Boyfriend Always Thinks I’m a Little Pitiful
Boyfriend Always Thinks I’m a Little Pitiful Chapter 11

A dull thud came from upstairs, and something rolled down the stairs, accompanied by Chen Zhanpeng’s beast-like howls and cries, like a giant baby that hadn’t grown up yet.

Chen Xinhong heard the commotion and glared at Xie Ci, his face dark: “Are you satisfied now?”

“Why are you doing this to us?! Haven’t we treated you well enough?!”

Ye Yuru cried out again, her hands pounding on the armrest of the sofa, her tone unusually sharp. “Do you know how much effort we put in to get Pengpeng into Yizhong?! You’ve ruined everything! You’ve ruined his life!”

Mentioning this made Xie Ci remember that Chen Zhanpeng didn’t get into Yizhong on his own merit; Chen Xinhong had used connections and spent a lot of money to get him in. It was simply because he chose Yizhong that they couldn’t allow their son to be worse off than him.

Xie Ci walked toward the staircase, his expression indifferent: “If you keep this attitude with me, I can ruin your lives too.”

This casual remark shocked Chen Xinhong and his wife, who looked at him in disbelief as he went upstairs.

Not long ago, he was still a child they could manipulate, but how had he changed so much recently, becoming someone to be feared?

The next day, Saturday, Xie Ci’s biological clock was spot on. He woke up at six-thirty and went back to sleep until eight.

When he went downstairs, he heard voices coming from the living room on the first floor.

A group of neighbors had brought milk and other consolation gifts to visit Chen Zhanpeng. Ye Yuru was receiving them, her makeup done, but she still looked haggard.

“I heard your Pengpeng broke his leg. Is it serious? He’s in his senior year; it would be bad if it affects his studies.”

“I heard he was expelled from Yizhong? What kind of situation is this? You should quickly use your connections; maybe there’s still a chance to turn things around. At worst, just spend a little more money.”

“Is it true that Pengpeng borrowed money from loan sharks? Did he get into a fight with someone using a knife? That’s too dangerous!”

“The poor child, with a broken leg, can’t even continue his studies. If he’s expelled from Yizhong, other decent high schools in the city won’t take him!”

The beautiful illusion was shattered, and the perfect image Ye Yuru had maintained for years crumbled. Nothing was more painful for her than this.

Her face was difficult to read, and occasionally she would chime in, asking if they had any connections, but the group of neighbors would just start talking about something else.

These people, with their concerned expressions, were prying into others’ family matters, not out of worry for you, but to confirm that you were indeed doing poorly, which would satisfy them.

Xie Ci glanced at them and lost interest in listening further. Ignoring everyone’s gazes, he walked straight out the door.

He first bought a leash and then searched the neighborhood, finally finding Xiao Fang being fed in someone’s yard.

“Aunt Wu.” Xie Ci walked up to her door.

The middle-aged woman, called Aunt Wu, heard his voice and hurried to open the iron gate. “Xiao Ci, here to see Xiao Fang? Come in!”

Xiao Fang, hearing Xie Ci’s voice, dropped its food bowl and ran to rub against his leg, its face full of joy.

Xie Ci patted the sturdy dog’s head and said to Aunt Wu, “I found an adoptive family for it. I’m planning to take it over today.”

Aunt Wu smiled brightly. “That’s great! I was worried about how it would get through this winter. My son is allergic to dog hair, so we really can’t keep it.”

After Xiao Fang finished eating, Xie Ci put the leash on it.

When saying goodbye, Aunt Wu was reluctant and went inside to bring out a bag of pork ribs, insisting that Xie Ci take it.

Since he couldn’t take a bus with a pet, Xie Ci took a taxi to Nanling District, getting out on a remote and quiet street forty minutes later.

Originally, there was a private kindergarten by the roadside, but after being acquired, it was transformed, retaining only the basic structure of the campus. It was now a art studio.

Xie Ci glanced at the sign next to the door that read “Jianyan Studio” and led the dog inside.

“Are you Xie Ci?”

Hearing his name, Xie Ci looked over to see a boy about his age, holding a game console, who had been squatting in the corner playing games. Upon seeing him, he stood up to greet him.

“Who are you?” Xie Ci casually replied.

“My name is Xie Jinlin. I just transferred to Yizhong, Class 1 of the second year this semester.”

Xie Jinlin said excitedly, “I’m your fan! I transferred from Erzhong to Yizhong just to watch you play! I can’t believe I ran into you here; what a coincidence! Can you give me an autograph?”

Xie Ci looked at this silly kid chattering away and politely declined the autograph. Just as he was about to walk inside, he caught sight of a group of well-dressed people coming out from inside.

