Chapter 11: The School Bully (11)

“Xiao Qian, it’s time for bed.”

Yu Qian lounged on the sofa, her small belly slightly protruding. “I don’t want to sleep yet.”

She had already slept plenty due to her fever earlier and had taken another nap after returning from shopping. Plus, having eaten too much baked yogurt, her stomach still felt bloated, making sleep elusive.

Mrs. Wen gave her a knowing look. “Alright then, let’s wait for your father to come back before bed.”

At ten o’clock, Zai Ye returned.

Mrs. Wen walked to the door. “You’re back! Xiao Qian has been waiting to sleep with you. This child is quite attached to you—she insisted on waiting for your return before going to bed.”

Zai Ye’s expression showed surprise, and a hint of pleasure crossed his face, though he tried to remain casual. “I’ve been taking care of her for several days. She’s not used to me being away.”

Mrs. Wen smiled knowingly. “Indeed.” His reaction amused her.

Zai Ye walked to the sofa, blocking Yu Qian’s view of the television.

Yu Qian frowned. “?” Before she could turn her head to look around him, she found herself hoisted up by her armpits.

Even the most handsome man smells unpleasant when sweaty. Suffocated by the sweaty odor, Yu Qian instinctively leaned away, only to be pulled back by Zai Ye.

“Listen carefully: if anyone bullies you in the future, you must tell me,” Zai Ye said seriously.

Trapped in the sweaty embrace of the high schooler, Yu Qian squirmed frantically. “Aaaaah!”

Zai Ye’s expression turned stern. “You’re only two years old—how can you be rebellious already?”

“Ughhh!” Yu Qian protested.

Hearing the commotion, Mrs. Wen came over, rescuing Yu Qian from his arms and shooing him off to take a shower.

After cleaning up, the now-fresh and handsome Zai Ye returned to the sofa, turning off the TV with one hand while scooping up the child with the other. “Time for bed.”

Earlier, when Mrs. Wen had asked twice, Yu Qian had refused to sleep. Now when Zai Ye didn’t ask and simply carried her away, she didn’t resist—mainly because her TV program had just ended.

“Alright, close your eyes now.”

Yu Qian lay on her side and obediently shut her eyes. After waiting ten minutes, Zai Ye, thinking she had fallen asleep, quietly sat up, grabbed his phone, put on headphones, and started gaming.

No young person could sleep this early—he’d play a few rounds first.

As the in-game battle grew intense, Zai Ye gradually forgot about the sleeping child beside him. After being backstabbed by a teammate, he couldn’t help cursing: “****! ***!”

Suddenly sensing something, he glanced to the side and met Yu Qian’s bright, alert eyes. Her large eyes glowed in the darkness like a cat’s.

Startled, Zai Ye’s hand slipped, misusing a skill.

Then Yu Qian spoke: “***!”

Zai Ye dropped his phone and quickly covered her mouth. “Don’t copy that!”

But children are natural mimics—learning from their surroundings is their nature. Seeing his reaction, Yu Qian happily repeated the curse.

Zai Ye sighed in resignation. “Fine. Just use those words when someone bullies you.”

He picked up his phone and resumed gaming. Yu Qian crawled out from under the blanket, squatting beside him to watch. As she observed, her head gradually came to rest against his arm.

Zai Ye’s fingers moved rapidly across the screen. Noticing her concentrated expression, he suddenly moved the phone in front of her. “You try.”

The match was already lost thanks to his teammates anyway.

Yu Qian enthusiastically jabbed at the screen with her finger. Through one of Zai Ye’s earphones came the distressed voice of his basketball teammate, a tall, skinny boy: “Brother Ye, what’s wrong with you suddenly? Why are you dancing in the middle of the road?! Even though we’re definitely going to lose this round, you don’t have to give up like this!”

“Brother Ye, did you suddenly switch to playing with your feet?!”

Ignoring his teammate’s exasperation, Zai Ye adjusted Yu Qian’s tiny finger, guiding her. “This way.”

But the child quickly lost interest in the game. After Zai Ye finished another round, he discovered she had fallen asleep against his side.

With Mrs. Wen helping to care for Yu Qian during the day, Zai Ye could finally attend school. Never had he felt that going to school could be such a relief.

But such peaceful days wouldn’t last long. Mrs. Wen’s current husband was bringing their second child back to the country. When the three of them would live together, Zai Ye had no intention of overstaying his welcome.

During his teens, Zai Ye had once spent a summer vacation with his mother. At that time, his half-brother Lu Lang was only three years old. Zai Ye had found him to be a particularly annoying brat, so he only stayed for about ten days before insisting on leaving, and never agreed to spend another summer vacation at his mother’s place afterward.

In these past few years, Zai Ye hadn’t seen Lu Lang, but he knew that under his parents’ doting, the boy had grown into a little tyrant.

That day, when he returned from school, he heard a little boy’s shouts from outside the door.

Carrying his shoulder bag, Zai Ye quickly walked into the house, just in time to witness the nine-year-old boy holding Yu Qian’s pink fruit bowl while his daughter stood on the sofa, wielding a fly swatter—which came down with a smack on the boy’s face.

Lu Lang, who had been shouting moments before, was stunned by the hit. Meanwhile, Yu Qian tossed aside the fly swatter and suddenly burst into tears, face turned skyward.

