Qiu Qiu successfully advanced through the semifinals, and his family was genuinely happy for him.
Teacher Dong, from across the ocean, sent the video of her son's competition to all her students. She even used the official two-hundred-word press release as extracurricular reading for her foreign students, annotating the pronunciation for any characters they didn't recognize.
Teacher Qiu, keeping up with the times, sent a red envelope in the family group chat. Uncle Shang, quick as lightning, snatched it, only to find it contained a mere thirty-two cents.
Even Qiu Qiu couldn't bear to watch.
Autumn is the Autumn in Qiu Qiu: Teacher Qiu, you're too stingy, only thirty-two cents...
I am Old Qiu: Thirty-two cents in our day was enough to buy a whole pound of pork.
I am Old Qiu: You're still a student; your focus should be on your studies. Although you won the first round of the singing competition, you must guard against arrogance and impatience, and not forget your primary task. Old Wang told me you have two papers due next week.
Qiu Qiu was now in the second semester of his junior year. He had completed all his elective and required courses over the past three years, so he wouldn't need to report back to school just for attendance during his senior year and could focus on internships instead.
Actually, he was a good student and smart. Back in elementary school, his homeroom teacher had discussed letting him skip a grade with his parents, but Qiu's father firmly refused—"Why should he grow up so fast? It's not like I have a throne urgently waiting for him to inherit."
So, while other child prodigies worked hard to skip grades and adapt to the social rules of older kids, Qiu Qiu leisurely progressed through each grade level. With little academic pressure, he had time to explore other interests, and learning to play the guitar was one of them.
However, everyone in the family (including Qiu Qiu himself) placed playing music and singing after academics. In their view, participating in a talent show was like taking part in a school performance—just for the experience of participating.
For example, Qiu's father was particularly skilled at playing the erhu. He would take the stage every year at the publishing house's New Year's party to show off his skills, but he never once considered quitting his job as editor-in-chief to become a professional street musician like Abing.
The entertainment industry? Being a big star? Their whole family were scholars who kept their heads down in their studies. That glamorous, dazzling world was far too distant for them.
Although the competition was important, the rapidly approaching exam month was even more crucial.
The day after the semifinals ended, Qiu Qiu started camping out in the library to write his papers. He was still in a T-shirt, jeans, and a backpack. On the table sat a bulky laptop he'd used for three years, paired with a thermos mug printed with the phrase "Instant Success." Aside from the cafeteria ladies secretly giving him an extra half-scoop of food, Qiu Qiu didn't feel that participating in the competition had brought any changes to his life.
Little Li had sought him out a few times during this period, wanting to discuss customizing new fan support merchandise. Qiu Qiu now dodged her whenever he saw her. If he couldn't avoid her, he'd ask Da Xiong to help brush her off. Da Xiong absolutely admired her, pulling her aside to discuss her new works, asking if she would ever finish that abandoned fanfic where "Qiu Qiu" was a pregnant omega.
...Just listening to them discuss the story's premise made Qiu Qiu feel like he was about to get his period.
...
Another week passed, and the busy Fu Ruien finally found time to meet with Qiu Qiu.
Before the exam month began, Qiu Qiu ended his part-time tutoring jobs. The parents paid him his semester's wages, and the little squirrel's treasure trove instantly gained a few more golden melon seeds.
Qiu Qiu had bookmarked many specialty restaurants on food apps but could never find anyone to go try them with him. Finally having the chance, he eagerly shared over a dozen restaurant links in the WeChat chat. This one served Hong Kong-style dim sum, that one served Hunan cuisine. Qiu Qiu picked and chose until his eyes were crossed.
Qiu Qiu asked distressingly, "Godfather, what kind of food would you like? My treat."
Fu Ruien, video-chatting with him while simultaneously reviewing documents, said offhandedly, "No dish is as delicious as the ones you make."
Oh my, the little squirrel quickly used his tail to cover his blushing face.
Since the Xiangjiang villa was far from the city center—a round trip would take a whole day—and Qiu Qiu was in his review period with no time to spare, Fu Ruien thought it over and had his driver deliver the keys to an apartment to Qiu Qiu.
Only then did Qiu Qiu learn that his godfather owned such a high-rise luxury apartment in the city center. Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor and looking down, most of the city lay at his feet, the bustling financial world seemingly within reach.
Such a prime location with such high-end decor—Qiu Qiu adored it. This place was far better than the Xiangjiang villa. That place was big but felt empty. And here, there was subway access, a supermarket right downstairs, so there was no longer any need to trek all the way into the city to buy groceries like an ant moving its nest.
