The Daily Life of a Depressed Salted Fish Chapter 91

At the end of August, parents were bustling to prepare for the new school year.

At the moment, Jiang Wu was nestled in the nanny’s arms, listlessly watching a scene unfold.

His mother was livid, “What do you mean, ‘autistic’? Are you a teacher? Do you even know how to speak?”

The principal, drawn by the noise, and a teacher, whose face was turning red, tried to explain, “It’s just that I interacted with the child, and after a while, he didn’t respond or even look at me…”

His mother retorted, “You’re an adult; you should know to look at yourself first when something goes wrong. Calling my child autistic without evidence? I’ll take legal action if you keep talking like this. Don’t assume kids don’t have rights.”

“Please, calm down,” the principal interjected.

“Calm down? I demand he apologizes to my child!”

Someone muttered, “It’s just a child…”

“So what?” Jiang Wu’s mother continued her argument, “Even a child shouldn’t be subjected to careless remarks. Your child might have issues, but my child doesn’t, and I have every right to defend his reputation.”

“How rude,” another parent protested. “Are you implying there’s something wrong with our child?”

“If the shoe fits! My child is healthy and deserves an apology from this loose-lipped teacher.”

The commotion carried on.

Jiang Wu: “.”

“Jinwen, Jinwen.” A soft voice called, and a graceful woman approached, holding another child. She asked, “What’s going on here?”

Upon seeing the child in her arms, Chang Jinwen hurried over, lifted him to Jiang Wu’s eye level, and excitedly said, “Ah Wu, look, Ah Zhi is here! You’ll be attending the same kindergarten as him. Aren’t you excited?”

Jiang Wu: “.”

Chang Jinwen shook Yin Wuzhi a bit. The latter graciously looked at Jiang Wu and, in a sweet voice, asked, “Are you happy?”

Jiang Wu stared at him for a moment.

Then he reached out a tiny paw.

Yin Wuzhi, already aware of how much this little troublemaker liked clinging to him, heard from Aunt Chang that Jiang Wu even struggled to sleep when he couldn’t see him. He tilted his head, puffed up with pride, until—

His ear was tugged.

Yin Wuzhi: “…Hey, let go of my ear!”

Jiang Wu used all his strength to pull: “Stand up straight.”

“Ow!” Yin Wuzhi’s ear turned bright red, and he swung back to try to hit him. Chang Jinwen hurriedly set him down to avoid Mother Yin’s scrutinizing gaze, lifting her chin as she said, “Would a child who’s autistic joke around with peers like this?”

Jiang Wu tugged on Yin Wuzhi’s ear once, exhausting himself in the process. Yin Wuzhi jumped around near the nanny, trying to grab Jiang Wu’s foot, but all he managed to snatch was a shoe printed with Doraemon’s head. He growled fiercely, “If I catch you, just see if I don’t knock you down!”

Jiang Wu couldn’t be bothered to respond.

He was full of regret now—regret that he’d carelessly made promises just to cheer up Yin Wuzhi. Promises like, “If there’s a third life, I hope I can still retain my memories and take good care of Empress Yin.”

At the time, Yin Wuzhi’s reaction was one of sheer astonishment.

“Your Majesty, do you mean it?”

“As long as you don’t think I’m disrespecting you…”

“Of course not,” Yin Wuzhi said without hesitation. “If you’re willing to treat me kindly, I couldn’t ask for more.”

And before it had even begun, Jiang Wu already felt despair.

Yin Wuzhi had no memories of his past lives, and his current behavior was just like that of an ordinary little child. Jiang Wu had no idea how long it would take to get him to like him again, to reach the point where, like in their past lives, Yin Wuzhi would completely indulge him.

…But what Jiang Wu regretted most was promising Yin Wuzhi the next lifetime.

Had he known they could’ve continued the karma of their first life, crossed the Lanhai, and ascended as immortals, he wouldn’t have bothered coming to the mortal world again.

Such unnecessary suffering.

In this life, he and Yin Wuzhi were born on the same year, same month, and same day. But perhaps because Jiang Wu was lazier, he climbed out a bit slower and was born half an hour after Yin Wuzhi. Naturally, when Jiang Wu saw that little brat for the first time, he refused to acknowledge the difference.

