Chapter 36 Little Bro Gets Beaten by Big Bro

Chapter 36: The Little Brother Gets Picked On by the Big Brother

Quiet.

When a child is quiet, they're bound to be up to mischief.

Wait for them to cause trouble, then win them over with mind games.

However, on the last night of May, Shi Zai was still whining every night:

"Brother, is the message you passed on really accurate? Yun Bao finally opens up to you, and you might have remembered it wrong?"

"…"

In just a short sentence, Shu Yangkuo had repeated it five times to the person in his arms, even copying the tone almost perfectly. What more could he say? He closed his eyes and pretended not to hear, letting the person in his arms threaten him with a paintbrush to draw on him.

After bearing it for a while, Shu Yangkuo opened his eyes and grabbed the small hand:

"Never seen you care this much about your brother."

"…Shu Yangkuo, why are you getting more and more childish lately! Hahahaha!"

"…"

"Alright then, I'll go talk to your boss tomorrow and ask him to look after our little Yang Kuo, hahahaha!"

"…"

Seeing him pretending to sleep again, Xiao Zai couldn’t help but laugh until he shook.

This was the second time Shu Yangkuo had said this to him.

It all started half a month ago. That night, Xiao Zai and Shu Yangkuo went to see Yang Yun and chatted for a while with the older boy named Qin Xihan. Only then did Xiao Zai learn that his younger brother wasn’t completely happy at the Pottery Training Center—or rather, it wasn’t that Yang Yun himself was unhappy, but others saw him as withdrawn. Yes, the teacher in his class had used the word "withdrawn" to describe him. Whether he was happy in class or upset about not doing well with his projects, Yang Yun kept to himself, largely ignoring interactions with classmates and teachers. The teacher, being responsible and seeing that the boy was quiet and well-behaved, had asked Qin Xihan—the class president—to communicate more with Yang Yun and ideally become his friend.

Xiao Zai was both upset and puzzled by the word "withdrawn." He saw Yang Yun happy every day, and when Yang Yun talked about the Pottery Studio, he would share everything about his day, including hearing people talk about "dating" and how Qin Xihan learned his last name was "Shi." Xiao Zai thought that even if he didn’t have close friends, he got along fine with his classmates. He hadn’t realized Yang Yun was mostly off in his own world, with only his ears open for gossip.

Simply put, he was immersed in his own little universe.

This was also why Xiao Zai wasn’t too worried. Even if he didn’t interact much with others, as long as he was happy, it was fine. Both the big brother and the little brother were like this—he could satisfy their happiness, and it was okay if they didn’t want to seek emotional validation from others. Regarding what Qin Xihan had said, Xiao Zai quietly mentioned it to Shu Yangkuo, who calmly replied, "Why should we judge our feelings based on others’ opinions?" That made Xiao Zai feel even more reassured—the younger one was just learning from the older one.

It made sense. Some people need social interactions to express or gain happiness, but for people like Shu Yangkuo and Yang Yun, they could express and draw happiness from themselves or Xiao Zai, without needing extra communication.

Xiao Zai was quite happy about this. He gave them enough, and they really didn’t need to exchange emotions with others.

It was like a little child holding a lollipop. When another child suggested "trading to try each other's," the first child would refuse, saying, "I know my candy is sweet. Why should I swap? Maybe yours isn’t to my taste, and it would just be a pointless hassle." That was perfectly fine.

However, even though Xiao Zai had grown up lonely and had his own fears, he wasn’t introverted. He believed people should still make friends—helping each other out, like how he started with Jiang Ziqing and Tan Xun, especially when first starting his career. Sticking together for support was better than going it alone.

Shu Yangkuo wasn’t too happy about this and told him not to "stick together for support" with others anymore.

Xiao Zai was utterly speechless. The stubborn man, whenever this topic came up, would get the wrong idea, misunderstanding things wildly. He insisted he didn’t need to be friends with people—cooperating to make money was enough. He said things like, "If someone has value, others will naturally flock to them; if not, even the best friends eventually drift apart." While there was some truth to it, Xiao Zai considered it nonsense.

His highness the crown prince still hadn’t moved on from political struggles! Ordinary people often have friends without purely transactional relationships.

But if they didn’t want to, then so be it.

Xiao Zai had already stopped worrying about it. What troubled him was what Yang Yun had said to Shu Yangkuo: "I’m growing up a little, and I’m a bit scared." Scared of what? Xiao Zai didn’t see any signs and hadn’t noticed any emotional fluctuations.

