Fouls Prohibited

Ye Ci flipped through the exercise book, found a few types of problems that Huo Tinglan had gone over, and did them independently.

After working on them for a while, his mood finally calmed down. Ye Ci raised his head and looked at Huo Tinglan several times, wanting to thank him when their eyes finally met, but Huo Tinglan was very focused on his work. Ye Ci stared so hard that his eyes were sore, and didn’t get an opportunity.

After hesitating for a while, Ye Ci called out softly, “Mr. Huo . . . .”

He had been in Mr. Huo’s house for so long and had hardly ever taken the initiative to speak to Huo Tinglan. During their few exchanges, Huo Tinglan spoke first and he replied, so he never addressed the man.

Huo Tinglan had been watching him for a long time from the corner of his eye, and sure enough, he was waiting for an awkward “Mr. Huo.”

In his last life, Ye Ci was also like this.

From the time they were acquainted, through the ambiguous courting period, it was always a polite and unfamiliar, “Mr. Huo.” After getting to know each other well, he couldn’t defeat Huo Tinglan and finally started calling him by his first name. But even during the most intimate times, he only used his name and refused to call him anything else. When he was ruthlessly teased about it, he blushed with a peach-like face, bowed his head, clenched his fingertips in embarrassment and said nothing. After many times, Huo Tinglan knew that he was really unable to speak, not only because of his personality, but also because of a speech impediment. He couldn’t bear to tease him like that anymore, so he had to settle for the next best thing, comforting himself by thinking that it was enough to go by his first name.

Huo Tinglan pondered for a while, put down the document, and leaned lazily against the back of the chair. He tapped the table with his fingertips but did not respond to the “Mr. Huo.” Instead, he changed the topic and said distantly: “It seems this is the first time you’ve called me.”

“. . . . Really?” Ye Ci became uncomfortable.

Huo Tinglan’s tone was neither hot nor cold: “Why so formal . . . . I thought you were going to talk to me about business.”

Ye Ci didn’t say a word and lowered his eyes, showing a hint of shame.

After all, they were married and living under the same roof. Calling him like that showed that he was estranged from Huo Tinglan . . . .

He felt that Huo Tinglan was a little unhappy.

But he really didn’t know how to address him.

“Next time,” Huo Tinglan pondered his expression. A smile appeared in his eyes, and he tentatively said, “Call me Huo-shushu.”[1]

They were twelve years apart in age. One was a working man and the other was a student. In addition, the elders of the Huo and Chu families were of the same generation, so it was reasonable to call him “Shushu.” And the point was, Huo Tinglan had always been itching for this title.

On certain occasions . . . . it could work wonders.

“. . . . . .” When Ye Ci heard these words, his jaw clenched and the corners of his mouth flattened. There was an awkward aura of “there is no next time” all over him.

A few seconds went by.

He turned his face away and gave a very light, “En.”

The Ye Ci of this time had thawed his thin, cool shell of ice, and the little things hidden inside turned out to be so cute and soft . . . .

Huo Tinglan turned his gaze back as if nothing had happened, and looked at his documents calmly. The corners of his lips were barely visible, slightly raised.

. . . . . .

He deliberately didn’t ask Ye Ci what he had called him for. Five minutes later, Ye Ci had finally regrouped and stammeringly called: “Huo-shushu . . . .”

Huo Tinglan smiled, and a low syllable escaped: “Hm?”

Seventeen or eight-year-old boys, strictly speaking, were past the age of using the duplicate character address of “Shushu.” He thought that with Ye Ci’s awkward temperament, he would definitely find a way to address him more rigidly, but he didn’t expect it to be word-for-word.

The clear, youthful voice carried annoyance and embarrassment, but was obedient and called “Shushu” so softly . . . .

Huo Tinglan sighed tenderly in his heart.

It was really killing him.

“Thank you for your hard work today. You helped me with . . . . so many questions.” Ye Ci worked out the draft in his mind and completed it in one go. 