Fine, whatever. As the nanny carried him away, Jiang Wu thought gloomily, life is short—just a few decades. Better to take it easy while he could. As for the promise to take good care of Yin Wuzhi? Maybe he’d make up for it after ascending to immortality.

Perhaps due to an unfulfilled connection, in this life Jiang Wu was born to Empress Dowager Wen, while Yin Wuzhi’s mother was once again Dingnan Wangfei. However, unlike in their past life, Dingnan Wangfei and Empress Dowager Wen were not sisters but purely best friends.

The friendship between the Jiang and Yin families gave Yin Wuzhi many chances to see Jiang Wu.

So that evening, while Jiang Wu laid on the couch watching cartoons, Yin Wuzhi came running toward him, little feet pattering.

The brat plopped down beside him and immediately reached over to yank on his ear with a fierce grip.

Jiang Wu was pulled down flat.

“Get up!” Yin Wuzhi demanded.

To be fair, young Yin Wuzhi was indeed very good-looking, almost as pretty as a little girl, though his temper was undeniably explosive.

“Move, move,” he kept saying, trying to push Jiang Wu off him. Jiang Wu continued to lounge against him, and Yin Wuzhi, still unsatisfied, went for his ear again.

Young ears are thin and delicate, and it hurt terribly to have them pulled.

Jiang Wu wavered between crying and not crying.

If he cried, it would be exhausting; but if he didn’t cry, it hurt.

He found a middle ground and made a face that looked like he was about to cry but held back the tears.

Three-year-old Yin Wuzhi, inexperienced in the ways of the world, stopped instinctively when he saw the glistening tears in Jiang Wu’s eyes.

“When…when you pulled on my ear, I didn’t cry,” he said nervously, sneaking a look at the laughing adults nearby before glancing down at Jiang Wu lying across his lap. Jiang Wu mournfully said, “Yin Wuzhi, bad.”

“Who…who’s bad?”

Just then, Chang Jinwen brought over some fruit and snacks, and Yin Wuzhi reflexively covered Jiang Wu’s red ear, mumbling, “Thank you, Auntie.”

Chang Jinwen, pleased, sat nearby and said, “I just spoke to your mother, and we’ve decided to find a nice kindergarten for you both to attend together. Isn’t that great?”

Of course, Yin Wuzhi didn’t want to be with Jiang Wu.

The kid was clumsy, still wobbled when he walked, didn’t know how to eat many things, and often spoke indistinctly. Being around him might even make him dumber.

Feeling the warmth of Jiang Wu’s ear in his palm, he quickly replied, “Okay,” wanting to get rid of Chang Jinwen.

“Good boy,” she said, patting his head. “You’re older than Ah Wu, so you have to take care of him.”

Hearing he was older than Jiang Wu triggered Yin Wuzhi’s competitiveness, and he nodded, “Alright!”

Once she left, Yin Wuzhi took his hand off Jiang Wu’s ear and, very seriously, declared, “I’m older than you; you should call me gege.’”

“Gougou*.”
* sounds like dog

Yin Wuzhi frowned. “Gege.”

“Gougou.”

“Gege.”

“Gougou.”

Yin Wuzhi: “…”

“You’re really too dumb,” he said helplessly.

Jiang Wu: “.”

Yin Wuzhi pulled out a box of chocolates, tearing it open with his teeth. Crumbs fell near Jiang Wu’s mouth; he licked his lips, the sweet taste melting on his tongue.

Yin Wuzhi took a large bite of chocolate, looked down, and asked, “Want some?”

“Yes.”

He handed him a new one. “Open it yourself.”

Jiang Wu: “.”

Yin Wuzhi actually expected him to open it on his own.

Jiang Wu felt deeply saddened.

He didn’t love him anymore.

It was in that moment Jiang Wu vaguely realized he’d truly experienced heartbreak.

That night, as his dad sat by his bed reading a story about a little dinosaur parting from a big dinosaur, Jiang Wu drifted to sleep, haunted by the memory of Yin Wuzhi carelessly handing him an unopened chocolate.

Despite the adult-like heartbreak Jiang Wu felt at three, he had no choice but to carry on with life, and before long, he was enrolled in a kindergarten full of other kids.

Where he faced another blow from his ex.

One day, the class was playing “Catch the Handkerchief,” and those caught had to perform a talent.

Yin Wuzhi purposely dropped the handkerchief behind Jiang Wu.

Jiang Wu: “.”

