Chapter 23
Fang Jing Yao was slightly worried but more concerned for Han Qiaoye. Normally, his apprentice being clueless might be tricked by Han’s sly poems, but drunk, fists flying, anyone could get hurt. Fang Jing Yao sympathized with Han.
On the way back, they ran into the chubby guy. The area was remote with no rides, and he had come alone, crouching at the door looking troubled. Seeing Fang Jing Yao and the others, he hurried over, pleading: “Jing Yao, give me a ride. I need to go back early; something’s up at home.”
Fang Jing Yao let him in, teasing: “Busy meeting your girlfriend?”
The chubby guy patted his belly, laughing: “No, I’m already married. I promised my daughter I’d bring her hair clip today—a little bunny, her favorite pink crystal rabbit.”
He showed Fang Jing Yao pictures of his daughter on his phone. The screen saver was his wife holding their child in a rose garden, both smiling. The little girl was delicate, with bright black eyes, a little beauty.
Fang Jing Yao sincerely praised: “She’s really pretty, looks like your wife.”
The chubby guy shamelessly added: “Also looks like me—check the ears, little ingots, haha~”
Fang Jing Yao chatted with him most of the way. The chubby guy bragged about his wife: “Honestly, I’m not that capable; my wife is stronger, a doctor. Don’t know why she picked me.”
Fang Jing Yao joked back: “Coincidentally, my wife’s also a doctor.”
Long Yu, driving, glanced over.
The chubby guy continued: “We met through a matchmaking, dated a year, same hometown, love probably matured, so we married.” He asked Fang Jing Yao: “Are you married?”
Fang Jing Yao dodged: “Soon, soon.”
Long Yu chuckled lightly.
Chubby guy: “Then send us an invitation when you marry! Congrats in advance!”
Before Fang could respond, Long Yu promised for him: “Sure.”
The chubby guy didn’t hear who spoke, kept nodding. After many congratulations, he suddenly leaned forward, tapping Fang Jing Yao’s shoulder: “Before marriage, make sure to…”
Fang Jing Yao, opening a water bottle, choked on a sip, coughing violently.
“…Be diligent, help your mother-in-law’s family with chores.” Chubby guy panted, looking at Fang puzzled: “How do you choke on water? Dr. Long drives so steadily.”
Fang smirked internally. He wanted Long Yu to be a racing legend, but the guy was stubborn, always hitting the brakes.
Chubby guy bragged about his wife and daughter: “Never thought I’d be a dad so soon. When my wife gave birth, I helped. She didn’t gain weight; I gained twenty pounds, haha! My daughter’s three now, adorable, like a tape recorder, repeats everything you say.”
Fang laughed: “First time I’ve heard anyone brag about their daughter this way. Do archaeology majors always do this?”
“I didn’t study archaeology, I majored in literature… Your Majesty, what’s your major?” He asked Long Yu respectfully, like back in the literary club.
Long Yu: “Medicine.”
Chubby guy lamented: “Studying medicine won’t save the nation! Such brilliant writings, yet you went into medicine! The world has wronged me!”
Fang Jing Yao: “…“
He hadn’t expected this simple-looking chubby guy to be a performer, rivaling Zhuo Yifan in theatrics.
Drunk, he fully immersed himself as an old court minister, lamenting: “Your Majesty doesn’t know. In college I found another lord, the new emperor accomplished more. I had already written three to five novels back then, still writing. If you hadn’t abandoned writing for medicine, you’d surpass him. Early this year, your name would’ve been on Forbes’ writer-rich list…”
Fang Jing Yao perked up with interest. “Who?”
The chubby guy said: “An Chi Jin.”
Fang Jing Yao looked a little confused. The chubby guy continued: “Oh, maybe you don’t recognize the real name—his pen name is…”
Fang Jing Yao interrupted: “That’s called a pen name!”
Chubby guy: “Whatever, it’s the one who wrote that e-sports novel Gongshou Jiangshan.”
Fang Jing Yao got excited and turned to look at him. “Oh wow, I know him! That Interstellar Alliance book was super popular. It was my favorite back then. How do you know him?”
“I’ve got connections in the right places!” The chubby guy proudly patted his belly. “Oh, right. Remember I mentioned wanting you to collaborate with a publisher for a comic? The script is Interstellar Alliance, and you didn’t take it…”
Fang Jing Yao said: “If I’d known it was him, I definitely would’ve accepted!”
