuoli reappeared, small table in arms.

Guilt must have gotten the better of him, because this time Zhou Zhuoli didn’t ditch his sick brother, no matter how pissed. He arranged the table and food with care. “Won’t touch your things anymore. Can you manage eating by yourself?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan hadn’t anticipated his return. Cough-induced tears streamed down his cheeks.

Zhou Zhuoli hesitated, his tone softening. “All right, I’ll feed you…”

With a fierce snatch, Zhou Zhuoyuan grabbed the bowl and chopsticks, glaring daggers. “I don’t need you!”

The food suited his taste this time, so nausea stayed at bay. Still, fever dulled his appetite; half a bowl of rice was all he could stomach.

Zhou Zhuoli tidied up and turned to go when Zhou Zhuoyuan spoke. “I’m not thanking you. I never asked you to cover for me—and you forced me to come back anyway.”

He had spotted the palm print on Zhou Zhuoli’s face.

The knife scars hadn’t fully faded; any doctor would clock it instantly. Yesterday’s meltdown had clouded his judgment, but today it clicked: Zhou Zhuoli hadn’t ratted him out. He wanted the whole mess hushed up too.

~~~

That meal must have given him a boost, because by evening Zhou Zhuoyuan was far more lively. He claimed the dinner table first.

Zhu Wan approached upon seeing him and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Didn’t I say I’d bring food to your room? Midday’s wake-up call not enough?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan rested his hands neatly on his knees, submitting to her touch with perfect compliance. “I’m better now. I want to head to school tomorrow.”

Her words clashed with her gentle gesture. “Out of the question. Don’t even dream about it.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s heart plummeted. Stammering, he said, “But the Final Joint Exam is coming up…”

Zhu Wan pulled out a chair and sat down beside him. “You don’t have to take the exam.”

It turned out that tricks like pretending to be sweet and obedient only worked for certain people—and Zhu Wan had seen right through his true colors long ago. “Don’t even think about sneaking out the window, either. I saw you poking around there on the surveillance footage today.”

The ever-fair Zhu Wan let out a sigh. “Zhuoyuan, Mom knows you’re not a bad kid. Just think it over carefully: was what you did this time really right? You promised you could take care of yourself, and that’s the only reason we let you live on campus. But the facts prove you just don’t have the ability to do it, do they?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan showed no reaction at all to her gentle lecture. Pale-faced, he simply stared at the dinner table in front of him.

He needed to eat more—to recover his health a little faster.