Chapter 14: Perfect “X” Shape
Li Yiyi saw that Fu Heqing’s attention had shifted to their side and immediately felt her scalp tingle. She gave Mu Mu a subtle hint and then cautiously said, “I’m not really sure about this either. I suggest you ask Brother Fu yourself, dear.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Mu Mu understood. Usually, it’s best to ask the person directly about someone else’s private matters and not reveal them casually. That’s basic human etiquette, after all.
Mu Mu nodded and returned to the painter, tugging lightly at his clothes and whispering, “Can you tell me what illness you have?”
Fu Heqing heard Mu Mu asking this quietly beside him.
Li Yiyi saw Mu Mu, who had just been sneaking around trying to learn a secret, now turn and tug on the other’s clothing. His tone was sweet and sticky, simultaneously acting coquettish while openly probing into the secrets of the wealthy family.
‘Wow, what a technique!’
No wonder this “high mountain flower,” coveted by the entire elite circle, had been completely won over by this little fool—even to the point of falling ill for him.
Indeed, sincerity will always be the little fool’s ultimate weapon.
Li Yiyi immediately felt that she couldn’t stay here any longer. What was about to happen next wasn’t something the siblings should overhear.
So she quickly grabbed Li Xunyang and took her leave.
“Why did they leave so quickly?” Mu Mu didn’t really understand. After all, the visitors had been there for less than half an hour.
“Maybe something urgent came up,” Fu Heqing said casually.
Mu Mu nodded. After meeting the friend he had only known online, he felt especially happy.
“All right, now that we’re alone,” Mu Mu said, looking at Fu Heqing, reaching out to poke the back of his hand, “what illness do you have? What should I watch out for? How should I take care of you?”
Maybe it was because Mu Mu’s tone was so natural, or maybe it was because a spirit simply didn’t understand the nuances of human illnesses. Either way, when Mu Mu asked this question, his voice was calm and casual, as if he were asking what to eat today or what groceries to buy.
Under such a relaxed tone, Fu Heqing almost ended up revealing everything.
“Nothing serious. Just some cleanliness issues and a bit of OCD,” Fu Heqing said.
“I knew that already.”
Mu Mu nodded. Anything else?
“What else?” Fu Heqing asked in return.
“There’s also the reason,” Mu Mu said seriously. “People say that most psychological issues have a cause. Sometimes that cause is the trigger itself.”
“Although I don’t fully understand, it should be like an allergen—just avoid it and you’ll be fine.”
Fu Heqing paused for a moment, then smiled. Looking toward the source of the voice, he suddenly felt his eyesight improve just a little, enough to vaguely see a faint glow.
And in that blurry, white-tinged light, Mu Mu’s outline appeared unusually clear.
“As for the reason… I can’t tell Mu Mu just yet,” Fu Heqing said, looking at him. “Wait until the timing is right.”
Mu Mu perked up at once. That was perfect! If the timing wasn’t right now, it could just wait for later. After all, he wasn’t being deliberately left out.
“All right, all right! Then it’s a promise!” Mu Mu tried to link pinkies with the painter, but after holding out his finger for a while and getting no response, he realized that the other couldn’t see him.
So Mu Mu grabbed the painter’s right hand and gently lifted his pinky, linking it with his own.
“Pinkies linked, promise sealed.”
After finishing his little gesture, Mu Mu glanced at the time and sighed, “It’s almost lunchtime. If I’d known, I would have kept Kitty around a little longer.”
“Hm?” Fu Heqing frowned slightly, his tone tinged with displeasure. “Mu Mu wants to have lunch with them the very first time he meets them?”
“No, not at all.” Mu Mu blinked his big, innocent eyes and said matter-of-factly, “I can’t make lunch yet, and since the painter can’t see, it would be difficult. If they haven’t gone back yet, they could help prepare it!”
As soon as Mu Mu finished speaking, he saw the painter smile again.
Mu Mu didn’t understand why Fu Heqing was smiling.
A spirit like him didn’t understand human social etiquette. Mu Mu only knew that if Kitty couldn’t cook either, they could still order takeout together.
In the end, Fu Heqing’s lunch was indeed takeout—the food Li Yiyi had quickly ordered before leaving.
“Wow, Kitty really is amazing,” Mu Mu said, looking at the dishes Li Yiyi had ordered—beautifully arranged, with a large strawberry cake among them.
“Wow! I wonder what this will taste like,” Mu Mu asked curiously.
“Soft… sweet,” Fu Heqing said. He didn’t eat strawberry cake, so he couldn’t describe it well.
Using his faint, blurry vision, Fu Heqing carefully opened the remaining containers, taking out each dish in turn.
