MDPWU Chapter 1

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At the end of August, the weather was still hot.

The room was small and stuffy. Occasionally, a cool breeze would pass through, making Tong Tong crane his neck out of the window, chasing after it.

But the wind was fleeting. Tong Tong quickly pulled his head back in—otherwise, he’d start feeling hot again.

His gaze shifted from the green leaves of the big tree outside back to the half-finished exam paper on his desk.

Rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he lowered his head and continued writing.

“Tong Tong!” Pei Yun’s voice called from outside.

“Ah!” Tong Tong was startled, his pen leaving a long, dark streak across the paper.

“Hey—” Pei Yun pushed open his door, frowning as she casually tied up her hair. “Baby, aren’t you hot? Why aren’t you using the air conditioner?”

“I must always be prepared with a warrior’s physique,” Tong Tong said with a serious face.

“Cut it out, who are you trying to scare?” Pei Yun bent down and pinched his face. “Mom can afford the electricity bill, you know.”

“You’re heading to the music school?” Tong Tong stood up, changing the subject.

“Got an extra student today, so I’ll be back late. The food is already in the fridge—heat it up, don’t eat it cold.” Pei Yun stretched up on her toes and ruffled his hair. “You’re getting too tall, baby. You can’t grow anymore.”

“I’ll chop my legs off if I do,” Tong Tong joked, bending down so she could mess with his hair.

“I left Dad’s lunchbox on the table. Clean up and take it to him later. Got money on you?”

“Yeah.” Tong Tong thought for a moment and asked, “Can I take Dad’s car?”

“Stop it, just wait for school to start in two days.” Before he could argue, Pei Yun pushed him back to his desk. “And keep your medicine with you—don’t forget.”

“I’m fine. I don’t run around, so I won’t get out of breath,” Tong Tong said before dodging around her and running into the living room.

“You’ll regret it if you have an episode later,” Pei Yun muttered as she walked out. “Eat your lunch, then take your dad’s food.”

Tong Tong stuck his head in the fridge, grabbed a carton of milk, and answered with a muffled “Got it.”

The front door slammed shut with a loud bang.

Tong Tong flinched at the impact and cursed under his breath. He looked at the dust floating from the doorframe, then at his phone, which was buzzing non-stop in his hand. With a sigh, he absentmindedly finished his milk.

Checking the time, he saw it was almost noon. He hadn’t eaten yet, but he grabbed his dad’s insulated lunchbox and headed out.

Walking through the narrow stairwell, Tong Tong hesitated at the crossroads between several old apartment buildings before turning left and continuing forward.

His mother had just moved them here recently, so he still hadn’t memorized all the routes.

He wasn’t used to living in a place like this and had already gotten lost multiple times.

Out on the main road, even with the bus stop providing some shade, he was still drenched in sweat.

In the past, this would’ve annoyed him so much that he’d end up shadowboxing himself out of frustration.

But now? He didn’t even have the energy for that anymore.

He imagined himself as a gentle little angel—spreading love and kisses with every word.

When the bus arrived, he hurried on. It wasn’t too crowded, and there were still several empty seats.

He chose a window seat and settled in, hugging the lunchbox.

Glancing at his phone, he saw multiple unread messages that had arrived in just a short while.

“You’ve been ignoring messages for ages. My birthday’s tonight—you have to show up at least, right?”

“If you keep ghosting us, don’t expect us to hang out with you when school starts!”

“Tong Ge, please, at least reply! You’re not even answering calls—are you dead or what?”

“Xiao Tong, did you move? I went by your place. You can’t hide from me, you know.”

The messages were from classmates and friends.

The last one was from Zhuang Qian—his childhood friend.

For the first time, Tong Tong’s expression changed. His fingers tightened around his phone until his knuckles turned white.

He struggled to type out a reply, but after hesitating, he deleted it.

Shutting off his phone, he shoved it into his pocket, leaned back in his seat, and took a deep breath.

Slowly, he exhaled.

With his eyes closed, he thought—

Fate sure is a strange thing.

A little over a month ago, he was still a young master, chauffeured wherever he went, reeking of money.

According to his friends, he was basically a walking human ATM.

No one could have imagined that in just a few days, everything would change.

Like a chain reaction of dominoes, before he even had time to react, a phone call from the hospital marked the beginning of his reintroduction to the world.

The sky above his head had changed.

He avoided his friends—not just because of the stark contrast between his past and present, but mostly because he had neither the time nor the mood for them.

But school was starting the day after tomorrow.

The swaying bus slowed down and stopped at a station.

A few more people got on. Tong Tong, lost in thought about how he would face his friends once school started, didn't notice someone sitting beside him.

