Thousands Of People Thought Of Him - Chapter 1

That Monster

“…Where’s Ying Fusang?”

Zheng Qin’s hand froze mid-air as she was flipping through her teaching materials. She looked up and scanned the classroom, her gaze pausing on an empty seat.

The other students were either quietly staring at their test papers or chatting away like nothing had happened—as if they hadn’t heard the question at all.

“……”

As a regular subject teacher at this elite private high school, Zheng Qin knew well enough that she should mind her own business.

So, she casually retracted her gaze. “Are there any issues with the first five questions on this test?”

A boy sitting in the last row by the door lost interest once Zheng Qin dropped the matter. He kicked the desk in front of him twice, leaned in, and whispered, “Hey, where’d they dump that freak this time?”

The lanky boy in front of him turned back with a grin. “Same old place, Hao-ge.”

“Ohhh—” he dragged out the sound meaningfully.

“The bathroom on the second floor of the abandoned building?”

Drip.

Water slid down from Ying Fusang’s forehead, traced the bridge of his nose, and paused at the tip before falling to the ground in a small splash.

His hair wasn’t the only thing soaked—his clothes were drenched from the bucket of water poured over him. It was winter, and now his heavy clothes clung to him, even more suffocating and weighty.

From what he heard in their conversation, this building had been left unused, full of abandoned labs—hardly anyone ever came here. Judging by the time, he’d probably been locked inside for two hours already.

Ying Fusang remained standing where he was, expressionless, merely thinking this over.

At that moment, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed in the hallway.

“Tch—what little brat’s messing around now?”

The janitor auntie frowned as she came to clean the bathroom. Seeing the padlock on the stall, she assumed it was just another student prank.

Grumbling as she went to fetch tools, she finally pried the lock open after a good while. “Phew—these kids really know how to waste my time.”

The moment she opened the door without any mental preparation, her eyes widened in shock. She let out a scream and instinctively stepped back.

There was a student locked inside?!

The cleaning lady stared at Ying Fusang in horror, her eyes darting up and down him several times, stammering, “Ah! You—you…”

Finally freed from the cramped stall, Ying Fusang offered no explanation. Instead, he flashed a smile—one he’d practiced countless times in front of a mirror. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t until the young man had already walked to the door that the janitor finally recovered from the shock.

“Hey, student! There’s an umbrella someone left at the door. It’s snowing really hard out there—you should take it!” she called out, remembering the weather.

Ying Fusang turned back and thanked her again.

Watching him leave, her gaze gradually lifted and she muttered under her breath, “That kid’s hair…?”

The bell rang just as Ying Fusang returned to the school building. Before he could make it back to class, students burst out of the classrooms like birds out of a cage, laughing and chatting as they poured toward the school gate.

“I swear, I’m so mad! I originally had those questions right but changed them to the wrong answers!”

“It’s fine, it’s just a quiz. Anyway, what are we eating later?”

Several girls from Class 7 of the senior grade were chatting when one of them suddenly stopped. “Eh? Is that Ying Fusang?”

Ying Fusang?

They all instinctively stopped and looked in the direction she pointed.

The city of A was located in the south and rarely saw snow during winter. But it was only early December and already the first snow had fallen—and it was still coming down heavily.

Ying Fusang’s striking appearance was one thing, but what really caught the eye was his head of silvery-white hair. Normally it looked out of place, but now, holding a black umbrella and walking through the snow, even the thick falling flakes seemed to exist just to accentuate him.

As if sensing their gaze, Ying Fusang stopped under a streetlamp. He tilted the umbrella back slightly and raised his head to look their way.

From their angle, they could just make out the tiny mole on the right side of his nose, with snowflakes brushing past. The whole scene was so harmonious it looked like a painting by nature itself.

“Let’s go. Come on.” One of them whispered urgently.

The others snapped out of their daze, quickly turning away and walking faster.

By the time Ying Fusang returned to the classroom, the lights had already been turned off. Just as he expected, those people hadn’t waited for him.

He packed up his things quickly. By the time he reached the school gate, it was nearly 11 p.m.

Qionghua High didn’t provide boarding, so after classes the school gate would get clogged with cars, blocking the road completely. Ying Fusang was used to it. He walked a kilometer east before he found a parked shared bike.

Because his second brother Ying Chenglang couldn’t stand him, he refused to let them ride in the same car. So the driver never came to pick Ying Fusang up.

But the school was located in a remote area, and at this hour, the only bus route still running didn’t stop near his house.

The snow was getting heavier.

Ying Fusang brushed the thick snow off the seat with his hand, pulled out the last of his tissues from his pocket, and wiped it down casually.

11:40 p.m.

When the fingerprint lock finally clicked open, Shi Suying was drinking tea in the living room. As though disturbed by an annoying sound, she glanced toward the door with irritation.