It seemed mostly soups.
Mu Mu leaned eagerly over the table, five sharp, slender skeleton claws gently resting on it, and asked with some envy, “What kind of soup is this one?”
Fu Heqing glanced down at the bowl. He couldn’t see clearly, but he could taste it. “Coconut sweetened bird’s nest soup,” he replied.
“Bird’s nest soup!”
Mu Mu’s excitement grew, and he leaned even closer to the table. “I’ve heard of this! It’s good for your health! Painter, your body is sick in some places and weak in others—you need to nourish yourself properly! You should eat more!”
The body…
The body is weak.
Clang. Fu Heqing’s spoon hit the inside edge of the bowl, ringing crisply.
Mu Mu leaned in, still full of concern, completely unaware: “Painter can’t see… can’t even hold the spoon properly?”
He eagerly hooked his finger forward. “I’ll help you!”
His clean, pale finger touched Fu Heqing’s, icy cold.
Fu Heqing blocked it with his chopsticks and said helplessly, “No need. Just stay there.”
“All right.”
Mu Mu sat beside the strawberry cake, only able to watch Fu Heqing eat. After the painter had taken a few bites, a hesitant voice piped up: “So… what does this taste like?”
He looked so pitiful.
“Sweet,” Fu Heqing said.
“Smoother than Buddha Jumps Over the Wall.”
“Mm… not as rich in umami.”
Fu Heqing racked his brain, as if using every word in his vocabulary to describe the food. But Fu Heqing had only ever critiqued paintings before—never meals.
Even when he did critique paintings, the words that came to him naturally were always sharp, pointed, and often harsh—never complimentary.
Still, compared to last time, his descriptions this time were relatively “rich,” keeping Mu Mu captivated and drooling over each dish from start to finish, leaving only the huge strawberry cake untouched.
After Fu Heqing cleared the table and disposed of the food scraps, he returned and vaguely “saw” Mu Mu rolling all over the dining table.
A ghostly, faintly colored skeleton in a tiny red dress crawled in twisted shadows over the cold gray marble surface.
“Waaah… it smells so good… I really want to eat too!” Mu Mu wailed, crawling back to the strawberry cake and drooling. “I can even sleep now… when will I get to eat?”
When Fu Heqing approached, Mu Mu’s plea became even more obvious.
“Painter… you’re not going to eat the strawberry cake, right?” Mu Mu asked tentatively.
“Painter… if you’re not going to eat it, can I have it?” Mu Mu tugged on Fu Heqing’s coat, pretending to wipe away a tear.
“I can’t eat the cake now, so even just studying it would be fine, right?”
Unfortunately, Fu Heqing couldn’t see such subtle movements. He could only sense light vaguely, but for him, that was already enough.
He looked at the two dark shadows on the table and sighed.
“You know I have cleanliness issues.”
Mu Mu nodded, acknowledging that he knew.
“Don’t make a mess.”
Mu Mu immediately raised his right hand, swearing he wouldn’t.
“I’m going upstairs to change clothes. Play by yourself.”
Having received permission for the cake, Mu Mu pretended to care and said, “Okay, you be careful too.”
Fu Heqing responded with a single word and returned alone to the bedroom on the third floor.
He moved through the room with practiced ease, opening the wardrobe and feeling his clothes arranged from light to dark. Even if he couldn’t see a thing, he could accurately pick out exactly what he wanted.
He selected a shirt precisely, then reached into its pocket and pulled out a small vial of medicine.
After changing clothes and taking the medicine, Fu Heqing lay down on the bed, quietly waiting for it to take effect.
The medicine usually worked in fifteen minutes, but this time it took a full half-hour before he felt his mind growing drowsy and the room beginning to spin.
Fu Heqing didn’t make a sound. He closed his eyes to steady himself, and when he cautiously opened them again, his vision had improved significantly.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but when he pushed the door open once more, he could barely make out shapes. Though not fully restored, his eyesight was now roughly like someone with mild nearsightedness who hadn’t worn glasses—imperfect, but manageable.
Fu Heqing glanced at the clock. In the blink of an eye, two hours had passed. When he hurried back to the dining table, all he saw was the cake—no sign of the skeleton.
As he stepped closer, he suddenly noticed Mu Mu: the little skeleton was sprawled across the cake in a perfect “X” shape, using the dessert as a bed, covered head to toe in cream.
When Mu Mu saw Fu Heqing approaching, one hand held a strawberry while the other flailed wildly in his direction.
Fu Heqing felt his vision go black again.
Then he heard the tiny skeleton rushing toward him, shouting as he ran, “Painter! Painter, what’s wrong? Are you having another episode?!”
