Shoutout to Kari for the commission!
Le Cheng immediately didn’t dare move anymore.
That “Chengcheng” made his face burn. It seemed like a name that shouldn’t be touched. Unlike the gentle, lingering tenderness when it had appeared before, this time it carried a restrained heaviness, as though a storm were about to break.
The hand gripping his ankle was long and strong, with the veins clearly visible. Zhou Shirui stared straight at him, his gaze naked and dangerous, making Le Cheng feel like a small animal being held by the scruff of the neck. He unconsciously held his breath. Although the grip hurt a little, he didn’t dare make a sound.
Zhou Shirui closed his eyes. The sensation in his hand was like the finest silk, smooth and soft, with the delicate feeling of slender bones beneath. He paused for several seconds before pressing his lips together. “Sit properly.”
Le Cheng lowered his lashes. “Oh…”
He obediently sat there, feeling both awkward and embarrassed. His entire body was burning hot as Zhou Shirui hooked his index finger around the shirt clip, bending it slightly to separate the fabric from his skin. His fingernail lightly grazed against it, sending tiny tremors through that small patch of skin.
Zhou Shirui kept his eyes lowered, moving quickly. “Lift your foot.”
“Okay…” Le Cheng did as he was told.
The shirt clip, which looked like a black leg band, was completely removed. Zhou Shirui casually tossed it aside, and his gaze inadvertently dropped to the ankle he had held earlier, where there was now a faint red mark.
His brows furrowed slightly.
“Huh?” Feeling his ankle being held again, Le Cheng was confused. “W-what’s wrong?”
Zhou Shirui lowered his head. “It’s red.”
The baseball cap concealed his expression, and Le Cheng couldn’t see his face from that angle. He instinctively tried to pull his foot back, but couldn’t. He hurriedly stammered, “Mm… it’s fine. It’ll fade soon.”
Zhou Shirui still didn’t move. Only after a few seconds did he let go and raise his eyes. “Change your clothes.”
“Okay.” There wasn’t much time left, and now that he finally didn’t have to be so close to him, Le Cheng practically jumped to his feet. Zhou Shirui held the shirt out to him. Le Cheng blinked lightly, turned around, and quickly took off his shirt with his back facing Zhou Shirui.
It was already an extremely quick movement, clearly revealing its owner’s flustered state. Zhou Shirui lowered his gaze, yet still inevitably saw Le Cheng’s fair, delicate back. Its lines were smooth and beautiful, gradually narrowing downward, with two round dimples at his lower back, as though they had been tailor-made for thumbs to sink into.
His breathing unconsciously grew heavier.
Le Cheng was completely unaware. Everything happening was already making his brain feel as though it were about to evaporate, as if he were being roasted by intense heat. His lashes trembled as he casually wiped away the fruit juice that hadn’t yet dried with a tissue. Then he quickly slipped on the shirt and fastened the most important buttons first. Zhou Shirui handed him the pants.
“Six minutes left.” Zhou Shirui’s voice was slightly hoarse. “There’s enough time.”
“Okay.” Le Cheng nodded and put on the pants. His two long, fair legs were completely covered, giving him a small sense of security. Zhou Shirui stepped closer, holding the tie and lowering his eyes slightly, his long fingers deftly moving around Le Cheng’s neck.
The suddenly shortened distance made Le Cheng pause slightly. Before he could react, he heard Zhou Shirui say quietly, “Fasten your belt.”
“Oh, okay.” Le Cheng was a beat slow. As he fastened his belt, Zhou Shirui had already tied his tie for him. Holding him by the shoulders, Zhou Shirui guided him in front of the full-length mirror in the changing room. His calm gaze carried an indescribable emotion as he looked directly into Le Cheng’s eyes in the mirror, his pupils dark and deep. “Are you satisfied?”
His breath lightly brushed past the tip of Le Cheng’s ear, slowly drifting downward, as though it were about to slip inside his collar.
The tie was tied beautifully and neatly. Zhou Shirui stood behind him with his head slightly lowered. His frame was larger. Le Cheng had a normal, somewhat slender build for a man, yet it felt as though Zhou Shirui completely enveloped him in his arms.
“Mm, s-satisfied.” Le Cheng nodded.
“Good.” Zhou Shirui stepped back slightly. “Put on your jacket.”
That long hand held it out before him again. Le Cheng hurriedly put it on. Only after he was fully dressed did his overheated rationality gradually return, and he belatedly realized…
What exactly had he kicked just now?
That had been Zhou Shirui’s leg. He probably hadn’t… hadn’t kicked anywhere important, right?
Le Cheng couldn’t help sneaking a glance. Zhou Shirui was wearing black casual pants. Against the completely black fabric, nothing could be seen. He comforted himself: if he had really kicked him somewhere badly, Zhou Shirui probably wouldn’t have that expression right now.
The more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he became. It had been a long time since Le Cheng had felt this way in front of Zhou Shirui. His heart pounded wildly. Besides embarrassment, there was something else too, but it was too faint for him to distinguish.
“Then I’ll go?” Le Cheng picked up the script that had fallen to the floor. “My clothes, you…”
“I’ll take them to the dry cleaners for you.” Zhou Shirui asked, “Is that okay?”
“Okay.” Le Cheng nodded. Then he turned to look at Zhou Shirui. The other man was taking off his cap with one hand and pushing his hair back. Only then did Le Cheng realize that Zhou Shirui’s hair was a little messy, and that he hadn’t worn his glasses because he hadn’t had time.