He wasn’t about to perform, but reciting a poem would be the biggest compromise he could make.

So, he recited an Ode to Osmanthus.

The teachers were astounded.

Even if his speech wasn’t perfectly clear, none of the teachers had ever heard this poem!

Yin Wuzhi was also shocked.

He didn’t expect the little dummy to transform into a prodigy over a game of “Catch the Handkerchief.”

That afternoon, they rode home in the same car. Yin Wuzhi squished up next to Jiang Wu, looking him over, and asked, “How do you know poetry?”

Hurt, Jiang Wu ignored him.

Yin Wuzhi took a Big White Rabbit candy from his bag and held it out.

Still, Jiang Wu ignored him.

“Here, I’ll open it,” he said, peeling the wrapper and holding it to Jiang Wu’s mouth. “Eat it.”

The candy was big, requiring a wide bite. Jiang Wu stretched out his tongue and gave it a lick.

“Eat the whole thing,” Yin Wuzhi insisted.

Jiang Wu just looked at him silently.

“Who else would eat it now that you’ve licked it?”

Jiang Wu: “.”

Yin Wuzhi was heartless; he refused to eat anything Jiang Wu had licked.

Ignoring him, Jiang Wu wouldn’t eat the candy he was offering.

Young Yin Wuzhi frowned, unsure whether to discard the candy or keep it, then wrapped it back up and placed it in Jiang Wu’s hand. “Eat it whenever you want.”

Maybe because the teacher had praised Jiang Wu as a “little genius,” Yin Wuzhi, wanting to surpass him, began putting in extra effort.

While Jiang Wu lazed around in kindergarten, Yin Wuzhi was drawing and writing. When Jiang Wu was relaxing at home, Yin Wuzhi was reciting poetry and doing math. When Jiang Wu’s parents took him out for a lazy countryside trip, Yin Wuzhi enrolled in a kids’ martial arts class.

A few years passed, and Jiang Wu constantly heard his parents sighing by his ear: “Look at that kid from the Yin family—so talented, so hardworking. Jiang Wu, you need to pull yourself together too!”

Jiang Wu: “.”

He already wanted to subscribe for the fast-track ending: just die.

He slowly wandered back to his room and opened his notebook.

And added another note about Yin Wuzhi: competes with me.

By the time they reached middle school, they could go to school on their own. Although Jiang Wu was still used to being picked up and dropped off by car, he yawned and strolled into the classroom, slumping right over his desk.

Living for over a decade had made him realize just how tough modern people had it. They were even more exhausted than ancient emperors. At least back in ancient times, he could sleep until late morning; now he had to get up early for class every day.

…And Yin Wuzhi wasn’t there to dress him anymore.

Just as he thought this, he looked up to see Yin Wuzhi walking in with his backpack.

He had cut his hair short, grew taller, and looked sharp and clean.

Jiang Wu: “.”

Yin Wuzhi glanced at him, sat down beside him, and frowned. “Didn’t sleep well again?”

“.”

“I think the only time you have any energy is during vacations.” Yin Wuzhi pulled out a carton of milk from his bag and handed it to him. “Here, you didn’t pick up when we called. Your mom asked me to bring this—haven’t had breakfast yet, have you?”

Jiang Wu: “.”

Yin Wuzhi shot him a look, inserted the straw, and placed it back in front of him. “It’s still warm, drink it.”

“Ah—”

“Drink it yourself.”

Jiang Wu closed his mouth.

Yin Wuzhi finally flipped open his book with one hand and brought the milk to Jiang Wu’s lips with the other. “Drink up; the teacher will be here soon.”

Jiang Wu took a sip and said, “Too hot.”

Without looking up, Yin Wuzhi replied, “Take the straw out and peel the lid off; it’ll cool faster.”

Jiang Wu: “.”

His ex was getting more and more unreasonable.

He actually expected Jiang Wu to open the carton himself.

Did he even know how tiring that was?

Jiang Wu decided he wouldn’t drink it.

Yin Wuzhi took it back, pulled out the straw, and ripped open the lid.

Just as Jiang Wu was about to open his mouth, Yin Wuzhi tilted his head back and downed the rest of the milk in one go.

He licked his lips.

Raised an eyebrow and said, “Spoiled.”

“…”

Ten years. He should have gotten used to it by now—Yin Empress was no longer Yin Empress.

Sadness, impossible to suppress.