No wonder Fang Jingcheng, who feared nothing, held such respect for Zhou Hongxia—it turned out that Teacher Zhou was actually his dear aunt. The fact that she was willing to accept a “bad student” like Fang Jingcheng suggested that she and his mother must have had a pretty good relationship back in school.

How embarrassing! Was she actually dating Fang Jingcheng right in front of his family? Why didn’t he tell her earlier?

Xia Fu felt a storm of emotions churning within, but she managed to maintain her outward composure. She described the class situation truthfully, even praising him, “He did a really good job and even helped me solve a tricky problem I had with the algorithm.”

“I was so happy at the time that I thanked him by saying I’d treat him to bubble tea. He seemed a bit embarrassed and didn’t respond right away. It was actually Jingcheng who reminded me that Teacher Fang couldn’t have caffeine because of his heart condition. Thinking back, I feel a bit awkward about it.” Her tone carried an apologetic note as she recounted the awkward moment.

Zhou Hongxia’s lips curled up in amusement as she replied lightheartedly, “Oh, really? Looks like Jingcheng has shared quite a bit about our family. I can just imagine how he must’ve described Siyu.”

She rested her hand on a sugar box, tracing the raised patterns on the lid as she explained, “Well, he’s only partially right. Siyu does have a heart condition, but if you’d actually treated him to bubble tea, I think he would’ve been pretty happy. His heart isn’t as fragile as glass. A bit of sweetness could actually bring a little joy into his life.”

She paused, a sigh escaping as she continued, “But Siyu’s mother, my best friend in college, Meng Hanshan, is an incredibly responsible yet unfortunate person. During her pregnancy, she endured a lot without proper care, which led to Siyu’s frail health. She blamed herself for it, to the point that she had many sleepless nights over her guilt. She’s already restricted him from running freely, and every small mistake now feels to her like further proof that she’s failing her child. Hence, she insists on the ‘no caffeine’ rule.”

Recalling her friend’s hardships, Zhou Hongxia couldn’t help but let out a heavy sigh. Unlike her current gentle and loving demeanor, she hadn’t always been so fond of her friend’s “baggage” back then. She used to complain to her bright future-bound classmates, saying, “As her friend, I never really understood why she got married. Hanshan was in the top ten of our class. She should be a guest professor by now, not tied down by a child. But then, Siyu was born…”

But one small incident had changed her perspective entirely.

She remembered the elderly-like expression that young Fang Siyu had as a child, and a helpless smile crept onto her face. “Most of my classmates are married now, and I’ve seen plenty of kids, but Siyu is definitely the most unique one. Hanshan is brilliant academically, and as a mother, she’s flawless too. She’s given Siyu the best medical resources, the best education, the most balanced diet, meticulously planned down to every single minute of the day… Honestly, even the elite team she managed couldn’t stick to such a precise schedule, but Siyu did. He didn’t inherit his father’s dishonesty; he’s a sweet and honest child who keeps every promise he makes to Hanshan, often perfectly. Sometimes, he’s so rigid he hardly seems like a kid.”

“So, I couldn’t help but tease him, tempting him with everything that other kids liked, just to see if he’d say he didn’t want any of it. And do you know what he said? He said, ‘I do like it, but I can’t. Mom’s worked so hard for me, so I can’t make her sad.’ That’s when I found out that his dad, while drunk, actually ‘educated’ him, telling him things like, ‘You have to understand your mother; she’s been so busy taking care of your illness that she’s hardly home anymore. She’s your mother, not my wife anymore.’”

“From then on, I couldn’t stand by idly anymore. Hanshan saw this poor child and felt heartbroken. Siyu, seeing his exhausted mother, felt guilty too. It was as if her unhappiness made him feel like happiness was a guilty thing, so I’d occasionally help Hanshan with babysitting to give her a break.”

“I took him to parks, libraries, cinemas, and even treated him to a bit of candy, just within the doctor’s recommended limits. If it weren’t for me, that might have been all he’d ever get in his life.”

Zhou Hongxia looked up, a gentle expression on her face as she met Xia Fu’s eyes, her gaze soft and deep like a calm lake. This detailed explanation of the Fang family’s generational relationships was overwhelming, almost too much for an outsider like Xia Fu to fully grasp.

The young student sat quietly, her hands on her lap, gazing down at her wrinkled T-shirt, replying in a muffled tone, “No wonder I saw him tuck a candy wrapper into his book when I passed by. He must be really grateful for your thoughtfulness.”

After a moment of lip-biting deliberation, Xia Fu finally asked, “But… why are you telling me all of this?”

