Chapter 35: You Play That Wild?
Children’s memories are often distorted and easily forgotten.
Ye Chen’s recollection of the day his mother collapsed was fragmented—just scattered flashes.
He only remembered that the first person to notice something was wrong was the warehouse manager who returned after lunch.
The woman lying on the floor was unconscious, her limbs frighteningly cold. There was no detectable breathing.
The next image jumped to a very small child.
Still shaken, the manager went back to check the warehouse again and found Lu Ran curled up beside a small box, face deathly pale.
“How did you end up here? Did Madam Ye come looking for you? She had an attack right beside you—didn’t you hear anything?”
No matter what he asked, Lu Ran only stared blankly, saying nothing.
Until later, Ye Chen walked up to the person sitting on the hospital bed and said expressionlessly:
“My mom is gone.”
Lu Ran, already pale and sickly-looking, instinctively lifted his head when he heard those words.
Looking into those eyes, Ye Chen didn’t know why—but his heart suddenly began pounding wildly.
The other boy’s breathing grew faster. Sharper. He clawed at the blanket, leaving deep creases.
The sharp gasps echoed in rhythm with Ye Chen’s racing heartbeat.
Doctors rushed in. The ward turned chaotic.
But before they could even check properly, Lu Ran fainted.
Ye Chen’s father arrived as well—along with Lu Ran’s father.
His father pulled him outside and warned him:
This was an accident.
His mother shouldn’t have gone to a place like that. Lu Ran was just a child—what could he possibly understand?
While saying this, Ye Chen could feel Lu Ran’s father standing inside, watching them the entire time.
Bringing up Lu Ran specifically implied there was indeed some connection.
Calling it an “accident” meant it wouldn’t be pursued further.
Only then did Ye Chen’s pounding heart slowly settle.
His gaze drifted aimlessly until it landed on Gu Yang. Only then did he barely return to himself.
His heart began pounding again.
The memory surged back uncontrollably.
A black phone screen lit up.
The caller ID read: Mom.
The ringtone droned on and on.
She must be calling to make up with him.
Because the neatly cut plate of watermelon that had been meant for him alone had suddenly been shared with Lu Ran when he showed up.
Ye Chen had told Lu Ran that if he swallowed the seeds, they would take root in his stomach, grow slowly, and eventually burst out of his belly.
Lu Ran had cried from fright, so for once, their mother had scolded Ye Chen.
So Ye Chen decided he wouldn’t speak to her for a whole day.
Only that way would she coax him more gently and promise him more things.
The phone rang for a long time.
Then the screen went dark.
…And never lit up again.
Ye Chen stared blankly at Gu Yang, at those misty gray eyes.
So irritating.
Why did he have to hear all this?
Why overturn everything he had believed and reveal such a truth?
That phone call hadn’t been to make peace.
It had been a cry for help.
At the final moment of her life, she had made that call.
It went unanswered.
Her plea unheard.
She had died alone in the cold medicine storage room of the hospital that bore her family’s name.
Wasn’t this Lu Ran’s fault?
Why had he run into the warehouse?
Why had their mother followed, worried?
Why, while in the same room, had he been like a deaf person when she had her attack?
Even Father had said—this was Lu Ran’s “accident.”
The Lu family believed so too. That was why, weeks after her death, they transferred a highly valuable piece of land to them.
Lu Ran knew it as well.
That was why he had never stepped foot in their hospital again.
This could never let Lu Ran find out.
With his selfish personality, he would definitely push all the guilt onto Ye Chen.
“Gu Yang, you probably don’t know this,” Ye Chen said calmly. “Qi Lecheng is back.”
“It’s been so many days since you last saw him. I wonder if you missed him.”
Without waiting for a response, Ye Chen continued, “He must’ve missed you a lot.”
As long as the attention shifted away from him, that was enough. It didn’t matter to whom—preferably someone more explosive.
A provocative smile tugged at his lips.
“His feelings for you aren’t ordinary. His entire phone gallery is full of your photos. Many are candid shots. You probably didn’t know that, right?”
“Some while you were sleeping. Some when you were walking down the street. And even—”
Creak.
The classroom door opened.
A tall, slender boy walked in, slightly long hair tied into a small knot at the back.
All eyes turned toward him.
“H-Hi everyone?” he stammered, startled by the attention. “I’m back…”
Speak of the devil.
Yu Bai couldn’t help thinking that.
They had just been hearing gossip about Qi Lecheng—and here he was.
But Qi Lecheng looked like someone anyone could casually tease, so no one seemed particularly guilty.
