Chapter 234: Origins Relived: Brotherhood [1]
Su Tianhao and Chuan moved through Jiaohe Town, enjoying the lively wonders the town had to offer.
They drifted from stall to stall without particular destination—drawn by smell more than intention. Simmering broth from a roadside pot. Freshly pulled dumplings still trailing steam. Roasted sweet potato that burned their fingers. Fried dough twisted into paper cones. Skewers of something the vendor called premium river beast with a confidence neither of them questioned.
They tasted everything. They haggled nothing. They spent freely and without apology, moving through the morning market the way people move when they have decided, for one hour at least, that the future can wait.
In just one hour, they had squandered the complete eight bronze coins.
---
"I can't believe we just spent eight bronze coins like that," Su Tianhao said, his voice carrying exaggerated pain while his golden eyes glinted with warmth, a pleasant smile betraying him entirely.
"While we have to struggle, it's important to live every now and then," Chuan chuckled freely, completely unbothered by anything in the world. "Not just on birthdays."
Young Su Tianhao couldn't help but look at him with open admiration. For the present Su Tianhao reliving this memory through the crystalline clarity of Fluidity, that admiration only deepened.
'Such freedom,' he thought inwardly. 'Completely detached from expectations, ambitions, circumstances... how envious.'
Then something clicked.
A name surfaced in his mind.
Xiao Fenghua.
That same easy, unperforming warmth. That same quality of someone who had looked at the weight of the world and simply chosen not to carry it. In that instant, Su Tianhao understood what had been pulling at him since the entrance examination—why Xiao Fenghua's presence had stirred memories of someone from a distant past.
That someone was Chuan.
He didn't let his thoughts run further. Instead he focused on the memory, and on the question sitting quietly beneath it.
What had happened to Chuan?
The two walked side by side, making their way back toward the orphanage—unhurried, unbothered, three days of stored food already waiting at the warehouse.
Then a robust figure in luxurious silks came around a corner and collided squarely into Su Tianhao, hard enough that he staggered backward. Chuan caught him by the arm before he hit the ground.
Whether the collision was intentional or not, Su Tianhao didn't particularly care.
"What's your problem!" he snapped—and then, the words died on his tongue as he glanced at the figure who collided into him.
She was a heavyset woman draped in expensive silk robes and layered jewelry—jade earrings, a shining necklace, golden bracelets—none of it quite achieving the attractive effect it was intended to. Two tall men in formal black robes flanked her on either side, standing with the particular stillness of professional guards.
The woman stepped closer, her voice dropping into something low and deliberate.
"My, my," she said, eyes moving across Su Tianhao's face with an attention that made his skin crawl. "Aren't you a pretty little thing."
Su Tianhao's brows drew together, his eyes darkening.
Chuan's hand closed firmly around his arm.
"We're leaving."
No room for argument.
He pulled Su Tianhao away without looking back, moving at a pace just short of running. The woman's voice followed from behind—sharp, affronted, carrying the particular fury of someone unaccustomed to being ignored.
"You brats! How dare you walk away from this madam! You'll regret it!"
The chill that ran down both their spines was answer enough. They quickened their pace and didn't slow until the orphanage gates were behind them and the door of their room was shut firmly at their backs. Several orphans turned to watch them arrive, exchanging curious glances.
"They must have stolen from the wrong person."
"Looks like they found trouble... or trouble finally found them."
They weren't far wrong—but they didn't know the half of it.
"We've offended someone important," Chuan muttered through uneven breaths, his back against the door.
Su Tianhao sank to the floor, legs giving out. "I'm sorry—I didn't—"
"It's not your fault."
Chuan's voice was sharp but not unkind, his obsidian eyes carrying a rare seriousness. "Don't blame yourself for what you didn't do. That kind of weight will only slow you down. You have to learn to live without it."
"Learn to live without burdens," Su Tianhao repeated, a dry, almost self-mocking laugh escaping him. "Not everyone is built like you, Chuan."
"Of course not!" Chuan snorted with full conviction. "The world would be a far better place if they were."
Su Tianhao couldn't hold it. A genuine laugh broke through—light, uncalculated, the kind that arrives without permission.
