Chapter – 63
That army cot definitely couldn’t withstand the two of them messing around.
Jiang Jian switched from awkward gratitude to an angry, puffed-up “porcupine” mood and curled up under the blanket. “I’m going to sleep. Good night.”
He heard Luo Shuxin reply with a simple, “Good night.”
Jiang Jian tugged at the corner of the blanket, thinking, Who asked you to say good night?
Nothing at all! Hope you have nightmares tonight!!
Clutching a strange mix of resentment and a desire to thump Luo Shuxin, Jiang Jian fell asleep. Surprisingly, he slept particularly well that night and didn’t dream about his mother despite Fei Lao’s emotional stabbing words yesterday—considered a kind of luck.
The next morning, Luo Shuxin woke up earlier than Jiang Jian, even slightly earlier than his alarm.
He opened his eyes and saw Jiang Jian on the bed across from him.
Jiang Jian’s curly hair was obviously messy from sleep, his head buried in the soft pillow, and the blanket neatly covering him. At a glance, he looked surprisingly well-behaved while sleeping.
Luo Shuxin suddenly felt that what Jiang Jian said earlier—about being a good sleeper—might actually be true.
Luo Shuxin tried to get up quietly, but it had little effect.
Because Jiang Jian’s alarm had just gone off, the little “curly-haired puppy” jolted in surprise, letting out a heavy-nosed, “Mm?” before closing his eyes again and reaching around for his phone.
He fumbled around and realized that the bed layout was different from his own. One hand reached out, but he didn’t touch the nightstand.
Just then, the alarm stopped—technically, someone had helped him turn it off.
Jiang Jian squinted at Luo Shuxin.
Luo Shuxin said, “Morning.”
Jiang Jian froze, brain completely shut down, staring at him like he didn’t know who he was.
Luo Shuxin went to wash up first.
Jiang Jian, eyes still closed, pulled the blanket over his head and began his painful struggle.
He didn’t want to get up. Just five more minutes… five minutes was enough.
Soon, Luo Shuxin, finishing washing up, heard Jiang Jian’s second alarm—Jiang Jian was very aware of his self-discipline for getting up; alarms were set one after another.
Jiang Jian reached around for a long time, finally unable to find it, so he sat up and stretched to grab his phone and turn off the alarm—Luo Shuxin had just helped turn it off and placed it on the nightstand, which was quite far from Jiang Jian.
Sitting on the bed with his messy hair, Jiang Jian pondered life.
Does one really need to go to school? Life is so short. Why not spend it on more meaningful things… like sleeping?
Is it possible that a comet could hit Earth the next second and wipe out humanity forever?
When Luo Shuxin returned, the little curly-haired puppy was still dazed on the bed.
But when Luo Shuxin entered, Jiang Jian obediently dragged his zombie-like body off the bed to wash up.
After washing, he returned to find the bed neatly made—sheets smooth, blankets folded perfectly.
Today, Luo Yue was making breakfast, so Jiang Jian and Luo Shuxin only needed to eat.
After breakfast, Luo Yue sent the two kids off to school. Jiang Jian, sitting in the car, belatedly realized he should buy a gift for Luo Yue, maybe on an upcoming holiday or during a visit. After all, he had already stayed at her house for two nights.
This time, they got to school without being late.
Halfway through class, a classmate called out to Jiang Jian outside the classroom. It was Fei Lao.
Jiang Jian instinctively thought of last night, when Fei Lao had poured his heart out—he didn’t resist, but his stomach ached a little.
Pain aside, he had to go.
He expected some punishment results, but at Fei Lao’s office, he saw Jiang Zhiyuan.
Jiang Zhiyuan didn’t usually return unknown calls; he was only here because Fei Lao had persistently contacted him yesterday, finally bringing him over.
Jiang Zhiyuan and Jiang Jian stood and sat together, listening to Fei Lao lecture about the severity of the fight.
Compared to yesterday’s office scene of crying, today’s education was devastatingly disciplined. Jiang Zhiyuan spoke the polite, scripted words, cooperating with Fei Lao’s mood, while Jiang Jian occasionally chimed in to admit fault.
Honestly, compared to Jiang Zhiyuan’s staged “good parent” routine, Jiang Jian felt that Fei Zhiguo, who had stabbed him in the heart yesterday with raw emotion, seemed genuinely concerned.
Jiang Jian wasn’t sure what Jiang Zhiyuan really thought. He was Jiang Jian’s only son—if he didn’t have a secret child.
Jiang Zhiyuan seemed to try hard to act as a good father—financially not stingy, occasional verbal concern, and some proof through action.
But Jiang Jian couldn’t see through him. Jiang Zhiyuan was too good at lying.
Like every time he apologized sincerely to Jiang Jian—seeming heartfelt but never genuine—after so many occurrences, one couldn’t help but doubt whether any of Jiang Zhiyuan’s other “sincere” acts were real or just a performance.
Compared to the well-meaning but deceived Fei Zhiguo, who thought Jiang Zhiyuan truly felt guilty for lax parenting and even comforted him, Jiang Jian knew the truth: his father’s concern was superficial.
To scare Jiang Jian, Fei Lao even had Jiang Zhiyuan take him home today, so he didn’t need to attend class this week.
Jiang Jian’s momentary amusement: Jiang Zhiyuan, after leaving the office, immediately asked if he wanted to transfer schools or even study abroad. Arrangements could be made.
Jiang Jian sent messages via WeChat to Luo Shuxin and Shao Xing, so they wouldn’t worry about his “irreversible departure.”
Looking up after sending the message, he saw his father wasn’t in the driver’s seat. Instead, a very pretty young woman was driving.
