That evening, Yin Wuzhi noticed some activity in the “Close as Family” group chat.
Aunt Wen: Ah Wu just asked me for an old phone. Looks like he wants to go online!
Uncle Jiang: Finally, Ah Wu is coming to life.
Uncle Jiang deleted a message.
Uncle Jiang: Our Ah Wu finally looks like a 21st-century kid.
Dad: You gave him an old phone? Is that how you reward his sudden ambition?
Mom: I have a brand-new phone that a friend gifted me. I don’t use it. Let Ah Zhi bring it to him now. It’s the weekend—let him play to his heart’s content.
Yin Wuzhi thought about how he used to get scolded for playing games or watching the iPad as a kid. Slowly, he typed: ?
Before he could process the situation, his mom’s voice came from outside: “Ah Zhi! Come here for a second!”
Meanwhile, in the group chat:
Dad: Hurry up and get the phone to deliver to Ah Wu.
Unsure of what had come over Jiang Wu, Yin Wuzhi found himself walking toward his parents’ room. His dad met him halfway, handing him a sealed phone box. “You’re not coming home tonight.”
Yin Wuzhi: ???
Chang Yuxiu: “What your dad means is that you should teach him how to use it. Tomorrow’s still the weekend, so you two can sleep in.”
Yin Wuzhi protested, “I still have homework to finish.”
“What’s more important than this?” his dad replied. “You’re always the top of your class anyway. Ah Wu finally wants to play on a phone. Help him out—teach him to play some games, and maybe you two will get even closer.”
Yin Wuzhi’s lips twitched. “So Dad thinks we’re already close?”
“Of course,” his dad reminisced. “When he was a baby, Ah Wu wasn’t interested in much. He wouldn’t even turn his head. But if you cried, he’d roll his eyes toward you. Even Aunt Wen and Uncle Jiang never got that treatment.”
Yin Wuzhi: “Really?” So, back then, he’d only look at me?
His mom added, “Ah Wu was such a quiet baby. He never cried—except that one time when he wailed his heart out. Aunt Wen was so scared she held him and checked him all over. But Ah Wu, while crying, reached his little hands out for you. When I checked, it turned out you’d wet your pants.”
Yin Wuzhi: “…”
As Yin Wuzhi descended the stairs with the phone, his parents were still reminiscing.
“Imagine the patience he must have had. Ah Wu hardly blinked most days, but he yelled for someone to change your diaper.”
“Exactly,” his mom agreed. “He even cried louder for that than when he wet his own pants. Must’ve taken all his energy—he didn’t even have the strength to nurse properly after that.”
Late that night, family butler Qi opened the door for Yin Wuzhi. After greeting Jiang Wu’s parents at their door, Yin Wuzhi made his way to Jiang Wu’s room.
Jiang Wu’s door was almost always left open. He didn’t want to bother opening it for others, and the family respected his space.
Yin Wuzhi knocked lightly before entering. “My mom sent me to deliver this phone and teach you how to use it.”
Jiang Wu: “.”
He had rejected his parents’ offer to teach him earlier. Though he was lazy, he wasn’t stupid.
Jiang Wu glanced at the new phone box. In the end, he still preferred the old, unpackaged phone. But now he was too tired to fuss, so he remained lying down.
Yin Wuzhi unpacked the phone for him and brought it over. “I’ll set it up for you and log you in.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have another SIM card?” Yin Wuzhi asked. “Want me to take the one from your watch?”
“No.” Jiang Wu preferred using his watch for calls—much more convenient.
Yin Wuzhi, as if expecting this, pulled out a card from his pocket. “Here, it’s my secondary SIM. You can use it. Calls to my number are free, and we share the data plan, though I doubt you’ll use much.”
“Okay.”
Yin Wuzhi registered a WeChat account for him and linked the new SIM to his QQ account. “Want to join your class group?”
“No.”
Yin Wuzhi adjusted his position, lying next to him. “Then this account will only have me as a contact.”
“Delete it.”
Yin Wuzhi shot him a glare. “Why the sudden interest in going online?”
“.”
“Whatever. What username do you want for WeChat?”
“.”
