Chapter 33: So Wronged. Song Qingshu recently discovered...

Song Qingshu recently discovered that He Feng was avoiding him. Before, their intimacy was always initiated by He Feng, but now there was almost no intimacy. They

even slept separately at night.

He was a little confused as to why. He Feng's personality wouldn't allow him to avoid such behavior.

The last time he asked He Feng about it, he'd just told him not to bring it up for now.

Jin Yan returned to the office after class to find Song Qingshu sitting at his desk, staring blankly at a student's homework.

"What's wrong? Is the student's homework terrible?" She sat down and sipped her tea.

Song Qingshu pursed his lips and looked at her. "How was your weekend?"

Jin Yan's face lit up at the mention of this, and she smiled charmingly. "It's done! I've got Teacher Zhao marrying into my family."

Zhu Chengfei pushed open the door and walked in, just in time to hear these words. "Oh, it looks like the wedding is coming soon."

"About a month or so. On National Day, let's go to my house for the wedding banquet," Jin Yan said with a smile, already opening her textbook and beginning to read the lesson plan.

Emotions are contagious. Song Qingshu smiled as he heard about Jin Yan's impending good news.

But when he thought about He Feng's recent situation, the smile faded.

Zhu Chengfei noticed his change and held out an apple. "I just stole it from my dad. Want to try it?"

Song Qingshu saw the green apple in his hand. It had been ages since he'd tasted one like this, but he didn't refuse the offer. "Thank you."

He didn't give it just to Song Qingshu; he turned around and placed another on the desk for Jin Yan and Zhao Yuanhui.

"Hey, Qingshu, how did you learn English? When I was in school, the teachers had such a thick accent, it made me laugh," Jin Yan asked, taking a bite of her apple.

Zhao Yuanhui pushed open the door and walked in, holding a box of peach cakes and handing them to Jin Yan.

When Song Qingshu was in high school, his English teacher's husband was British, so he spoke fluently.

High school was coincidentally when Song Qingshu was studying the hardest, and he excelled in English.

"Ah, the previous teacher was good at English. Her teacher had been to England," Song Qingshu said.

He didn't eat the green apple directly. He had expected it to be crisp, but when Jin Yan ate it, it had a crunchy texture. He didn't like it much, but he could take it home for He Feng.

"No wonder," Jin Yan nodded.

The middle school wasn't big, and the bell wasn't the broadcasting system Song Qingshu remembered. It was a hanging iron cup, seemingly large. Principal Luo would keep a watch and ring it on time.

It looked like it had been hanging under the pine tree for a long time, and it looked heavy. When it struck, the sound was heavy but not muffled, loud enough to carry throughout the campus.

Then the children would run out and come back to the classroom after class started, agreeing on what to do after class.

Song Qingshu had thought that children of his age would be difficult to discipline, but every time he taught them, they were quiet.

Even the usually mischievous ones were much more at peace, only smiling when he read certain words.

He taught them both Chinese and English. Song Qingshu didn't get angry when he saw them using homophones in their English writing, but instead taught them the phonetic symbols again.

Because if any of them went to high school, they'd find that high school teachers assumed they'd already learned the material.

Song Qingshu had to consult the teacher several times privately before he finally mastered it.

"Teacher!" Wang Shun called out, then pointed to his deskmate and said she needed to go to the bathroom. Seeing the girl's face was not looking good, Song Qingshu nodded and let her go.

After class, Wang Shun followed him to the office again, fished out a salted duck egg from his pocket, and handed it to Song Qingshu.

"My mother pickled it herself. Teacher, try it."

With that, the child ran out. Song Qingshu tried to stop him but failed, and he smiled helplessly.

Across from him, Zhu Chengfei looked at his fair face. Beautiful people are naturally liked by everyone, and Song Qingshu was a kind person who prepared candy for the children every day and was never stingy with praise, making him the students' favorite teacher.

In the office, although he didn't talk much, his voice was like the gentle flow of bamboo in the mountains or the clear water of a stream.

