MCFEM C36

Chapter 36 – Only Then Does It Count as Revenge…

That single second stretched into infinity. The expression on Qi Lecheng’s face briefly vanished; he froze, staring blankly at Gu Yang, motionless.

No one knew how much time passed before his face slowly curved into a smile again.

He had the kind of clean, delicate looks that carried a childish purity and self-contained air. Thus, his slightly excited smile didn’t provoke any aversion.

At least, not if one didn’t know what had happened.

From what was now clear, Gu Yang already knew what the other would do to him in the future. Qi Lecheng, having heard Gu Yang’s inner voice, also knew what he would one day do, and realized that Gu Yang knew it too.

Something so twisted—normally, even if someone could hold their expression steady, their body would instinctively recoil.

Like their classmates, who by now had all quietly put distance between themselves and that area.

Yet Gu Yang’s posture remained casual, simply lifting his gaze to coolly regard the figure before him.

Qi Lecheng immediately suppressed that smile, replacing it with a bashful, embarrassed look. He watched Gu Yang carefully. When he saw those calm, unchanged eyes, the corners of his lips couldn’t help but twitch upward again.

He knew it—Gu Yang was different.

“Gu Yang, I—” He had just reached out when his hand was struck away, hard.

He Ming’an looked at him evenly.

That blow had been so forceful his hand still tingled faintly. Qi Lecheng cradled it, eyes shifting toward He Ming’an.

The two of them faced off in silence.

Gu Yang, however, turned toward He Ming’an with a questioning look. “What’s wrong with you?”

What’s wrong with me?

Yu Bai silently marveled at Gu Yang’s astonishing obliviousness. Even after hearing what kind of twisted dumpling Qi Lecheng was, how could he still ask with such natural composure?

“It’s nothing.” He Ming’an’s reply was slow. “I just remembered that France seems to be having a flu outbreak recently. Since Qi just came back from there, I was a little concerned.”

Qi Lecheng hadn’t expected He Ming’an to say that. He pressed his lips together, looking flustered, then stepped back several paces—straight into the seat beside Xie Wu.

Xie Wu: …

So you won’t risk passing it to Gu Yang, but you’ll risk passing it to me?

He forced himself not to roll his eyes. He knew full well that He Ming’an’s words were an excuse, yet he still slid his chair further away.

He simply couldn’t handle this. His too-normal worldview just couldn’t.

“Alright, don’t be so tense.” He Ming’an’s smile returned, gentle and pleasant. “I only said it in passing. I wasn’t accusing you.”

Qi Lecheng tugged at his sleeve hem awkwardly. After nodding, he sat back down—just as his eyes met Ye Chen’s.

Ye Chen didn’t look away, instead meeting his gaze head-on, and gave a faint, shallow smile.

His contingency plan had worked beautifully. Right time, right place—even Qi Lecheng himself had unwittingly helped him, arriving at just the right moment.

Now, Gu Yang’s attention wouldn’t be back on him anytime soon.

Lu Ran, too, had slunk back to his seat, his focus drifting who knew where—sometimes toward Gu Yang, sometimes toward Qi Lecheng, his face a picture of turmoil.

But this was still a ticking bomb.

Gu Yang’s existence forced hidden filth into the light.

That made his very presence a sin.

Ye Chen’s mind drifted, and so he missed the subtle shift in Qi Lecheng’s expression.

Because Qi Lecheng had already heard it.

He’d heard what was just said.

He hadn’t known what had happened before, but his reasoning was simple.

This person had deliberately mentioned him, making Gu Yang think of something connected to him. Now, someone close to Gu Yang was already rejecting him. Talking to Gu Yang from now on wouldn’t be so easy.

It was all this person’s fault, Qi Lecheng concluded.

Earlier, when the other was called out by a teacher, he’d snuck a look at the phone left unlocked.

He hadn’t caught the name, but he’d traced the features in his mind over and over, until he lowered his eyes.

He’d memorized them.

—

After school, He Ming’an walked out the gates with Gu Yang.

Once he’d ordered his thoughts, he smiled and said: “I see you remembered to bring home the photo book Qi Lecheng gave you. I rarely see you value a gift this much.”

He paused almost imperceptibly before adding, “Is it because your aunt grew up in France?”

“If I recall correctly, you’re one-eighth French.”

Gu Yang lifted his eyes to him.

His eyes were a dull, lifeless gray. His features showed no obvious trace of mixed heritage, but the contours of his bone structure were strikingly defined, naturally enhanced when touched by shadow and light.

“Yeah.” His lips curled faintly.

He didn’t deny it.

“…What do you think of Qi Lecheng?”

“Him?” Gu Yang thought about it seriously, then spoke with a light, offhand air, his tone carrying a careless levity.

“I think he’s pretty interesting.”

He Ming’an halted mid-step.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He Ming’an smiled warmly, smoothly changing the subject. “Is Uncle Huang coming to pick you up today?”

Gu Yang nodded.

“Isn’t Song tutoring you? You’re not going?”

At that, Gu Yang’s face twisted with open distaste.

The corners of He Ming’an’s mouth quirked upward. “You’ve helped him so much—he surely remembers that. With nothing else to repay you, the least he can do is give you a boost in your studies.”

“I don’t need it.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” He Ming’an said gently. “Actually, I have a suggestion. Let him keep tutoring you—and you pay him for it as a private teacher.”

“Huh?” Gu Yang looked incredulous. “Why would I pay for suffering?”

“I just think, given how poor Song’s family is, even scholarships and grants probably aren’t enough to fill the gap.” He Ming’an’s voice was soft. “After all, his mother can only rely on him now.”

At that last sentence, Gu Yang’s lashes flickered almost imperceptibly. He lowered his eyes, offering no reply—just sinking into prolonged silence.

