TWMOV Chapter 7: The Poor Little Thing Who Suffered Domestic Abuse 07
Originally, Liang Han wanted to use the last of the vegetables to make a bowl of noodles for Yu Mu, but Yu Mu, claiming he was too tired after a long day, sent him home to sleep.
It was a hot night. Yu Mu opened the window. The small fan next to his bed creaked as it turned, and the wind it blew wasn’t even cool.
While waiting for Liang Han, a few mosquitoes bit him. Now they were itching like crazy. After scratching a few times and still unable to fall asleep, he gave up and started chatting with the system.
Yu Mu: System, when do you think I’ll max out Liang Han’s affection points?
[That depends on how much effort you’re willing to put in,] the system explained. [The affection scale is five hearts. Three means he likes you, four means he’s in love, and five means deep, unforgettable love.]
Yu Mu paused mid-scratch: Didn’t you say the villain only had a crush on his teacher, the white moonlight? What’s with this “deep love” business? He’s a sixteen-year-old kid, what does he know about deep love?
The system was silent for a moment before responding,
[Emotions aren’t defined by age. And Liang Han isn’t your typical sixteen-year-old. In his life, no one’s ever helped him the way you have—asking for nothing in return. When he pushed your hand away back then, it was because he didn’t want you involved in his life. But you held on, and gave him a promise...]
[For people like him—obsessive villains—there are only two ways they treat others: indifference or never letting go. And once they latch on, it’s until death. That kind of emotion absolutely qualifies as deep love—it’s not something he can control.]
Yu Mu: ...Wow, System. Didn’t know you were an expert in relationships.
[I dabble.]
Yu Mu: ...
The mosquito bite on his toe itched again. Yu Mu scratched it, then asked curiously, So does this “deep love” include... wanting to do that with me?
[Of course.]
Yu Mu froze.
That night, he didn’t sleep well.
For three reasons:
One, it was really hot.
Two, the system’s words left him speechless.
Three, he had a dream.
He dreamed about the day Qi Yuan confessed to him—something he hadn’t recalled in years.
He was in his junior year of college, and Qi Yuan was still in high school—around Liang Han’s age.
Even though it was just before the college entrance exam, Qi Yuan kept coming to see him. Yu Mu had tried to talk him out of it, but the kid wouldn’t listen.
Back then, Yu Mu was dating a sweet and beautiful girl. He was so caught up in the relationship that he neglected Qi Yuan.
Qi Yuan had called him several times, asking to meet, but Yu Mu never had time.
One day, during class, Qi Yuan stood outside the classroom door waiting until class ended.
Yu Mu walked out with his girlfriend, laughing, only to see the beautiful boy standing there, face dark and eyes sharp as knives toward the girl.
But when his gaze fell on Yu Mu, it melted into a warm smile.
Yu Mu scolded him for skipping school, but Qi Yuan just grabbed his sleeve and said he needed to talk.
They went back to Yu Mu’s dorm. As soon as the door shut, Qi Yuan pushed him against it and kissed him.
No—bit him. Hard. So hard that blood welled up, staining Yu Mu’s pale lips red.
“Red really does look good,” Qi Yuan said with a slightly deranged expression, eyes pleading. “Mu-ge, I like you. Can you break up with her?”
That’s where the dream ended.
Yu Mu woke up, remembering the cruel words he’d shouted back then. The guilt nearly drowned him.
He had to finish the mission quickly. Revive Qi Yuan. Apologize properly.
Still sore and exhausted, Yu Mu got up, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and didn’t bother shaving. He boiled four eggs, ate two, then took the remaining two, threw on a T-shirt and shorts, and shuffled outside in flip-flops with a stool.
The courtyard was already lively with neighbors eating breakfast. The Zhangs invited him to join, but he declined. It was 7:30 a.m. He glanced at the Liang family’s house—no signs of movement.
Feeling bored, he asked the system how much longer it would take for Liang Han to return from quitting his job.
[Don’t worry. He’s just about to arrive at the gate.]
Just as the words fell, Liang Han stepped into the courtyard. Yu Mu’s eyes lit up.
He curled his fingers in a beckoning motion, and Liang Han, like a puppy, trotted over with a smile.
He rarely smiled before, but Yu Mu had once told him his smile looked good—so now, every time he saw Yu Mu, he smiled.
“Teacher Yu, I quit the job,” Liang Han said, standing beside him. His tall, thin frame cast a shadow, shielding Yu Mu from the sun.