It wasn’t until a strong mix of cigarette smoke and medicine reached his nose that he frowned and turned his head.

The person next to him was a boy, looking about the same age as him, with very short hair—almost shaved close to the scalp.

The boy also turned his head. His face was expressionless, but the wound at the corner of his eye looked a little intimidating.

They stared at each other for less than half a minute.

Tong Tong said nothing. He coughed a few times and turned away—he couldn't stand the smell of smoke.

He had congenital asthma. It wasn’t too severe, but his respiratory tract was sensitive. He couldn't handle strong odors, especially cigarette smoke.

He tried to lean toward the window, but it couldn’t be opened since the bus had air conditioning on.

It didn’t take long before he was struggling, coughing several more times in a suppressed manner, his breathing clearly becoming rapid.

He had no choice but to lower his head and tug at the collar of his T-shirt, using it to cover his nose.

The boy glanced at him.

"What?" Tong Tong asked.

"Nothing." The boy's voice was low and hoarse.

"Then don’t stare at me."

The boy didn’t move. They just kept staring at each other.

Tong Tong frowned. He didn’t understand what this guy was trying to do. But based on his own experiences, he interpreted this kind of staring contest as a signal.

A signal that basically meant: "I just called you an idiot with my eyes, and now we’re about to throw hands."

Just as Tong Tong was glaring back, his nose suddenly tingled.

Damn. He was done for.

As he sneezed, he tried his best to turn his head away.

But he still caught sight of the boy's face darkening instantly.

Too bold—this level of provocation was masterful.

Tong Tong rubbed his already reddened nose and carefully moved his dad’s insulated lunch box to the side.

But the boy just turned his head away.

Tong Tong let out a small sigh of relief and looked at the next stop coming up. He figured he’d just stand in the aisle once the bus stopped.

"Is it your nose that’s the problem, or is it me—" The boy started to say.

"You." Tong Tong replied without hesitation.

The boy frowned, his expression shifting.

The bus stopped. Tong Tong wanted to stand up and get away from this chain-smoking guy.

He couldn't afford to have an asthma attack—he hadn't brought his medication today.

And he didn’t want to fight because, frankly, he didn’t think he could win.

Besides, fighting on a bus would be humiliating. If he ever had to fight, he was determined to make sure it happened on the school’s main stage.

The boy suddenly stood up.

Tong Tong was startled—he knew this meant a fight was about to break out. He quickly hugged his lunch box and scooted closer to the window.

They were too close. He couldn’t move properly.

If they started throwing punches now, they'd probably end up kissing instead.

Just as he subtly rolled up his sleeves—

The boy left his seat, ran a hand over the back of his head, and slightly bent down toward an elderly woman who had just gotten on. "Grandma, you can sit here."

Tong Tong: "……"

Tong Tong sat there awkwardly for a moment, but still followed through with his plan—he picked up his lunch box and stood about a meter behind the boy.

From this position, he had a clear view of the boy chatting with the old lady.

"Oh my, sweetheart, who beat you up like this?" The old lady was very concerned about the boy’s injuries. "Does it hurt?"

"It doesn’t hurt." The boy answered simply.

"How could it not hurt! Oh, you poor thing." The old lady patted his arm up and down, looking heartbroken. "Your legs okay? You got beaten up like this and still gave up your seat for me. Such a good child."

"That’s right." The boy responded instantly.

Tong Tong: "…………"

This buzz-cut guy didn’t look like the type to give up his seat for anyone, let alone someone with a good temper.

Yet, here he was, being fussed over by an old lady, called sweetheart, baby, and poor little thing.

He wasn't sure if it was because the old lady was too overpowering, or if this guy just looked like a walking time bomb but was actually all bark and no bite.

What a waste of height. Couldn’t even hide a knife in his pants.

If he had known this earlier, he wouldn’t have held back—he should have just kicked this little sweetheart off the bus.

Tong Tong turned to glance out the window.

The hospital was here.

As the bus slowed to a stop, he turned back again.

The old lady was digging around in her cloth bag and pulled out a big apple.

The boy took it and thanked her.

He even smiled… His teeth were surprisingly white…

He didn’t seem to mind the old lady touching him at all.

The back door of the bus opened. Tong Tong rolled his eyes and got off.

He carried his lunch box, skillfully navigated the hospital elevator, and arrived at the inpatient ward. He pushed open the door to a hospital room.

It was a two-person room, but including the two patients in the beds, there were four or five people inside. Hearing the door, they all turned to look.

"Dad." Tong Tong called out, walking straight to the outermost bed. He placed the insulated food container on the bedside table, swiftly set up the tray over the bed, and handed the spoon to his father.

"Shen-ge, your son is so good—tall, filial, and handsome."

