Thousands Of People Thought Of Him - Chapter 17

“Do you like him?”

At the same time—

“Hahahahahahaha! Who told you not to check human laws before transforming? I already wanted to laugh when I saw you asking about ‘justifiable self-defense’ last time!” Jiang Tan, while looking for pen and paper, was enjoying the drama.

As the God of Fate, a high-level employee of the heavens, she could observe any small world at will.

“If you ask me, the moment he brought out the Wildlife Protection Law, you should’ve jumped into a fish tank immediately. Then pop your head out dramatically and claim that your blue feathers were dyed—that you’re just a normal grey~ pigeon~.”

Still searching for a pen, she continued laughing and commenting, “But with your personality, so obsessed with appearances, there’s no way you’d let yourself become a plain old grey pigeon.”

“You have thirty seconds left,” said Qi Xingwen, standing at the door, smiling as he urged her on.

Because today was the annual Divine Assembly, every being with a divine title had to attend on time. Even if he didn’t want to come back, Qi Xingwen had no choice. His mood was already sour, and Jiang Tan’s teasing wasn’t helping.

“Don’t rush, don’t rush—done!” She instantly teleported to the door and casually said, “Let’s go.”

The main purpose of the Divine Assembly was to report work. Heaven now operated in a mixed modern-traditional style. Even though there were office buildings and meeting rooms, this millennia-old event was still held in a grand palace.

“Did you finish the paper you were going to present at that academic conference later?”

“Sigh, I’m thinking of dropping out of it. I’ve been swamped lately—no time to research.”

“Hey, I heard the new King of the Underworld is still in their one-year probation?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what Yin Fusan was thinking, choosing someone with such little ability. Apparently, the place is a total mess.”

“I heard the judge of the Underworld Court is still—”

Further up ahead, the chatter finally began to die down.

This current Heavenly Emperor was a stickler for tradition—meaning he was all about ceremony. Everyone attending the meeting had to wear ancient ceremonial robes. Once near the palace, all divine powers were suppressed, and the 200 steps leading to the hall could only be climbed on foot.

“What, does he think he’s some kind of emperor? Ridiculous.” Jiang Tan muttered, lifting her robes with one hand and wiping sweat with the other as she finally reached the door, out of breath.

Turning her head, she saw that Qi Xingwen’s face didn’t look good, and said knowingly, “Still worried about over there? Don’t worry—it’s just an hour. Over there, only about half a month will have passed. Didn’t he say he wouldn’t go back for another month? Don’t stress.”

Qi Xingwen didn’t respond.

“Even if your suspicions about that person are correct, we can monitor him in advance. He won’t be able to stir up much trouble. Don’t get so worked up.”

“Let’s hope so,” Qi Xingwen muttered, still feeling uneasy.

…

Yi Fusang had originally planned to return home in a month, but whenever he zoned out, he would think about that “non-existent” fake mountain sparrow. He couldn’t help but wonder whether it had disappeared.

So, on the second weekend after the semester started, he returned to the Yi household.

Dragging his suitcase through the door, the first person he saw was Zhang Ma, who was leading several servants in cleaning the house.

Hearing the sound, Zhang Ma instinctively paused her mopping and looked up, surprised and delighted. “Oh my, young master is home!”

Yi Fusang greeted her politely.

According to her, Yi Chenglang was attending university in a neighboring city and wouldn’t be back this weekend; Shi Suying was out playing cards with friends; Yi Shouchuan and Yi Deqing were still at the office. So, for now, Yi Fusang didn’t have to deal with anyone.

He unlocked the attic door with his key, only to be greeted by a wave of dust. Instead of going in immediately, he stood at the entrance, silently inspecting the room’s furnishings. Once he determined everything looked normal, he stepped inside.

After putting down his things, Yi Fusang immediately went to the windowsill to check the birdcage. The food he had left before was gone, the water was half full, and the mountain sparrow was still there, just as before.

It was perched on its roost with its eyes closed, head tucked into its feathers, seemingly asleep.

This “non-existent” fake mountain sparrow was… still “existent.”

When would it finally fly away?

After watching for a while, Yi Fusang opened the window fully to let in some air. He tidied up the room, but when he checked again, he noticed the sparrow hadn’t moved an inch. But he remembered it was a light sleeper, easily roused…

A bit suspicious, he reached a finger through the cage bars, intending to gently prod it—

Knock knock knock—

At that moment, loud knocks rang out on the door.

Yi Fusang had to withdraw his hand and went to open the door.

He had thought it was Zhang Ma needing something, but the person standing there was—

“Yi. Fusang.” Yi Shouchuan stood at the door, face filled with anger, glaring at him with piercing eyes.