The door opened just a crack. The boy entering was covered in snow, with water dripping from his clothes. His pale skin was flushed unnaturally from the cold, and his lips were colorless.

“You’re only just getting back?” Shi Suying looked away, easily masking the disdain in her eyes, sounding like she was casually asking out of concern.

The housekeeper, Aunt Zhang, caught her signal and stepped forward to hand Ying Fusang a towel.

With frozen fingers, he took the towel and replied, “Yes.”

“Oh.” She set her teacup down with a soft clink, her voice turning cold. “Next time, try to come back more quietly, alright?”

As the lady of the Ying family, Shi Suying cared a great deal about her appearance. Thanks to good upkeep, she looked like she was just in her early forties, though she was nearing fifty.

She pulled her shawl closer and walked toward the stairs, timing everything just right. Before going upstairs, she shot a final glance at Ying Fusang and added with a fake smile, “You’re in senior year now. You should know how precious time is, right? One shouldn’t live too selfishly. Your brother still needs to study, doesn’t he?”

Ying Fusang stared at the marble tiles beneath his feet. A second late, he softly replied, “Okay.”

Even Aunt Zhang could tell something was off. Chenglang’s room was on the second floor; Ying Fusang’s was in the attic. No matter how poor the soundproofing, it wouldn’t disturb him. This was just another excuse to lecture him.

After Shi Suying left, Aunt Zhang gave Ying Fusang a look of sympathy mixed with pity. He was so covered in snow, he looked like he’d just been dug out of it.

“Young master, you should get some rest too.” She didn’t want to get involved in the family drama, so she offered a few words before returning to her room.

From an outsider’s perspective, it looked like Ying Fusang was standing there stunned, too upset to move.

But only he knew the truth: he was just zoning out, thinking about that unsolved math problem from earlier.

“Hm… that’s where I went wrong.” Finally relaxing, Ying Fusang came to a conclusion.

The next morning, he woke up from the cold.

There was no rule in the Ying family about having breakfast together, so he stayed upstairs. After sneezing loudly, Ying Fusang figured he had caught a cold.

Not life-threatening. Ignore.

After washing up and drawing this conclusion, he sat down at his desk and started working on his test paper again.

Two hours later, with his throat on fire, he decided to go downstairs for some water.

As he descended the spiral staircase, he looked up halfway down and saw three people chatting happily on the sofa.

His eldest brother, his second brother, and…

Ying Fusang was a bit face-blind, and between his dizziness and the strain from studying too long, his vision was a little blurry. It took him five seconds to recognize the guest.

He failed to.

So he didn’t waste another second thinking about it and headed straight to the kitchen.

He kept his movements light, but just as he was about to head back with a cup in hand, someone called out—

“Ying. Fu. Sang.”

He turned around to see his eldest brother, Ying Shouchuan, glaring at him. “Don’t you know how to greet guests?”

Ying Chenglang rolled his eyes at the sight of him and sneered sarcastically, “Told you—he’s just a rude little brat.”

Ignoring the second voice entirely, Ying Fusang looked at the unfamiliar guest.

The boy looked about his age, wearing only a light brown sweater in the warm room, with a gentle smile and an air of friendliness.

Ying Fusang just looked at him without saying a word.

Then, the boy smiled and looked down, his voice faintly melancholic. “It’s okay—I suppose I don’t really count as a guest.”

With that, the other two’s expressions darkened noticeably.

Ying Chenglang quickly patted his back to comfort him. “Don’t say that, Xiaoyu. You’ve always been like a real brother to me.”

He deliberately emphasized the last three words.

Fang Baiyu had grown up next door and used to hang out with them constantly. The three of them went to school and played together all the time. But not long after Ying Fusang moved in, Fang Baiyu’s family suddenly went abroad.

Even though he later realized the thought was immature, Ying Chenglang always blamed Ying Fusang for driving Fang Baiyu away—and hated him for it.

Ying Fusang didn’t respond, still studying the guest’s face.

Ying Shouchuan ended the topic and simply ignored Ying Fusang as if he were invisible. “Baiyu, you’re staying for good now that you’re back?”

Fang Baiyu looked up with a smile. “Mm, I plan to stay in China.” Then he turned to Chenglang. “Ah, I remember your birthday’s coming up next week, isn’t it?”

Chenglang lit up, pleased he remembered, and responded quickly.

But before he could say more, Fang Baiyu suddenly turned to Ying Fusang and smiled. “Then Xiao-Sang will be at the birthday party too, right?”

The two brothers’ smiles froze.

Ying Fusang was a disgrace in their eyes—a family scandal. There was no way they’d let him show up and embarrass them in public.

As the three sets of eyes locked onto him, Ying Fusang finally opened his mouth—

“Sorry, and you are?”