He probably didn’t hear, judging from his reaction.
Ye Chen released Gu Yang and stepped back.
It was fine. He’d said enough. A little blank space only fueled imagination.
Now… Gu Yang wouldn’t keep pressing him, right?
“Welcome back,” He Ming’an greeted him. “Recovered from jet lag?”
“Pretty much slept it off yesterday,” Qi Lecheng replied softly.
He returned to his seat, put down his bag, removed his scarf.
The class finally stopped staring so obviously, though plenty of side glances remained.
“I heard your work won an award at the photography exhibition. Congrats,” Xie Wu said. “I looked it up—you were the youngest participant, right?”
Qi Lecheng smiled shyly.
Yu Bai sneaked another look.
He seemed… normal enough.
At least compared to some of the previous bombshells.
After putting his things away, Qi Lecheng took out a stack of items from his bag and walked toward Gu Yang.
“Gu Yang, I remember you said you like France. I took a lot of photos there and made a little album for you.”
He handed it over. Before Gu Yang even responded, his ears had already turned red.
Yu Bai clicked his tongue inwardly.
Objectively speaking, Gu Yang’s face was devastating—appealed to men and women alike.
It wasn’t strange for Qi Lecheng to have feelings.
And as a photographer, occasionally snapping a few candid shots… that seemed normal, right?
Sure enough, gossip that didn’t originate from Gu Yang just didn’t hit the same.
Gu Yang lowered his head and flipped casually through the album. His lashes hid his expression.
After a moment, he said mildly:
“Your photography is pretty good.”
Qi Lecheng’s eyes lit up instantly, like a child receiving praise.
At the same time, Gu Yang’s calm inner voice echoed—
[After I died, Qi Lecheng went to the funeral home in the middle of the night and carried my corpse back to his house.]
[Before the body decomposed, he staged several photoshoots themed around death and uploaded them to foreign websites… said he wanted to ‘preserve eternal beauty.’ It even got popular in a niche circle.]
[Too bad there aren’t any pictures here. I’m kind of curious. If something that grotesque can go viral, his photography skills really must be good.]
The moment the thought ended, the entire class turned in shock toward the shyly smiling Qi Lecheng.
Bro.
You’re into stuff that hardcore?!
Children’s memories are often distorted and easily forgotten.
Ye Chen’s recollection of the day his mother collapsed was fragmented—just scattered flashes.
He only remembered that the first person to notice something was wrong was the warehouse manager who returned after lunch.
The woman lying on the floor was unconscious, her limbs frighteningly cold. There was no detectable breathing.
The next image jumped to a very small child.
Still shaken, the manager went back to check the warehouse again and found Lu Ran curled up beside a small box, face deathly pale.
“How did you end up here? Did Madam Ye come looking for you? She had an attack right beside you—didn’t you hear anything?”
No matter what he asked, Lu Ran only stared blankly, saying nothing.
Until later, Ye Chen walked up to the person sitting on the hospital bed and said expressionlessly:
“My mom is gone.”
Lu Ran, already pale and sickly-looking, instinctively lifted his head when he heard those words.
Looking into those eyes, Ye Chen didn’t know why—but his heart suddenly began pounding wildly.
The other boy’s breathing grew faster. Sharper. He clawed at the blanket, leaving deep creases.
The sharp gasps echoed in rhythm with Ye Chen’s racing heartbeat.
Doctors rushed in. The ward turned chaotic.
But before they could even check properly, Lu Ran fainted.
Ye Chen’s father arrived as well—along with Lu Ran’s father.
His father pulled him outside and warned him:
This was an accident.
His mother shouldn’t have gone to a place like that. Lu Ran was just a child—what could he possibly understand?
While saying this, Ye Chen could feel Lu Ran’s father standing inside, watching them the entire time.
Bringing up Lu Ran specifically implied there was indeed some connection.
Calling it an “accident” meant it wouldn’t be pursued further.
Only then did Ye Chen’s pounding heart slowly settle.
His gaze drifted aimlessly until it landed on Gu Yang. Only then did he barely return to himself.
His heart began pounding again.
The memory surged back uncontrollably.
A black phone screen lit up.
The caller ID read: Mom.
The ringtone droned on and on.
She must be calling to make up with him.
Because the neatly cut plate of watermelon that had been meant for him alone had suddenly been shared with Lu Ran when he showed up.
Ye Chen had told Lu Ran that if he swallowed the seeds, they would take root in his stomach, grow slowly, and eventually burst out of his belly.