He was dressed in a suit, not even having changed out of his work clothes, meaning he must’ve come straight from the office—just like when Yi Chenglang came to confront him. So, obviously, nothing good was about to happen.

To prevent him from seeing the birdcage, Yi Fusang calmly stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Even as he asked, he had already begun mentally preparing a list of rebuttals.

Yi Shouchuan had always hated that indifferent look of his, and now, his anger had hit a new high.

“Tell me—are you deliberately targeting Baiyu at school?” He loosened his tie, suppressing his rage, spitting out each word.

Yi Fusang was confused. In this moment, the only thing he felt was bewilderment—he truly didn’t understand what this was about.

Confused or not, he wasn’t going to take the blame for something he hadn’t done.

“No,” he replied flatly, looking him directly in the eye.

But to Yi Shouchuan, his firm denial only came across as brazen defiance and refusal to admit guilt.

He took a sharp breath, chest rising and falling with anger. “No? He’s been sick for a week! Why did you still force him to do that group project?! He was still getting IV drips in the hospital and trying to explain to you! What the hell do you want from him?!”

After the barrage of accusations, Yi Fusang was: ???

In the past, he might’ve thought arguing back was a waste of time. But ever since the incidents with his hallucinations, something inside him had shifted—something he couldn’t fully explain.

“First of all, I only sent him one text message to remind him to complete the group assignment. He never replied with any explanation. Maybe you don’t understand the difference between a reminder and coercion.”

“Second, it was just a group project—not a final exam, not a thesis. If he really cared, then I suggest he works harder on the next one.”

Yi Shouchuan was stunned for a moment. He hadn’t expected someone like Yi Fusang to say so much.

Under normal circumstances, he might’ve calmed down and thought it over. But right now, all he could think of was Baiyu’s pale, fragile face lying in that hospital bed.

Logic gave way to fury. Yi Fusang’s words became nothing but excuses in his ears.

“Oh? If you’re so innocent, then how do you explain the anonymous wall post attacking him?” He had even defended Yi Fusang, but this was the kind of person he was?

“…Do you have any proof I wrote it?” Yi Fusang asked calmly. Just now, he had still been able to analyze things rationally—but this? This was a completely fabricated accusation.

In today’s digital age, if someone like Yi Shouchuan really wanted to trace an IP address, it wouldn’t be difficult. He clearly wasn’t interested in the truth—just wanted to blame him.

To Yi Shouchuan, this only confirmed that he was guilty.

“Heh. Finally admitting it?”

“I’ll say it again—whatever you’ve made up in your head, it has nothing to do with me.” Yi Fusang was done wasting breath on someone who didn’t listen to reason.

His so-called older brothers all had one thing in common: they loved jumping to conclusions. No matter what you said, they’d interpret it their own way.

This time, Yi Shouchuan snapped. The rage turned into action. He grabbed Yi Fusang by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

Since Qi Xingwen left, Yi Fusang had gradually reverted to his old, dulled responses. Taken off guard, he really did get hit hard.

A dull thud echoed as his back hit the wall.

Yi Shouchuan hadn’t held back at all. As Yi Fusang slumped to the ground coughing and holding his neck, there was a momentary flash of clarity in Yi Shouchuan’s eyes—but it was quickly overtaken by disgust.

“I know what kind of person you are, Yi Fusang. Don’t think using tricks and manipulation will make me look at you any differently. You. Don’t. Deserve it.” He looked down coldly from above, voice filled with disdain.

When Yi Fusang had first come to the Yi house, he’d been a clingy little kid with a fake smile, always calling him “big brother.”

Yi Shouchuan had hated him since day one.

And Fang Baiyu… Fang Baiyu was pure, kind to the core. He had once risked his life to save him from a fire. That image had been branded into Yi Shouchuan’s heart ever since.

“You really are disgustingly selfish,” he sneered, and turned to leave.

The blankness in Yi Fusang’s brain slowly faded, replaced by growing pain.

Yi Chenglang had said something similar once. One called him “vicious,” the other “selfish”—both conclusions without logic or evidence.

It was like just disliking him gave them permission to hurt him however they liked.

So… logic didn’t matter, huh.

A sensation he had never felt before started to rise, like flames from his chest, burning through his limbs—as if something inside him was about to erupt and consume everything.

He barely managed to suppress it.

But the emotions had been ignited.

As he watched Yi Shouchuan’s back walking down the stairs, Yi Fusang suddenly lifted the corner of his lips and, in a raised voice, said something irrational, untimely, and guaranteed to get under the other man’s skin—

“Do you like him?”