After Failing to Reverse the Plot, I Made My Escape - Chapter 21

“Without me, at least he still has you.”

“Mama!”

Seven-year-old Chang Qichun had inherited his parents’ excellent genes. He had already grown to 1.3 meters tall, and his chubby face still carried the roundness unique to children. Standing on his tiptoes, he pressed the doorbell with great effort.

“Papa!”

“Chun Chun is back!”

The doorbell chimed repeatedly.

Chang Qichun waited quietly for the door to open, but despite ringing for a long time, there was no sign of it budging.

Are they not home?

But Auntie said Papa and Mama would both be home today. Besides, their fifth anniversary was over. He had just returned from abroad, so why were they not picking up the phone?

Tilting his head, Chang Qichun took out his Little Genius smartwatch. He hesitated over his mother’s contact information. Perhaps Mama was very tired after filming.

He scrolled down and called “Papa.”

“Hello, the number you have dialed is no longer in service.”

Chang Qichun froze.

“Little Treasure, your mama got this number for me when he was your age. He was afraid I would get lost.”

“See how much he loves me? But only I can use this number, hehe.”

Chang Qichun truly could not stand his father’s daily, incessant boasting about their love. Back when he was five, he had used his chubby hands to push Chang Tingzhi’s face away, asking with a tilted head, “Papa, it is just a number. Why is it so important to you?”

He remembered his father picking him up, looking earnestly into his eyes, and saying, “Because it was registered using his ID card. It is his official identity in this world, and I am the user. He and I are bound together.”

He had told Chang Qichun, “When Papa is not around, you must take good care of Mama.”

He had apologized to Chang Qichun, “It has always been Mama taking care of you. Even though I am your father, I spend very little time with you. I work myself to death just so you two can have a better life. I do not want your mama to work so hard anymore.”

His father paused and kissed his brow.

Even though he was only five at the time, Chang Qichun’s eyes had stung. It was a lie to say he did not resent his father. Mama was always busy with work, and every time he saw other parents picking up their kids from kindergarten while he only had a nanny or driver, it hurt. Papa had promised to come, but in the end, he always broke his word.

Chang Tingzhi patted him gently. “From now on, I am counting on you.”

“Little Treasure, if one day I am no longer your father, remember, you must protect Mama.”

“Without me, at least he still has you.”

Chang Qichun had not understood why his father would say such things to a five-year-old, but he remembered how gentle his father was that night, tucking him in and, for the first time in a long while, telling him a story about a bear in the forest.

“Chun Chun?”

Yu Fuqiu’s voice came from behind him.

Snapping back to reality, his hand still on the doorframe, Chang Qichun’s eyes lit up with a thousand stars the moment he saw Yu Fuqiu. He ran over, his heavy backpack swinging, and threw himself into Yu Fuqiu’s arms.

“Mama!”

“Why are you back? Why did you not call me?”

Yu Fuqiu took the backpack. “My, what is in here? Did Auntie buy you all this?”

“Yeah!” Chang Qichun pulled out several pretty stones. “I found these!”

“And this hermit crab! Papa said he wanted one, so I looked for a long time to find it.” Chang Qichun shook the jar containing the crab and peered behind Yu Fuqiu. The stone path was empty, save for the swirling fallen leaves. “Mama, where is Papa?”

It was strange. Today, Papa was not following behind Mama. Usually, whenever Mama came home, Papa would inevitably appear at the next turn, always right behind him. He would look at Chang Qichun like a rival, pulling Mama into his arms and refusing to let Mama hold him.

If Mama kissed him, Papa would be jealous for ages. What a petty man.

Chang Qichun pouted and chirped, “Hehe, this time I found Mama first. Papa is definitely going to be mad at me again. Petty man, drink cold water, turn into a monster.”

His voice trailed off as he noticed the purple bruises on Yu Fuqiu’s neck.

Only then did he realize that despite it being mid-winter, with temperatures in H-City dropping below zero, Mama was dressed very thinly. He wore only a light sweater with wide sleeves that let the wind whistle through his collar.

Mama’s face was deathly pale.

His long hair was a mess, his lips were swollen and cracked, and there were varying shades of purple on his neck. There was even a piece of gauze covering a spot on his cheek.

“Mama.”

Chang Qichun frantically pulled off his own scarf, trying to wrap it around Yu Fuqiu’s neck. “It is so cold, why are you not wearing more? Why did Papa not remind you?”

“He.”

Yu Fuqiu’s throat tightened. His knuckles were white as he gripped a thermos. “Your papa is busy with work. I, I.”

“I forgot to bring a coat. I left in a hurry.”

Chang Qichun sensed something was wrong. Seeing that his mother did not want to discuss it, he changed the subject and grabbed Yu Fuqiu’s hand.

Mama’s hand was ice cold.

Chang Qichun did not pull away. He just squeezed tighter as they entered the main gate.

“Uncle Wu!” Chang Qichun shouted the butler’s name as soon as they entered.

The house was pitch black. The heating was not on, and the windows were even cracked open, letting the wind gust in. He felt Mama’s body shiver uncontrollably.

“Uncle Wu! Why is the heat not on? Mama is not healthy to begin with, why is no one looking after him? The windows are open, the cold wind is blowing right in!”

On the other end of the line, Uncle Wu’s voice faltered, filled with hesitation and embarrassment. “Qi, Young Master Qichun, you are back.”

He stammered, seemingly weighing his words. “This, it was Sir. Sir specifically instructed it earlier.”

“What did Papa instruct?” Chang Qichun pressed, his little face full of persistence.

Uncle Wu sighed and lowered his voice, finally forcing the words out. “Sir instructed that the household must save on expenses. Unless absolutely necessary, do not turn on the heating or high-power appliances. And regarding Mr. Yu.”