A car parked not far away rolled down its window. Gu Qingxu leaned out, rapping the frame twice in urging.

When Gu Yang walked over, he forgot even to say goodbye.

He Ming’an watched that retreating figure. Alone, the smile fell from his face.

He had never forgotten.

Inside, A-Yang carried a tendency toward self-destruction.

Between him and the world lay a membrane.

Within it, even his own self was hazy and formless, while he longed for something to cut through and wound him.

That was why he so often passively accepted, never actively choosing.

He Ming’an only turned his gaze away once the car was long gone.

His expression had grown dark.

But wasn’t this exactly what he had wanted, back then?

—

When Lu Ji returned, he immediately sensed the atmosphere in the house was off.

A servant stepped forward to take his bag, leaving him uneasy.

The Lu family employed several house staff, but Lu Ji was used to doing things himself and always found it awkward. He had often wanted to refuse, but one look at Lu Ran’s disdainful expression always made him swallow it down.

This time, though, he had no mind for that.

“Second Young Master, the Master is waiting for you in the living room,” a servant said softly.

A chill of foreboding passed through him.

When he entered the living room, he found Mr. and Mrs. Lu already seated with Lu Zheng and Lu Ran.

Everyone’s faces were drawn tight. When he arrived, Lu Zheng gave him a small nod.

He noticed Mrs. Lu’s eyes were red—she had clearly just been crying.

His heart sank at once.

A wordless panic surged up. Perhaps it was blood ties, but instinctively, he wanted to ask what had happened.

But Mrs. Lu’s pained gaze fell on him first.

“Why… why did you have to say such things at school?” Her voice, normally so gentle, was now hoarse and weary.

“What things?” Lu Ji’s tone was baffled.

“You’ve already done it, and now you pretend not to know?” Lu Ran’s voice came sharp with blame.

Lu Ji grew more agitated at the interruption. He had no idea what they were talking about.

And no wonder. Though rumors were already spreading in private, those in Class 10 still refrained out of respect for his position as the subject.

Moreover, the aftermath of Ding Ziyu’s expulsion still lingered, and no one had dared to brazenly confront him.

Mrs. Lu had only discovered it when she overheard students whispering after dropping Lu Ran at class.

Her face had gone pale.

She had heard nothing of it in her own social circle. That meant it was still confined to the students at Guanli High.

But it wouldn’t be long before it reached the adults’ ears.

She had known immediately what had happened. That was why she had summoned Lu Ji at once.

Her heart ached as she looked at the son she had only recently reclaimed. “Why did you have to tell your classmates about this? You promised me you’d never tell anyone.”

“How is Ranran supposed to stay at school now? If people find out he isn’t our biological child, there will always be malicious ones who target him.”

“That’s why I asked you to pretend to be twins—so you’d both be protected.”

Her face grew even paler.

Her stomach had always been weak. Any strong emotion made her double over with pain and nausea.

Seeing this, Lu Ran shot a venomous glare at Lu Ji. “Are you satisfied now, making Mom like this?”

He knew exactly how things had played out. He had only wanted his mother to take his side, but hadn’t expected such a bonus—an opportunity to pile everything onto Lu Ji.

“I never said anything at school.” Still foggy but catching their meaning, Lu Ji frowned coldly.

“You didn’t?” Lu Ran sneered. “Then how did it spread? Only a handful of us know. Who else could it have been—me?”

At that, Lu Zheng gave him a sharp look.

To be honest, something felt off about Lu Ran’s reaction. Yet it was hard to believe he’d deliberately sabotage himself in order to frame Lu Ji.

So he stayed silent.

“No wonder Ranran’s been collapsing and hospitalized these past few days—it must be from hearing such gossip.” Mrs. Lu’s voice rose, brittle and cutting. “Fine. Fine. Fine.”

“It’s not like that, Mom…”

Lu Ji reached toward her, but Lu Ran was quicker, seizing her in a dramatic embrace. “Mom, it’s my fault. Better I just leave—don’t let us hurt you anymore.”

Instantly, Mrs. Lu grew hysterical. “Impossible! We’re here together. I’ll see who dares take you away!”

“Xiao Ji.” Lu Zhenxing finally spoke. “We agreed already: outwardly, you and Ranran are twins. If you weren’t happy, you should’ve said so then, not bottle it up and betray us now.”

He was clearly displeased. He could already picture their partners laughing at them in the coming days.

“I really didn’t…”

“Don’t argue. We didn’t call you here only to scold you. This isn’t a small matter—it’s about your character.”

He removed his glasses, rubbing his brow wearily. “I know your original family didn’t raise you properly. But now that you’re here, I have to make it clear…”

That froze Lu Ji’s heart.

“What do you mean?” His tone suddenly turned sharp.

It had been a long time since anyone cut him off like that. Lu Zhenxing frowned—but Lu Ji pressed on.

“How can you even bring up my original family? You think that was my fault? That I was taken to them was my fault?”

The air soured instantly. Lu Zheng coughed lightly. “Xiao Ji, no one was to blame back then. Bringing you home was to make things right.”

“Make things right? And your way of making things right is letting this fake, who stole eighteen years of my life, continue to share my identity?” Lu Ji jabbed a finger at Lu Ran.

Lu Zheng hadn’t expected him to strip it so bare. His expression stiffened. “Why put it so harshly?

“Whatever happened, we raised Ranran for so many years. That bond can’t be severed.”

“What’s his crime? What do you want from him?”

With each word, Lu Ji backed away a step. He looked at his father’s displeasure, his mother’s sorrow, and Lu Ran’s faintly mocking challenge.

What did he want?

He wanted Lu Ran’s future to be an eighteen-year-long hell—just like the one he had endured.

Only then would it count as revenge.