Exiled!? Ha! I have An Infinite Space-Chapter 112 -

Han Fuji did not look back after leaving Bai Ming.

His steps were steady as he walked through the narrow path, his expression calm, but his eyes carried something deeper, something that had not settled since what happened earlier.

The farther he moved away from the shelter, the quieter it became.

The noise of people faded.

The air grew still.

After a short distance, he turned into a covered corner hidden between two old structures, a place most people would not notice unless they were looking carefully.

A carriage was already waiting there.

It was simple on the outside, nothing that would attract attention, but the horse was well kept, and the man holding the reins stood straight the moment Han Fuji appeared.

Han Fuji stepped forward without slowing down.

The door of the carriage was opened immediately from inside.

He entered.

Inside, two men were already waiting.

The moment he stepped in, both of them lowered their heads.

"Master."

Han Fuji sat down without responding to the greeting.

The space inside the carriage was quiet, the air heavy with restraint.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Han Fuji said,

"There are some men you need to deal with."

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

The two men did not ask unnecessary questions.

One of them spoke,

"Who are they?"

Han Fuji leaned back slightly.

"They are usually around the shelter area," he said. "Rough clothes, loud mouths, and they move in groups."

His eyes darkened slightly.

"One of them has a scar near his left brow," he added. "Another limps slightly when he walks."

The man listened carefully, taking in every detail.

"We will find them," he said.

Han Fuji’s gaze did not shift.

"When you do," he said, "do not bring them back."

There was a brief pause.

The meaning was clear.

The man lowered his head slightly.

"What should be done with them?" he asked.

Han Fuji’s expression did not change.

"Kill them," he said.

No hesitation or emotion.

Just a decision.

The man nodded once.

"It will be done."

Without wasting another moment, he pushed the carriage door open and stepped out, disappearing quickly to carry out the order.

Silence returned inside.

Only one man remained.

He sat across from Han Fuji, his posture straight, his head slightly lowered.

After a moment, he spoke.

"Master, where to?"

Han Fuji closed his eyes briefly, as if putting everything back into place.

Then he said,

"Back to the mansion."

The man nodded immediately.

"Yes, Master."

Outside, the reins were pulled.

The horse moved.

The carriage rolled forward smoothly, leaving the quiet corner behind as if nothing had happened there at all.

Inside, Han Fuji remained still.

His expression had returned to calm.

But the cold in his eyes had not disappeared.

....

By the time the courtyard had quieted, everyone had already gone inside.

The lamps were lit, and the house slowly settled into the calm of the evening.

Inside one of the rooms, Fu Teng sat by the table with a brush in his hand, writing steadily on the paper in front of him. His posture was straight, and his expression remained calm, as if nothing outside could disturb his focus.

The door suddenly opened.

Without a knock.

Fu Tong stepped in.

Fu Teng’s hand paused slightly, and his brows drew together.

"You should knock," he said.

His tone was not loud, but it carried clear disapproval.

Fu Tong waved it off as he walked further in.

"I forgot," he said casually, as if it did not matter.

Fu Teng did not respond to that. He lowered his gaze again and continued writing, the brush moving smoothly across the paper.

Fu Tong did not sit.

He stood there, watching him for a moment before speaking again.

"Did you hear what sister-in-law and brother said?" he asked.

Fu Teng did not look up.

"What?" he asked calmly.

"They were talking to father and mother earlier," Fu Tong said. "About us."

The brush in Fu Teng’s hand slowed slightly.

But he did not stop.

Fu Tong continued,

"They said they are going to arrange marriages for us within three days."

This time—

The brush paused completely.

A faint mark formed on the paper where the ink rested too long.

But Fu Teng did not react immediately.

After a brief moment, he moved his hand again and continued writing, as if nothing had changed.

"I heard," he said.

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

Fu Tong frowned slightly.

"You heard?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"And you are just sitting here like this?" Fu Tong asked, his tone rising slightly.

Fu Teng finished the last stroke and placed the brush down carefully.

Only then did he lift his head.

"What should I do?" he asked.

Fu Tong stared at him.

"What do you mean what should you do?" he said. "This is about marriage."

Fu Teng’s expression did not change.

"I know," he replied.

Fu Tong walked closer.

"Then what do you think about it?" he asked.

