Bamboo, Wood, Wolf, Horse - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Fu Kun’s Little Trouble

The moment Fu Kun heard his mother’s thunderous roar, everything clicked into place. So this was what she meant by transferring Yijie to a new school this morning—she was enrolling him at Sanxiao!

What rotten luck!

A profound sense of doom settled over him.

His mother’s foot lashed out in a kick. He could have easily dodged it with a slight shift, but instead, he simply turned his body just enough so that the kick wouldn’t actually hurt—yet not so much that she’d completely miss. This way, his mother would get her satisfaction, and Yang Laoshi wouldn’t feel the need to step in. A win-win situation.

“Don’t hit him, don’t hit him!” Yang Laoshi quickly intervened, grabbing Fu Kun and shielding him behind his back as he saw Fu Kun’s mother gearing up for another kick.

“If I don’t, you will, won’t you?” She placed her hands on her hips, her sharp gaze locking onto the teacher.

“I—I wasn’t going to hit him…” Yang Laoshi faltered, clearly caught off guard. It wasn’t uncommon for parents to tell teachers, ‘Discipline them however you see fit—beat them, scold them, whatever it takes.’ But he genuinely hadn’t planned on hitting Fu Kun. And judging by the way this mother stormed in, she was definitely not the type to hand over authority so easily.

“Thank you for your hard work, Teacher Yang,” she said crisply, before glancing at Fu Kun with obvious disdain. “Why don’t you just let this little brat freeze out here for a while?”

With that, she turned away, parked her bicycle properly, and took Fu Yijie’s hand in hers. “I’ll be by your office later to sort out the transfer paperwork,” she informed the teacher. “I’ve got another son joining today.”

Yang Laoshi sighed, rubbing his temples. “You, go back to class,” he said, waving Fu Kun away. “And while you’re at it, figure out how to explain to your mother why you haven’t turned in a single assignment for a whole week.”

Fu Kun didn’t answer. His attention was fixed on his younger brother, who was clutching their mother’s hand while glancing back at him. Those round eyes were wide with shock—clearly rattled by the spectacle.

Fu Kun bared his teeth in a playful grin. Heh. Bet the little guy wasn’t expecting such a show.

“Quit grinning like an idiot and get to class!” Yang Laoshi gave him a shove. “I swear, I’ve never seen a kid like you before!”

“You’ve been my teacher for four years, and you’re still not used to me?” Fu Kun muttered, his head drooping slightly.

His mother’s kick just now might have been for show, but he knew full well—once they got home, he was done for. And if his father found out? Even worse.

Yang Laoshi glanced back at the boy, suddenly noticing something. “Wait—you have a younger brother?”

“Yeah. Just picked him up off the streets.”

“Picked up?” The teacher raised an eyebrow. “You mean adopted?”

“Yeah, same thing.”

“Your parents have big hearts.”

“They sure do,” Fu Kun sniffed, then shot the teacher a pleading look. “Speaking of kindness, Yang Laoshi, how about showing me some? My arm’s still ‘broken,’ you know. If you go snitching on me again, I might just end up with both arms and legs broken…”

“Nice try!” Yang Laoshi suddenly remembered why he had even pulled Fu Kun aside in the first place. His face darkened. “I swear, you won’t learn unless you get a real beating! It’s the bare minimum amount of homework, and you still refuse to do it! What goes on in that head of yours?!”

Fu Kun shrugged. “That I’d rather be playing.”

“Shut it! You’ve got a comeback for everything!”

Meanwhile, inside the school building, Auntie led Fu Yijie through the hallway, her tone carrying a resigned sort of amusement.

“Your brother probably skipped his homework again,” she sighed. “Don’t follow his bad example.”

“…Okay,” Yijie murmured softly.

But a quiet thought crept into his mind—if I don’t do my homework either, will she kick me too?

He tilted his head up to study her face. Surprisingly, she didn’t look all that angry. Even that kick she gave Fu Kun earlier… it hadn’t seemed very forceful.

This was different from the cold indifference of the orphanage—the stiff faces, the detached reprimands.

This… was what a mother looked like.

And for the first time, Yijie felt something stir inside him. A quiet, unfamiliar longing.

If I had a mother… even if she scolded me, even if she hit me… that would still be nice.

The school transfer had already been arranged in advance, so the paperwork was processed quickly.

“This little one is adorable,” the new homeroom teacher remarked, patting Yijie’s head. “Such a beautiful child.”

“This is Teacher Yu,” Auntie said, crouching down to his level. Her voice softened. “Say hello.”

Yijie hesitated. He stood there for a long moment, struggling to find his voice, before finally looking up. “…Hello, Teacher Yu.”

Auntie smiled and turned to the teacher. “He’s a very good boy, just a little shy. I hope you won’t mind keeping an extra eye on him.”

