Time travel (1/2)
The atmosphere in the office was unusually tense.
The three PhD students stood frozen in place like wooden statues, not even daring to exchange glances.
Inside the room, Gu Yilan’s younger brother’s shoulders trembled slightly, as if he were crying from unbearable humiliation.
Cold handcuffs were locked tightly around the boy’s wrists, chaining him securely to the railing—like a pet kept in captivity, only to be used at the whim of someone with an overwhelming sense of possession. It was twisted beyond words.
Half-eaten chips still sat on the office desk. It was as if… just a second ago, the boy had been happily snacking on chips and doing his homework, and the next second, the entire scene had taken a dark, perverse turn—dragged off in chains, choked by the neck, and then forcibly…
Damn. What a sin.
The office scene froze like a still painting.
In the end, it was Gu Yilan who broke the silence first. He frowned and said coldly, “What are you all standing at the door for?”
No one dared to answer. They quickly lowered their heads and stared at the floor, afraid he might kill them on the spot.
“Stop crying,” Gu Yilan said, turning to the boy. His tone softened just slightly. “Next time you hear the door open, it’ll be me coming back.”
With that, he walked out of the office, not caring about the stunned expressions on his classmates’ faces or Gong Chuang’s pale, ashen look. As soon as Gong Chuang shuffled out behind him, Gu Yilan closed the door and swiped his ID card to activate the highest level security lock.
He gave a passing glance at the scattered reports on the floor and the three soul-drained figures, but didn’t bother asking what they had come to him for. Instead, he pulled out his phone, checked his schedule, and walked toward the elevator at the end of the hall.
Gong Chuang was the first to recover and hurriedly followed after him.
The remaining three people turned their heads in unison, like triplets, stiff-necked and wide-eyed, watching the two walk away.
They saw their usually laid-back senior, Senior Gong, lower his head and mutter with deep remorse, “Sorry, man… I really screwed up…”
It was obvious: Senior Gong had done something to Senior Gu’s younger brother, and Senior Gu was furious. To assert dominance, he had done something even more shocking to his own brother—right in front of Gong.
What exactly he did… they couldn’t let themselves imagine. They didn’t dare.
After a long pause, one finally asked through gritted teeth, “Senior Gu’s brother… is he actually just a brother?”
Both Gu Yilan and Gong Chuang had entered A University’s elite PhD track straight out of high school, handpicked for their extraordinary talent. Later, they both achieved remarkable academic success—in other words, geniuses among geniuses.
The academic circles, especially in math and physics, were full of genius worship. They viewed these prodigies through a lens of idealization so intense, it had eighteen layers.
Now, all those filters had shattered to pieces.
Along with their moral boundaries.
Just a door away, inside the office, Su Zesui rubbed his face.
Through his fingers, he had seen the shock on those strangers’ faces. He figured it was probably because he cried too hard and embarrassed Mr. Gu.
He had tear incontinence—sometimes he wasn’t even that scared or sad, but the moment he raised a hand, he’d find his cheeks soaked with uncontrollable tears.
He regretted it a little. Reaching into his blue backpack, he pulled out his voice recorder.
Gu Yilan had given it to him, but hadn’t forced him to record his schedule anymore. So now Su Zesui could record whatever he wanted.
Since Gu Yilan had left, the office door had been knocked on a few times. Some gave up when no one answered. Others, like Gong Chuang, tried turning the doorknob. But no one ever made it in.
Every time he saw the handle turn, Su Zesui would feel both scared and expectant. Afraid a stranger would get in, and hoping Mr. Gu would come back soon.
Thankfully, the strong physical presence of the handcuffs made him feel safe—so much so that the feeling of anticipation always won out.
But once Mr. Gu stepped outside, he was no longer his Mr. Gu alone. All sorts of people wanted to see him, talk to him, consult him. He didn’t even have time to chat with his own classmates.
Around noon, just as Su Zesui was rubbing his grumbling stomach, he heard the beep of an ID card swiping at the door.
“Hungry?” Gu Yilan walked in with two takeout boxes and casually shut the door behind him.
“Hungry.” Su Zesui’s eyes lit up at the sight of the food in his hands. He sat up straight and licked his lips in anticipation. Even while preparing to eat, he didn’t forget to hand over the voice recorder.
Gu Yilan took it naturally and pulled out a few wet wipes. “Wipe your hands.”
Obediently, Su Zesui cleaned his hands, unpacked the takeout, picked up his chopsticks, and gave the man a look that clearly said: Start the recorder.
“How long did you cry after I left?” Gu Yilan asked, watching his eyes closely.
“I didn’t… didn’t cry,” Su Zesui said, then pointed at the recorder again.
“Mm, good boy.” Gu Yilan casually pulled over a spare chair and sat down beside the boy, then turned on the voice recorder.
From the recording came the boy’s hesitant voice—
“Actually, I have a little secret…”
Gu Yilan’s hand paused as he was unpacking the takeout, his brow furrowing instinctively as he stared seriously at the recorder.
That opening reminded him strangely of the last time Su Zesui told him about being bullied by classmates. He worried the boy might suddenly drop some big revelation again.
“I actually cried in front of lots of your classmates, wuwuwu, so embarrassing, a ba a ba. I didn’t mean to, but I still embarrassed you, wuwuwu.”
Su Zesui had prepared his script in advance, practicing it over and over until he could say the tongue-twisting lines smoothly.
Without the recorder, he probably would never have been able to express himself so fluently in his life.
