Carrying his filthy backpack, Fu Sheng stood where he was, waiting until Han Fei's figure disappeared into the hospital.
"He doesn't want me near the hospital, does he not want me to see his pathetic state?"
After his biological mother died, Fu Sheng completely shut himself off, refusing to communicate with the outside world, living in his own realm.
In fact, he was right to do so, for if he stepped out of his world, he would see the beastly acts of Fu Yi. He always felt surrounded by filth, so he might as well lock himself away.
Not listening, not watching, not thinking.
But recently, when the quarrels at home turned into Fu Tian's laughter, Fu Sheng tried to look outside his room. He saw a different side of his father.
No more angry scolding, no more demands, no more reveling outside, no more coming home to argue and smash things.
His father had changed, gentle, steady, reliable as if he could bear the weight of the sky and hold up their home.