The night they visited Yang Yun, the three of them shared a room again. Xiao Zai and Yang Yun played around for a long time, and the pink dumpling even shared all the interesting things from the past few days, except he didn’t want to talk about Qin Xihan. Otherwise, everything was fine. Xiao Zai understood why he didn’t like Qin Xihan much—he was perfectly happy on his own, and having someone sent to "monitor" whether he was unhappy was indeed annoying.

On Friday night, Yang Yun came back and brought them some local snacks from the neighboring city, with nothing unusual.

On Sunday, the family of three went to the park for a picnic and camping. Under the moonlight, Xiao Zai cautiously brought up some of his experiences from when he was sixteen or seventeen, but Yang Yun only felt bad for him and didn’t take the opportunity to talk about what he was "scared" of.

Still, Xiao Zai didn’t know the worries in Yang Yun’s heart.

Logically, asking directly would be best, but Xiao Zai understood that kind of vague, hard-to-express emotion. Without specific events, others couldn’t truly empathize, making communication ineffective and possibly causing Yang Yun to never want to speak up again.

Before he could figure it out, Shu Yangkuo commented on him going to see Yang Yun’s teacher with, "Never seen you care this much about your brother," which made Xiao Zai laugh uncontrollably. He wondered if Yang Yun was hitting puberty, and maybe Shu Yangkuo was too?

Hearing it again, Xiao Zai laughed, then kissed and comforted him. He’d been too busy lately. After finishing the dubbing work for the Chengzhou Museum artifacts, he spent his days making flatbreads, preparing for antique voice-overs, and even partnering with Yang Yun’s Pottery Studio. He collected the students’ practice projects and sold them at Chunyang Square—a form of "recycling" or "turning trash into treasure." These practice pieces were mostly plates, bowls, and vases. The students had no use for them, so he sold them cheaply for ordinary households to use.

Among them were Yang Yun’s works, too—Xiao Zai wanted to see how the market would respond.

Xiao Zai was helping him gauge the market response to his style early on, so Yang Yun could adjust while learning and eventually open his own shop.

After they got a computer at home, Xiao Zai searched for courses he was interested in and stayed up late studying them every night.

So, recently, the only thing distracting him was Yang Yun’s still unclear "fear," and he had indeed neglected Shu Yangkuo. Shu Yangkuo was also busy lately. Although he’d signed another three-month labor contract, he was fully stepping into the antique brokerage business. Xiao Zai didn’t understand how that could make money, but Shu Yangkuo was putting more and more money into his bank account—they had enough to buy a house.

The family of three had discussed it and decided not to rush. They weren’t sure if they wanted to stay long-term, and they’d only rented their current place for six months.

Compared to Xiao Zai neglecting Shu Yangkuo when busy, Shu Yangkuo didn’t neglect him despite his own busy schedule. Seeing that Xiao Zai could read more now, he sent several texts a day, delivered fresh Green Pompoms every couple of days, and even wrote love letters that made Xiao Zai laugh for days—In contrast, Xiao Zai seemed even-keeled, while Shu Yangkuo was very attentive, finding him wherever he was for lunch together.

It wasn’t that Xiao Zai was truly calm; he just felt increasingly secure, knowing there would be no misunderstandings between them no matter what.

Like when Shu Yangkuo said "Never seen you care this much about your brother" twice, the old Xiao Zai might have felt hurt and wronged—why was his love being questioned? But now, Xiao Zai just nuzzled into him:

"You're such a baby, I’ll stop selling flatbreads in July, and then we can go on lots of dates."

"…Really? Baby, is it for me?"

"Yes! But I have my own plans too. Besides, didn’t you also change your long-term plans at the museum for me?"

"…What plans?"

Xiao Zai smiled and told Shu Yangkuo, who seemed a bit puzzled. Xiao Zai said seriously:

"I’ve always had things I wanted to do. I didn’t have the means before, but now with you and little brother working hard with me, our life is good. I dare to pursue what I love. Do you support me?"

"…Absolutely support. Xiao Zai, in the future—"

Shu Yangkuo paused, not finishing, but Xiao Zai knew what he wanted to say:

"Hehe, from now on, you focus on making money, and in a year, it’ll be me supporting you and Yun Bao again, okay?"

"…Okay, I want Xiao Zai to support me for a lifetime."

"Tsk, you’re so delicate—allergic to cheap clothes. You're expensive to maintain."

"…"

Shu Yangkuo wanted to say "allergies aren't fatal," but after a moment of silence, he said, "I’m not expensive in other ways." Xiao Zai laughed for a long time—the man seriously claiming he was low-maintenance was just too amusing.