“You’re welcome.” Huo Tinglan settled down, closed one document, and opened another. “Feel free to ask me anytime.”

Ye Ci looked at the thick stack of documents by his hand. “Your work . . . . are you very busy?”

“It depends on the situation whether I’m busy or not,” Huo Tinglan said lightly.

Ye Ci understood, and thought he meant that he wasn’t sure when he would be busy or idle.

Huo Tinglan wrote a few words on a contract and completed the second half of his sentence: “Learning is an important matter, and if you come to me with questions, I won’t be busy.”

He looked calm, as if what he said was a normal thing, but Ye Ci seemed to have been hit by a critical blow. Dizzy, he squeezed out two words: “. . . . Mm, en.”

Even if he hadn’t seen much of the world, he had lived for eighteen years and except for Ye Hongjun, no one had ever treated him with such care.

He always knew how to handle people who didn’t welcome him – just compare fists and see whose was harder.

But no one had taught him how to get along with people who were nice to him.

He wanted to get close and wait to give the same kindness in return, but he was afraid he would be awkward and make a fool out of himself.

Huo Tinglan raised his eyes and saw Ye Ci stammering, unable to squeeze out the whole sentence, and his heart softened. He had finally received a miracle, and softly soothed: “It’s no trouble at all, it won’t bother me.” He flicked the paper in his hands and sighed with a smile: “Thinking about this stuff is more tiring than going over some questions . . . . just help me take my mind off it, okay?”

“. . . . Okay.” Ye Ci’s eyes shook slightly, and he nodded seriously.

With Huo Tinglan’s guidance, Ye Ci saw hope, and his enthusiasm for learning rose. In addition to the homework assigned by the school, he also had to make up for the progress lost when he took a break from his education. In order to complete the goals he had set for himself, he did not sleep until the early hours of the morning. After a continuous week of hunkering down, he was haggard. His skin was still as white and tender as bamboo shoots, but the bruises under his eyes were also very obvious.

Huo Tinglan was both relieved and distressed, afraid that Ye Ci would be overwhelmed. At eleven o’clock in the evening, he went to the study room to expel him, and personally watched him go back to his room to rest.

Ye Ci promised to be obedient, but secretly put the rolls of paper folded into small tofu cubes into his pockets, smuggled them across the border, and lit the lights in the bedroom. At night, when he was sleepy, he slipped out to the terrace to smoke a cigarette.

He had always slept very little, and his body could withstand the abuse. In order to raise money for Ye Hongjun’s medical treatment, he often worked day and night during that difficult year. When he was sleepy while working part-time, he took a nap at the cash register with his head up, and when he opened his eyes, he had the strength to work again.

However, it may be that Huo Tinglan had coddled him during this period of time. After staying up all night and studying hard for half a month, Ye Ci was really tired.

That Friday, Ye Ci routinely woke early, got out of bed, and dug out a few pills from his school bag.

Fatigue had likely led to low immunity, which was taken advantage of by a cold virus. He had not been feeling well for the past two days, with repeated fever, drowsiness, and fatigue. His stomach and intestines were also affected, and his stomach was inexplicably sore and swollen.

Ye Ci pulled out the pills, gathered a small handful in his palm, and swallowed them all at once.

Anti-inflammatory, anti-viral, fever-reducer, and pain-reducer . . . .

He had developed this kind of unreasonable drug habit in the past two years. While working several jobs a day, he had no time to go to the hospital. He simply adopted a broad-spectrum attack method and took all the medications that might relieve his symptoms, and got better early to avoid delaying work.

Unlike before, this cold was quite stubborn. Ye Ci took the medicine for two days and it failed to work. When he looked ill while eating breakfast, the truth was revealed.

“Is Young Master Ye uncomfortable?” Uncle He asked with concern.

“It’s nothing.” Ye Ci swallowed the porridge while holding back nausea. “It’s just . . . . a small fever.”

Uncle He looked at his flushed face and felt that it didn’t look like a low-grade fever, so he suggested: “I will tell Mr. Huo and ask him to request a half-day’s leave for you, and call the doctor again to take a look . . . . what do you think?”