“Good boy,” Yu Mu praised, handing him one of the eggs. “Eat. I saved it for you.”
Feeding Liang Han breakfast had become Yu Mu’s habit.
Liang Han took it without protest, cracked it, and started eating.
Yu Mu lit a cigarette, went inside, and brought out a glass of water. “Later we’ll go buy groceries. Make me a good meal for lunch.”
“Okay.” Liang Han finished the egg and half the water, then glanced at Yu Mu’s jaw—spotting the faint stubble. It hadn’t been there yesterday.
Did he forget to shave?
He had the urge to touch it…
His hand itched. His heart did too. But he chickened out.
He quickly looked away, eyes landing on the cigarette, and asked, “Teacher Yu, what’s it like to smoke?”
“What’s it like, huh...” Yu Mu leaned on his hand, grinning. His narrow eyes tilted up playfully. “You want to know?”
Yu Mu had started smoking in middle school with a group of bad friends. He’d been smoking for over a decade—definitely a seasoned smoker.
Now that Liang Han asked, he decided to mess with him a little.
Under Yu Mu’s gaze, Liang Han’s heart skipped a beat, but he instinctively replied, “Yes.”
“Here, try a puff.” Yu Mu put the half-smoked cigarette into Liang Han’s mouth, fingers still holding it—long and slender.
“Deep breath, let the smoke go through your mouth and nose.”
This was the cigarette Yu Mu smoked!
That thought made Liang Han’s cheeks burn. His mind went blank, and he just followed instructions.
But the smoke accidentally went down the wrong pipe, and he started coughing violently, his eyes turning red.
“Hahaha…” Yu Mu laughed heartlessly, patting him on the back. “Now you know what it’s like?”
He put out the cigarette and threw it in the bin. “It’s harsh and spicy—not really a pleasant thing.”
He meant to scare Liang Han off, hoping he wouldn’t develop a smoking habit like himself.
But what he didn’t know was, because of this tiny moment, Liang Han was completely distracted the entire day. His eyes kept drifting to Yu Mu’s mouth, and after looking, he’d touch his own lips, then smile secretly—like a silly little fool.
Yu Mu bought a fish, some cauliflower, eggplants, mushrooms—asking Liang Han’s preferences while sneakily figuring out his favorite food.
Turned out Liang Han loved potatoes, any way they were cooked.
Easy to please, Yu Mu thought.
Back home, he let Liang Han take over the kitchen, while he went into his room to draft a study plan with a math textbook and notebook.
He taught high school math, and there would be a city-wide math competition in October. First prize: 500 yuan.
In this world—roughly equivalent to the early 2000s—500 yuan was a decent amount.
Liang Han’s tuition and fees added up to nearly a thousand. Even with scholarships, at least 500 would be needed.
If Liang Han could win, it would not only encourage his studies but also solve their urgent financial need.
He planned to tutor Liang Han during the summer.
About an hour later, Liang Han called him to eat: shredded potatoes with green pepper, minced pork eggplant, clear fish soup, and soft, fluffy rice—delicious smells wafting through the room.
Yu Mu was stunned. Even before tasting, he praised it nonstop. After a few bites, he was nearly in tears.
He hadn’t eaten properly in over three months since coming to this world. Eating out was expensive, and money was tight.
But now, tasting such a good meal, he was overwhelmed with gratitude.
“So good,” he muttered, nearly burying his face in the bowl, eating like a starving man.
“As long as you like it,” Liang Han said, smiling so wide he could barely hide it.
For the first time, he felt proud that his cooking made someone happy.
After lunch, Yu Mu told Liang Han about the study plan and the goal of winning the math competition.
Liang Han agreed.
From then on, they spent most of their summer together. At night, Liang Han would go home.
His father’s abuse didn’t lessen, but Liang Han no longer saw life as hopeless.
Sometimes, in a twisted way, he even hoped his father would hit him harder—so Yu Mu would feel more sorry for him, get angry, patch him up, and take care of him.
He thought, If not for the suffering, someone as wonderful as Teacher Yu would never have come into my life.
He knew it was unhealthy thinking—but he couldn’t help it.
At night, sitting at his desk, with the wall thin enough to hear his mother’s moans and his father’s grunts and curses—
Liang Han gripped his pen so hard it nearly snapped. He glanced at the pink hair clip on the desk, then carved into his diary in deep, heavy strokes:
"I really want to be with Teacher Yu forever."
Final Note:
Qi Yuan: I’m a yandere.
Liang Han: What a coincidence, so am I.
Comments
Post a Comment