Wen Moxue was not a local, and his family situation was different from what he had told Fu Cheng.
Most importantly, he was male. There was no way he could let anyone accompany him home, or everything would be exposed.
He quickly replied.
A Xiao Li: Forget it. I do not want brother or anyone else to see my ugly family and pitiful state.
A Xiao Li: It is fine. I can buy pretty clothes later. Once I earn more money, I can buy the clothes I like.
A Xiao Li: Xiao Li will work hard to become stronger. (Clenching fist)
Fu: Good.
Seeing that Fu Cheng had no intention of insisting on helping him, Wen Moxue wiped a sweat quietly.
At that moment, the subway arrived. He was about to put his phone away and exit when it buzzed again.
Fu transferred 100000 yuan to you.
Wen Moxue: !!!
He could not help rubbing his eyes and pinching his thigh to confirm he was not dreaming. Seeing the full 100,000 yuan, he could not help but click his tongue.
No matter what else, Fu Cheng was truly rich.
Ten thousand yuan given just like that. How wealthy must he be?
After the initial shock, Wen Moxue could not hide his joy.
Ha ha ha, he got his hands on it after all.
The old man’s money was easy to scoop up.
So easy.
He restrained the urge to immediately spend it and quickly typed.
A Xiao Li: QAQ Brother, why did you suddenly give me so much money?
Fu: To buy clothes for you.
A Xiao Li: Brother, are you sympathizing with me? (Crying)
Fu: "…"
Fu: Consider it a loan.
Wen Moxue: "…"
He wanted to slap himself. Always so dramatic, always so dramatic.
Fu: A Double Eleven gift. Accept it.
Wen Moxue glanced at the calendar. Double Eleven was still ten days away.
Early celebration for e-commerce, huh.
A Xiao Li: Wow, this is the first gift from brother.
A Xiao Li: Then I will accept it. Thank you, brother. ^_^
After typing, Wen Moxue quickly received the money and opened his “calendar.”
November 1, got 100,000 yuan from the dog man. Hehe, hehe heh.
—
The next day, Wen Moxue deliberately wore a pair of jeans with a sweater and white sneakers, covering himself completely for work.
Weekends were the busiest time at the teahouse. Wen Moxue spent the entire afternoon rushing around without a break. By seven o’clock, he finally had time for a quick meal, not even bothering to fix his makeup. The supervisor hurried over, saying a black-gold client specifically requested him and that he needed to prepare quickly.
He rushed to the dressing room to fix his makeup and bumped into another tea artist, apparently named Lin Ling, coming out.
Lin Ling was also very pretty. Wen Moxue had heard that before his arrival, she was the “top artist” at the teahouse.
He stepped aside to let her pass, but as Lin Ling went by, she bumped hard against his arm and muttered, “Bastard.”
Wen Moxue had no previous interaction with Lin Ling and did not understand her outburst.
He frowned. “Did I offend you?”
Lin Ling sneered. “You know perfectly well. Shameless.”
Wen Moxue truly did not know, but he was in a hurry, so he went in to finish his makeup.
When he came out, he ran into Chen Jiajia on the way to the restroom.
Wen Moxue quietly asked, “Does Lin Ling have a grudge against me?”
Chen Jiajia covered her mouth, laughing softly. “She was the one maintaining Mr. Zhang, the black-gold client. Today he requested you, and she was furious. She even threw her water cup just now.”
Wen Moxue understood. It was workplace competition.
She could not retain the client herself, so she took it out on him. Amusing.
In fact, besides Fu Cheng, Wen Moxue treated all clients equally. Black-gold or platinum made no difference to him.
But seeing Lin Ling’s furious face, he felt a bit satisfied. He hated being insulted. If the other party were not a woman, he might have gone over and slapped her.
Wen Moxue, a man, did not care for female rivalry. But before entering Mr. Zhang’s private room, he deliberately gave Lin Ling a provocative glance. Then he heard a loud crash behind him. He did not know what she had thrown.
He walked into the private room, about to step around the screen when he heard a familiar voice, stopping him in his tracks.
“Wen Qianqian, interesting name,” the voice said playfully. “If the gender were different, I would have suspected my good younger brother came here to be the top artist.”
Wen Moxue’s face darkened immediately.
Wen Heng, how could he be here?
“Oh? Your younger brother is in Haishi too?”
“Mm, a top student and very pretty.”
He emphasized “pretty” with a tone of lingering appreciation.
Wen Moxue gripped the tray tightly and turned to leave the room.
The supervisor, seeing him come out with a bad expression, was startled and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Wen Moxue pressed his lips together. “I am not feeling well. I want to take leave.”
“Huh? Where do you feel unwell? You seemed fine just now.”
Wen Moxue held his stomach, improvising. “I have my period, and it hurts.”
The supervisor looked at the area he was holding skeptically, thinking, “Do periods hurt here?”