“No, don’t bother him . . . . thank you.” Ye Ci got up and left.

He was afraid that Huo Tinglan would watch him more strictly to get him to sleep, but he really wanted to catch up to the school’s progress rate ASAP.

As a result, Uncle He spread the word quickly. As soon as Ye Ci arrived at school, Huo Tinglan called to confirm whether or not he was really okay.

“It’s really fine . . . . I’m on medication.” Ye Ci walked out of the classroom and into the corridor with his cell phone. Because of the fever, his voice was extremely faint.

“What medication?” Huo Tinglan asked.

In order to make him feel at ease, Ye Ci stammered out a long list of drug names.

Huo Tinglan was silent for a while, then took a deep breath before saying: “Excessive use of cold medicine may cause liver and kidney damage, do you not know?”

Ye Ci was stunned. He really didn’t know.

What liver and kidney damage . . . . he had never heard of such a thing, and knew that he was going to get better soon.

Huo Tinglan sighed softly and asked: “What’s your body temperature?”

“I haven’t measured it . . . .” Ye Ci sensed that Huo Tinglan was unhappy, and hurriedly said, “I’m, I’m sure it must be a low-grade fever.”

He said it was a low-grade fever, but in fact, he had no idea. Anyway, if it wasn’t burning hot, he would just sit back as usual and treat it as a low-grade fever.

“Low-grade fever . . . .” Huo Tinglan knew that Ye Ci’s definition of a “low-grade fever” was different from ordinary people. He furrowed his brow and instructed: “Go to the infirmary. After measuring your temperature, take a picture of the thermometer and send it to me. If the fever is serious, I will pick you up.”

“No need.” Ye Ci licked his lips. “This morning, it’s all, all major subjects, I, I want to be in school . . . .”

In a rare instance, Huo Tinglan interrupted him in a low, cool voice: “Want me to measure it for you myself?”

Ye Ci was stunned. After getting along together for so long, it was the first time he had heard Huo Tinglan speak to him in this tone. His heart thumped for some reason and he said hurriedly: “No, no need, I . . . . I will measure it myself.”

He dragged his steps to the infirmary, his head dizzy with fever and his legs weak due to the dull pain in his lower abdomen. His symptoms were worse than they were before taking medicine in the morning. He asked the school nurse for an electronic thermometer and sat down on the edge of the bed to take his temperature, absentmindedly fiddling with his phone. When his fingertips brushed the words, “Huo-shushu,” in the call log, an indescribable feeling suddenly surged in his heart.

Something like . . . . comforting warmth.

The whole of his person seemed to be miniaturized into a small mass and held securely by a pair of warm palms.

It was a totally unfamiliar feeling.

At this moment, the electronic thermometer beeped.

39.5. [2]

His heart was heated by that warmth. Ye Ci pursed his lips and hesitated for a while, but finally didn’t try to be brave. He honestly took a picture and sent it to Huo Tinglan.

It only took two or three seconds before the opposite side quickly replied.

[Huo Tinglan]: Wait for me.

A moment later, he was afraid that Ye Ci would be reckless, so he sent two more messages.

[Huo Tinglan]: I’ll take you to the hospital now. You can make up for the missed classes.

[Huo Tinglan]: Be good.

It was an unexpectedly coaxing tone.

Ye Ci was in a daze.

He was a school student . . . .

What was good or bad?

He was coaxed to the point of fidgeting, covering his face with one hand out of fear that the school nurse would see him.

The skin beneath his fingers was already growing red.

The author has something to say:

Mr. Huo has officially become Huo-shushu, and calling him ‘Shushu’ has miraculous effects on certain occasions. What are the specific occasions? The auditor stares and the editor, and the editor dares not say.

[1] 叔叔: Shūshu is a term used for a person’s father’s younger brother, or a way of addressing a man around one’s father’s age or slightly younger. ⮐

[2] 103.1 degrees Fahrenheit. ⮐