Bone-Attached Disaster - Chapter 35:

Chapter 35: Full Name

When the two entered the banquet hall, they were greeted by silence from the entire room.

A few seconds later, a torrent of applause and cheers swept through the venue. Everyone was stunned. No one had been certain Fu Jia’an would show up today, and what was even more unexpected was that he came with Lu Jie!

Lu Jie looked around the hall. Although it was billed as “grand,” in reality, it felt lively and warm. The banquet hall wasn’t large; it held four long tables adorned with scented candles and small, delicate floral arrangements of fresh lily of the valley. Except for the red carpet area, which was brightly lit, the dining area only had the dimmest wall lamps on. At a glance, the light flickered and danced from the candles.

Lu Jie noticed Fu Jia’an quietly letting go of his arm. The two stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the middle of the red carpet, following the photographer’s instructions for a few photos, and then proceeded to their seats together.

Everyone was present. Perhaps to foster a more intimate atmosphere, the tables were close together. As Lu Jie and Fu Jia’an navigated their way to the last two empty seats, it was like maneuvering a boat through a reed marsh. Although they didn’t want to disturb others’ dining, they had to turn sideways and walk carefully while being greeted by one smiling face after another.

Since everyone hadn’t seen Fu Jia’an for so many years, each person was shocked yet delighted, insisting on pulling him over to talk and drink. Lu Jie followed behind, unable to pass him, and had to stand and wait… He felt exactly like a bodyguard.

The total distance was about ten meters, but it took them ten minutes to finally reach their spots. The seating was prearranged with name cards on the tables. Lu Jie’s left was Peng Yuan, opposite him was Jiang Yan, and Ye Mingyan, Xu Qiaowei, Teacher Dai, and Teacher Mo were nearby. At the other end, next to the wall, there was an empty seat without a name—that’s where Fu Jia’an sat down.

Before Lu Jie’s butt even touched the chair, Peng Yuan threw an arm around him and whispered in his ear amidst the near-boiling chatter, “You two look exactly like a pair of newlyweds making the rounds to toast.”

Everyone present was already familiar. Peng Yuan’s volume near Lu Jie’s ear wasn’t exactly a secret whisper; it was more like yelling over the music in a nightclub to be heard. At the very least, everyone nearby heard it clearly.

The table behind them immediately chimed in, laughing. “Yeah, you two are the undisputed stars of the show tonight! Boss Lu, you definitely have to drink more tonight!”

Lu Jie didn’t even have time to deal with the teasing. From the moment he walked the red carpet with Fu Jia’an, he was destined to be relentlessly ribbed tonight. He raised his hand to clutch his forehead, admitting sheepishly, “This is too embarrassing…”

He glanced over at Fu Jia’an, who looked completely composed, smiling and chatting with Ye Mingyan.

Lu Jie felt a sense of “failed scheming backfiring.” He thought, If I had known, I would have just entered last. It wouldn’t have been this awkward.

Forget it, just make the best of it. It was all just playful fun. Once everyone ate and drank happily, they would probably forget about it. Lu Jie felt hot, so he took off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. In just his shirt, he unbuttoned a few more buttons, trying to relax as much as possible.

There was a small ice bucket in front of him. Lu Jie rolled up his sleeves, used the tongs to put several ice cubes into his glass, and poured in some coke. A sip of the drink finally made him feel much more comfortable.

But the next sentence almost made Lu Jie spit out his coke.

Teacher Mo pointed at Lu Jie and Fu Jia’an, seemingly hesitating to speak. “You two… when did this happen?”

In the blink of an eye, Mo Xuan was nearly forty years old. He was aware of the current state of free love among young people, but he still couldn’t calm down after this explosive news. He tried to appear less old-fashioned but was genuinely too curious.

Lu Jie said helplessly, “Teacher Mo, they’re just joking.”

Jiang Yan, enjoying the spectacle, raised an eyebrow. “Did you know that besides you two, there were two others who walked the red carpet together tonight? And those two are a real couple.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know?” Fu Jia’an kindly explained from the side. “Peng Yuan and Ye Mingyan are together.”

It was Lu Jie’s turn to be shocked. He looked at the two. “When did that happen?”

Fu Jia’an replied, “They’ve been together for a long time, since graduating high school.”

“Wait, how do you know better than me?”

“Because—” Just as Lu Jie thought Fu Jia’an was about to reveal some impressive, magical channel, Fu Jia’an’s tone shifted. “They’ve been posting about it constantly on Moments (WeChat feeds).”

“……”

Well, Lu Jie admittedly didn’t check his Moments often.

Actually, it wasn’t just about not checking Moments. Peng Yuan’s crush on Ye Mingyan became increasingly obvious in the last two months of senior year; anyone with eyes could see it.

Lu Jie rarely had such a slow realization, but for some reason, he was a bit muddled during that time, less concerned with the happenings of the world than Peng Yuan was.

Jiang Yan complained to Peng Yuan, “That’s just how he is. He doesn’t really care about his friends’ love lives.”

Lu Jie ruthlessly exposed him. “Stop muddling the waters. Is your situation the same as theirs?”