"Yeah, Xiaotong is way more mature than our Haoran."

"Haoran, learn from your Tong-ge."

A family member accompanying a patient by the other hospital bed teased with a smile.

"My unworthy son." Lying on the hospital bed, Tong Jingshen clasped his hands in a mock salute. "You flatter him too much."

"How are you feeling?" Tong Tong looked at his father's face.

His father had been diagnosed with kidney failure earlier this summer. It had been dragging on for a while, but due to work, he hadn’t undergone proper treatment at the hospital yet.

"Still alive." Tong Jingshen slapped his thigh. "Quick, I'm still warm—come and feel it."

"……"

Tong Tong pushed a tray of food toward him. "Eat."

"Wow, I've known Xiaotong for so long, and I've never heard him say more than ten words in one go." The woman standing by the bed next door sighed. "So cool. Shen-ge, there's no way he's your son—you never shut up."

Tong Tong paused for a moment after hearing that, furrowing his brows as he pondered.

He remembered himself as quite talkative, able to banter with his dad at home for an entire day.

But lately, he hadn’t been speaking much.

"He’s even more sharp-tongued than me, just that most people don’t get to see it." Tong Jingshen chuckled, patting his hand. "Sit down, soldier."

Tong Tong pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Xiaotong, school starts the day after tomorrow, right?" The woman smiled as she handed him a fruit platter. "You'll be in your second year of high school?"

"Mm." Tong Tong took the plate. "Thanks, Auntie."

"How are your grades, Xiaotong?" she asked again.

"They're alright, I guess. The second-place student in his class and everyone below that all can't stand him," Tong Jingshen said seriously. "Ever since he got into school, they've been chasing after him, but they haven’t even managed to grab a strand of his leg hair."

Everyone in the hospital room was momentarily stunned before they burst into laughter, then showered Tong Tong with praise.

"Tch, bragging." A chubby boy standing in the corner rolled his eyes.

"Mind your manners." The woman gave the chubby boy a light slap on the arm. "Your brother studies at Mingde High School. Not just anyone can get into that private school. You're about to start high school too—you should learn from him."

The chubby boy rolled his eyes again. "Mom, I need to go to the bathroom."

Before his mom could respond—

"Tong Tong, take your little brother with you." Tong Jingshen winked at him. "He doesn’t visit often."

Receiving his dad's signal, Tong Tong, for once, smiled.

He nodded, then turned and walked toward the door.

He didn’t like this chubby kid.

The kid liked to show off, brag, and was ugly too.

"Hey, Tong-ge, are your grades really that good?" The chubby boy squinted his eyes and pursed his lips in a mocking tone. "How'd you get so good?"

"By bragging," Tong Tong replied.

"……"

The chubby boy looked like he had just swallowed a mouthful of crap.

Tong Tong felt satisfied. He loved his dad.

"I just heard today that your family used to be rich?" The chubby boy suddenly said.

Tong Tong’s body tensed up. He didn’t move.

Seizing the moment, the chubby boy eagerly stuck out his foot. "Then you must recognize these shoes I’m wearing, right? What do you think? My mom just bought them for me—almost ten thousand bucks."

Tong Tong glanced at the shoes on his feet. "Fake."

"What?"

"Your sneakers are fake." Tong Tong deliberately emphasized the word fake.

"…………"

The chubby boy fell silent for a moment before exploding. "These are this month's new AJ release! You’ve never worn them! How do you know?"

"Relax." Tong Tong consoled him. "You already bought them anyway."

"They're not fake!" the chubby boy shouted.

"Oh." Tong Tong nodded.

The chubby boy, furious, turned and stormed off.

"Hey." Tong Tong called out. "Not going to the bathroom anymore?"

The chubby boy stomped away quickly, disappearing in no time.

Tong Tong shrugged and headed to the restroom alone.

If he wasn’t going, then fine—he’d go.

The hospital’s bathroom was quite clean. Aside from the scent of disinfectant, there wasn’t any other odor.

Tong Tong’s mood instantly improved. He lowered his head, scooped up some cool water, and splashed it on his face.

Taking a deep breath, he placed his hands under the running water.

"This place isn’t bad."

A voice suddenly came from one of the restroom stalls behind him—familiar sounding.

"My dad doesn’t know I ran away yet, right?"

He was probably on the phone. Tong Tong turned off the water and prepared to leave.

"Some guy with big eyes on the bus spat all over me."

"And then he glared at me. I let it slide since his eyes were big."

"What girl? It was a guy. But he really did look like a girl."

Tong Tong froze mid-step, shook off the water from his hands, and kept his expression neutral.

Then he turned around.

And kicked the stall door.

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