The Fallen, Stubborn Prince - Chapter 5

“Why are those two fighting again?”

Su Qian found himself stuck between them. He turned, hoping Fang Xian would step in—but when he saw her suddenly burst into laughter, his own laughter followed uncontrollably.

In that moment, the shouting around him faded away. The noise, the people passing by—all disappeared, leaving only the bright, vivid figure in front of him. He was dazed.

Fang Xian stood up, grabbed Su Qian by the wrist, and pulled him out of the classroom.
“What are you doing just standing there? You want to stay and watch them fight?”

“Fight? Why?”

“For you, you fool!” Fang Xian blurted, forgetting all restraint.

Su Qian stared at her for a long moment, speechless, no words of protest coming to mind.

When they finally stopped under the big phoenix tree in the courtyard, Fang Xian realized something.

Su Qian… was always a step behind everyone else. He didn’t seem to catch on to what was happening around him, not really. If she didn’t keep an eye on him, things like this would keep happening.

“Su Qian,” she asked, “do you know what it means when people call someone a fool?”

“Sorry,” he said softly. He wasn’t illiterate—just slow to process things, especially when people used harsh words.

“Then aren’t you mad that I called you that?”

He shook his head. “No. Because it’s you. The uncle said once, being called names doesn’t take a piece of your flesh, so there’s no need to get angry.”

“But it still hurts here.” Fang Xian pressed her palm lightly against his chest. Beneath her hand, the boy’s body was firm, warm, and alive. Startled by her own boldness, she pulled her hand back immediately.

A faint tingling spread through Su Qian’s chest—the same strange, ticklish warmth he always felt whenever she touched him. He fought the urge to grab her hand again. He might not understand people well, but he knew at least what he shouldn’t do.

“It’s fine,” he murmured. “Just sudden. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“I don’t like hearing people call you a fool. When I hear it, it hurts more than it hurts you.”

Her voice was calm and honest, free from shyness or hidden affection. Around him, she didn’t need to pretend or guard her image.

“Alright,” he said after a pause. “I’m not a fool. I won’t let anyone call me that again.” It was the first promise he ever made to her.

“And idiot,” she added.

He smiled faintly. “Right. No ‘idiot’ either.”

That year, beneath the spreading phoenix tree, two students in uniform quietly decided each other’s roles for the years to come—and from that moment on, their paths never truly parted.

Su Qian’s awkwardness and quiet ways continued to draw strange looks from classmates. After the incident at the snack bar, whispers followed him—weird, slow, not right in the head.

You could shut one rude mouth, but you couldn’t shut them all.

Some even refused to touch anything he’d used, afraid they’d “catch” whatever he had. They were supposed to be nearly adults, yet they acted like childish ghosts.

Fang Xian saw it all. She didn’t confront them directly, but as class monitor, she found quiet ways to make things difficult for the bullies. She didn’t need to say a word—they slowly realized she disapproved.

She didn’t defend Su Qian openly either. She was waiting. Waiting for the day he’d prove them wrong himself.

She had seen his entrance exam scores. A “mentally handicapped” person couldn’t possibly score like that.

Su Qian wasn’t abnormal—he was extraordinary. She was sure that when the next exam came, he’d stun everyone. Then they’d see who the real fool was.

Despite everything, Su Qian didn’t seem unhappy. He mostly kept to himself except for Fang Xian, so the teasing didn’t really get to him. And lately, Ling Huanchen had started hanging around him too, chatting endlessly until the classroom buzzed with noise.

Lan Qian often whispered to Fang Xian, Can’t we just go back to the quiet days of last semester? Exams were coming, and yet now they had these two loud boys and their little crowd tagging along.

Fang Xian agreed—though her annoyance was mainly aimed at Ling Huanchen. He talked about Su Qian behind her back, as if trying to keep her out of their circle, and that grated on her nerves.

Still, she believed in fairness. Su Qian deserved to have his own friends. She had no right to decide who he should or shouldn’t talk to.

But lately, something felt… off. Those two boys were suddenly walking home together every day. Maybe it wasn’t strange, but somehow it felt strange.

“Su Qian,” Fang Xian said one afternoon, keeping her voice casual, “wait for me after class, okay? I need to grab the life log from the teacher’s office.”

“Alright.” He knew she had to collect it every Friday—it was part of her class monitor duties—but he didn’t ask why she was doing it after school today.

Ling Huanchen slung an arm around Su Qian’s shoulder. “Let’s go, bro. Time to head home.”

“Not today,” Su Qian said simply. “Fang Xian and I are going to get something.”

Ling Huanchen froze. Rejected. His smile faltered as his eyes flicked toward Fang Xian, full of unspoken challenge.

Fang Xian ignored him, hoisted her bag, and pulled Su Qian toward the door.

Girls either adored Ling Huanchen or couldn’t stand him—he was that kind of boy. But Fang Xian? She was like a bottomless pit; no matter what he threw at her, nothing ever came back. He could only shout after them, half teasing, half resentful:

“Hey, Ah Qian! Don’t you dare tell her our secret, you hear me? Or you’re dead!”

Secret.

The word hit Fang Xian like a spark. Her hand tightened around Su Qian’s wrist, pulling him before he could turn back.

The “life log” was just an excuse. She simply couldn’t stand seeing them together. Call her controlling, unreasonable, whatever—she knew Ling Huanchen wasn’t a good influence, and the thought of Su Qian being led astray made her uneasy.

“Fang Xian… you’re hurting my hand.”

He didn’t actually feel pain—but he could sense something was wrong. She was upset.

Su Qian never fully understood people’s emotions. Unless someone made them obvious, anger or sadness usually went over his head.

But Fang Xian was different. Even when she stayed silent, he could feel what she felt.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, loosening her grip.

“It’s okay,” he replied. “Even if you did it on purpose, I wouldn’t mind. I like it when you hold my hand. I could walk like that with you forever.”