Chapter 12: Into the Trap (Part 3)

Chapter 12: Into the Pitfall (Part 2)

After breakfast, Song Wuyi didn't go play with Li Su but went to the study on the third floor.

Although Song Wuyi said Li Su could freely roam anywhere in the Song residence, it wasn't a park, nor a place Li Su was familiar with, and the cold and indifferent servants everywhere made Li Su didn't dare to cut loose.

Li Su followed Song Wuyi to his study.

“Why do you still have to study on weekends?”

At home, there was Li Shuo, and here, there was Song Wuyi.

Environment really can change a person’s mindset, and Li Su gradually felt like the odd one out for not loving to study.

Li Su sat down on the small sofa and pulled a palm-sized comic full of slapstick humor from his pocket.

Meanwhile, the butler brought in a plate of fruit and a glass of juice.

Seeing Song Wuyi and Li Su getting along peacefully, each doing their own thing without much interaction, the butler found it odd.

He had thought Song Wuyi really liked Li Su and would act like a normal kid—if he liked someone, he'd stick to them and play like crazy.

But Song Wuyi’s attitude toward Li Su was far too indifferent.

Then again, it made sense—what you don’t have, you yearn for; once you get it, you realize you didn’t need it as much as you thought.

The butler set down the items and silently withdrew from the study.

Song Wuyi glanced at the fruit plate on the desk. The giant blueberries were bigger than a human eyeball, probably prepared recalling Li Su’s mother’s request to improve his eyesight.

But Li Su’s eye problem wasn’t about vision; eating blueberries wouldn’t help much.

Song Wuyi picked up the glass of juice—a mix of watermelon juice and sparkling water, its sweet aroma unmistakable just from the smell.

Song Wuyi didn’t like sweets, so the butler wouldn’t have brought him juice; this was clearly for Li Su.

Before giving it to Li Su, Song Wuyi took a small sip. It was a bit better than Coca-Cola.

He walked slowly over to Li Su, who was immersed in his comic, giggling nonstop.

He squatted down.

One hand rested on Li Su’s leg.

“Drink the juice. It’s really sweet.”

Li Su tore his gaze away from the comic, took the juice from Song Wuyi, and downed it in big gulps.

Song Wuyi noticed that Li Su always drank by chugging.

His mouth was so small, yet it seemed like a bottomless pit, capable of swallowing everything.

“Take smaller sips, don’t choke on the bubbles.”

The moment Song Wuyi finished speaking, Li Su started coughing.

“Cough, cough, cough...”

Song Wuyi nearly got sprayed in the face, but he didn’t mind. He stood up, calm and collected, and took out a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket to wipe his clothes.

Li Su said awkwardly, “There’s a watermelon seed...”

Song Wuyi replied, “It’s okay.”

Li Su put down the glass and picked up the comic that had been resting on his lap, only to find it wet from the juice he’d spat out.

“Oh no, it’s all smudged. I can’t see the pictures anymore.”

Li Su held up the comic regretfully, trying to piece together the story from the parts that weren’t smudged.

Song Wuyi took the comic from Li Su’s hands and sat down on the sofa’s armrest.

“Dummy, listen. If you ever score below five points on a test, I’ll take a full palm and smack your butt good.”

Song Wuyi read the line from the comic in a calm voice, a line that was supposed to be funny.

Li Su actually wanted to laugh—not because of the line itself, but because it was coming from someone as serious as Song Wuyi. Yet because Song Wuyi said it so earnestly, Li Su felt too embarrassed to laugh.

Trying to make conversation, Li Su suddenly blurted out, “Did Uncle Song ever hit you for bad grades?”

Song Wuyi closed the comic and tilted his head, looking at Li Su.

“No. He never checks on me.”

Li Su was a bit surprised. At breakfast, Uncle Song had indeed asked about his studies.

But thinking back, asking about grades seemed like a standard spiel that every adult used—something they brought up every time they ran into a kid, not necessarily out of genuine concern.

Li Su suddenly thought of something and asked, “Back then, the police found us, but I never knew who called the police.”

Song Wuyi looked away, staring into the distance.

“It was my mother’s family.”

Qi Qin’s body was stolen, and the Qi family found out the next day and immediately reported it to the police.

At that time, Song Shuzheng hadn’t even noticed that Song Wuyi had disappeared from the Song residence.

It was only when the police were searching for clues that they learned from the mortician’s statement that Song Wuyi had visited the mortuary the night before.

Song Wuyi asked Li Su back, “Didn’t your family call the police?”

Li Su said, “My mom did, but according to her, the police who found us weren’t the ones she reported to. She praised you guys a lot, saying the people here were very efficient.”

Song Wuyi sneered.

Efficient? Because there was pressure behind the scenes.

If the victims of this kidnapping case hadn’t included Song Wuyi and Qi Qin’s body, Li Su would probably have been found only when he was dead and cold.

Missing for over twenty-four hours before an investigation could be upgraded—would the madman have given Li Su even twenty-four hours to live?

According to Song Wuyi, the ones who called the police were his mother’s family, and they did it to find the body.

It seemed nobody cared about the kid who’d just lost his mom and gone missing.

Li Su lowered his eyelids, feeling an inexplicable tightness in his chest.

Since childhood, he’d always had his parents’ complete attention and love, and even a tiny bump was a big deal to them.

But Song Wuyi had narrowly escaped death, and his father couldn’t care less about it.

Li Su wrapped his arms around Song Wuyi’s waist and gave his stomach a comforting pat.

"Wu Yi, do you feel sad?"

Not sad.

Because he didn’t care.

But Song Wuyi didn’t show his cold indifference to Li Su; instead, he put on a sad expression.

"Maybe."

The arms around his waist tightened again.

Song Wuyi took the opportunity to ask Li Su, "Li Su, do you want to be my family?"

Li Su looked up blankly.

"Huh?"

"How can I be family with you?"

Song Wuyi took the hand around his waist and laced their fingers together.

"You just need to answer me: yes or no?"

Li Su thought for a moment.

He finally understood why Song Wuyi hadn’t wanted to live when facing that madman back then, always ready to die, to take them both out.

Because there was no one in the world who cared about him, and naturally, he had no one to care about either. His dearly loved mother had passed away, and life really seemed pointless.

Even though Song Wuyi had narrowly escaped death in that kidnapping, had he really come back to life?

He still had to return to that cold home and face three people who were supposedly family but showed him no love.

Li Su thought about his own situation: if he were unloved, he’d rather not have survived that kidnapping.

Mom said he was the cure for Song Wuyi.

They had accompanied each other through danger, drawing strength from each other.

Maybe he was the last person on earth who could give Song Wuyi love.

So he was willing to become Song Wuyi’s family.

"Sure, I’ll be Wu Yi’s brother, so we’ll be family too."

Wu Yi was two years older than him.

Li Su’s eyes moved, then he abruptly lifted his face and leaned in close to Song Wuyi.

"Bro."