The topic changed quickly, and soon focused on Fu Jia’an, whom they hadn’t seen in years. Xu Qiaowei had been staring at Fu Jia’an for a while, truly surprised by how much he had changed. The frailty and muddied look of his youth were completely gone. In addition to his stunning facial features, his demeanor was now calm yet resiliently gentle, like a thin, beautiful veil that drew people in but made them aware they couldn’t get too close.

No one could touch the hem of a god’s robe unless he was willing to be captured.

But when Xu Qiaowei saw the undisguised look in Fu Jia’an’s eyes directed at Lu Jie, everything became clear—he still hadn’t let go of the person he loved in his youth.

“We were supposed to have an afterparty at the rooftop garden,” Peng Yuan said regretfully after checking his phone. “I heard it’s raining outside.”

“Maybe the rain will stop after dinner,” Ye Mingyan said. “I really wanted to see the view from upstairs. I heard it’s amazing.”

Due to the rain, the memorial video that was originally planned for the end was played early. A staff member operated the projector, and the footage appeared on the screen.

While everyone was watching the short film, Lu Jie received a call from Dai Mengshu, which he immediately hung up.

A text message arrived. Dai Mengshu asked if he was coming home for dinner tonight. Lu Jie replied: [I’m at a class reunion this week, won’t be back].

Last week’s excuse was overtime. He hadn’t communicated much with Dai Mengshu for two weeks. Lu Jie sighed inwardly, thinking about how he would deal with next Friday. Then he figured he should focus on the present. Since he was at a class reunion, he shouldn’t slack off and should watch the short film too.

Lu Jie wasn’t easily moved by sentimental videos, but today’s short film was played in reverse chronological order. It opened with the footage of them walking the red carpet today, likely a quickly edited clip. Following that were clips from the reunions of previous years, with photos of students who missed a particular year interspersed with other life photos.

As the years rewound, Lu Jie suddenly realized that everyone really had changed a lot. Even Jiang Yan, who seemed to have changed the least in his eyes, looked steadier and broader in the shoulders than a few years ago.

However, in this twelve-year rewind, there was not a single frame featuring Fu Jia’an.

To be honest, Lu Jie had never seriously confronted the abrupt break-up between him and Fu Jia’an. Their recent interactions were tentative and circling within a safe zone, never touching the most sensitive topic.

And those seemingly unimportant questions, hidden beneath the faded scars, finally broke through the surface at this moment.

What Lu Jie had always wanted to ask was: Did you not blame me for hurting you, causing you to bleed and need stitches? I was only thinking of myself and never understood how difficult things were for you. Do you not hate me?

You said you liked me, yet you disappeared for twelve whole years. Isn’t that contradictory?

As the short film reached its end, the footage became very blurry. He didn’t know where Peng Yuan got these images—some were deliberately recorded during class activities, and others were secretly captured by students on their phones. Some distant memories were awakened. Someone had even secretly filmed Fu Jia’an sleeping on his desk on his first day transferring to Class 3-1, and later, a photo of him giving his acceptance speech in the basketball court after winning the physics competition silver medal.

After that, there were no more single shots of Fu Jia’an, only ones with Lu Jie. It was as if they always appeared together, rarely apart: Fu Jia’an and Lu Jie in school uniforms walking through the corridor, Lu Jie carrying Fu Jia’an on the school track, from the short-sleeve-wearing autumn to the snowy winter.

Then Fu Jia’an disappeared entirely. One photo showed Lu Jie sitting alone at his desk, the seat to his left empty. On the empty desk was a stack of neatly folded papers, weighted down by a thick dictionary.

The ending was the graduation photo. There was an empty space next to Lu Jie, the one they had all agreed to save for Fu Jia’an.

Lu Jie couldn’t help but glance beside him. Perhaps intentionally avoiding this video, Fu Jia’an had left his seat to go to the restroom. In this quick glance, Lu Jie happened to see the phone resting on his table.

Lu Jie remembered Fu Jia’an’s phone case vividly since they reconnected: a transparent outer shell with a pure white background, and a triangularly folded yellow paper charm clipped between the case and the phone body.

At first glance, this didn’t quite match Fu Jia’an’s persona—a seemingly ethereal, desireless genius in others’ eyes, yet needing a charm like an ordinary person to bless his wishes.

Lu Jie wasn’t surprised. He knew Fu Jia’an wasn’t without desires; at the very least, he must have wished to be healthier and fall ill less often. The charm might also have been sought by his family, wishing him to live peacefully and safely in this world, much like the meaning of his given name, “Jia’an.”

However, Lu Jie’s unintentional glance revealed something else. In the middle of the folded charm, a white strip of paper seemed to be tucked inside. The strip of paper was originally completely hidden within the charm, but a corner had accidentally slipped out due to years of shifting.

Lu Jie recognized that there were characters written on the small strip. Judging by the exposed stroke, it was likely the lower half of the character. The handwriting was very familiar; Lu Jie recognized his own penmanship immediately.

The full content of the paper strip was also easy to imagine: the full name “Fu Jia’an” .