“I’ll just match it to your QQ.” Yin Wuzhi typed a single “.” into the username field, then handed him the phone. “Here, add me first. I’ll send you your parents’ and my parents’ contact info.”
Jiang Wu laid face-down on the pillow, refusing to move.
Yin Wuzhi had to do everything himself. After setting it all up, he asked, “Want me to download a game for you?”
“What kind?”
“PUBG.”
Jiang Wu looked puzzled, so Yin Wuzhi explained, “It’s a shooting game.”
“Is it tiring?”
“I’ll download it, and you can try…” Before Yin Wuzhi finished, Jiang Wu’s newly registered account received several notifications. Someone had added him to the “Close as Family” group chat. The parents immediately set off a flurry of virtual fireworks.
Yin Wuzhi showed Jiang Wu the screen, smirking. “When you go online, they practically throw a party. When I do, my dad wants to cut the internet cable.”
Jiang Wu asked, “Is going online fun?”
“To be honest, there’s nothing special about it, but you get to see a lot of things.” Yin Wuzhi opened his Moments feed. “Look—my dad went fishing while we were at the amusement park, Uncle Qi posted pictures of his succulents, and our math teacher attended a banquet today. You can see all of this.”
Yin Wuzhi’s feed was lively. Jiang Wu picked up his phone and opened his own Moments. The first post he saw was from his mom: “Father-son bond.”
The accompanying picture showed Jiang Wu slumped dejectedly on a carousel horse, head barely lifted to obscure his raised butt. His dad, standing behind him, made a playful peace sign.
As Jiang Wu scrolled down, Yin Wuzhi’s comment came into view: “Lazy cat with a raised butt—saving this for a meme [cat emoji].”
Jiang Mom replied: [Knock emoji] Good thing Ah Wu doesn’t go online.
Jiang Dad laughed mercilessly: Hahaha, our little lazy cat must be so tired today.
Jiang Wu: “.”
He turned to look at Yin Wuzhi.
Yin Wuzhi, who happened to scroll to the same post, met his gaze and said sincerely, “I already deleted it.”
“.”
“I swear I didn’t turn it into a meme.”
“.”
“Do I look like the type to share your pictures around?”
“.”
Yin Wuzhi slowly handed over his phone.
Jiang Wu took it expressionlessly, opened the photo album, and saw an edited meme that Yin Wuzhi had already saved but hadn’t deleted from his gallery.
In the picture, Jiang Wu’s sullen face was replaced with a cat head. The caption read: “Cat-cat raised-butt slay.”
Yin Wuzhi: “…”
Ten minutes later, Yin Wuzhi was kicked out of the Jiang household, wearing only his slippers. Another ten minutes later, Jiang Mom deleted her post, and Jiang Dad delivered a plate of sliced fruit to Jiang Wu’s room, sincerely apologizing for laughing with “outsiders.”
Jiang Wu generously accepted the apology: “It’s all Yin Wuzhi’s fault. I understand.”
After that incident, Jiang Wu refused to share a car with Yin Wuzhi, wouldn’t let him carry his bags, and declined any form of help.
He either dragged himself up the stairs or exercised his “gold sponsor” privileges by having classmates A, B, or C carry him to the dorms and even fetch his meals.
Yin Wuzhi, sitting on his dorm bed, watched the three classmates surrounding Jiang Wu with a blank expression.
No matter how he looked, they all seemed to have ulterior motives toward Jiang Wu.
Classmate C even had the audacity to wipe Jiang Wu’s mouth with his hand. Disgusting.
Then there was classmate B, who helped Jiang Wu lie down and even adjusted his pillow. What are you, a professional caregiver?
And classmate A? With those chicken-scratch handwriting skills, how dare you offer to help Jiang Wu with homework? You’re not worthy.
Yin Wuzhi walked over with a glass of water. “Do you want…”
B cut him off politely, “Here’s 55°C warm water. He doesn’t need yours.”
…I could strangle you.
The most important thing was that Jiang Wu’s messaging app had been contaminated by these people.
Originally, it had been a clean space, with only Yin Wuzhi on his friend list. Now, whenever Yin Wuzhi checked Jiang Wu’s profile, he’d see their likes and comments.