“I have Ibuprofen, take one. Hang in there. After serving these two clients, I will let you off.”
The black-gold client specifically requested him. The supervisor could not easily explain his leaving.
“I cannot hang in there.” Wen Moxue placed the tray in her hands. “Sorry, I am leaving.”
He quickly changed, grabbed his phone, and left the teahouse.
Only when the cold late-autumn wind hit him did his racing heart calm slightly, though his mood remained terrible.
In fact, his family situation was even worse than what he had told Fu Cheng.
He was a child of a mistress. His birth mother knew and accepted this.
She had thought that by giving birth to him, she could gain power over the original wife and reach the peak of life.
But his father was strict with his wife. Once the affair was exposed, he did not dare make a move.
His mother, resentful, left him with the Wen family when he was just a month old and sought another wealthy partner.
It was obvious how difficult life was for Wen Moxue as an illegitimate child in the Wen family.
When his grandfather was alive, things were better. The elder took pity on him, kept him close, and taught him personally. Wen Moxue learned tea-making and guzheng alongside his grandfather.
But at thirteen, his grandfather passed away, and he had to live with his father’s family.
Being the child of a mistress in the original family was hard enough. He was competitive, unwilling to suffer losses, and he was meticulous in small matters.
As a child, he could not raise his head because of his mother’s actions and became sensitive.
As he grew older, he realized he could not choose being the child of a mistress. He did not use this identity to fight for wealth or gain any benefit.
They hated, so they went after the unfaithful father and mistress.
Why should his father be forgiven and reunite happily with the original wife? Why should his mother find another rich man and marry into wealth? He, unable to choose his birth or fate, had to bear all scorn and blame.
If his existence was wrong, they should have abandoned him to an orphanage when he could not resist.
Since they did not, they could not blame him for existing.
He believed he acted rightly, and no one could judge him by his mother’s deeds.
Yet Wen Heng, his half-brother, disliked him at every turn, calling him a bastard, a product of a despicable woman. He claimed Wen Moxue would grow up shameless, materialistic, and willing to sleep with wealthy men. They fought often.
Wen Heng was seven years older and would pin him down and beat him. He endured the bruises silently, knowing no one would help, but still fought back when Wen Heng insulted him.
Until…
Wen Moxue closed his eyes and erased those memories.
He did not want to return to school and wandered aimlessly through the streets.
His phone buzzed several times. Notifications were all from WeChat. At work, to avoid exposing himself, he used a secondary account.
Probably messages from colleagues or supervisors. He did not want to read them.
In a bad mood, he felt like kicking every dog he passed.
After a while, the phone rang via WeChat. Annoyed, he was about to hang up but saw that it was Fu Cheng calling.
He hesitated between answering and hanging up, then chose to pick up just as the call was about to end.
“What's wrong, brother?”
“Where are you?” Fu Cheng asked bluntly.
The teahouse knew Wen Qianqian was his person. Seeing her leave in a hurry, the supervisor had informed him, worried something happened.
Wen Moxue lied, “I am not feeling well. I was just about to head home. I will treat you another time.”
“Send me your location. I will have the driver bring you. Five minutes.”
Wen Moxue had suspected his company or home was near the teahouse. Hearing five minutes confirmed it.
But he could not let the driver pick him up. That would reveal his home. If Fu Cheng found him, escape would be impossible.
“No need, brother. I will take a cab. I am not that unwell. Mainly, I am in a bad mood.”
Wen Moxue began telling a fabricated sad story fluently. “I worked today despite not feeling well. Thinking I should have been a wealthy young lady but now have to study and work for living expenses, I suddenly broke down.”
He even added a slight sob.
Fu Cheng could not see him. Fake or real, crying worked.
Fu Cheng spoke in a calm tone but with warmth: “Next time you feel unwell, take leave. Do not push yourself.”
“I thought I could endure. Sorry for worrying you, brother.”
“No need to apologize. It is not your fault.”
From childhood, Wen Moxue loved hearing, “It is not your fault.”
“Yes,” he kicked a tree. “I am not wrong. They are garbage.”
He cursed aloud but suddenly remembered his gentle, cute image and quickly changed his tone. “…Ate too much food, indigestion, bloating, acid reflux, ulcers, losing money does not prevent disaster, drinking water gives cavities. All the people with rotten teeth.”
Fu Cheng: "…"
Fu Cheng seemed amused. His tone softened slightly. “Go back early. It is cold outside.”
“Oh,” Wen Moxue said, feeling lighter, deliberately adding, “It is a pity I dressed nicely today, and brother did not see it.”
Silence on the other end.
Wen Moxue pouted and stopped pretending, ignoring him.
A night wind blew, chilling him. He had been wandering aimlessly.
As he was about to say goodbye and end the call to take a cab home, he suddenly heard Fu Cheng say: “You can take photos and send them to me…”