“No trouble at all,” Teacher Yu reassured her warmly. “Most kids are like that at first. He’ll warm up in no time.”

Her voice was gentle.

Much gentler than his last teacher’s.

Maybe it was because Auntie had told the teacher that he was her son?

If he had a mother, then maybe… maybe he wouldn’t be like the other children from the orphanage—unwanted.

Auntie exchanged a few more words with Teacher Yu, confirming that he would start classes tomorrow. Then, she took his hand and led him upstairs.

“I need to talk to that Teacher Yang from earlier,” she said gently. “Wait for me here in the hallway for a little bit, okay?”

Fu Yijie nodded.

Just then, the bell rang, and a flood of students spilled out of the classrooms. The hallway, once quiet, became a tide of voices, footsteps, and laughter. Feeling overwhelmed, Yijie instinctively shrank closer to Auntie’s side.

The fourth-grade classrooms were on the third floor, and at the very end of the hallway was Teacher Yang’s office. Auntie brought him there, told him to wait outside, and then disappeared inside.

Alone now, Yijie stood against the wall, his small frame half-hidden in the shadow of the corridor. The sea of fourth graders swirled around him, and he gripped the railing tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping him from being swept away.

“Whose kid is this?” A boy walked over, eyeing him curiously.

“Must be a first-grader. What’s he doing up here?” Another chimed in.

Yijie tensed. Without a word, he turned his face away, staring down at the playground below.

“Whoa, is he ignoring us? Thinks he’s too good to talk?” Another boy came up, giving him a light shove. “Where’d you come from, huh?”

The hallway felt smaller all of a sudden. The voices around him blurred into an indistinct buzz, the pressure of too many eyes pressing down on him. His fingers clenched the railing tighter. He lowered his head, saying nothing.

“Oi, what are you all doing?”

A sharp voice cut through the noise like a knife.

Teacher Yang had stepped out of his office, frowning at the group of boys. “Are you all that bored? If you’ve got time to stand around, go get Fu Kun for me.”

The boys instantly fell silent. They glanced at one another, nudging each other to go—but no one moved.

No one wanted to poke the bear. Fu Kun had been in a bad mood all morning, and no one wanted to be the unlucky soul to set him off.

“What, is Fu Kun gonna eat you?” Teacher Yang’s patience thinned. His gaze landed on one of them. “Zhang Bin, you go! Hurry up.”

Zhang Bin, now singled out, grimaced but had no choice. He slinked off to one of the classrooms in the middle of the hall, muttered a reluctant, “Fu Kun, Teacher Yang’s looking for you,” and immediately bolted.

A few moments later, Fu Kun sauntered out of the classroom, his face etched with irritation. He spotted Zhang Bin standing far away and narrowed his eyes.

“What the hell are you yelling for? You scared me so bad I almost jumped!”

Zhang Bin muttered under his breath, “You think I wanted to? Teacher Yang made me.”

Fu Kun ignored him, dragging his feet as he made his way to the office. But as he got closer, he noticed a small, familiar figure standing near the railing.

He blinked.

Then, stepping forward, he bent down and patted Fu Yijie on the shoulder. “Yijie.”

Yijie had been staring at the playground, lost in his own world. The gentle weight on his shoulder startled him, and he flinched.

Then he turned around.

The moment he saw Fu Kun, a visible wave of relief washed over him. Without hesitation, he shuffled closer and clutched onto Fu Kun’s sleeve, holding on tightly—like a child grasping at the only shelter in an unfamiliar storm.

In this strange place, surrounded by unfriendly faces and unfamiliar voices, Fu Kun was the only thing that felt safe.

“…Gege.”

His voice was small, barely above a whisper.

“What are you doing here? My mom brought you up?” Fu Kun asked.

Fu Yijie nodded.

“Don’t mind them.” Fu Kun glanced at the boys lingering nearby, his expression turning sharp. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he shot them a look. Immediately, they scattered, pretending to roughhouse as they slunk away.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he flicked a finger against Yijie’s forehead. “Bunch of cowards. Ignore them.”

Fu Kun wasn’t in the office for long—just the duration of a single recess. But in those ten minutes, Teacher Yang barely needed to say more than two sentences:

“Fu Kun hasn’t done his homework for a week.”

“To tell his parents to come in-every time I say it, it’s like talking to a brick wall.”

The rest of the meeting? A full-fledged tribunal.

Other teachers wasted no time airing their grievances.

Fighting!

Picking fights with fifth and sixth graders!

Bullying classmates! He was taller than most of his peers, and the ones taller than him? Not many left—they’d all gotten their share of trouble from him already.

One glare, and his classmates tremble!

Daydreaming in class!