For example, one day Jiang Wu posted: “.”
A commented: “I found a really delicious peach. I’ll bring it tomorrow for you to try.”
B commented: “The temperature will only be 3°C tomorrow. Remember to wear a sweater and a thick coat.”
C commented: “Miss you! Muah, see you tomorrow!”
Yin Wuzhi had serious objections to C!
Even the girl offering the free meal plan had to chime in: “Make sure to wear an undershirt under the sweater since sweaters can be drafty. Otherwise, you’ll have to keep the zipper of your jacket up all the time, and that might be a hassle.”
Expressionless, Yin Wuzhi gave the comment a thumbs-up.
The next morning, Jiang Wu wore a sweater and a thick coat with a white undershirt underneath.
By noon, he was enjoying peaches that A had peeled, cut, and soaked in warm water for him.
Yin Wuzhi: “.”
That A—was he serving Jiang Wu peaches or acting like the emperor had granted him gold?
But Jiang Wu seemed to enjoy them. He ate them for three days straight.
That night, Yin Wuzhi went online and ordered a batch of supposedly super sweet, super delicious peaches—better than whatever A had brought.
When the package arrived at noon, Yin Wuzhi received the delivery notification and couldn’t sit still. Resisting the urge to rush out, he finally turned to Jiang Wu.
“I’m coming over to your place tonight to bring you something tasty.”
Jiang Wu ignored him.
Yin Wuzhi muttered, “Don’t be mad at me, okay? Look, I haven’t helped you with homework lately. It’s awkward to keep bothering that girl.”
Jiang Wu closed his eyes.
That afternoon, Yin Wuzhi rushed home and immediately went to find the peaches he’d bought.
His mom said, “Are these those fancy peaches the emperor supposedly ate?”
“Exactly. They’re the specialty peaches from Shengguo Temple.”
“Oh, your dad happened to be meeting a friend today. He thought those peaches looked great and took them as a gift.”
Yin Wuzhi: “?”
His mom added, “You can just buy more.”
???
Jiang Wu was lying on his bed when he suddenly heard the loud sound of an iron gate slamming outside.
The Yin residence wasn’t far from his own, and Jiang Wu recognized it as their gate being struck. Slowly, he got up and walked to the window just in time to see Yin Wuzhi striding furiously deeper into the villa complex, followed by his mother, Chang Yuxiu, shuffling in her slippers. She seemed startled.
“What are you throwing a tantrum for? It’s just a few peaches! Can’t you just buy more?”
At that moment, Jiang Wu’s mother stepped outside to see what was going on and asked, “What happened?”
“This kid bought a box of peaches. His dad, not knowing what else to gift a client, took them along. Who knew he’d get so upset?”
Jiang Wu’s mother sighed. “I’ll go talk to him.”
“Leave him be. He’s just spoiled. Who knows what’s gotten into him lately—his temper’s been awful.”
“Honestly, you can’t just take your kid’s stuff without asking, even if it’s something small…”
Chang Yuxiu, feeling slightly guilty, said, “It’s just a few peaches. How was I supposed to know he’d care so much? I already said we’d give him money to buy more.”
Just then, a figure slowly approached on a hoverboard.
Upon closer inspection, it was Jiang Wu, effortlessly gliding over.
He stopped in front of them and said to Chang Yuxiu, “You and your husband owe your child an apology.”
Chang Jinwen frowned. “Who are you to say that?”
Jiang Wu glanced at her indifferently, turned his hoverboard around, and left them with, “At least call and ask if the peaches can still be retrieved.”
In the neighborhood’s central garden, a boy in a school uniform sat on a swing, swaying back and forth.
The faint hum of wheels approached.
The boy grumbled coldly, “Scram. Don’t bother me.”
The sound persisted, edging closer.
The boy raised his face gloomily. “I told you—”
His expression shifted seamlessly to silent grievance, his eyes reddening.
Jiang Wu stood before him, phone in hand, snapping a photo of his teary, aggrieved face.
Click.
He looked down and began editing the picture.
“Crying puppy.jpg”