He paused, his voice dropping even lower. “Sir said that Mr. Yu is an adult and can take care of himself. He does not need any extra service from us.”

Suddenly, Chang Qichun remembered. Mama used to open the door with his fingerprint, but today, for some reason, the lock had beeped in error several times. Mama had given him a forced smile, then made a call with his back turned before switching to a passcode to let them in.

Uncle Wu did not say the rest out loud, but the implication was clear enough.

Chang Qichun stood frozen, holding his watch.

Young as he was, he understood. It was Papa. It was Papa who would not let anyone care for Mama, who would not allow the heat to be turned on, and who perhaps did not even want Mama to come home.

How was that possible?

Papa loved Mama so much.

Papa once told him that it was only because he loved Mama that he loved him.

Yu Fuqiu placed the cold thermos on the coffee table and rubbed his freezing hands. “Chun Chun, Mama will go turn on the air conditioner first. What do you want to eat? I will have Uncle Wu buy it in a bit.”

At least Chun Chun was his child. He would not be that cruel to him.

Yu Fuqiu dragged his exhausted body to the guest room. All his things had been thrown out. He had spent all morning packing them one by one and moving them quietly into the guest room.

It was freezing here. There was no floor heating and no scent of Chang Tingzhi.

The nights in H-City were brutal. Yu Fuqiu could only curl up alone on the vast, cold bed, trying to warm himself. But he was naturally frail, and giving birth to Chun Chun had damaged his health. With the recent emotional turmoil, he had no warmth left to give.

In the past, Chang Tingzhi would always hold him in his arms, even tucking Yu Fuqiu’s cold feet against his own stomach to feel the pulse of his abdomen. Chang Tingzhi would kiss him, their limbs intertwined, warmer than anything else.

Thinking of how the assistant mentioned Chang Tingzhi had no appetite lately, Yu Fuqiu had made some soup himself.

Yu Fuqiu stood outside Chang Tingzhi’s company building holding a thermal container, his fingertips turning red from the cold. He had spent the entire morning on it, cautious and precise with the heat.

The receptionist blocked him with a polite but distant air. “I am sorry, Mr. Yu. You cannot go up without an appointment.”

He did not argue. He only said softly, “Then I will wait for him to get off work, is that alright? This, please give this to him later.”

He knew these were Chang Tingzhi’s orders and did not want to make things difficult for the staff. He pushed the thermal container toward the desk.

The receptionist looked at his pale yet exquisitely beautiful face and the cautious hope in his eyes. Eventually, she softened and nodded.

Yu Fuqiu sat where he had waited last time, but during the lunch break, the receptionist told him with an embarrassed look that he was taking up space and perhaps should wait elsewhere.

So, Yu Fuqiu stood in the freezing wind not far from the company entrance.

He waited from the afternoon until the streetlights flickered on. He crouched on the icy steps until his legs went numb and the office was nearly empty.

The receptionist said it had been sent to the CEO’s secretary’s office during lunch.

He felt a slight surge of relief. With a faint spark of hope, he glanced at the still-lit office window and turned to leave.

As he passed the trash collection area near the side entrance, he froze. A familiar, clean thermal container was lying there next to several black trash bags, the lid tossed carelessly aside.

He walked over slowly, his hands trembling as he opened it.

The soup he had painstakingly simmered was untouched, now cold, with dust and debris floating on the surface.

Yu Fuqiu’s movements locked. His throat felt obstructed, and every breath brought a surge of pain. Something sent with his whole heart had been treated like trash and discarded without a second thought.

Despondent, he clutched the discarded container and walked aimlessly toward home. The night was deep and the wind piercing, but he could not feel the cold.

Yu Fuqiu looked up at the dim moonlight and squinted. What day was it today? His head hurt. He could not remember.

In a dark alleyway that served as a shortcut to the villa district, several hands suddenly reached out from the shadows like ghosts and yanked him in. The force was so great that he was caught off guard, his body slamming hard against the cold, rough wall. His vision went black.

“Oh, a little beauty? All alone so late?” A sickening voice, reeking of alcohol, whispered in his ear.

“What a looker. Such white skin. Why do you not play with us for a bit?” Another hand, calloused and rough, reached out to stroke his cheek with a demeaning, lewd touch.

The stench of stale alcohol and sweat mixed into a suffocating haze, enveloping him instantly. The thermal container in his arms fell to the ground with a clatter, rolling into a corner with a dull thud.

“Let me go! What are you doing! Get away!” Yu Fuqiu snapped out of his shock and began to struggle desperately. But his strength was pathetic against several ill-intentioned men.

His wrists were gripped tight and pinned behind his back, making him gasp in pain. Filthy words and disgusting touches slithered over his body like cold snakes, sliding across his neck and reaching for his clothes. He felt waves of nausea and extreme terror. His stomach turned.

“Help!” He tried to scream, but his voice was swallowed by the traffic noise outside the alley, sounding pitifully weak.

The only response was a tighter grip and a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the narrow space.

“Shut the hell up!”

His cheek stung fiercely, and his ears rang. Fists and kicks rained down on his stomach and back, bringing waves of dull pain.

His thin sweater was violently torn, and the freezing air immediately bit into his exposed skin.

On the verge of being swallowed by fear and pain, as those filthy hands roamed over him, a name, a name carved into the depths of his soul, rushed to his lips in a bloody, tearful plea.

“Tingzhi.”

“Chang Tingzhi.”

He lunged for the hope of a familiar figure appearing from the dark corner. He cried out Chang Tingzhi’s name.

But there was no answer. The name was like a stone dropped into the ocean, leaving no ripple. No one came.

The soup had turned greasy, its scent wafting through the alley.

In that moment, Yu Fuqiu thought.

This winter is truly so cold.