Chapter 33: Don’t Bite, Your Lips Will Break

Chapter 33: Don't Bite, Your Lips Will Break

The old woman's murky eyes were filled with malice, staring intently at Du Yang. This little bastard was different from before— gotten tougher.

After speaking, Du Yang ignored the old woman, went to the balcony to pick up a broom and dustpan, and began sweeping the floor.

"You little wretch! Make sure the house is spotless!"

"Turning down easy money, fooling around outside every day. When your father gets back, I'll make you go sell drinks at the club!"

"You haven't earned a cent, but you sure learned how to order people around."

Cursing under her breath, the old woman took the money and hobbled out on her walking stick.

Du Yang locked the door from the inside, went to the balcony, and watched until the old woman headed toward the market. Then he quickly turned back and took out the tools he had prepared from his bag.

He had rehearsed the placement of the cameras and the installation process in his mind over a dozen times.

The whole process took less than an hour. Du Yang installed tiny cameras in the living room, as well as in Du Debao's and the old woman's rooms.

They were hidden securely and firmly—no one would find them unless they tore the place apart.

In his past life, Lu Yu had used this method to frame him. This life, he would use the same method to send his biological father and Qin Yue to a nice place.

All for show. After installing them, Du Yang continued cleaning up.

By the time the house was mostly clean, the old woman returned with a bag of meat.

She tossed the meat into the kitchen. Seeing that the kitchen hadn't been cleaned, she pounded her walking stick and clattered out again, storming over to Du Yang and raising her stick to hit him.

Du Yang had just finished arranging the items on the TV cabinet. Hearing her footsteps, he knew she was about to strike—he'd been beaten too many times, and it had become muscle memory.

He turned and grabbed the walking stick, looking down at the old woman. His eyes were icy cold, and his voice was icy as he spoke.

"Still want to hit me?" Du Yang flung the stick aside, and the old woman stumbled, barely steadying herself with it.

"From now on, I won't give you a single cent. Whether you live or die has nothing to do with me."

Recovering from her shock, the old woman pounded her stick on the ground, making it thump loudly, and glared at Du Yang with venom.

"Your father hasn't beaten you in three days, so your skin itches. A wretch is always a wretch—you won't behave until you're beaten half to death!"

"I'll call your father right now and have him come back to deal with you! Just see if you dare to rebel!"

As she spoke, the old woman fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a beat-up phone.

Du Yang sneered. "Don't bother. Du Debao is in jail—you can't reach him."

"The night before last, he hit me, and my boss had him sent to the detention center. He'll probably be back to keep you company around New Year's. That thousand dollars is the last handout you'll get from me."

"From now on, whoever owes you, go ask them for money. I won't give you a cent."

Without waiting for the old woman to react, Du Yang picked up his schoolbag from the table, slung it over one shoulder, and stepped out of the cage that had given him countless nightmares.

"Little bastard! Stop right there!"

The old woman finally came to her senses. Du Yang had never dared to rebel against them, let alone have Du Debao sent to jail.

This was a revolt. She realized that Du Yang wasn't just talking—he had really spread his wings and was fighting back.

The old woman cursed and hobbled to the balcony, stick clattering. Standing there, she watched Du Yang's figure and yelled.

"Little bastard, just wait till your father gets back—he'll beat you to death!"

"You little ingrate! Bullying an old woman while your father's away! Is there no justice? Ouch!"

"We raised you, sent you to college, and this is how you repay your elders? You ingrate, you wretch!"

...

Du Yang said nothing. He gripped the strap of his backpack tightly, biting his lower lip, and quickened his pace.

Behind him, besides the old woman's curses, there were also neighbors murmuring in sympathy.

"That poor kid, stuck with such a family."

"Old hag, have you no shame? What child gets treated like this, beaten and cursed?"

"Xiao Yang, don't come back to suffer."

These longtime neighbors all knew how Du Yang had grown up—how many beatings, how many times he'd gone hungry.

The old woman could curse better than anyone around, and the neighbors only dared to grumble behind her back, not confront her openly.

Du Yang walked faster and faster, as if countless invisible monsters were chasing him from behind.

Turning a corner, he suddenly stopped, staring blankly at the man walking toward him.

Fu Yan was wearing a finely tailored black coat, his figure tall and straight, walking briskly in this direction.

The moment Du Yang spotted Fu Yan, Fu Yan also saw him.

Their eyes met, and a sudden feeling of grievance welled up in Du Yang's heart. He had been cursed so many times before that his heart had grown numb, but at this moment, seeing Fu Yan, he felt hurt for no reason.

Fu Yan hadn't abandoned him. He had come to find him.

The winter sunlight fell on the man, as if a deity had descended, wrapped in holy light and threads of warmth approaching the boy.

In a daze, Fu Yan had already walked steadily up to Du Yang.

The old woman's harsh curses still rang in their ears. Fu Yan's face darkened slightly, his voice less calm than usual.

"Du Yang, are you okay?"

Du Yang bit his lower lip, gripping his bag strap tightly, staring straight at the man, as if barely holding back an emotion on the verge of bursting.

Fu Yan's heart tightened, a pang of pity rising. He stepped forward, put one arm around the boy's shoulders, and guided him away.

"Don't listen. I'll take you home."

Two handsome figures, one tall and one shorter, walked through the rundown neighborhood.

Fu Yan, in his fine, elegant clothes, tall and handsome; Du Yang, clean and refined—they didn't belong in this run-down area and never had.

When they reached the car, Fu Yan opened the passenger door and let Du Yang get in. After closing the door, he walked around to the driver's side and sat down.

Fu Yan didn't start the engine. Instead, he kept his eyes on the boy in the passenger seat.

Fu Yan suddenly leaned in, gripped the boy’s chin, and forced him to meet his eyes.

“Du Yang, stop biting. You’re going to break your lip.”

The boy’s eyelashes fluttered, and he let go of his lower lip, which clearly showed red bite marks.

Fu Yan gently stroked the boy’s lip with his thumb, a deep, aching tenderness rising in his eyes.

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