Chapter 5: Brother, I Was Bullied

Early the next morning, Li Fuling woke up.

He opened the wardrobe and took out a navy blue school uniform with white trim. After carefully putting it on, he turned in front of the mirror.

The boy in the mirror was no longer the child from the orphanage wearing ill-fitting old clothes, which stirred a faint, unfamiliar excitement in his heart.

Then, he remembered his father’s instructions, and that excitement faded slightly.

He took a deep breath and headed toward the hidden attic. Pushing the door open, the familiar scent of sandalwood and dimness enveloped him.

He didn’t dare look up, let alone examine the seven snakes coiled behind the Guanyin statue. He quickly and properly kowtowed three times, inserted three incense sticks into the burner, and retreated as if fleeing.

At the breakfast table, Shen Jici’s seat was already empty.

Madam Yu gently straightened his collar. Jici is impatient and left by car first. A-Ling, behave well at school.

Li Fuling nodded, understanding that Shen Jici simply didn’t want to go with him.

The grandeur of Huangying High School far exceeded his expectations. Beyond the ornate iron gates lay vast lawns and red-brick buildings with pointed roofs.

The students wore similar uniforms but carried an innate air of ease and arrogance.

During his self-introduction in class, he could feel the scrutinizing and curious gazes from below.

He took a seat in the back.

His deskmate was named Yan Yichen, who seemed sunny and cheerful and initiated conversation with him.

However, when Yan Yichen’s smiling eyes occasionally turned serious, Li Fuling inexplicably sensed a subtle, sharp coldness that made him uncomfortable.

Sure enough, within just two or three classes, Yan Yichen seemed to have pieced together his background from others’ chatter.

Oh—so you’re the new adopted son of the Shen family?

Yan Yichen’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for those nearby to hear. The enthusiasm on his face instantly vanished, replaced by a mix of disdain and curiosity.

What did you used to do? Were you a little beggar? From the mountains? Or did you grow up in an orphanage? Why did your birth parents abandon you?

Li Fuling clenched his hands under the desk, his knuckles turning white. He looked up and said, Everyone has their own life path. No matter what the past was like, I am who I am. Please don’t make malicious assumptions about others.

Heh, Yan Yichen sneered, looking him up and down as if examining a flawed product. What nonsense, lecturing me now.

Li Fuling felt a tightness in his chest, and sadness crept up like tiny vines.

The faint, sweeping glances from around him seemed to carry the same judgment, isolating him behind an invisible barrier.

He lowered his head and focused on his textbook.

These people… are all terrible.

But it’s okay, he told himself silently. He was here to study. Attend classes properly, avoid trouble, and make his father and mother feel at ease.

His foundation was much weaker than his classmates’, so he had to work very hard to keep up with the teacher’s train of thought. Fortunately, it was still the beginning of the school year, and there was time to catch up.

When the class bell rang, Li Fuling went to the restroom.

Upon returning, he paused in front of his seat—there was a murky, yellowish stain on his chair, slowly dripping onto the floor.

An exaggerated voice rang out, dripping with undisguised malice, Oh my! New kid, did you just wet your pants? How disgusting!

Someone immediately chimed in nearby, He looks clean, how can he be so unhygienic?

The gazes of surrounding classmates converged on him like countless fine needles.

Yan Yichen stood with arms crossed, leaning against a nearby desk, a bold sneer hanging at the corner of his mouth.

Li Fuling pressed his lips tightly together. He neither argued nor looked at anyone, silently pulling out a thick stack of tissues before crouching beside his seat. He wiped the chair surface and floor methodically, stroke after stroke.

He cleaned thoroughly until the tissues could absorb no more moisture, then calmly returned to his seat as if nothing had happened.

From behind came Yan Yichen’s dissatisfied tutting, clearly displeased with his reaction.

The afternoon hours crawled by in a suffocating atmosphere.

The harassment targeting Li Fuling didn’t cease but instead intensified.

His fountain pen was deliberately knocked to the floor, the nib instantly bent out of shape.

When returning to his seat, he’d find squirming, creepy insects inside his backpack.

Walking through corridors, unfriendly shoulders would always accidentally bump into him.

These so-called upper-class peers enveloped him in their most childish yet hurtful malice, wrapping around him like an impenetrable spiderweb.

Clenching his lower lip, Li Fuling swallowed all grievances and anger, enduring each minute with immense difficulty.

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