If Zai Ye hadn’t witnessed this scene himself, he might have thought she was crying because she had been badly bullied.

The crying attracted Mrs. Wen from upstairs. Seeing the scene, she quickly picked up Yu Qian, gently patting her back in comfort. “What’s wrong, our Xiao Qian? Did little uncle bully you? He’s not being good—we should hit him!”

She gave Lu Lang’s arm a light smack.

The spoiled boy, who had never been treated this way, immediately joined Yu Qian in crying at full volume. But the louder and more jarring his cries became, the softer and more pitiful Yu Qian’s became.

Even though Zai Ye had witnessed her hitting someone and then crying to gain sympathy, he couldn’t help thinking: That brat Lu Lang really deserves a beating for bullying his daughter.

Obviously, Mrs. Wen thought the same. She sternly addressed her young son: “Don’t frighten Xiao Qian. She’s your little niece and only two years old. You’re so much older than her and you’re her elder—how can you fight with her over things!”

These words rang particularly familiar to Zai Ye. In the past, when Lu Lang had deliberately cried to frame him, the adults had said the same things, though in a gentler tone. The meaning was that he was older and shouldn’t quarrel with his younger half-brother.

Zai Ye still remembered how Lu Lang had made faces behind his back, looking smug while he was being lectured. Now seeing him howling under the same treatment, it could only be called karma.

Suddenly, Lu Lang angrily threw Yu Qian’s pink bowl to the ground, shattering it into pieces.

Zai Ye, who had been silently watching the chaotic scene, witnessed this with suddenly contracted pupils.

The broken pieces slid across the floor, stopping at his feet. A surge of rage and darkness rose in his eyes, but he forcefully suppressed it.

Usually a quiet, cool-headed young man, Zai Ye was particularly silent today. At dinner, Mrs. Wen’s second husband, Lu Xishu, had also returned. He was a mixed-race Chinese man, handsome and cheerful in nature.

Lu Lang kept making noise with the plates and bowls in protest. After Mrs. Wen scolded him again, Lu Xishu mediated between mother and son, quickly pacifying his boy with promises of weekend outings.

Mrs. Wen’s gaze at the father and son was tender, but she quickly remembered something and cast an apologetic, worried look toward Zai Ye.

“Here, Zai Ye, have some chicken wings. These are your favorite, aren’t they?” she said.

At the dinner table, perhaps only two-year-old Yu Qian remained completely carefree. Her crying had caused Lu Lang to make a fuss for quite a while, but after she finished crying, she was perfectly fine—her eyes weren’t even red. She watched TV and ate contentedly, sauce smeared around her mouth.

Zai Ye had no appetite initially, but seeing her like this, he quietly ate half a plate of chicken wings.

After dinner, Mrs. Wen wanted to talk to her elder son, but found him in his room packing Yu Qian’s things, her clothes scattered messily in an open suitcase.

“Why are you packing? Didn’t we agree you’d stay here?”

“I said temporarily. Now that your husband and son are here, I should return,” Zai Ye replied calmly.

Mrs. Wen seemed at a loss: “But you still have school. How will you care for Xiao Qian? If you really don’t want to stay here, why not leave Xiao Qian with me during the day while you attend classes, then pick her up afterward?”

Zai Ye shook his head: “No need. I’ve already found a nanny.”

Mrs. Wen was startled: “A nanny? But aren’t you—”

Zai Ye didn’t want to elaborate, only explaining briefly: “We’d need one eventually. I’ll be careful.”

He had clearly thought everything through and couldn’t be persuaded to stay. Mrs. Wen understood her son’s personality, but their previous harmonious interactions had given her hope, which now fell empty, leaving an indescribable disappointment.

So Zai Ye took Yu Qian back to their home that had been vacant for several days.

The house held only the two of them, with no lights on, making it feel cold and empty. There were no soft sofa cushions, no decorative touches, no warm lighting or plants, and no mother speaking softly and preparing delicious meals.

Zai Ye set the child down and took her things to the room.

Opening a long-unused cabinet, Zai Ye removed a box from inside. The box contained a yellow cup, one of the few possessions he had taken when he left that home years ago.

The cup appeared ordinary, but it was handmade by Mrs. Wen.

When Mr. Zai and Mrs. Wen were young, they had fallen in love naturally. To marry Mrs. Wen, Mr. Zai had refused an arranged marriage chosen by his family, and after their wedding, they became an envied couple in their social circle. Mrs. Wen loved collecting various tableware and teacups, and Mr. Zai often gifted her many.

Mrs. Wen had once visited a cup-making workshop and, intrigued, had made a set of three cups together with her husband and son: a red one for herself, a blue one for Mr. Zai Yan, and a warm lemon yellow one for Zai Ye.

Though the final fired cups weren’t particularly refined, they held special meaning, and the family of three had used that set of cups for many years.

..Until Mrs. Wen discovered Mr. Zai’s affair. She had broken down, and during an argument with Mr. Zai, she personally shattered the red and blue cups.

The broken pieces had rolled to the feet of six-year-old Zai Ye, symbolizing how his family had shattered just like those cups.

In the end, only this yellow cup remained.

Tonight, he had watched Mrs. Wen and her husband and child using a matching set of red tableware—she still maintained that old habit. Though the previous cups were broken, she had now found a new set.

Zai Ye lowered his eyes, returned the yellow cup to its box, and pushed it deep into the cabinet.