Whenever he spoke, everyone would automatically quiet down.

As the homeroom teacher, Zhu Chengfei often made rounds to see if the students were paying attention. In Song Qingshu's class, everyone was incredibly attentive.

Those who usually zoned out, drowsy, or chatted became strangely quiet, listening to him.

He returned to his office to ask for advice, but Song Qingshu smiled and said it must be the candy's allure.

Actually, it wasn't; it was his own allure that was stronger, Zhu Chengfei thought.

Song Qingshu didn't have a class later in the day, and he figured it wasn't far away, so he could go pick up He Feng.

But before he could even leave the school, the weather suddenly turned overcast, and a strange wind picked up.

He looked up at the gradually darkening sky. He wasn't in good health for rain, and the medicine was making him even weaker than before, and he didn't want to get sick again.

So he headed back to his office.

"I thought you'd left," Jin Yan said.

"Oh, I forgot to pick up the salted duck egg, and it looks like it's going to rain. I'd better wait for He Feng to pick it up." He put down his bag and sat down, ready to continue grading homework.

Jin Yan suddenly became interested. "Hey, seriously, my young master is so good to you. He's like raising a child, picking you up every day."

"The kids here are tough and run around from a young age. Our families don't pick them up except to show them the way at the beginning of the school term."

Song Qingshu knew it was the same when his father, the dean, sent him to school. With so much going on at the dean's, he couldn't come pick him up every day, so he'd just carry his small schoolbag and walk slowly on his own. His

original father was busy with work and didn't pick him up often either.

Only He Feng was persistent in picking him up.

Song Qingshu's eyes lit up instantly. He Feng's inexplicable distance wasn't just psychological. If he could take the initiative, then so could he.

"Yes, he's really good to me," Song Qingshu affirmed.

"Did you bring an umbrella?" he suddenly asked Jin Yan.

"Yes, Zhao Yuanhui has one too. If you want to go, you can use mine," Jin Yan said, flipping through her book.

Her classes were over, and she was just waiting for Zhao Yuanhui to finish so they could go out to dinner together.

Song Qingshu nodded and smiled, "Thank you, I'll leave after I finish correcting these homeworks and return them to you tomorrow."

"Well, you should walk slowly later, otherwise your shoes will definitely get wet."

There was indeed not much homework left. If I put it in the canvas bag and take it back, it might get wet, so it

's better to correct it here. The fountain pen and red ink issued by the school smudged a little on the paper. He would write "good" for good homework, and even better, "great".

As long as you finish it carefully, you will get "good".

Enough to treat everyone equally.

When he left, there was only a green apple and a White Rabbit milk candy that He Feng asked him to take with him in the morning in the canvas bag.

Not long after Song Qingshu walked out of the school, it began to rain heavily. He Feng's work would be suspended due to the rain, and he didn't know whether to pick up He Feng or go home.

But he kept walking south. What Song Qingshu didn't expect was that when he stood at the intersection, a bicycle stopped beside him.

It was He Feng.

"Son, whose umbrella is this?" He Feng asked, "Why don't you wait for me to pick you up?"

The big raindrops hit the umbrella, and the thuds echoed in his ears. Song Qingshu raised the umbrella, and his thick eyelashes fluttered, and his round black eyes looked at He Feng.

The moment he saw it, Song Qingshu's heart ached, and he stood on tiptoe to hold the umbrella for him. "

I want to pick you up," he swallowed the answer that he should have said, and his pale pink lips trembled.

He Feng was dripping with water, and the overwhelming rain seemed to be coming only for him, soaking him from head to toe. His army green cloth shoes turned dark green, and the mud on his trouser legs was wet by the rain, and the water droplets dripping on the ground were a little yellow.

A feeling of helplessness and guilt washed over him, "Brother."

His voice trembled, and He Feng could tell he was distressed.

"It's okay, son. I'm in good health, so a little rain won't be a big deal."