Sneaking snacks mid-lesson!

Distracting the students around him!

Talking back to teachers!

Walking out of the classroom mid-lecture!

Forging his parents’ signature!

And the kicker—when asked to bring a parent to school, he showed up with some old man he’d found somewhere, claiming it was his grandfather. The guy spoke in a thick dialect, and whatever he said? Not a single teacher understood a word.

Fu Kun sat through it all, mildly impressed.

Damn. Which kid was this teacher even talking about?

His mother, standing to the side, gave him a slow, sidelong look.

The bell rang. Teachers shuffled off to class, and the complaints finally came to an end.

Teacher Yang sighed, rubbing his temples. “Ma’am, you see, it’s not just me saying this—I only spoke twice. But honestly, your son is smart. You need to really keep him in check. If this keeps up as he gets older… it’s going to be hard to turn him around. It’d be a waste of his potential.”

“You’re right,” his mother said, nodding thoughtfully. Then, she pressed her hands together and cracked her knuckles, a crisp pop pop echoing through the room.

Fu Kun arched a brow.

Well. Looks like there was no getting out of this one today.

Teacher Yang, however, visibly hesitated, his gaze flicking to her hands. After a long pause, he cleared his throat. “Uh… hitting him isn’t the best solution.”

“Don’t worry,” she said coolly. “That’s just step one. Once I’m done beating him, he’ll actually listen to what I say.”

She let out a short laugh, tilting her head toward Fu Kun. “You think a gentle talk is gonna work on this brat?”

Teacher Yang opened his mouth. Closed it again.

There were no words.

“This kid’s been living in perpetual springtime, that’s the problem,” she muttered. Then, giving the teachers a polite nod, she added, “I appreciate all your hard work. But I’ve got a little one outside with a cold—need to take him home first.

As for Fu Kun—I’ll make sure he gets what’s coming.”

“…You mean you’ll properly educate him,” Teacher Yang corrected, a tad weakly.

“That boy is just begging for a lesson!” His mother shot him a sharp look before turning on her heel and striding out of the office, tugging Fu Yijie along with her.

From the moment his mother left the school to the final bell of the day, Fu Kun felt a little… drained.

It wasn’t that she would necessarily hit him. She wasn’t the type to resort to that often. Sure, he’d gotten the occasional slap growing up, but it was never her go-to punishment. What really had him on edge was the creative ways she might choose to make him suffer.

Like that one time—she dumped a pile of black sesame and white sesame into a dish, mixed them together, and told him he wasn’t allowed to sleep until he separated every single one. When she realized the task was too impossible, she mercifully downgraded to red beans and green beans. That still took him an hour.

Or the time she made him haul a bucket and scrub every public toilet in the building—until every neighbor who used them personally confirmed they were spotless. Only then was he allowed to sleep.

And let’s not forget the worst one. She had him squat at the entrance of their apartment building, holding out a bowl. Every time someone walked by, he had to knock on the rim and say, “Spare some change for the poor?” He wasn’t allowed to go home until someone actually threw money in.

…

Yeah. Compared to those punishments, a simple beating was starting to sound merciful.

He still cringed every time he thought about it. Like some kind of tragic Cinderella—no, a Cinder-boy.

As he and Sun Wei stepped out of the school gates and headed toward their bikes, Sun Wei nudged him. “That kid your mom brought to school today—is that the little brother you mentioned?”

“Mm.” Fu Kun grunted. Yep. That’s my little brother. And tonight, I get to be publicly humiliated in front of my new sibling. My dignity will be sent straight to the final stop of my dad’s bus route.

“Is he well-behaved? I thought your mom was bringing home a little sister—how’d it end up being a brother?” Sun Wei kept prying, oblivious to Fu Kun’s misery.

“How the hell should I know?!” Fu Kun snapped. “It’s a brother, so what?! Just ’cause you have a sister, does that mean everyone has to have one?!”

“Whoa!” Sun Wei jumped, startled. “Why are you yelling at me?”

“I’m in a bad mood. Keep running your mouth and I’ll deck you.”

Fu Kun reached his bike and was about to unlock it when he noticed someone perched on the back seat.

He looked up.

Xu Jiamei.

“Get off,” Fu Kun said, jangling his keys.

“Give me a ride?” Xu Jiamei smiled sweetly.

“Sure!” Sun Wei immediately nodded, all but wagging his tail like an eager puppy.

Fu Kun side-eyed him. “You planning to run alongside us?”

He knew Sun Wei had a massive crush on Xu Jiamei, but unfortunately for him, Xu Jiamei had high standards—and Sun Wei, who wiped his nose on his sleeve, did not meet them.

“I’ll take her,” Sun Wei blurted, hastily rubbing his nose as if that would somehow fix his image.

