No one knew what the homeroom teacher had wanted with Guan Qi. He hadn’t come back all through lunch, only rushing into the classroom during afternoon classes.
As soon as the bell rang, Guan Qi blocked Zhou Zhuoyuan’s path. “Let’s talk.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan lifted his eyelids with obvious weariness. “No need.”
Guan Qi, of course, wouldn’t take no for an answer. He stubbornly stood by Zhou Zhuoyuan’s desk, refusing to budge.
At one meter eighty-five, he cut an imposing figure in the aisle.
Zhou Zhuoyuan felt a surge of irritation. He shot to his feet with a scrape of his chair. “Where do you want to talk?”
Guan Qi’s heart leaped with hope. This wasn’t a hopeless situation after all. Zhou Zhuoyuan might have a young master’s temper, but he was easy to placate. Normally, a few soft words were enough to smooth things over when he’d been pushed too far.
He led the way to a quiet corner of the stairwell, a spot where few students ever passed. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air.
After steeling himself for a moment, Guan Qi looked at Zhou Zhuoyuan’s face and stammered, “I-I didn’t know you back then, that’s why I said those things with them. But I’ve cut ties now, really. I even beat them up over it. That’s why the teacher called me in at lunch—I couldn’t come pick you up.”
As he spoke, he pulled a small box from his pocket and pressed it into Zhou Zhuoyuan’s hand. “This is that watch you said you liked. I was going to give it to you for your birthday. Will you take it as my apology? Please don’t be mad anymore.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan opened the box and glanced at the watch. Suddenly, he laughed.
So the Richard Mille that Zhou Zhuoyi had worn on his birthday was from Guan Qi.
He’d skipped school early and ignored Zhou Zhuoyuan’s calls to deliver a birthday gift to Zhou Zhuoyi.
Zhou Zhuoyuan knew full well how much people disliked him. No one around him truly cared. When he fell into trouble, they either gloated or turned a cold shoulder. He’d never pinned his hopes on anyone else.
His phone only had three contacts saved: the driver, Zhu Wan, and Guan Qi.
When Liu Kuo had pinned him to the ground, he hadn’t even called Zhu Wan. Deep down, he knew she wouldn’t abandon Zhou Zhuoyi for his sake. He didn’t want to force the choice, only to be discarded again.
He’d made others choose between him and someone else countless times before. This time, though, Zhou Zhuoyuan was tired of it. So he’d called Guan Qi.
The phone rang three times, then went dead.
That was normal enough—everyone had their own things to do. Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t blame him; he only cursed his own rotten luck.
He hadn’t expected that Guan Qi was ignoring his calls to celebrate Zhou Zhuoyi’s birthday.
Knowing full well how much Zhou Zhuoyuan despised his little brother, he’d gone early to deliver the gift and slipped away before Zhou Zhuoyuan got home.
What a patient guy. Zhou Zhuoyuan had never hidden his loathing for Zhou Zhuoyi, yet Guan Qi had stuck around as his friend for so long.
Not that they were really friends.
Guan Qi watched his expression, growing more uneasy by the second.
Sure enough, Zhou Zhuoyuan snapped the box shut and set it casually on the windowsill. He was still smiling. “When did I ever say I liked watches?”
Guan Qi froze for a beat, panic flickering across his face. “N-No, that’s not it. I thought you’d like it. I figured it’d look good on you…”
Zhou Zhuoyuan’s smile faded, his tone flat. “Don’t bother thinking about me. I don’t deserve something that fancy.”
Guan Qi stared blankly as he walked away, a sharp pang twisting in his chest.
Zhou Zhuoyuan had never talked down about himself like that before.
Dust coated the stairwell windowsill. Guan Qi picked up the box and carefully wiped the smudges from its surface with his sleeve, but the stains lingered stubbornly.
~~~
During evening self-study, the homeroom teacher called Zhou Zhuoyuan out. It wasn’t unusual—senior year was stressful, and teachers often pulled students aside for counseling sessions.
He followed her to the office, expecting a talk about his mental state. Instead, he found someone he never would have anticipated.
Zhou Zhuoli had always kept his distance from him. What was he doing here?
Zhou Zhuoyuan lingered in the doorway, saying nothing.
The homeroom teacher waved him in, exchanged a few polite words with Zhou Zhuoli, and left them alone.
Zhou Zhuoli’s expression was icy. “Somewhere else to talk?”
Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t think they had anything to discuss. “No need. I have to get back to studying.”
When he’d first returned to the Zhou Family, he’d harbored all sorts of unrealistic hopes for this blood brother of his.
After all, Zhou Zhuoyuan had a foster brother back home who bullied him and stole his allowance, relying on their parents’ favoritism. No matter what, his real brother couldn’t be worse than that, could he?
Actually, Zhou Zhuoli had left a very good impression on Zhou Zhuoyuan the first time they met. He was so gentle with Zhou Zhuoyi—even when scolding the boy, his tone carried a hint of indulgence. Zhu Wan had said that no matter how busy he was, Zhou Zhuoli always made time to pick Little Yi up and drop him off every day.
That was why Zhou Zhuoyuan had tried to curry favor with him.
The memory was utterly mortifying now. He had chattered on endlessly, unilaterally sharing every little detail of his life with Zhou Zhuoli. Out of politeness and for Little Yi’s sake, Zhou Zhuoli had humored him with a few vague responses, but Zhou Zhuoyuan hadn’t even realized it.
