Distorted Fairy Tale - Chapter 14

Tossed in a fever, Song Zhen suffered through many nightmares. This time, he dreamed of the day he was expelled in his second year of high school.

The reason for his expulsion was an accusation from the class monitor, who claimed Song Zhen had stolen his watch.

The monitor was an Alpha with excellent grades and a sterling reputation. For a time, Song Zhen had often asked him for help with schoolwork, and they had been on relatively good terms.

However, the monitor had suddenly confessed his feelings to him. When Song Zhen declined, their relationship chilled instantly.

In his student days, Song Zhen was wooden and taciturn; few people wanted to befriend him. The monitor was his polar opposite a good family background, striking looks, and top-tier grades were enough to make him the most popular person in class. When he accused Song Zhen of theft, every classmate turned their back on him.

His adoptive mother was called to the school. Before Song Zhen could explain a single thing, he was slapped across the face in front of everyone.

The sharp crack echoed through the entire classroom.

The monitor’s father was on the school board and had even donated a library. Meanwhile, his adoptive mother had long hoped Song Zhen would drop out and start working to help support the household.

With the school suggesting he leave and no one to turn to, Song Zhen said a final goodbye to his education at the end of his sophomore year.

That period was like a chaotic, gray silent film that tormented him for years, eventually becoming a recurring nightmare he couldn’t escape.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, he would wake up feeling as though that suffocating powerlessness was gripping his throat, making it impossible to breathe.

“I didn’t steal it…”

“I didn’t steal it…”

“I didn’t steal it!!!”

Song Zhen jolted awake from the nightmare, only to realize he was being held in a warm embrace.

An impatient voice drifted from above his head: “What are you making so much noise for?”

Song Zhen looked up. The room was dark, but the moonlight allowed him to faintly discern the person holding him. His fever hadn’t broken yet, and his mind was still clouded; he thought he was still dreaming and felt a surge of relief that Song Heng had appeared.

He gripped Song Heng’s waist tightly, burying his face in the man’s chest as he began to sob softly. “I really didn’t steal it.”

As Song Zhen’s weeping grew more distressed, Fu Yuting reached out to switch on the lights. He pulled Song Zhen out of his embrace so they were face-to-face.

Song Zhen’s eyes were incredibly red, looking at him through a veil of tears. Even the tip of his nose was crimson, and his small face was a mess of tears.

Fu Yuting pressed the back of his hand against Song Zhen’s forehead; the fever wasn’t as high as before. Frowning, he asked:

“Why are you such a crybaby?”

Fu Yuting rolled out of bed and returned with a thermometer. He signaled for Song Zhen to lift his arm, but the younger man just stared at him blankly.

Fu Yuting suspected the Beta had actually burned his brain out with the fever.

He reached out, unbuttoned the top button of Song Zhen’s pajamas, and tucked the thermometer under his arm.

Song Zhen continued to stare at him like a dazed animal. Fu Yuting gave his forehead a light flick. “Hold it tight.”

Only then did Song Zhen slowly press his arm down.

37.8 degrees Celsius. Still a low-grade fever. If he slept a bit more, it should be completely gone by dawn.

Fu Yuting checked his watch: 3:30 AM.

Song Zhen certainly knew how to pick an awkward time to wake up.

Noticing Song Zhen’s parched lips, Fu Yuting poured him a glass of warm water. “Drink.”

Song Zhen acted like a robot with a short-circuited brain. Aside from staring at Fu Yuting’s face, he seemed incapable of doing anything else.

Even when the glass was held to his lips, he just kept staring. Fu Yuting seriously doubted the Beta was doing this on purpose.

He slowly fed the water to Song Zhen, who drank every drop without once taking his eyes off him.

Fu Yuting set the glass on the nightstand, turned off the light, and climbed back into bed. This time, Song Zhen didn’t stay still like a robot; he actively burrowed back into Fu Yuting’s arms.

“Heng-heng.”

Song Zhen wrapped his arms around the Alpha’s waist, burying his face in his chest again.

“It really is you,” Song Zhen murmured muffledly.

Fu Yuting said nothing. Soon, the rhythmic sound of Song Zhen’s breathing filled his ears.

This position didn’t make it difficult for Fu Yuting to sleep.

In truth, for the past two months, Song Zhen would always burrow into his arms like this once he fell asleep; he simply didn’t know it himself.

As the sun began to rise, Song Zhen was startled awake by another nightmare. His fever was gone now, and his mind was much clearer.

Finding himself curled up in Fu Yuting’s embrace, he realized he needed to use the bathroom. He tried to back out of the Alpha’s arms inch by inch. He was as careful as possible, but he still woke Fu Yuting up.

Their eyes met in a long silence before Fu Yuting reached out to touch Song Zhen’s forehead with the back of his hand.

The fever was officially gone.

Fu Yuting simply closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

Song Zhen had been talking in his sleep all night, so Fu Yuting hadn’t rested well. Just as he felt himself drifting off again, Song Zhen had woken up.

Once it was fully daylight and the doctor confirmed everything was fine, Fu Yuting took Song Zhen home along with a stack of medical instructions.

