Just as Yu Huaiting was at a loss over how to search, Xu Zhun’s voice came.
“Mr. Yu, which floor are you on?”
Xu Zhun’s voice came again, somewhat urgent. “Lin Feng found Fu Songcheng.”
Yu Huaiting replied quickly in his mind: “729.”
“Head to the elevator bay first. We’re coming to find you right now.”
…
Fu Songcheng had been that kind of “other people’s child” since he was little. Loving parents, a well-off family, excellent grades.
Wherever they went, his family was the focus of envy and praise.
That weekend, relatives brought their kids over to visit.
The adults chatted in the upstairs living room, so they had Fu Songcheng take his little cousin downstairs to play.
Fu Songcheng led his cousin downstairs.
Quite a few kids his age had gathered around the playground equipment in the complex.
His cousin was lively by nature and quickly hit it off with a few other kids, starting a game of hide-and-seek.
Fu Songcheng had no interest in joining these games.
He walked to the flowerbed nearby and sat down, legs crossed, idly spacing out, only glancing toward the crowd from time to time to make sure the little girl didn’t run too fast and fall.
Just as he watched, he suddenly felt his shorts’ hem being tugged.
The force wasn’t much, but it was clear.
Fu Songcheng looked down.
A boy who looked about ten stood by his leg.
The boy had two gray-black smudges on his cheeks, his clothes a bit too small and wrinkled, looking filthy.
A small hand, equally dust-covered, was clutching tightly at his pant hem.
“Gege, you’re so pretty.”
The boy suddenly spoke, his voice crisp.
The fifteen-or-sixteen-year-old Fu Songcheng hadn’t fully grown into his features yet—no glasses, tall and thin, fair and clean.
His features already showed a refined outline. Because of his outstanding looks and temperament, at school his backpack often ended up with a few confession letters stuffed in by classmates.
Fu Songcheng froze, then couldn’t help a soft laugh. He’d heard plenty of praise at school, but this was the first time such a young boy had so bluntly called him pretty.
He bent slightly, looking at this grubby little guy, and teased, “Whose kid has such a sweet mouth? Where’d you get so dirty playing?”
The boy didn’t answer his question, his hand still not letting go of Fu Songcheng’s pants.
Fu Songcheng pointed at his cousin’s group playing enthusiastically nearby.
“Go play with them~”
Fu Songcheng tried to shoo him off.
The boy glanced in the direction of his finger, then decisively shook his head.
“No.” The boy’s voice was stubborn. “I want to play with you.”
Fu Songcheng was somewhat helpless.
He stood and changed spots; the boy followed step by step.
He sat back down; the boy stood right by his leg.
The afternoon passed quickly.
Fu Songcheng was thoroughly stuck to by this boy whose name he didn’t even know.
The two were four or five years apart, and Fu Songcheng was already much more mature than his peers—naturally he could find no common ground with a kid who looked barely ten.
Over time, he grew a little annoyed at being pestered. If not for the boy’s delicately cute features and the compliment, he’d have snapped at Yu Huaiting to get lost long ago.
The sky gradually darkened.
“Time to go home for dinner.”
Fu Songcheng stood and called out toward the distance.
His cousin ran over excitedly and grabbed Fu Songcheng’s arm. The moment she turned her head, she saw the boy pressed tightly against Fu Songcheng’s other side.
The little girl shot out a hand and shoved the boy away.
“This is my gege! What are you doing?” his cousin shouted loudly.
Fu Songcheng quickly caught his cousin’s wrist.
“Don’t be so fierce to him.” Fu Songcheng’s tone sharpened a little. “Apologize to him right now.”
The boy was clearly somewhat malnourished, his body very light—shoved hard by his cousin, he plopped straight down onto the ground.
He sat on the ground and didn’t get up.
Hearing Fu Songcheng speak up for him, the boy raised his head. Tears quickly welled up in his eyes, his mouth pursing aggrievedly, looking pitifully at Fu Songcheng.
“No! He’s stealing my gege!” The little girl refused to budge.
Fu Songcheng sighed and bent to whisper in his cousin’s ear.
“You apologize to him, and gege will take you for cake after.” Fu Songcheng said quietly.
Hearing there’d be cake, the little girl reluctantly muttered a “sorry” at the boy on the ground.
Yet the boy’s tears chose this moment to patter down. Unlike other kids who’d cry and fuss when wronged, he made not a single sound—tears just fell in streams.
He sat on the ground, head tilted up, just gazing at Fu Songcheng.
Fu Songcheng felt a little embarrassed under his stare.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little candies he’d grabbed on the way out to coax his cousin.
Fu Songcheng crouched and stuffed the candy into the boy’s hand.
“Sorry about that, little brother, don’t cry.” Fu Songcheng soothed softly. “Where do you live? We’ll walk you home.”
The boy sat on the ground, his small hand clutching those two candies tight.
His tears still didn’t stop.
The three just stared at each other.
His cousin grew a little impatient waiting and tugged at Fu Songcheng’s hem.
Just then, the boy suddenly scrambled up from the ground. He turned and darted off into the shadows of the complex in a puff.
Fu Songcheng froze for a moment, then took his cousin’s hand and turned toward the building.
In the elevator.
His cousin looked up at Fu Songcheng. “Gege, don’t play with him.”
Fu Songcheng looked down and asked, “What’s wrong? You don’t like him?”
His cousin pursed her lips. “I heard other kids say he picks through trash in the complex every day, all dirty, never goes to school. He’s a trash kid.”
Fu Songcheng frowned slightly.
Didn’t his parents take care of him?
But he wasn’t the boy’s parent—no obligation to look after him.
He corrected his cousin: “Gege won’t play with him. But didn’t the teacher teach you not to talk bad about people behind their backs? How can you just call someone a trash kid?”
His cousin lowered her head. Fu Songcheng coaxed her a bit more, and the two chatted as they headed home.
After dinner, because of Fu Songcheng’s promised cake, his cousin hadn’t eaten much. She pestered him to go buy cake, so he had to take her downstairs.
On the way back with the cake, the two carried the cake box and had just reached a corner of the complex.
Fu Songcheng stopped in his tracks.
By the trash bin not far away stood a thin, small figure—the child was leaning into the bin, rummaging with effort.
Fu Songcheng recognized him—it was the boy from that afternoon, really digging through the trash.
This time his cousin didn’t make a sound, just tugging Fu Songcheng to hurry away.
The boy looked up from the trash bin.
He saw Fu Songcheng standing under the streetlight. The boy’s body went rigid; he immediately dropped the plastic bottle in his hand and ran off in a fluster.
After the afternoon’s scolding, the little girl said nothing. The two carried the cake home.
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