Although Li Han had clearly stated that he did not want friends but the twins had translated it to "he did not want any other friends than them." so they stuck to him like glue.
They weren't even in the same class. Li Han was in class B and the twins were both in class but the difference never stopped them. The second the recess bell rang, two small figures would appear at his side like magic, one grabbing his left arm, the other his right, holding on tight as if letting go might make him disappear forever.
Even though Li Han spent most of his recess reading, it never bothered them and instead they just played around him.
Two full weeks had passed since the day they met and now the entire kindergarten simply referred to them as “the trio.” They were always together during breaks. More importantly, no one dared bully Yo Han or Yo Sun anymore unless they will face the wrath Li Han, the book hog (as they called him under their breath)
Today at recess followed the usual pattern.
“Fu Fu, why are you such a bookworm?” Yo Sun asked, resting his cheek against Li Han’s shoulder while peering curiously at the open pages. The book was about humpty Dumpty which Li Han found quite humorous.
“Stop calling me Fu Fu. My name is Li Han,” he corrected them again, his voice calm but firm.
“But you are our husband, Fu Fu,” Yo Han said from the other side, nodding with complete seriousness, as if he were simply stating that the sky is blue or that recess is the best part of the day.
Li Han sighed and rolled his eyes before focusing back on his picture book. He has corrected them a handful of times but it seemed futile and they were very adamant on calling him their husband which embarrassed him, especially when they did it in front of the other students.
He tried to focus back on his book but the twins made it impossible. Almost like the twins felt him getting distracted, Suddenly he felt tiny fingers pinch both his cheeks at the same time.
"Ouch! Why did you pinch my cheeks?" he yelped, rubbing his sore cheeks.
"You're so cuuuute Fu Fu" the twins chorused, their big dark-blue eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.
The annoyance in Li Han’s chest fizzled away like a bubble popping. He shook his head slowly, lips twitching even though he refused to let himself smile.
The twins went right back to their pretend game—something about being brave pirate explorers searching for hidden treasure— while treating Li Han like their favorite resting spot. He sat there quietly, book open but mostly unread, letting them cling, chatter, and fill the air around him with noise.
When the final bell rang, Li Han walked home the same way he always did. His house wasn’t far, it just three short streets away, past the big banyan tree and the street vendor who sold sweet red bean buns in the afternoons. He liked the walk. It gave him time to think about the stories he’d read and to plan which book he might choose tomorrow.
At home he slipped off his shoes neatly by the door, went straight to the bathroom for his bath, and changed into his favorite soft blue pajamas printed with little white anchors. Then he sat at the low table in his room, opened his workbook, and began practicing his characters with slow, careful strokes.
His mother peeked in, smiling softly.
“My clever, hardworking son,” she said, gently smoothing his still-damp hair. “Always doing your best.”
Li Han’s cheeks turned pink. He ducked his head, pretending the character for “sea” required all his concentration.
When the smell of dinner drifted through the house—steamed fish with ginger, fluffy white rice, and crisp stir-fried greens—his father arrived home.
Huang Xiaoming wasn’t a frightening man. Far from it. He worked long, exhausting hours at the office. Sometimes the fatigue from work clung to him like damp clothes, making his voice come out sharper than he intended and his face look heavy. But he had never once raised a hand to his wife or his son.
In his own quiet, worn-out way, he loved them deeply.
“Welcome back, Father,” Li Han said softly as he sat down cross-legged on the mat.
Xiaoming gave a small nod, loosening the collar of his work shirt. “How was school today?”
“It was good, Father.”
They ate in their usual quiet. The only sounds were the gentle clink of chopsticks against bowls and the soft rhythm of chewing. It wasn’t a tense silence, just the peaceful silence of a family that didn’t always need many words.
When Xiaoming finished, he murmured his thanks to his wife, leaned over, and pressed a quick, tender kiss to her cheek. Then he rose and headed to take his shower.
Li Han finished soon after. He helped carry the empty bowls to the kitchen, then returned to his room. He picked up the humpty Dumpty book again, curled up on his futon beneath the warm glow of the little bedside lamp, and read until his eyelids grew too heavy to keep open.