When Fu Ruien returned home from work, he discovered that the world inside his door was, for the first time, filled with the warmth of a home. An extra pair of sneakers that weren't his sat in the shoe cabinet, a hoodie printed with a school name hung on the coat rack, a backpack was tossed on the living room sofa, and a few notebooks were scattered on the coffee table and floor.
Just these few small changes made the very air in the house feel warmer.
The aroma of creamy soup wafted from the open-plan kitchen. Qiu Qiu, wearing a floral apron left behind by the housekeeper, was holding a ladle, contentedly tasting his creation.
Fu Ruien, barefoot on the wooden floor, walked around behind Qiu Qiu. He placed one hand on the counter beside him and naturally leaned his head over, casually requesting, "Feed me a bite."
Qiu Qiu was startled by his sudden appearance but obediently scooped up a spoonful. He first blew on it twice by his own mouth before feeding it to Fu Ruien.
Qiu's father didn't like Western food. Whenever Qiu Qiu made something foreign at home, he could only eat it alone. Thankfully, his godfather didn't mind. As long as Qiu Qiu made it, he would eat every last bite clean.
The two of them stood by the stove watching the pot, not even thinking to grab a second spoon. One taking a bite, the other feeding a bite, the atmosphere was sweetly perfect.
Fu Ruien tentatively placed both hands on Qiu Qiu's waist, his palms gently rubbing the sensitive area. The waist beneath his hands was slender and flexible, and in this way, his sugar baby was completely enveloped in his embrace.
Fu Ruien swallowed the sweet, creamy soup and nuzzled his chin against Qiu Qiu's cheek, hinting with meaning, "Qiu Qiu, don't you think we're like... an old married couple?"
"Huh?" Qiu Qiu blurted out, "Shouldn't it be 'an old husband and a young wife'?"
"..."
The "old husband" was so frustrated that he almost had an age-related episode.
Before meeting Qiu Qiu, Fu Ruien had always been very confident. He felt he was in his prime, full of vigor and strength, experienced, with a mind that remained constantly alert—he believed he was the most charming man in the world.
But his precious "son" was only half his age. The gap between them wasn't a generation gap; it was the Mariana Trench. All the advantages Fu Ruien took pride in, in front of Qiu Qiu, only one—"wealthy"—was left worth mentioning.
Although he knew full well the age difference between them was a reality, Fu Ruien still worried about it.
He left Qiu Qiu to go change his clothes in a huff. When he came out, Qiu Qiu was honestly lying on the coffee table, reading a book.
Qiu Qiu had a freshly made plate of black pepper beef stir-fry with spaghetti by his side. His eyes were fixed on his book, while his chopsticks randomly picked up a strand and brought it to his mouth. With a "slurp," he sucked it all in, puffed out his cheeks to chew a couple of times, swallowed with a "gulp," and then picked up the next strand to eat.
...Fu Ruien suspected that Qiu Qiu had cast a spell on him; otherwise, how could he find even the way Qiu Qiu ate noodles incredibly cute?
Seeing Fu Ruien arrive, Qiu Qiu finally decided to put down his textbook. He pulled five thick stacks of Renminbi from his backpack and placed them in Fu Ruien's palm like offering a treasure.
The money was clearly freshly withdrawn from the bank. Each stack was neatly arranged, bound with a paper strap, and piled together like five pink bricks, heavy and substantial.
"This is the first time I've ever earned so much money," Qiu Qiu said, feeling particularly proud of himself.
Fu Ruien smiled and said, "Satisfied already? If you pass the regional finals, you can get another hundred thousand."
Qiu Qiu was filled with longing: "In that case, I'd only owe you twenty-nine million, nine hundred and twenty thousand left."
His life was like a dictionary of complimentary terms, containing no "foolish old man who moved mountains" or "idle daydreams," only "steady and sure progress" and "one step at a time."
Suddenly, Fu Ruien felt a sense of urgency. He desperately wanted to spend more money on Qiu Qiu, preferably making it impossible for him to ever pay it back in his lifetime.
"By the way, Godfather, this place has a great environment and convenient transportation. It's only three stops from our university. We should have met here before, saving me a whole day wasted traveling back and forth to the villa each time."
Fu Ruien was momentarily speechless.
Qiu Qiu was terribly oblivious. Even though the Xiangjiang Villa was far from the city center, he was always driven there and back by a chauffeur, and he never received a key to the villa... he had never realized that villa was a place Fu Ruien specifically used to keep a lover.