There was a brief silence.

Fu Teng looked at him.

Then he said,

"It is not a bad decision."

Fu Tong blinked.

"Not a bad decision?" he repeated.

"Yes."

Fu Tong frowned deeper.

"You do not even know who you are going to marry," he said.

Fu Teng held his gaze.

"And neither do you," he replied.

"That is not the point," Fu Tong said immediately.

"Then what is the point?" Fu Teng asked.

Fu Tong opened his mouth—

Then paused.

For a moment, he did not have an answer.

Fu Teng continued calmly,

"We are not in a place where we can choose freely."

His voice remained steady.

"This is not the capital," he added. "Things are different here."

Fu Tong clenched his jaw slightly.

"I know that," he said. "But this is still too sudden."

Fu Teng nodded once.

"It is sudden," he agreed.

"But it is also necessary."

Fu Tong looked at him.

"You really think so?" he asked.

Fu Teng did not hesitate.

"Yes."

There was a brief pause.

Then Fu Tong asked,

"What if the person is not good?"

Fu Teng’s gaze lowered slightly.

Then he said,

"Then we deal with it."

Fu Tong let out a breath.

"You make it sound too simple," he said.

"It is not simple," Fu Teng replied.

"But avoiding it will not make it easier."

Silence fell between them.

Fu Tong looked at him carefully.

"You have already accepted it," he said.

It was not a question.

Fu Teng did not deny it.

"I have accepted the situation," he said.

Fu Tong stared at him for a moment longer.

Then he asked quietly,

"...Do you not have anyone in mind?"

For the first time—

Fu Teng did not answer immediately.

His eyes shifted slightly, as if something passed through his thoughts.

Then he said,

"No."

His voice returned to calm but something about it did not feel completely true.

Fu Tong watched him.

But he did not press further.

Instead, he clicked his tongue lightly and turned away.

"This is too sudden.. I don’t want to marry someone like grandma.. I wonder how grandpa survived living with her all these years," he muttered again.

Fu Teng did not respond.

He picked up the paper he had been writing and looked at it quietly.

Fu Teng looked at Fu Tong for a moment, then spoke calmly,

"You have better things to think about."

Fu Tong blinked.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Fu Teng stepped away from the table and straightened his sleeve before continuing,

"You should be thinking about how to make money," he said. "Not standing here asking questions that will not change anything."

Fu Tong scratched the back of his head and let out an awkward laugh.

"You make it sound easy," he said. "I am not like you, and I am not as capable as elder brother. I do not even know where to start."

Fu Teng looked at him.

"That is why you should start thinking," he replied.

Fu Tong opened his mouth, but before he could say anything else, Fu Teng walked forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him toward the door.

"Go," he said.

Fu Tong resisted slightly.

"Wait, wait," he said quickly. "I am not done talking."

Fu Teng did not stop.

"You can continue after you figure something out," he said as he pushed him forward.

Fu Tong stumbled a little as he tried to keep his balance.

"That is not fair," he said. "I just came in."

"You have stayed long enough," Fu Teng replied calmly.

Fu Tong frowned.

"I have not even asked you about your day," he said. "How was work? And that An Yu... what kind of person is he?"

For a brief moment—

Fu Teng’s hand paused slightly.

But it was only for a second.

Then he continued pushing him toward the door.

"It was fine," he said. "There is nothing to talk about."

"That is all?" Fu Tong asked, clearly unsatisfied. "You left early in the morning and came back like nothing happened, and you are telling me it was just fine?"

Fu Teng opened the door.

"Yes," he said simply.

Fu Tong was pushed out halfway.

"This is too suspicious," he muttered. "You are hiding something."

Fu Teng did not respond.

He pushed him the rest of the way out.

"Go and think about what I said," he said.

Fu Tong tried one last time.

"At least tell me if he is difficult to deal with," he said. "That An Yu—" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

The door closed.

Right in front of him.

Fu Tong stood there, staring at the door.

"...Unbelievable," he muttered.

Inside the room, Fu Teng stood still for a moment.

The silence returned.

He let out a slow breath.

Then he turned and walked back toward the table.

His gaze fell on the paper he had been writing earlier.

The ink mark had spread slightly.

He stared at it for a moment.

Then he sat down again.

But this time—

He did not pick up the brush.