Chuan's laughter joined it—full, hearty, unrestrained, filling the small room until even the tension of the past hour felt like something that had happened to other people.
"That's the spirit," Chuan said, ruffling Su Tianhao's hair when the laughter settled. "Don't worry about that woman. I haven't seen her around town before—she's likely passing through. Tomorrow we go to the warehouse and lie low for three days. By the time we come out, she'll be gone."
Su Tianhao nodded slowly. The anxiety drained from his chest like water from a cracked vessel—quiet, gradual, leaving something steadier behind.
No matter how petty a person was, they gave up eventually... right?
With that assurance settled between them, the two let the matter go and moved through the rest of the day without friction.
Neither of them knew what was already in motion.
---
The next morning, before the sun had fully cleared the curtains and while most of the children in the room were still turning in their sleep, a knock arrived at the door.
Knock. Knock.
Su Tianhao woke first. Chuan a moment after.
"I'll get it."
Chuan patted Su Tianhao's shoulder and slipped out quietly, pulling the door shut behind him.
The moments he was gone stretched longer than they should have. When Chuan returned, his expression had changed—a quiet, settled solemnity that Su Tianhao's instincts recognized immediately as wrong.
"Chuan." His voice came out low and even. "What is it?"
A brief hesitation.
Then—
"The house master has requested your presence."
"What?!"
The outburst woke several children. The room stirred with half-awake irritation that shifted quickly into curiosity, and then into the particular vicious satisfaction of people who have been waiting for someone else's bad luck.
Su Tianhao didn't spare them a glance. His eyes stayed fixed on Chuan.
"He didn't say why," Chuan said quietly. "The head nun wouldn't tell me."
A long moment passed. Su Tianhao gathered himself—straightening his posture, steadying his breathing, arranging his expression into something calm.
"Let's go."
He stood and left the room. Chuan followed without being asked.
Outside in the hallway, the head nun was waiting—an elderly woman in full nun's garments, her expression carrying a pity she made no effort to conceal.
Su Tianhao offered a swift bow. "I greet the head nun."
She acknowledged it with a nod. "Follow me."
Chuan fell naturally into step behind them.
The head nun glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, not breaking her pace. "Only him. You aren't needed."
Chuan kept walking anyway, his fists tight at his sides.
"Suit yourself," the head nun shrugged. "You won't even be permitted to enter the office." She left it at that and said nothing more, moving through the hallway at an unhurried pace.
Soon they arrived at the office. The head nun and Su Tianhao entered, while Chuan positioned himself beside the door and waited.
Inside, the house master sat behind a desk buried under months of ignored paperwork. He wore his signature brown robes. Two nuns attended him—one behind his chair, one to his side—both dressed in revealing robes that had no business being called uniform. He didn't look up when they entered, engrossed in leisure pleasure.
Su Tianhao scanned the room with a cold, measuring gaze and said nothing.
Eventually the house master's eyes lifted, a slow smirk curling beneath his mustache. "If it isn't the so-called golden child."
"What do you want?" Su Tianhao said flatly—no greeting, no deference, none of the nervousness a boy his age should have.
The house master's smirk sharpened. "Insolent! Not even a greeting for your elder." A pause, deliberately savored. "I would've had you punished, but you're in luck today. Someone has paid for your adoption."
Su Tianhao's eyes narrowed. This orphanage didn't operate on payment. Adoption was celebrated—not sold.
"And if I refuse?"
"You don't have a say." The house master rose sharply, startling the two nuns into scrambling backward. He barked at them to leave and they fled without looking back, the door closing hard behind them. Then he turned to the head nun with a pleasant expression that didn't reach his eyes. "Inform the others. Let's give the golden child a proper send-off."
The head nun nodded, cast one quiet apologetic glance at Su Tianhao, and left.
The moment she was gone, the house master seized Su Tianhao's arm and dragged him out.
Su Tianhao was only six years old. Although he had a sharp mind, his body was still that of a child—resistance was futile. He struggled anyway, demanding to be released, his voice ringing through the hallway.
Chuan stood frozen at the door.
He took one look at the house master's grip on Su Tianhao's arm, and his face went white.
His legs moved before his mind could process it. He fell into step behind them immediately.