Chubby guy: “It’s not too late. Here, I’ll give you the editor’s contact info—it’s all the same people, no need to be formal.”
Fang Jing Yao excitedly added the editor on WeChat and slyly asked the chubby guy if he could see the “god’s” friend circle. “Everyone says he’s finely written and a big beauty. I want to see what the goddess looks like.”
Chubby guy: “Goddess? That’s a straight man.”
The chubby guy opened the friend circle. Fang Jing Yao craned his neck to look, but there wasn’t a single photo—only posts about wellness for middle-aged and elderly people and reflections on marriage. It hardly looked like it could belong to the author of such an amazing book.
Fang Jing Yao smacked his lips. “You’re not kidding me, right?”
“Look above,” the chubby guy said, tapping the background photo and enlarging it for him. It was a photo of two young men standing side by side, both quite handsome—one smiling cheerfully, the other frowning impatiently.
Pointing at the impatient one, the chubby guy chuckled: “This is your god.”
Fang Jing Yao’s eyes brightened. “He’s quite handsome…” The car jolted, and he immediately sobered up, adding: “Well, looking closely, he’s okay… haha, but still not as handsome as Brother Long.”
The chubby guy put away his phone, thinking Fang Jing Yao had insulted not only his new master but also his old one.
After dropping off the chubby guy, Long Yu turned the car east. Fang Jing Yao assumed they were going home. Passing the intersection without a turn, he asked: “What’s up? We’re not going home?”
Long Yu’s expression softened at his words. He didn’t know why a casual comment from Fang Jing Yao could touch the softest spot in his heart. He glanced at him: “We’ll go home later. First, I want to take you somewhere.”
Heading east, they arrived at the city’s old school campus. The school had expanded, and the senior year students had moved to the suburbs; only the first- and second-year students remained. The overpass that once separated the senior class became a library, but everything else remained—the massive school emblem was still there.
It was Sunday, and only a few students who returned early were around. The campus looked empty.
Fang Jing Yao walked slowly with Long Yu through the campus, following the shade of the trees to the fountain. He shaded his eyes to look at the giant sculpture nearby: a spiral of stacked books topped with a metal globe, majestic and exuding knowledge.
Fang Jing Yao said in awe: “It hasn’t changed. Long Yu, do you remember this? They put this sculpture up when I first started school. You were in senior year back then, must have seen it too, right?”
Long Yu nodded: “I’ve seen it.”
Fang Jing Yao grinned: “We all called it the ‘reading supports the globe’ back then.”
Long Yu chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Mischievous.”
Fang Jing Yao looked up at him, smiling: “Did you bring me here to reminisce?”
Long Yu put his hand on Fang’s shoulder, leading him forward, chuckling softly: “No, I want to make some memories with you.”
With few people around, they quickly walked a loop. The once-huge campus now felt small in comparison. They finished touring the first- and second-year campus and crossed the overpass to the senior-year campus, now converted into a grand library.
There was also an artificial hill in the courtyard, with a bronze statue.
Fang Jing Yao walked around it. “Long Yu, this used to be our class cleaning area. The principal favored your class so much, saying you seniors had to focus on studies, leaving all the chores to us first- and second-year students!”
Long Yu smiled: “We still cleaned our own classrooms.”
Fang Jing Yao teased: “Fresh, right? The juniors coming to wipe your desk… Wait, I did it for you back in the literary club, remember?”
Long Yu nodded: “Yeah, that one time. You lost money to me and even put a white note on your face.”
Fang Jing Yao pouted: “I tried so hard to please you, and you didn’t even return the money.”
Long Yu chuckled softly.
Fang Jing Yao looked around: “I thought the cleaning area was huge, impossible to finish. Now it looks tiny.” He patted the statue: “I used to polish this statue. The school was so weird—after polishing, we still had to use a brush to sweep the dust out of the cracks…”
Long Yu: “I know.”
Fang Jing Yao gestured dramatically: “How could you know my suffering! Such a tiny brush…”
Long Yu held his fingers, enlarging the gesture, correcting him: “No, it’s this size brush.”
Fang Jing Yao: “How do you know?”
Long Yu looked at him, a hint of a smile in his eyes: “My classroom window faced here. I sat by the window, looking up, and saw it.”
Fang Jing Yao felt something indescribable, like a fleeting memory he couldn’t quite catch. He wanted to ask more but was interrupted by Long Yu: “Let’s go check the literary club. After all these years, I wonder what it looks like now.”
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