Blood ties are determined by fate, something beyond her control, but lovers, now that was a choice she could make herself. From the moment she kissed Fang Jingcheng, she should have prepared herself for the outcome—if, one day, he discovered her embarrassment and scorned or despised her, she would have to swallow that bitter fruit with grace.

With this determination in mind, the moment she found out her mom had called Fang Jingcheng, Xia Fu gave up on the relationship, hoping to avoid adding more sadness to her already bleak reality.

There was nothing left to lose and nothing to hope for.

From her past experience dealing with Bao Zhiwei, Xia Fu knew that provoking men like him would lead to fierce retaliation. If the attack failed and he got his hands on that bookmark, a scarred face might just be the lightest of consequences.

She had resigned herself to letting everything go, never expecting to be held in her lover’s arms again. With a gentleness akin to a clumsy first-time father handling a newborn, he carefully wiped her tears with his thumb, supporting her back as he said, “It’s not like that; you’re not low, you were never a joke. It’s okay, it’s okay…”

This comfort only made Xia Fu cry even harder. She buried her face in Fang Jingcheng’s chest, her fingers clutching his collar as she choked on her sobs.

She had been ready to give up, to throw away her dignity, accepting it if her life was a joke. Yet here he was, fully facing her brokenness.

So why did it hurt so much now that someone was trying to make things right?

That fleeting light in the alley had finally stopped for her today. If this warm Fang Jingcheng wasn’t a figment of her imagination, then the voice she’d just heard surely belonged to someone who had also come to the scene. Xia Fu mumbled the person’s name as she steadied herself and looked back:

“Teacher Li…”

“Li Aiying!”

Simultaneously with her murmur, Xia Biao’s angry roar filled the air. A small, middle-aged woman stood with hands on her hips between Xia Biao and Xia Fu, wearing a rust-red short-sleeved shirt. She stood firm like a flame flickering in Xia Fu’s eyes.

With that distinctive head of silver hair, Xia Biao recognized Fang Jingcheng in a single glance. This brat had barged into his home like a mad dog and had floored Chen Xinhong when he tried to fight back, becoming the biggest obstacle in his plan. He’d seen the chat history; Xia Fu hadn’t given out their address. For an outsider to find this place so quickly, it wasn’t luck.

Glaring at the instigator before him, fury flared in his chest as he shouted:

“You’re a high school teacher! Instead of teaching, you’re leading some punk to stir up trouble at my house! Watch it, or I’ll report you to the school!”

The woman showed no sign of fear; despite her small frame, her presence was daunting. With her usual stern expression, she inspired a quiet authority, which led students to call her “Li Mochou” in private.

She scoffed coldly, frowning as she managed to suppress Xia Biao’s forceful presence.

“Go ahead! Report me! I’m the one who should report you! I borrowed money from you for my student’s living expenses. When the school signed that agreement, it was for her tuition so she could go to college! Who gave you the right to keep her locked up at home, let alone trade her happiness for money?!”

When it came to money matters, even a hardened man like Xia Biao faltered. He hesitated for a moment, embarrassed by being confronted by a woman in front of everyone. He pointed his finger at Li Aiying’s nose and said, “Education, education! Who says education guarantees a good future? Even if she’s not married, she’ll still rely on her parents! Money aside, move out of the way!” He moved his other hand towards her shoulder, clearly ready to resort to force if words failed.

Just before he could lay a finger on her, a man in a white tank top, sporting a buzz cut, shot out a hand, blocking him. A silver whistle dangled from his chest.

Though Fang Jingcheng was fit and trained in boxing, he was still a college student. Li Aiying couldn’t let a “child” be responsible for holding the scene. She’d come prepared, bringing along a fellow PE teacher she knew.

“Hey, hey, hey! Talk it out properly! A grown man, and all you can do is bully women and kids? Aren’t you ashamed?” The man shouted.

Although he usually took sick days or found excuses to skip out on classes, he was dependable when it counted. He was the one who had caught Fang Jingcheng when he’d climbed over the school gate during winter break, along with a few students preparing for athletic school entrance exams.

Faced with him, the usually unruly Xia Biao finally stopped in his tracks. Switching to a more submissive tone, he mumbled, “Fine, fine, I’m a brute; I can’t argue with you! Zhang Mei, look! Your daughter’s teacher is here for a visit!” He cast a glance at his wife.

Meanwhile, Xia Fu’s birth mother was anxiously crouching by the door, focused solely on her injured son. She didn’t even hear Xia Biao’s call.

“Changqing, Changqing! Can you hear me? Do we need to go to the hospital?” She asked as she gently supported him.

And the tall man, leaning on his mother’s shoulder like a child, held his swollen cheek as he whimpered pitifully, “Oh, Mom, I’m bleeding so much; my tooth, my tooth might fall out.”

Xia Biao was usually busy with work, returning home only to slump on the couch to watch TV and drink, leaving all household chores, child-rearing, and elderly care to his wife, Zhang Mei. She had shared her burdens and worries about poverty and daily struggles with Li Aiying during a school visit, explaining how her husband’s bad temper and the constant struggle left her with little energy for her daughter.

“Yeah, I know Xia Fu’s sensible, and girls are more sensitive, but you know how stubborn he can be. I really can’t help it. After all, a father just doesn’t want his child to go astray. He means well… Things will get better once we get past this.”