Song Qingshu glared at him angrily, "The umbrella belongs to Teacher Jin Yan. I finished class early and wanted to pick you up at the bridge. It was cloudy, and I was afraid it would rain."

He explained word by word, as if setting an example for He Feng, hoping he'd speak directly to him.

"Okay, then I'll accompany our son home, okay?" He Feng pretended not to see the hint in Song Qingshu's eyes and changed the subject.

Song Qingshu pouted and nodded.

He Feng, still dripping wet, got off his bike and pushed it to walk with Song Qingshu. If he noticed Song Qingshu's umbrella tilted towards him, he would use his hand to hold the umbrella pole to straighten it and tilt it back towards Song Qingshu.

In the past, even in this situation, He Feng should have pressed on the umbrella handle in his hand, not the pole.

His pouting mouth curled up a little, a sign of anger.

He Feng was just afraid that he would make Song Qingshu catch a cold, and then he would get sick again, and would have to take cold medicine and Chinese medicine, which would be too much suffering.

Song Qingshu didn't understand the twists and turns in his heart, he just knew that he was avoiding close contact with him.

Just like that, they walked home. People who used to chatter about what they had done and encountered that day were quiet today.

He Feng turned around and could only see his chubby lips and thin white neck. Only he knew that the marks left a few days ago were still there, and only he could see them. As soon as

they got home, Song Qingshu pushed He Feng to change his clothes, and said no, no, no, and took a basin, put a towel in it, poured some hot water from the teapot and handed it to He Feng.

He Feng took it with an angry "hmm", not knowing what he had done to offend the boy today.

But the towel in the basin that was gradually soaked was obviously not his, but Song Qingshu's.

He stood in the bathroom, wiping himself. He couldn't help but feel excited when he thought that this was the towel Song Qingshu used to wipe himself. The more he wiped, the hotter he felt. He could hardly feel the steaming hot water in the basin.

After washing vigorously, he poured some cold water on his face and came out when it was not so obvious and not so hot.

Song Qingshu, who was hiding in the door of the main room, rushed straight over, like a cat catching fish, fierce and cute.

He kissed He Feng on the mouth, but he didn't do anything like He Feng's. He only rubbed He Feng's lips with his soft lips.

His movements were immature and childish. The anger that He Feng had just subsided quickly flared up. He resisted the urge to take the initiative, and his jaw was tense into a sharp line.

This completely pissed people off. Song Qingshu took a step back, his eyes were red, his mouth was bright red, and his lips were pouting so hard that a sesame oil bottle could be hung on them.

"Brother doesn't like me anymore."

This conclusion startled He Feng so much that he immediately pulled the man back into his arms. "No, babe, why would you say that?"

"Brother won't sleep with me, won't kiss me, and won't let me get close."

Tears were already threatening to burst out, and He Feng swallowed, feeling this downpour was meant for him, completely wronged.

He caressed Song Qingshu's cool, delicate hand, clasping it where he felt excited, and shook it politely.

His heartbeat pulsated in time with his pulse. "Baby, brother loves me. Don't provoke me. If you provoke me again, I really can't bear it."

Song Qingshu stiffened his hand and gritted his teeth, saying, "Then I won't endure it."

He Feng brought his hand to his lips and placed two scorching kisses, even licking Song Qingshu's fingertips with his tongue. "That's it, babe, you can't bear it anymore. Wait a little longer."

His lustful eyes almost consumed Song Qingshu. Remembering what he had just done in his impulsive behavior, Song Qingshu's face began to flush.

Even the corners of his eyes lit up.

He Feng looked down at his appearance, "Next time, don't say such things to irritate me, babe."

Song Qingshu leaned against his chest and nodded, "Babe, change a new towel. I'll give you the one just now."

Song Qingshu's eyes widened instantly, and he lowered his head to look between his legs.

He Feng, who was noticed again, covered his eyes with his hands, bit his lips lightly, and said with heavy and hot breathing, "Don't look blindly."