Xiao Zai was just teasing him. Shu Yangkuo was like a delicate flower, and of course, he would take good care of him. He had from the start—otherwise, how could the delicate flower bloom so brilliantly for him? So far, the investment was right! See how much Shu Yangkuo could earn now!

And there’s also a small, delicate potted plant—still in bud due to its short growth period so far.

Besides nurturing the bud properly, it also needs protection. When Shi Zai brought up Yang Yun again, Shu Yangkuo suddenly interrupted:

“I spoke out of turn.”

“Haha, how could that be? Ge, I suddenly think—”

“Hmm?”

Shu Yangkuo’s remark sparked a new idea in Shi Zai. His eyes lit up, and he leaned excitedly toward the man:

“Yun Bao might indeed feel somewhat disoriented growing up on his own—but recently, both of us have been caring for him, openly and quietly. He must have noticed. That unexplained confusion may have faded significantly, because he knows his dage and xiaoge are always silently by his side. Once his heart settles, those fleeting emotions will vanish. Ge, isn’t that right?!”

“…Maybe. So troublesome.”

“Ge, you’re not allowed to say that! We must keep it up—show even more love and care. Ge, you should also ask him what he learned each day.”

“…Hmm.”

“Good thing you blabbed!”

After saying this, Shi Zai burst into laughter, while Shu Yangkuo feigned sleep once again.

But Shi Zai was genuinely happy. Lately, Shu Yangkuo had grown more willing to share his thoughts with him. It all began after that blow-up, when he asked Shi Zai to stay and help him improve—and Shi Zai himself had gradually become gentler and more optimistic. To love each other more deeply, both of them had to put in effort together.

And “Pink Dumpling’s” development followed the same path—both of them silently supporting him from behind, while Yang Yun himself worked through the confusion of growing up.

Luckily, Shu Yangkuo relayed his words to him, fostering a quiet, unspoken understanding among the three.

The more Shi Zai thought about it, the more convinced he became—and he drifted off to sleep, deeply content. Outside the window, the Chinese catalpa trees bloomed ever more vibrantly; their fragrance, bathed in moonlight, shimmered like starlight—joyfully dancing, slipping into dreams with every passing day and night, welcoming a sun that grew brighter with each dawn.

What a wonderful Children’s Day.

Shi Zai and Shu Yangkuo had originally planned a proper celebration for Yang Yun—but who knew the little rascal would pull such a grand stunt? Tsk—he’d clearly been saving it up for quite some time.

Downtown, at the mall where they’d celebrated Shi Zai’s birthday last time, they planned to head to the arcade after dinner.

It was especially lively tonight—partly because it was Friday, partly because it was Children’s Day. Many parents had brought their children out, and Shi Zai felt delighted too. He told Shu Yangkuo it felt like they were parenting—and Shu Yangkuo privately mused that, if he truly felt that way, they should’ve had Yang Yun change how he addressed Shi Zai back then—but he kept it to himself.

According to Shu Yangkuo’s plan, today was about letting both of them have fun.

But Shi Zai saw it differently. He wanted to make up for Yang Yun’s childhood, which had lacked careful nurturing. Today belonged entirely to him—and Shu Yangkuo calmly accepted the blame.

They’d originally planned to pick him up from the Pottery Studio, but Yang Yun refused. After waiting and waiting with no sign of him, Shi Zai made a call. The other end shouted, “Almost there, almost there!” Only then did Shi Zai relax—and he repeatedly reminded Shu Yangkuo: *Absolutely no scolding Yang Yun.*

Shu Yangkuo remained expressionless and nodded.

Ten minutes later, when a boy bounded up to Shi Zai and lunged onto his shoulders, he actually startled Shi Zai. He shoved him off and stood up instantly—first confused, then shocked, then stunned. The person before him… where was his pink dumpling?!

Yang Yun grinned, completely unaware of anything amiss. Shi Zai widened his eyes, glanced at the still-composed Shu Yangkuo, then turned back:

“Yun Bao, these clothes look nice—but how did they get so torn? Did something happen at school?”

“No, I bought them like this on purpose.”

“When did you buy them?”

“At noon.”

They hadn’t eaten lunch together these past few days. Shi Zai didn’t even want to look twice—even if he were sifting through garbage, he wouldn’t find clothes as shredded as what Yang Yun had bought himself. A perfectly good tank top bore three slashes across the back and several holes in the front; the shorts were just as tattered.

Shi Zai felt like his butt cheeks might be showing.

All along, Shi Zai had considered himself the most open-minded in the family—no, no, this wasn’t about open-mindedness—it was purely… ugly.

So ugly it was eye-catching.

But he couldn’t say it.