As a fellow woman, Li Aiying understood the difficulties Zhang Mei faced in this type of household. In this small town, even getting Xia Fu through high school was a huge effort, and this was the only way she could protect her student.

But if she waited, and waited some more, would that day of reconciliation truly come? Would a delayed apology heal all this heartache?

On one side was the son in new clothes; on the other was a daughter on the verge of collapse.

Watching this heartwarming display between mother and son, Li Aiying felt her heart go cold.

She sighed and firmly instructed Fang Jingcheng, “Xiao Fang! Take Xia Fu and leave! Leave the rest to the adults!”

Even without this explicit command, Fang Jingcheng had already planned to do so.

After all, staying in this hellhole for even one more second would only cause Xia Fu more mental and emotional harm.

Seeing this unknown punk about to escape with his “prize,” Chen Xinhong, who had been clutching his stomach on the ground, perked up instantly.

He scrambled to his feet, pulling out his phone and swearing, “You think you can just leave after hitting me? Today, no one’s getting out! You brat, do you even know who I am? Just wait—I’m calling my people to mess you up!” He glared at Fang Jingcheng, a full head taller, like an infuriated gopher.

But Xia Fu knew that Boss Chen’s threats were not idle. He had plenty of able-bodied young men working at his 4S store. And to be able to run a business here and retrieve Xia Changqing’s debts so swiftly, he likely had his own connections.

No matter how much of a big shot Fang Jingcheng was in S City, even a dragon would have trouble in a local’s domain. And if things dragged on, she feared even more for Teacher Li’s safety.

Anxious, Xia Fu looked at Fang Jingcheng’s expression. Calmly, he smoothed out her messy hair, his tone cold and distant. “Go on, make the call,” he said.

To be honest, Fang Jingcheng’s mood was far from as calm as it appeared.

Usually, he enjoyed putting on a bit of a show for others, even saving Xia Fu from Bao Zhiwei had a performative aspect to it. He carefully designed every move, every shout, like a righteous hero from a novel, plotting each smirk, each sigh, as if he were a snake sliding from a tree branch, crafty yet dangerous, just enough to deceive any dorm supervisor or security guard in his way.

But hearing his lover’s desperate sobs beyond the door, his body had acted faster than his brain. To make her realize her importance, to openly acknowledge her? None of that mattered now. Knocking these jerks to the ground, making sure she never had to cry in despair like that again—nothing else mattered.

So why did this guy still have the nerve to keep flailing around?

Unlike his soft-spoken brother Fang Siyu, who handled things calmly and indifferently, Fang Jingcheng was not one to stand idly by. If not for Xia Fu’s teacher standing right there, this “black pig” would likely have been a bloody mess by now.

Stay calm, stay calm… but if he was going to take Xia Fu away, he needed to settle things properly. Taking a deep breath, Fang Jingcheng asked, “After everything you’ve done, do you really have the time to keep tangling with me?” His lips curled into a chilling smile, looking eerily similar to his brother’s cold yet handsome face.

With a menacing smirk, Chen Xinhong dialed his phone, mistaking Fang Jingcheng’s calm as youthful arrogance, eagerly taunting back, “Yeah, yeah, bring everyone you got! I’m at Xia Changqing’s new place, and this brat took me down!”

“But wait! Is something wrong? You saying Li Ge just showed up at the shop? Well, good! Let me talk to him.”

One unexpected turn after another, with Xia Fu’s resistance and Fang Jingcheng’s intervention, made Chen Xinhong question his luck today. Hearing his contact’s angry voice, he deflated like a wilting flower under the sun, visibly shrinking before everyone’s eyes. Covering his phone with his chubby hand, he muttered, his lips moving in panicked gasps, “Li Ge! Long time no see, just ran into a bit of trouble, that’s all. Eh? You said what? What’s going on?”

Chen Xinhong’s small eyes darted back and forth between Fang Jingcheng, a look of utter shock on his face. As Fang Jingcheng walked past him, Chen instinctively shrank back.

The two crossed paths, and Chen Xinhong heard Fang Jingcheng’s calm murmur, “Don’t worry; we’ll settle this one way or another.”

From that moment on, the tide began turning irreversibly. Even Xia Biao, who prided himself on being a down-to-earth local, could see the situation was becoming critical. He stood stiffly, not daring to obstruct Fang Jingcheng.

Zhang Mei, however, paid no attention to any of this.

Years ago, she had aborted two daughters in hopes of giving the Xia family a son. When Xia Fu was still a girl during her prenatal checkup, she cried, fearing another abortion would ruin her chances of having children. But a neighbor had recommended a fortune teller, who calculated, “If you bear a daughter, your son will follow. She’s destined to be his blessing.”

Clinging to this bit of hope, Zhang Mei had kept the baby. When Xia Fu was born, things indeed improved. Sensible and smart, Xia Fu willingly took care of her little brother, holding his hand like his biggest support.

It was all meant to be this way; the fortune teller had said Xia Fu would bring luck to her brother. This was her purpose for being born!

With teary eyes, Zhang Mei clutched her daughter’s pant leg and asked, “Where are you going? You can’t just leave your brother like this.”

Lowering her gaze, Xia Fu looked at her mother, just like in the countless nights before, reaching out toward her brother obediently.

Surprised and excited, Xia Changqing called, “Sis?” and reached for her hand, only to have her pull away and grab at his denim jacket, tugging it hard.

“Give it back.”

The small, battered bird broke free from her mother’s grasp, reclaiming her wings.