MCFEM C35

Chapter 35 – Playing This Wild?

A child’s memories are always prone to distortion and forgetfulness.

Of the events on the day his mother collapsed, Ye Chen’s recollection was fragmented, only scattered fragments.

He only remembered that the first to notice something wrong was the warehouse manager who had returned after lunch.

The woman lay unconscious on the ground, her limbs cold as ice, her breathing so faint it was undetectable.

The next scene jumped to a very small child.

The still-shaken manager later went back and inspected the warehouse, finding a pale-faced Lu Ran curled into a ball beside a small box.

Why are you here? Did Madam Ye come looking for you? She collapsed right beside you—how could you not hear anything?

But no matter what was asked, Lu Ran only sat there in a daze, saying nothing at all.

Until Ye Chen walked forward, face expressionless, and said to the boy sitting on the hospital bed:

“My mother is gone.”

Already looking extremely unwell, Lu Ran instinctively lifted his head at those words.

He looked into those eyes and, for some reason, his heart suddenly sped up.

The other’s breathing grew sharper and more ragged, as though trying to grasp onto something; the quilt beneath his hands wrinkled deeply from his grip.

The shrill sound of his breathing echoed with the violent pounding of his own heart.

Doctors rushed in, the ward erupting into chaos.

But before they could even assess the situation, Lu Ran had already fainted.

His father came in as well, and so did Lu Ran’s father.

His own father pulled him out, warning him.

This was just an accident.

It was his mother’s mistake for going to such a place. Lu Ran was only a child—how could he understand?

But in saying these words, Ye Chen could feel that Lu Ran’s father was standing inside, watching them all along.

To deliberately bring up Lu Ran implied he was indeed involved.

Calling it an accident meant there would be no further pursuit.

The frantic pounding of his heart finally quieted.

Ye Chen’s gaze wandered unfocused until it landed on Gu Yang, and only then did his mind claw its way back.

And again, his heartbeat began to pound violently.

Those words from that day resurfaced uncontrollably.

The black screen lit up, the contact saved as “Mom” buzzing with call after call.

She must be calling to make peace.

Because the plate of watermelon, cut perfectly for him, had to be shared the moment Lu Ran suddenly showed up.

He told Lu Ran that swallowing seeds would cause them to sprout in his stomach, growing larger and larger until they burst through his belly.

Lu Ran had cried in fright, so his mother had scolded him—a rare thing.

He had sworn not to speak to her all day.

Only then would she soften her voice to coax him, promising him even more.

He didn’t know how long it had rung before the screen finally dimmed.

…and never lit up again.

Expressionless, he stared into Gu Yang’s cloudy gray eyes.

So offensive to look at.

Ye Chen thought silently.

Why make him hear this?

To overturn everything he had once believed, to hand him such a truth.

That call had not been for reconciliation, but for help.

At the very edge of life, she had called for rescue. Yet the call went unanswered, her plea unheard, and in the cold drug storage of the hospital owned by her own family, she slowly slipped away.

Wasn’t it all Lu Ran’s fault?

Why had he gone into that warehouse? Why had he drawn his mother to follow him with such concern? Why, when she collapsed right beside him, had he sat there as if deaf, hearing nothing?

His father had also said—it was Lu Ran’s “accident.”

Even the Lu family saw it that way. That was why, a few weeks after her death, they transferred over a piece of extremely valuable land.

Lu Ran himself must have known it too—that was why he never again came to their hospital.

This matter must never be known to Lu Ran.

Otherwise, with his selfish nature, he would surely push all that guilt back onto him.

“Gu Yang, you probably don’t know yet.” Ye Chen’s tone was utterly calm. “Qi Lecheng is back.”

“So many days without seeing each other—I wonder if you’ve missed him.” Without bothering to check Gu Yang’s reaction, Ye Chen continued, “But I’m sure he’s been missing you.”

As long as the focus shifted off himself, it didn’t matter onto whom—anyone heavier, the better.

Thinking this, his smile even took on a taunting edge: “His feelings for you aren’t ordinary. His whole photo album is filled with your pictures, a lot of them taken in secret. You didn’t know that, did you?”

“There are ones of you sleeping, ones of you walking down the street, even—”

Creaaak. The classroom door swung open from the outside.

In walked a boy, tall and slender, his hair tied back into a short ponytail.

In an instant, every eye turned to him.

“E-everyone, hi?” Startled by the scene, the boy’s soft voice trembled, his face breaking into a helpless expression. “I’m back…”

Speak of the devil.

Yu Bai couldn’t help thinking.

They had just been hearing Ye Chen gossip about Qi Lecheng, and here he was in the flesh.

But Qi Lecheng had such an approachable air, as if anyone could mess with him a little, that nobody felt particularly guilty.

He probably hadn’t heard, right? Judging by that reaction.

Ye Chen let go of Gu Yang and stepped back.

It didn’t matter—he had said enough. Leaving some blanks was even better for others’ imagination.

Now… Gu Yang wouldn’t keep pressing him, right?

“Good to have you back.” He Ming’an also greeted him. “Gotten over the jet lag yet?”

“I slept it off after getting back yesterday.” Qi Lecheng spoke softly. He first returned to his desk, set down his bag, and unwound his scarf.

The rest of the class finally stopped blatantly staring, trying to look busy with their own things—though still sneaking glances at his every move.

“I heard your work won a prize at the photo exhibition. Congratulations.” Xie Wu struck up conversation. “I even looked it up—you must’ve been the youngest one there.”

Qi Lecheng gave a shy smile.

Yu Bai couldn’t resist sneaking a glance.

Actually, just looking like this, he seemed pretty normal.

At least compared to the others who’d been exposed before.

After putting his things away, Qi Lecheng pulled out a neatly folded bundle from his bag, hugging it as he walked to Gu Yang.

“Gu Yang, I remember you once said you really liked the country of France. While I was there, I took a lot of photos. I made a photo book for you.”

As he said this, he held it out. Even before Gu Yang reacted, his ears had turned red.

Watching his pathetic, bashful look, Yu Bai couldn’t help silently clicking his tongue.

Honestly, leaving aside everything else, Gu Yang’s face was truly beautiful—captivating to men and women alike.

So of course Qi Lecheng might have some feelings.

And since he always carried his camera, sometimes snapping a few shots he couldn’t resist… well, that was normal too, right?

Clearly, gossip not coming from Gu Yang himself just didn’t have the same kick.

Gu Yang lowered his head, casually flipping through the photos. His lowered lashes veiled his expression, making it impossible to tell if he liked them or not.

After skimming, he said flatly: “Your photography skills are pretty good.”

Qi Lecheng’s eyes lit up instantly, like a child who’d just been praised.

And then, Gu Yang’s calm inner voice flowed out.

【After I died, Qi Lecheng went to the funeral home that very night and carried my body to his house.】

【Before the corpse could decay, he specially staged scenes and shot several photo sets themed around death, then uploaded them to foreign websites… He said it was to capture eternal beauty. It even got some traction in a niche circle.】

【Ha. Too bad there aren’t pictures here. I’m actually curious. For something that twisted to blow up, guess the photography really was decent.】

As those inner words fell, every gaze in the room snapped, stunned, back to the shyly smiling Qi Lecheng.

Bro, seriously…

You play that wild?