Leading them was an old man in his sixties or seventies, leaning on a cane, flanked by four burly men dressed like bodyguards.

“Jinlin, let’s go.”

The old man had a stern expression, looking quite unhappy. He glanced at Xie Ci, seemingly indifferent, and was escorted out the door by the group.

“Coming, Grandpa!”

Xie Jinlin responded and turned to Xie Ci, saying, “Senior, I have to go. See you at school next time.”

Xie Ci nodded lightly, watching as the grandfather and grandson got into a Rolls Royce parked by the roadside.

If he remembered correctly, this should be the head of the Xie family in Lanhai City, Xie Hongguang.

The Xie family was involved in multiple fields, including healthcare, technology, real estate, and finance, and at this point in time, their scale was comparable to the Gu family.

In the Gu family’s structure, overseas markets accounted for half, while the Xie family was like a local snake; if only considering the domestic market, the Xie family had a more solid foundation than the Gu family.

However, the Xie family was internally chaotic, with upper management stagnant, mid-level staff lacking real power, and the younger generation’s reforms blocked. They had made several wrong decisions in crucial moments, and within less than ten years, they had fallen from grace, becoming unrecognizable.

Watching the car drive away, Xie Ci didn’t think much of it. He went up to the second floor via the metal staircase and knocked on the tightly closed door.

“I’ve told you so many times, the teacher is not seeing anyone! Please go back—”

The door opened, and the person inside spoke politely but impatiently. Upon seeing it was Xie Ci, his expression immediately changed. “Is it Xiao Ci? Come in!”

“Brother Yang.”

Xie Ci greeted him and led Xiao Fang inside.

This man, in his thirties and looking quite gentle, was named Yang Le, and he was his father’s assistant.

After his father passed away, Yang Le went to develop in Country D, and since they had only met a few times at art exhibitions, he and Xie Ci had hardly seen each other more than five times.

“Is this your dog? So cute.”

Yang Le squatted down to pet Xiao Fang’s head, then invited Xie Ci to sit down, bringing over some tea and snacks. “You sit for a bit; the teacher is in the studio. I’ll go call him! He’ll be so happy to know you’re here!”

“No need.”

Xie Ci stopped him. “Just help me keep an eye on Xiao Fang; I’ll go find him myself.”

Yang Le was slightly taken aback but hesitantly nodded. “Okay.”

Xie Ci poured the pork ribs he brought into a plate and set it in front of Xiao Fang before getting up to leave.

The backyard had a separate bungalow that used to be the kindergarten’s kitchen but had been converted into his father’s exclusive studio.

To get to the backyard, he had to cross a gallery of several dozen meters, with many oil paintings hanging on both sides, most of which were works by his father’s students.

In both this life and the last, Xie Ci had never really looked at these paintings; he couldn’t face them.

He had been abandoned by his parents, who had given him life but not raised him. He didn’t want to pay attention to anything about them. If possible, he would prefer to never have any contact with them again.

After his father returned to the country, he would visit him almost every month, but Xie Ci would always avoid him, preferring to endure abuse at his aunt’s house rather than seek help from them.

What good would it do for them to visit him? He would leave soon anyway; it was just for show. If they truly cared for him, they wouldn’t have left him behind.

No one could be relied upon; he only had himself.

After graduating high school in his previous life, he went to the city where his university was to work summer jobs to earn living expenses. At that time, he received a call from his father, saying he wanted to have a meal together to celebrate his acceptance into university.

His response was—”I can’t eat if I’m sitting at the same table as you.”

Little did he know, that would be the last thing he ever said to his father.

Three days later, he received a call from his aunt, saying his father had committed suicide.

His aunt was sobbing uncontrollably on the phone, blaming him for pushing his father to the edge.

He didn’t even attend the funeral; he couldn’t accept it.

He, the “victim,” hadn’t thought of dying, while that “perpetrator” had died first. What right did he have to die first?

It wasn’t until many years later, at an art exhibition in Country D, when he ran into Yang Le and the topic came up again, that Xie Ci learned his father hadn’t committed suicide but had died in an accident.

His father had suffered from depression, and in the last year, he was often in a daze. When he went to the warehouse to get his painting tools, something fell from above, and he didn’t have time to dodge, hitting a vital spot. By the time Yang Le found him and took him to the hospital, it was already too late.

Xie Ci stopped in front of a painting. From here on were his father’s works, Xie Qian, whose style gradually became extreme and whose use of color was incredibly bold.

On the last painting in the corridor, thick fog almost covered the entire canvas, and even the small flame that existed was about to extinguish.