Eventually, Zhou Zhuoli had reached his limit. One day when Little Yi wasn’t home, he had snapped impatiently, “Are you done yet? I’m not interested in any of your nonsense.”
The blatant disdain and disgust on his face had left Zhou Zhuoyuan flushed with humiliation.
In that moment, Zhou Zhuoyuan suddenly remembered how he had once given Zhou Zhuoli a pair of sneakers and, imitating Little Yi’s coquettish ways, begged him to give him rides too whenever he had time.
Zhou Zhuoli had politely declined without saying anything too harsh. But looking back now, the awkwardness in his eyes stung even more than these blunt insults.
It was as if Zhou Zhuoli had desperately wanted to call him an ugly imitator but held back because they weren’t close enough.
That was when Zhou Zhuoyuan realized just how unwelcome he truly was in this house.
Zhou Zhuoli reserved all his gentleness and patience for Little Yi. He was different from the others—he knew the truth. He knew Zhou Zhuoyuan was his one and only blood brother. And yet he ignored him all the same.
It didn’t matter. Brothers had always been optional in Zhou Zhuoyuan’s life anyway. He wasn’t the type to suffer in silence. If others despised him, he gave them no warmth in return. From then on, he stopped hiding his resentment toward Little Yi, and his relationship with Zhou Zhuoli only grew more hostile.
By the time Zhou Zhuoyuan finally fled the Zhou Family, the two of them had barely exchanged a private word.
Thank goodness he had run fast. If he’d waited for Zhou Zhuoli to snap out of it, he might not have survived.
Hearing Zhou Zhuoyuan’s equally icy reply, Zhou Zhuoli frowned. But with no one else in the office and the cameras switched off, he let it drop. “Your homeroom teacher said you just moved into the dorms and managed to give yourself a fever bad enough to land in the hospital?”
“I gave myself a fever?” Zhou Zhuoyuan’s anger ignited like a spark to dry tinder. He itched to fire back but decided it wasn’t worth it. Instead, he let out a scornful laugh. “Did the teacher call home? Is that why you’re here?”
Zhou Zhuoli replied gravely, “No. Mom and Dad sent me to check if you’re missing anything.”
In truth, their parents had told him to see if Zhou Zhuoyuan regretted leaving—if he did, bring him home; if not, at least find out what he needed. But Zhou Zhuoyuan had left of his own accord for once, and Zhou Zhuoli had no intention of letting him return to stir up chaos in the house or pose a threat to Little Yi.
He had volunteered for this errand precisely to keep their parents from dragging the little pest back themselves.
Zhou Zhuoyuan could read the impatience plain as day, and it fueled his hatred. But he didn’t dare entertain any wild thoughts—the System’s punishments were too terrifying. The last one had stolen his health. What if this time it took his intelligence instead? Without his wits, his life would be over.
【…Please stop with the malicious speculation.】
Swallowing his bitterness, Zhou Zhuoyuan brushed it off. “I don’t need anything. If that’s all, you can head back now.”
Zhou Zhuoli didn’t budge. “Why on earth would you push yourself to a fever like that? You’re almost an adult. Don’t you know how hard it is for some people just to stay alive?”
Zhou Zhuoyuan nearly laughed out of sheer fury. Of course he knew how hard it was for some to simply live well. He’d spent five years scraping by at the bottom, watching people exhaust themselves for a single meal. He’d seen families bankrupted by illness, forced to choose between their future and a loved one’s life—choosing death. He’d witnessed hardworking souls cut down by freak accidents just as they neared a peaceful retirement.
The suffering he’d seen and endured outweighed every meal the Zhou Family had ever eaten. Who was this silver-spoon kid Zhou Zhuoli to lecture him from on high?
Zhou Zhuoyuan had never taken his possessions for granted. Had he wanted the fever? Did he enjoy the pounding headaches and waves of nausea? What kind of lunatic would think he was pulling this stunt for attention?
But he wasn’t about to argue with Zhou Zhuoli over whether the illness was deliberate—it would look like he cared what the man thought. And besides, explaining himself would smack of weakness just the same.
He would never show weakness to Zhou Zhuoli.
Gritting his teeth, Zhou Zhuoyuan spat, “None of your damn business!”
To Zhou Zhuoli, it just confirmed the guilty outburst of someone caught red-handed. He rubbed his brow wearily. “Do whatever you want. But I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed this time—Teacher Gu already filled me in. She won’t be telling Mom and Dad again.”
The unspoken implication was that he would keep the matter hushed up, and since Zhou Zhuoyuan cared so much about his reputation, he certainly wouldn’t go running to their parents to make a big fuss about it himself.
This played right into Zhou Zhuoyuan’s hands, saving him a ton of trouble. The anger that had surged up moments ago ebbed away somewhat, and he replied with strained politeness, “Hehe.”
Zhou Zhuoli missed the sarcasm entirely and let out a sigh. “Everyone’s swamped. We don’t have time to play along with your antics.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan let out a cold sneer. “Is your time the only thing that’s precious? Did I beg you to come visit me? If this messes up my college entrance exams, can you even compensate me for that?”
With a temper like that and zero clue—immune to both kid gloves and tough love—his own flesh-and-blood little brother really didn’t have a single likable thing about him from head to toe. Zhou Zhuoli lost all interest in talking to him.
Before leaving, he fixed Zhou Zhuoyuan with a deep, piercing look. “Don’t do anything extraneous again. I won’t let you hurt Little Yi anymore.”
Idiot.
Zhou Zhuoyuan cursed to himself.