Fu Ruien went there each time to relieve his desires. It was just that Qiu Qiu's luck was absurdly good. In the past three months, they had met five or six times, and each time, just before things got serious, Fu Ruien would be called away due to company matters.
So, after all this back and forth, the first key his sugar baby received actually belonged to the sugar daddy's private residence.
Fu Ruien was a shrewd man. He deliberately steered the conversation back: "If you like it here, why not just move in? My bed is big, and the wifi is fast."
Qiu Qiu wasn't foolish. He knew exactly what was going on in his godfather's head and wasn't about to fall for that trap.
Back then, when the two of them slept in one bed, it was called "a filial son warming the bed for his parent." Now, if the two of them slept in one bed, it would be called "a loving couple nestled together."
Qiu Qiu said with firm resolve, "Unless my dorm bed collapses, I won't be staying over."
Fu Ruien wasn't angered by the rebuttal. He suggested with a smile, "How about I go stay at your dorm tonight? Let's work hard to collapse your hard board bed, and then we can just move back here tomorrow."
Qiu Qiu was frightened by his threat: "...B-but, Da Xiong is also in my dorm."
"Since he's a bear, I believe he's quite good at hibernating."
Qiu Qiu: /(ㄒoㄒ)/~~
...
One early morning, Qiu Qiu, as usual, carried his backpack to the library to grab a seat. Before the seat could even get warm, he received a call from Da Xiong.
As soon as the call connected, Da Xiong started wailing. Despite being a guy over two hundred pounds, his words were a jumbled mess. Several minutes passed without him managing to say a single clear sentence.
Qiu Qiu was frantic with worry: "Stop crying, what on earth happened?"
Da Xiong sobbed, "Qiu... you... you need to come back and see, our dorm is gone!"
What did he mean, the dorm was gone?
Qiu Qiu didn't understand, but his intuition told him it was serious. He pedaled his bike as if riding on wind and fire wheels, rushing to the dormitory building in no time.
Actually, he had noticed something wrong from three hundred meters away—looking into the distance, he saw thick smoke billowing into the sky, and the location of the fire was precisely the Male Dormitory Building No. 4! Half the wall of Building No. 4 was blackened by smoke. Fire trucks were parked below, and firefighters on the aerial ladder were aiming water hoses at the source of the fire, spraying vigorously.
Da Xiong and over a dozen other students were wrapped in blankets, sitting on the flower bed at the dorm entrance. Da Xiong's face was streaked with tears, staring blankly at the ground. His despondent look resembled a Winnie the Pooh who had just had his honey stolen.
Seeing Qiu Qiu arrive, Da Xiong seemed to find his pillar of support. He threw a bear hug around him, trembling nonstop.
It turned out someone in the dorm had been illegally using a high-power electric kettle, which short-circuited and ignited the wiring. Their dorm was right next to the power distribution room. With the dry conditions, the fire spread rapidly. Da Xiong had been sleeping like a log and almost became smoked bear meat.
He had escaped in such a hurry that he hadn't brought anything, not even bothering to put on slippers. His two big bear paws had a layer of skin scalded off.
After the fire was extinguished, Qiu Qiu and several other uninjured classmates went into the dorm to retrieve personal belongings. The others managed to salvage various bits and pieces, but only Qiu Qiu's dorm was burned like a duck-roasting oven. As far as the eye could see, everything was pitch-black ash.
The school arranged for the students to stay at a nearby hotel, but due to limited rooms, local students weren't provided accommodation. The school issued a notice suggesting everyone go home to rest.
...But Qiu Qiu's mother was far away in Europe, his father had gone to another city for a lecture, and his house key had long been burned into a lump of metal in the fire.
He stood under the dormitory building, thinking for a long time, before hesitantly dialing the phone number pinned at the top of his contacts list.
The exclusive ringtone sounded in the top-floor conference room of Enrui Group. Fu Ruien immediately halted the meeting, picked up his phone, and walked out.
Fu Ruien's voice was always steady and reliable: "What's wrong, Qiu Qiu?"
Qiu Qiu: "...Godfather, can I stay at your place for a while?"
Fu Ruien didn't understand why Qiu Qiu suddenly agreed to cohabitate and teased him with a smile, "What's the matter, did your bed collapse?"
"No..." Qiu Qiu looked back at the half-burnt dormitory building behind him, his tone bewildered and utterly pitiful, "...my dorm collapsed."
"???"