Taking another look, Shi Zai grew even more alarmed upon spotting Yang Yun’s wrist. He grabbed his hand and pushed aside the auspicious cloud bracelet:

“You got a tattoo?!”

“It’s fake—just a temporary tattoo.”

“…Oh.”

“But I *do* plan to get a real one. There wasn’t enough time at noon, so the shop owner gave me a fake one first.”

The relief Shi Zai had just felt vanished instantly. He was drinking water—and choked. As he watched Shu Yangkuo, who was patting his back, gradually grow colder, Yang Yun—under their combined gaze—simply shook his head and continued eating his ice cream unperturbed.

When Shi Zai caught sight of his ears, he was about to speak—but Yang Yun said:

“These are fake too, hehe.”

“…”

“But I also plan to get my ears pierced for real.”

Shi Zai forced a smile and patted Shu Yangkuo’s arm, signaling him to stay calm.

While they fell silent, Yang Yun kept grinning and “reporting”—saying he wanted to dye his hair red or blue and asking his xiaoge for advice. Shi Zai felt faint. In his dazed vision, he seemed to see a flamboyant flamingo.

Where was his chubby, soft, adorable little bird?

He couldn’t help comparing the original “pink dumpling” to the one before him now—there was no comparison… they were worlds apart. If the Yang Yun from before today could still make Shi Zai call him “my pink dumpling”—even though he’d grown taller and his face less babyish, he’d always been sweet and soft sitting beside him—today’s Yang Yun gave him the feeling of reuniting after many years and not daring to recognize him.

Even his manner of speaking seemed drastically different.

That “fear” Yang Yun mentioned—how did it now seem more like *fearing that they would fear him*?

The ordered food arrived one dish after another.

Yang Yun glanced at it but didn’t eat, continuing to slowly scoop his ice cream. After finishing, he asked the server for another box. Only then did Shi Zai stop him, telling him not to eat too much cold food and to hurry up with his meal—it was a specially ordered cute children’s meal, complete with a little hat.

Silence.

However lively the surroundings, their table was utterly silent. The children’s meal before Yang Yun no longer looked cute. Whether it was the food or anything else, once separated from warmth and viewed without love and appreciation, it lost its original meaning.

Seeing him like this for the first time, Shi Zai found it hard to continue with his usual playful banter.

But to treat Yang Yun’s growth—and the changes that came with it—normally, and not make him feel panicked, Shi Zai softened his tone even further:

“Yun Bao, don’t you like it? Should we switch to another set meal? How about that?”

“Why am I the only one with this kind?”

"You're the youngest, our Yun Bao, no matter..."

"You're all grown up now."

Hearing this, Shi Zai didn't process it immediately; his own sentence was still speaking—the second half being "no matter how old you are, you'll always be my adorable little brother and Xiao Yunbao"—when he was cut off by this unexpected comment. Almost instinctively, he asked, "What?"

When he received the same words delivered in an even colder tone than before, Shi Zai’s heart trembled, and he was left speechless.

An indescribable emotion suddenly crystallized with a sharp "smack" nearby—alienation.

Yes, being alienated.

Shi Zai blinked hard, bottling up his emotions. On the other side, Shu Yangkuo’s face was furious as he slammed his chopsticks onto the table. Yang Yun, however, jutted his chin out defiantly, as if challenging, "Go ahead, hit me if you dare." The tension between them had escalated to a breaking point.

Almost instantly, Shi Zai understood Yang Yun’s petty resentment over the exclusive kids' meal and tried to comfort him:

"Yun Bao, it’s your big brother reading too much into it. Lately… lately I’ve sensed you’re starting to grow up a little, and I was afraid you might feel… scared. So I wanted to comfort you this way. If it weren’t for that, of course I’d celebrate Children’s Day with you—we always have so much fun together, just the two of us. But when I’m upset, you and big brother comfort me together, and when big brother is unhappy, the two of us comfort him…"

"I’m not comforting him!"

"...That’s exactly what I mean. I just wanted you to feel especially valued in this kind of situation."

"I don’t need it!"

Two loud bangs.

It was the sound of Yang Yun and Shu Yangkuo shoving their chairs back and standing up abruptly.

Clatter.

Yang Yun’s backpack, slung over the chair, fell to the floor, scattering items across the floor.

Shi Zai held back tears welling in his eyes, silently pleading with Shu Yangkuo not to get angry, then hurried over to pick up Yang Yun’s backpack. As he gathered the last item, about to put it back in the bag, he froze.

He held it up to his eyes, and a second later, stared at Yang Yun in disbelief.