Zhou Hongxia’s smile deepened, pleased by her perceptiveness. “You’re a good kid, wise beyond your years. Since you’ve been with Jingcheng, his grades have improved quite a bit. I hope you can also help him with his brotherly relationship.”

Knowing how frequently Fang Siyu was in touch with Fang Jingcheng, Zhou Hongxia couldn’t hide her disdain as she added, “I bet Jingcheng’s told you all sorts of negative things about his brother. He was a high-maintenance, sensitive child from birth, even after his mother was worn out. And since he looks like his father, he was raised by his grandmother and never truly understood the family dynamics. To grab attention, he often pulled all sorts of ridiculous stunts. Hanshan worried he’d unknowingly hurt his brother, which is why she restricted his behavior. This time, she specifically asked me to be his mentor, probably afraid that he’d go astray in the freedom of college life.”

With that, Zhou Hongxia reached into a tin full of chocolates, pulling out a red and gold-wrapped candy, which she handed to Xia Fu. “He’s been spoiled enough. It’s better to be strict with him. Think over what I’ve said once you’re back.”

…

Due to this unexpected conversation, Xia Fu returned later than she’d anticipated. Their planned dinner kept getting postponed, and Fang Jingcheng, waiting in the dorm’s lounge, was so bored he’d started peeling the white fibers off an orange from the dorm warden.

Every time someone swiped open the dorm door, he’d glance up, greeting each person he recognized until finally, he spotted his girlfriend.

Flinging the orange aside, he went up to her with a smile. “Welcome back! You were gone longer than I thought. I peeled a nice orange while waiting and even chatted with a friend about the new gaming store that opened. So, what did you two talk about?”

His stomach growled with anticipation, full of things he was eager to share. But as his girlfriend spoke, his cheerful expression faltered.

“We talked a bit about you.”

“On the way, I saw Fang Siyu eating chocolate. Teacher Zhou mentioned she’d given it to him, and I realized she’s your aunt. She told me about you and Siyu when you were kids, about your aunt’s struggles due to your uncle, and all the worry she had for Siyu. He can’t have too much sugar or do intense activities. She asked me to look out for him.”

“You know… all of it?”

Fang Jingcheng’s face twitched, the words stinging as he faced her gaze, feeling like he was undergoing an unbearable interrogation.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he forced a smile, attempting to brush off the tension with a lighthearted tone. “She doesn’t like me much since I’m not like my brother, who’s quiet and studious. That’s why I never mentioned she was my aunt.”

How does one defend loneliness without resenting the brother who always took the love he craved?

Why did everyone who met Siyu always seem to like him more? Why open up his scars for her to care for Siyu too? Should everyone who meets his brother feel that way?

Trying to rein in his bitterness, Fang Jingcheng warned himself over and over not to be sharp, not to be angry, not to be jealous.

He forced a grin, trying to sound casual. “But to look out for him? How? He’s almost thirty. Does he really need you looking after him?”

Frustrated emotions simmered within him, the hurt harder to suppress, each word pulling painfully at his heart. He felt trapped and vulnerable, yet couldn’t stop his complaints. Otherwise, he’d forever remain a childish mute.

“Did she say I’m trouble? Always bothering Siyu? Are you going to start hating me too?”

His nose wrinkled as his voice wavered with a hint of sadness.

But Xia Fu shook her head, denying his self-deprecating thought.

“No, I don’t hate you. And it’s fine if you didn’t tell me before. I believe only mutual recognition defines a relationship.”

Taking his clenched hand in hers, she fished out the red-wrapped chocolate from her pocket, carefully splitting it in half and placing one piece into his palm.

“This is for you.”

Then she smiled, inviting him, “You’ve waited so long. Are you hungry? Want a bite before we go get some food?”

[He’s already been spoiled enough.]

Until she left the office, Xia Fu never received a second chocolate from Zhou Hongxia. On the way back, she kept pondering, questioning herself.

Meng Hanshan was pitiful, and Fang Siyu was pitiful… But what about Fang Jingcheng? What had he done wrong to be brought into this world just to fill an emptiness?

Is pain something that can be measured? Does a larger pain overshadow a smaller one, making it insignificant, even if it has clearly left its mark?

Are those who seem happy supposed to be hurt, sidelined, just so the world can appear fair?

Deep down, she envied Fang Jingcheng; she admired him. She’d never understood what burdens someone as bright as him could carry.

Now, she finally understood. Maybe all he wanted was that half a piece of chocolate.

Fang Jingcheng held the melting candy in his hand, warmed by her touch. Zhou Hongxia would never share candy with him, so Xia Fu’s half was purely hers to give.

His constant chatter and hidden bitterness miraculously quieted with that one small gift.