“You?” Xu Jiamei let out a short laugh before hopping off the bike. “Yeah, right. Fu Kun, you take me.”

Fu Kun didn’t respond. He didn’t dislike Xu Jiamei, but Sun Wei was his childhood friend, his brother. Watching him get brushed off so easily? Didn’t sit right.

“You can walk home,” Fu Kun said flatly, swinging a leg over his bike. He gripped the handlebars, then jerked his chin at Sun Wei.

“Get on. Let’s go.”

Sun Wei hesitated, glancing at Xu Jiamei. “Or maybe…”

Fu Kun had had enough. “Then you two go,” he snapped, slamming his foot on the pedal, ready to ride off.

“Wait, wait, wait—” At the last second, Sun Wei abandoned his fleeting fantasy. Xu Jiamei would never walk home with him anyway.

“Fu Kun!” Xu Jiamei’s face darkened. She wasn’t just some nobody—she was well-known at their school. Hell, even kids from the two nearby middle schools knew her name. Yet every time she tried to get close to Fu Kun, he brushed her off like lint on his sleeve.

“Kunzi,” Sun Wei tugged at his sleeve, lowering his voice. “Come on, man. If she gets pissed, she’ll send people after you again tomorrow.”

Fu Kun squeezed the brake, stopping his bike. One foot on the ground, he turned back to Xu Jiamei. “What now?”

“If you won’t give me a ride, then at least buy me something to eat,” she said, eyes flicking toward the row of snack shops across the street.

Fu Kun stared at her for a moment, then sighed, got off his bike, and rolled it toward the shops.

“What do you want?” He pulled out his money. His mom gave him five yuan a month for spending money. It was still early in the month, so he hadn’t spent any yet. If it were closer to the end, he’d be screwed.

“Crispy noodles,” Xu Jiamei leaned against the counter. “The Little Tiger Team brand—I’m still missing a Baby Tiger card.”

“And you?” Fu Kun turned to Sun Wei.

“Soccer chocolates,” Sun Wei licked his lips. “And some popping candy too.”

“Pick one. You think I’m made of money?” Fu Kun shot him a look.

“Chocolate.”

Fu Kun also grabbed two bags of Lang Wei Xian shrimp crackers. Judging by the way his new little brother had devoured shrimp sticks last night, he’d probably like these too.

“Fu Kun, you’re so nice,” Xu Jiamei said, tearing open her snack. As she rummaged for the collectible card inside, she casually leaned toward him.

Fu Kun immediately dodged away. The last thing he wanted was for people to see and start calling her his wife again. That nickname annoyed the hell out of him.

“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” Xu Jiamei pouted, rolling her eyes, but she didn’t push it. She pulled out the card and frowned—it wasn’t Baby Tiger. Just great.

As soon as Fu Kun stepped out of the shop and went to grab his bike, he saw a familiar figure walking toward them.

Wang Zhiqiang. Sixth grade.

Just my damn luck.

“Well, this is awkward,” Sun Wei muttered behind him.

“Let’s go.” Fu Kun climbed onto his bike. He and Wang Zhiqiang had been at odds for ages—they’d fought more than once. But today, Fu Kun wasn’t in the mood. His arm was already injured, and his mom was waiting at home to finish the job.

Unfortunately, Wang Zhiqiang had other plans.

The moment he saw Fu Kun trying to leave, he darted forward and slammed a foot down on the front wheel, stopping him in place.

“Buying snacks, huh? Didn’t think to share with me?” Wang Zhiqiang grinned, baring his teeth.

Sun Wei leaned in close, whispering against Fu Kun’s back, “He’s alone right now. Do we fight?”

Fu Kun knew there was no peaceful way out. Wang Zhiqiang’s lackeys were already pushing their bikes over from the school gates.

If they didn’t get their hits in now, they weren’t walking away at all.

“Get on,” Fu Kun muttered, tilting his head toward Sun Wei. But even as he spoke, his hand was already in motion—swinging straight for Wang Zhiqiang’s face.

He didn’t hold back. His palm cracked across Wang Zhiqiang’s nose with a sharp, brutal snap.

Wang Zhiqiang let out a strangled yell, stumbling back two steps. A searing ache spread through his nose, and before he could stop himself, tears sprang to his eyes.

Fu Kun seized the moment. He slammed his foot down on the pedal, launching the bike forward. Sun Wei sprinted after him, shoving hard against the back of the bike to give it a boost before vaulting onto the rear seat.

By the time Wang Zhiqiang snapped out of it, Fu Kun and Sun Wei were already ten meters down the road, flying.

“Fu Kun, you son of a—!” Wang Zhiqiang roared, clutching his nose. Then he turned to the boys running up behind him and slashed his hand through the air.

“After them!”