What on earth had his Yun Bao been through lately? He’d already been so careful, trying to understand and attend to his feelings. He thought Yun Bao was growing up steadily surrounded by their love, but… had he not cared enough, or had he done it all wrong?

Cigarettes.

His hand holding the cigarette pack trembled slightly, and just as it was about to drop, a large hand snatched it away. Before Shi Zai could react, through his teary vision—he saw Shu Yangkuo dragging a loudly protesting Yang Yun toward the restroom.

Though Yang Yun had grown taller, next to the nearly two-meter-tall man, he looked like a helpless chick, practically being dragged along, stumbling several times as if about to fall. The tall man pulling him forward radiated fury with every step, not slowing down at all.

Some onlookers watched, some told their children, "Sit properly, see? That big brother is misbehaving and about to get punished," while others called for staff, worried something might happen. Shi Zai finally snapped out of it, his icy-cold blood gradually warming again as he pushed past the staff and rushed toward the restroom.

But the entire restroom, starting from the outer wash area, was locked from the inside.

Someone trying to use the bathroom pushed the door but couldn’t open it, puzzled, and went to find an employee. Shi Zai wiped his tears and told them, "It’s under maintenance, please use the public restroom down the hall for now." After redirecting several people, he hurriedly knocked on the door.

There was no sound from inside, not even voices.

Shi Zai grew even more frightened and whispered reassurance through the door:

"Brother, Yun Bao, both of you calm down. It’s nothing serious. Let’s talk this through properly…"

"All you know how to do is sweet-talk and coax people!!"

"……"

A knife seemed lodged in his throat, sliding deeper into his chest, tearing through his heart. Shi Zai's entire body turned icy cold once more.

Even the surrounding sounds grew muffled.

But soon, he had no time to wallow in his misery. From inside, a loud wail erupted suddenly, followed by the sharp crack of something breaking, and Yang Yun's trembling, sobbed cries: "Wuwuwu... Xiao Ge, save me! Da Ge is going to beat me to death!"

Shi Zai kicked the door open.

In the cramped bathroom, Shu Yangkuo held a broken mop handle, veins bulging on his arm, his face dark with fury. With his other hand, he gripped the tattered vest that was practically falling off Yang Yun. Yang Yun leaned against the wall, his hands trembling as he clutched at it, his face a mess of tears. He opened his eyes, gulped abruptly, glanced at the crowd gathering outside, then ripped off his own clothes. Instead of begging for mercy, he started ranting and raving again: "You hate me, fine, I'll leave! Here, take your clothes back!" As he spoke, he tried to tear off his tattered shorts too, struggling to push his way out.

Shi Zai grabbed him tightly, while shouting to the server, "Please, clear the area! We'll be done soon!"

Turning back, Shi Zai leaned against the wall, holding the thrashing Yang Yun firmly, and snatched the broken mop handle from Shu Yangkuo's grip.

Clang.

The moment the stick hit the metal bucket, the small space fell into absolute silence.

Only three ragged breaths intertwined. One stood with clenched fists, glaring coldly downward; one leaned back against the wall, pressing his lips to the hair of the person in his arms; one tensed his small frame, as if wrestling with some invisible force.

So quiet they could hear each other's pounding hearts.

After what felt like an eternity, Yang Yun, shirtless and buried against his chest, suddenly let out a sob, then broke into uncontrollable wailing, crying out between tears, "Xiao Ge, I'm sorry!" and "I was wrong, just beat me to death!"

Almost at the same time, the tears Shi Zai had been holding back cascaded down.

Now there was only heartache, none of the earlier agony over Yang Yun's reckless words. Extreme—Yang Yun shared the same extremeness as Shu Yangkuo. Their past environment had shaped it; long-term repression led to self-destructive outbursts after distorted endurance.

Shi Zai's heart was breaking.

His Yun Bao, his little brother—what was he suppressing?

He’d heard Shu Yangkuo mention "death" once before and been horrified. Now, hearing it slip from Yang Yun’s lips, Shi Zai was even more alarmed. Yang Yun was far less mature—today’s behavior made that clear. This extreme release after repression truly scared Shi Zai, fearing what might happen.

Tears streaming down, Shi Zai held him tighter:

"Don't be afraid, my Yun Bao, don't be afraid. Xiao Ge is here. From now on, I'll go to class with you. If you don’t want to learn pottery anymore, Yun Bao can just stay with Xiao Ge…"

"Wah—"

Before Shi Zai could finish, the pink dumpling in his arms burst into uncontrollable wailing again, crying "I'm sorry" over and over.

Trembling, curling up, like a newborn baby.

The moment a burning kiss landed on the corner of his eye, Yang Yun broke free from the embrace and collapsed to his knees.