Lu Ran had cried from fright, so for once, their mother had scolded Ye Chen.
So Ye Chen decided he wouldn’t speak to her for a whole day.
Only that way would she coax him more gently and promise him more things.
The phone rang for a long time.
Then the screen went dark.
…And never lit up again.
Ye Chen stared blankly at Gu Yang, at those misty gray eyes.
So irritating.
Why did he have to hear all this?
Why overturn everything he had believed and reveal such a truth?
That phone call hadn’t been to make peace.
It had been a cry for help.
At the final moment of her life, she had made that call.
It went unanswered.
Her plea unheard.
She had died alone in the cold medicine storage room of the hospital that bore her family’s name.
Wasn’t this Lu Ran’s fault?
Why had he run into the warehouse?
Why had their mother followed, worried?
Why, while in the same room, had he been like a deaf person when she had her attack?
Even Father had said—this was Lu Ran’s “accident.”
The Lu family believed so too. That was why, weeks after her death, they transferred a highly valuable piece of land to them.
Lu Ran knew it as well.
That was why he had never stepped foot in their hospital again.
This could never let Lu Ran find out.
With his selfish personality, he would definitely push all the guilt onto Ye Chen.
“Gu Yang, you probably don’t know this,” Ye Chen said calmly. “Qi Lecheng is back.”
“It’s been so many days since you last saw him. I wonder if you missed him.”
Without waiting for a response, Ye Chen continued, “He must’ve missed you a lot.”
As long as the attention shifted away from him, that was enough. It didn’t matter to whom—preferably someone more explosive.
A provocative smile tugged at his lips.
“His feelings for you aren’t ordinary. His entire phone gallery is full of your photos. Many are candid shots. You probably didn’t know that, right?”
“Some while you were sleeping. Some when you were walking down the street. And even—”
Creak.
The classroom door opened.
A tall, slender boy walked in, slightly long hair tied into a small knot at the back.
All eyes turned toward him.
“H-Hi everyone?” he stammered, startled by the attention. “I’m back…”
Speak of the devil.
Yu Bai couldn’t help thinking that.
They had just been hearing gossip about Qi Lecheng—and here he was.
But Qi Lecheng looked like someone anyone could casually tease, so no one seemed particularly guilty.
He probably didn’t hear, judging from his reaction.
Ye Chen released Gu Yang and stepped back.
It was fine. He’d said enough. A little blank space only fueled imagination.
Now… Gu Yang wouldn’t keep pressing him, right?
“Welcome back,” He Ming’an greeted him. “Recovered from jet lag?”
“Pretty much slept it off yesterday,” Qi Lecheng replied softly.
He returned to his seat, put down his bag, removed his scarf.
The class finally stopped staring so obviously, though plenty of side glances remained.
“I heard your work won an award at the photography exhibition. Congrats,” Xie Wu said. “I looked it up—you were the youngest participant, right?”
Qi Lecheng smiled shyly.
Yu Bai sneaked another look.
He seemed… normal enough.
At least compared to some of the previous bombshells.
After putting his things away, Qi Lecheng took out a stack of items from his bag and walked toward Gu Yang.
“Gu Yang, I remember you said you like France. I took a lot of photos there and made a little album for you.”
He handed it over. Before Gu Yang even responded, his ears had already turned red.
Yu Bai clicked his tongue inwardly.
Objectively speaking, Gu Yang’s face was devastating—appealed to men and women alike.
It wasn’t strange for Qi Lecheng to have feelings.
And as a photographer, occasionally snapping a few candid shots… that seemed normal, right?
Sure enough, gossip that didn’t originate from Gu Yang just didn’t hit the same.
Gu Yang lowered his head and flipped casually through the album. His lashes hid his expression.
After a moment, he said mildly:
“Your photography is pretty good.”
Qi Lecheng’s eyes lit up instantly, like a child receiving praise.
At the same time, Gu Yang’s calm inner voice echoed—
[After I died, Qi Lecheng went to the funeral home in the middle of the night and carried my corpse back to his house.]
[Before the body decomposed, he staged several photoshoots themed around death and uploaded them to foreign websites… said he wanted to ‘preserve eternal beauty.’ It even got popular in a niche circle.]
[Too bad there aren’t any pictures here. I’m kind of curious. If something that grotesque can go viral, his photography skills really must be good.]
The moment the thought ended, the entire class turned in shock toward the shyly smiling Qi Lecheng.
Bro.
You’re into stuff that hardcore?!