“You’re the best person in the world, my favorite person. Please don’t be mad.”
Su Zesui couldn’t read social cues or understand the emotional undercurrents between people, so he had no idea which of the Ahoo methods actually worked and which didn’t.
So this recording was basically a mishmash of tactics: sharing a secret, cute filler words, sincere compliments…
Listening to it, Gu Yilan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. He turned off the recorder and said calmly, “I’m not mad.”
“R-Really?” Su Zesui stood up, tilting his little face as he tried to read the man’s expression.
Gu Yilan turned his head to give him a clear look and said helplessly, “When have you ever seen me get angry?”
Su Zesui breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down.
That’s right—Mr. Gu had a really good temper, never getting angry or losing control over anything.
“So, what about them?” Su Zesui asked again.
Gu Yilan thought of the juniors whose faces basically screamed: “You’re that kind of person? The two of you together? That’s scandalous, disgraceful, unthinkable, SOS.”
Having grown up surrounded by rumors and gossip, he really didn’t care much about what others thought of him. When faced with such misunderstandings, he felt no emotional ripple inside and couldn’t be bothered to explain even a single word.
But now, instead of telling the truth, he spoke to the boy with a slightly harsh tone: “Fine. Later, come with me to clear things up with them.”
Su Zesui nearly choked, barely able to finish chewing his meat before shaking his head vigorously.
Gu Yilan took a half step back: “Clear it up with Gong Chuang.”
Su Zesui shook his head again, though less vigorously.
“There’ll be a reward,” Gu Yilan said smoothly, using reinforcement techniques to help the boy improve his social skills. “What do you want?”
Su Zesui finally stopped shaking his head. Chewing on the sweet and sour pork, he thought carefully for a long time before saying, “I want you to kiss me.”
This time, Gu Yilan put down his chopsticks.
He frowned at the boy’s pure, innocent face, hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Where did you learn that?”
He thought the boy would say “from a novel,” but Su Zesui quietly replied, “You said it.”
Gu Yilan’s brow furrowed even tighter.
There was no way he had mentioned anything like that to Su Zesui; he never talked in his sleep either. But the pure boy obviously wasn’t lying… so what was going on?
In the end, Gu Yilan said first, “I can’t kiss you. Choose something else.”
Su Zesui frowned in dissatisfaction, then thought again and wished aloud, “I want endless potato chips.”
Gu Yilan: …
After some careful consideration, Gu Yilan said, “Alright, on Friday I’ll hold a simple wedding ceremony for you. You’ll get to see your family then, as well as my parents.”
Su Zesui poked at the rice in his bowl with his chopsticks and muttered a gloomy, “Oh.”
He guessed he must have made a terrible wish, otherwise Mr. Gu wouldn’t have taken away the original reward and replaced it with a big punishment.
After lunch, Gu Yilan cleaned the table and gave the boy a few instructions before leaving the office again.
The chain on Su Zesui’s wrist was long enough for him to move freely around the office. He took a nap on the bed in the nearby rest room, then got up to do some homework. Before long, the door opened again.
Gong Chuang followed Gu Yilan in, skipping formalities and getting straight to the point: “Sorry, Su Zesui.”
Su Zesui was taken aback.
He had never encountered such a sincere apology before. He jumped down from his chair, nervously fiddling with his fingers, and stammered back, “S-Sorry.”
Gong Chuang: …?
Gu Yilan glanced at Gong Chuang, then walked over and gently patted the boy’s back, reminding him, “Relax your muscles and take a deep breath.”
Gong Chuang seemed to be put on pause. After Gu Yilan soothed the boy, he resumed: “I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have entered without your permission, nor should I have given you something you can’t eat.”
Having offended Gu Yilan, Gong Chuang was willing to become a mumbling robot to make amends.
Su Zesui had never seen this before and looked at Gu Yilan for help.
“What should you say?” Gu Yilan asked him instead.
Su Zesui racked his brain, regretting not having carefully read “Detailed Explanation on the Causes and Treatment of Severe Social Anxiety” earlier. His mind was completely blank now.
Gong Chuang was used to being ignored by these two. He just treated it as a break—no talking, no eye contact pressure.
He watched patiently as Gu Yilan patiently guided the boy, who finally managed to blurt out, “It’s okay, it’s what I should do.”
Seeing Gu Yilan’s helpless expression, Gong Chuang’s lips twitched, nearly bursting out laughing.
In his lifetime, he never thought he’d see Gu Yilan frustrated by something.
This trip was totally worth it.
“No need to thank me. Brother didn’t take it to heart either.” Gong Chuang mimicked the boy’s speech pattern in a jumbled way but quickly changed his tone when he caught Gu Yilan’s icy gaze, urgently adding, “Hope you don’t take it to heart either.”
Su Zesui nodded politely, then looked back at Gu Yilan.
…That should do it.
Very polite, very complete social interaction. Just like in cartoons.
“Want to add me on WeChat? Easier to keep in touch,” Gong Chuang teased playfully.
Noticing the boy’s questioning look directed at him, Gu Yilan said, “Its okay, add him.”
Su Zesui shrank behind Gu Yilan, grabbed the phone on the table, opened WeChat, stretched out his arm to scan Gong Chuang’s QR code, then quickly withdrew his hand, hiding behind the man as he quietly sent the friend request.
Gong Chuang: …
Thanks, first time I’ve ever been so rejected. Strange feeling.