Xie Ci only glanced at it, feeling as if he were being sucked into the painting, falling into an endless abyss. The sensation of weightlessness and the bone-deep loneliness made it hard for him to breathe.

This was a piece his father had created five years ago; he was probably already mentally unstable by then.

Walking down the external corridor, crossing the garden, Xie Ci stood under a ginkgo tree, gazing at the studio five meters away.

The studio had heavy curtains drawn, with only a small gap open, allowing sunlight to filter through.

A middle-aged man with long hair and a scruffy beard sat in that beam of light, painting.

In his youth, he couldn’t understand why his father, who was filled with hatred and only knew how to paint, had time to paint but not to take care of him. Now he understood.

Some people can only do one thing well in their entire lives.

From this middle-aged man before him, Xie Ci saw his own reflection—extremely focused on his career, yet making a mess of his life.

He had struggled for half his life, ultimately becoming the very person he despised the most.

After calming his emotions, Xie Ci walked to the tightly closed door of the studio and knocked a few times.

After a long while with no response, Xie Ci tried to push it open, and it easily swung open.

The studio was a mess, with various frames and painting tools scattered everywhere, leaving almost no space to stand.

Even after he entered the room, the person immersed in his painting didn’t react, as if he couldn’t hear the noise at all.

Xie Ci stood at the door, watching him. After a moment, he softly called out, “Dad.”

The person behind the easel finally looked up, glancing at Xie Ci, and a look of surprise instantly appeared on his numb face.

“Xiao Ci?!”

Xie Qian hurriedly got up, and in his fluster, he kicked the easel.

“Be careful!” Xie Ci wanted to go help, but Xie Qian fell to the ground first, getting paint all over himself.

Xie Ci: “…”

What a total mess.

Ten minutes later, the father and son were sitting in the reception room on the second floor.

Yang Le had brought a first aid kit and was squatting in front of the sofa, treating the bruise on Xie Qian’s knee.

Xie Ci sat in a nearby armchair, petting Xiao Fang’s head, looking at Xie Qian, who was staring at him eagerly, and said, “You don’t need to come to my house to find me anymore. Starting next Monday, I’ll be living at school.”

As he said the first half of the sentence, he saw the light in Xie Qian’s eyes quickly fade. But when he mentioned the second half, the light returned.

Xie Ci had never realized he had such a big impact on others.

“Living at school, huh.”

Xie Qian clasped his hands tightly in front of him, as if trying hard to find a topic to talk about. “Living at school is good. I lived at school during my senior year too. So if I want to see you, should I go to school?”

“No need. As long as I don’t have plans on the weekends, I’ll come here.”

As he spoke, Xie Ci gently patted Xiao Fang’s head. “After I start living at school, I won’t have time to take care of it. I want to leave it here. If you can’t take care of it, let Brother Yang check in on it when he has time. It’s very well-behaved; just give it some food.”

“Okay! I’m free, I can take care of it!”

Xie Qian quickly agreed, as if afraid Xie Ci would suddenly change his mind, and cautiously probed, “Will you come here to stay on weekends? Then should I prepare a room for you?”

Xie Ci nodded, not refusing.

Xie Qian seemed energized, immediately asking Yang Le to arrange the schedule, planning to go buy furniture that afternoon.

“No need to buy anything special; just a bed will do.”

As Xie Ci spoke, he noticed Xie Qian’s fingers were slightly trembling. Frowning, he asked, “What’s wrong with your hand? Did you hurt it earlier?”

Yang Le noticed and got up to fetch some medicine and a cup of warm water.

“No need, I’m fine.” Xie Qian didn’t want to waste the rare time with his son, not even giving Yang Le a glance, clearly refusing to take the medicine.

“If you don’t take the medicine, your condition will only get worse,” Yang Le urged.

Xie Qian was a bit angry that Yang Le brought this up in front of his son: “I’m not sick; what medicine should I take?”

Xie Ci watched this unfold, tapping his fingers lightly on the armrest of the sofa: “Take it or not?”

Xie Ci’s expression darkened, and Xie Qian immediately complied, taking the medicine and preparing to swallow it.

“Wait, have you eaten? You can’t take medicine on an empty stomach.” Xie Ci looked at Yang Le. “Brother Yang, could you please get my dad something to eat?”

Yang Le, seeing that Xie Ci could keep Xie Qian in check, happily agreed: “Sure!”

“Don’t go to so much trouble.”

Xie Qian grabbed a corner of the low table where the boiled pork ribs were placed. “I’ll just nibble on this to get by.”

Xie Ci: “That’s for the dog!”

Xie Qian: “……”

Lost Nexus[Translator]

Hi, I’m Lost Nexus or call me Nex! I translate web novels into English so more people can enjoy these amazing stories.

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