They didn’t speak a word during the drive.

Suddenly, Song Zhen’s expression changed. He bent over and let out a small cry of surprise.

Fu Yuting asked, “What’s wrong?”

Song Zhen looked up at him, his voice filled with an indescribable joy. “The baby kicked me!”

In that moment, Fu Yuting felt a strange sensation. For once, his gaze betrayed a hint of bewilderment. He repeated, “It kicked you?”

Song Zhen cried out again, laughing behind his hand, his eyes lighting up. “It kicked again!”

Fu Yuting was the father, after all. Song Zhen said tentatively, “Do you want to feel?”

Fu Yuting reached out and placed his palm over Song Zhen’s belly, which was finally beginning to show a slight curve. He clearly felt the vibration coming from within.

Fu Yuting’s pupils contracted slightly.

For the first time, it felt profoundly real.

There was a life inside Song Zhen.

That was their baby. He was truly going to be a father.

Since that day, after Song Zhen had invited him to feel the kick, Fu Yuting made it a habit to touch Song Zhen’s belly every night before sleep. Sometimes, he would even lean down and press his ear against it to listen for movement.

One night, Fu Yuting suddenly said to him, “Once the child is born, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Previously, Fu Yuting had offered specific material terms. Now, he was offering a promise.

In City A, a promise from Fu Yuting was roughly equivalent to finding Aladdin’s lamp.

Song Zhen looked at his face and said softly, “We’ll talk about it when the time comes.”

The two reached a tacit understanding to stop being so antagonistic. They maintained a distance that was neither intimate nor as icy as before.

Song Zhen grew more excited about the little one’s arrival every day.

He read stories to the baby daily and would often talk to his stomach.

Sometimes, when Fu Yuting returned to find Song Zhen stroking his belly and whispering gently to the child, he didn’t quite know how to feel. He just suddenly thought of an old saying:

“A wife, a child, and a warm bed.”

Saturday afternoon.

Song Zhen was sitting on the living room sofa as usual, draped in a thin blanket and reading a storybook to the baby, when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Who would visit at this hour? Was Fu Yuting back to pick something up?

Song Zhen opened the door.

“Surprise!”

A bouquet of flowers was suddenly thrust into his face, followed by a pleasant voice. Song Zhen met a pair of smiling eyes.

It was Zhou Nining.

Zhou Nining looked just as surprised. “Delivery boy!? What are you doing in Fu Yuting’s house?”

Song Zhen had no idea how to answer that.

He stammered, “You… you should come in first.”

Zhou Nining followed him inside, his eyes flickering over Song Zhen’s cotton pajamas and slippers. He understood the situation instantly.

While Song Zhen was still trying to figure out an explanation, Zhou Nining suddenly laughed. “Should I be calling you ‘Sister-in-law’?”

Song Zhen stared at him blankly, biting his lip. He didn’t know what to say, but his silence was as good as a confession.

Zhou Nining asked, “Is Fu Yuting not home?”

Song Zhen replied, “He should be out for a business meeting.”

“Geez, out for meetings even on the weekend,” Zhou Nining pouted. “Such a workaholic.”

Song Zhen forced a smile but remained silent.

“How long have you two been together?” Zhou Nining sat on the sofa, resting his chin in his hands. “You don’t look like a local, Sister-in-law.”

Song Zhen said vaguely, “We aren’t exactly ‘together’…”

Zhou Nining gave him a look that said I get it. “Right, right. I know. You’re just ‘roommates,’ huh?”

“Or is it what they call… ‘friends with benefits’?”

Song Zhen was rendered speechless by his bluntness.

“Today is Fu Yuting’s birthday. I just came by to drop off a gift,” Zhou Nining said with a smile. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Today is his birthday?” Song Zhen was stunned.

Because exactly one year ago today, he had found the injured Alpha on the beach.

“He didn’t tell you?” Zhou Nining tilted his head. “Well, that’s normal for him. He doesn’t really celebrate birthdays.”

“But last year on my birthday, he gave me a painting that was incredibly hard to find, so I had to return the favor.” Zhou Nining opened the gift box to show Song Zhen. “He loves skiing. This is a new snowboard from his favorite brand.”

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Zhou Nining asked, looking at Song Zhen with a curved smile.

“Since it’s from you, I’m sure he’ll love it,” Song Zhen said, looking down. He felt a strange, stifling sensation in his chest.

After all, this was his “White Moonlight.” Fu Yuting would likely cherish anything he gave him.

“Not necessarily. He’s hard to read,” Zhou Nining said. “I had to pester Lin Ze for a long time just to find out he liked this brand.”

“That’s just the Fu family’s upbringing; I guess never show your likes or dislikes.”

“I think their family philosophy turns everyone into robots. Fu Yuting was much more lively when he was a kid.”

Song Zhen kept his head down, listening quietly to things about Fu Yuting that he had never known. His fingers instinctively gripped the hem of his pajamas.

Zhou Nining didn’t miss a single one of those movements.

“Sister-in-law,” he said, suddenly leaning closer. He blinked his innocent-looking eyes and offered a harmless smile. “Are you unhappy that I’m telling you all this?”

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