Something stirred in his heart. Le Cheng walked over to him again and said seriously, “Zhou Shirui… thank you.”
Zhou Shirui didn’t move. He merely lowered his eyes slightly, his gaze falling on Le Cheng’s soft, rosy lips, full and lustrous. “Mm.”
He said, “You’re welcome.”
Le Cheng smiled. His brows and eyes immediately curved into a beautiful arc, like a little hook, bright and captivating. Zhou Shirui’s Adam’s apple moved in restrained fashion. He reached out and pinched Le Cheng’s cheek, his dark eyes firmly capturing the face before him as he said in a low voice, “Remember to come to me next time, good boy.”
The spot that had been pinched seemed as though it had been scorched by fire. Zhou Shirui’s tone was neither particularly expressive nor anything more than calm, yet Le Cheng’s heart suddenly began pounding. He froze for two seconds before saying, “Then, I, I’ll go?”
“Go on.” Only then did Zhou Shirui withdraw his hand. “Don’t be nervous.”
“Mm.” Le Cheng felt that if he stayed any longer, he might forget his lines when he went onstage. He hurriedly clutched his script and quickly left the room.
There were three minutes left before he had to go onstage. His female co-host was looking for him. “Le Cheng, Le Cheng!”
“Where were you?” The girl caught her breath. “I thought you’d run off.”
“I didn’t. Something came up.” Le Cheng nodded at her. “Shall we go?”
“Mm.”
Although he was still a little nervous, the hosting went smoothly. Le Cheng didn’t see Zhou Shirui in the audience. After it ended, he took out his phone.
[Client Senior Zhou: The clothes have already been taken to the dry cleaners.]
[Client Senior Zhou: Are you done speaking?]
Le Cheng stared at the messages for two seconds before turning off his screen.
Tan Xiaobai and He Ziqing had come backstage, noisily calling out, “Le Cheng, let’s go! The event’s over, why are you still sitting here?”
“Ah.” Le Cheng responded, gathered his things, and followed them.
After returning to the dorm, Le Cheng took a shower first.
The sticky fruit juice clinging to his body had been extremely uncomfortable. Le Cheng let his mind go blank, but when his gaze landed on the body wash, he suddenly paused.
Peach-scented.
Did Zhou Shirui like this scent?
The conversation they hadn’t finished last time seemed to reappear before his eyes. Le Cheng paused for a moment, then hurriedly squeezed some into his palm, secretly wondering why he was thinking about that question again, and quickly rinsed himself clean.
After coming out feeling completely refreshed, Tan Xiaobai pulled one side of his headphones off and looked at him. “Le Cheng, someone’s been constantly messaging you.”
“Mm?” Le Cheng walked over to his desk and picked up his phone. When he saw Zhou Shirui’s name, his heart involuntarily gave a little jump.
[Client Senior Zhou: What are you doing?]
[Client Senior Zhou: You should be done by now.]
[Client Senior Zhou: Still not done?]
[Client Senior Zhou: Are you taking a shower?]
[Client Senior Zhou: Why aren’t you replying?]
Le Cheng turned off the screen, then turned it back on.
Then turned it off again, and back on.
No.
Suppressing his embarrassment, he typed:
[Orange: I just finished showering. I’m going to get ready to draw.]
“Ding-dong, ”
[Client Senior Zhou: Okay.]
Le Cheng looked at that “Okay” and turned off his phone again.
He wasn’t going to draw. He had lied.
Lying on his bed, Le Cheng closed his eyes and slowly buried his face into the soft quilt. The tips of his fair ears gradually turned red.
So embarrassing.
The moment he saw Zhou Shirui’s name, it was as though some kind of switch had been triggered. Everything that had just happened began replaying over and over in his mind, Zhou Shirui’s fingers, his voice, his breath, his warmth. All of it carried a strange feeling, filling his head and gripping his heart, making him afraid to see Zhou Shirui.
It was too embarrassing.
Le Cheng thought so. It had to be because it was too embarrassing.
He had lived for nearly twenty years, and yet he had just had someone help him take off his shirt stays and get dressed as though he were being taken care of like a little baby. He must have been traumatized by it, that was why he was reacting so strongly and feeling so embarrassed.
Le Cheng rubbed against the quilt with great certainty.
That was definitely it.
So right now, he absolutely didn’t want to reply to Zhou Shirui’s messages. The moment he saw that name, he couldn’t control himself from blushing.
This stress reaction was way too exaggerated. Le Cheng frowned worriedly beneath the covers and reached out to pinch his own cheek.
“Good boy.”
A voice suddenly intruded into his mind, like some automatically triggered program. Le Cheng abruptly shuddered and hurriedly patted his face.
He really might have gone crazy. Otherwise, how could he remember every single detail so clearly?
“Le Cheng.” Tan Xiaobai called to him from below the bed. “Why did you climb onto your bed? I downloaded a fun game.”
“Mm?” Le Cheng poked his head out. “What game?”
“I don’t know. I found it in a group chat.” Tan Xiaobai said this, then his gaze fell on Le Cheng’s face, and he looked a little surprised. “Why is your face so red? What are you doing? Are you sick?”
“No.” Le Cheng jumped off the bed. “I’m not… It’s just too hot under the covers. I’m not sick.”
“As long as you’re not sick.” Tan Xiaobai said. “Look at this game, it seems pretty interesting… Want to play online together?”
“Sure. Send me the file.”
“Is Ziqing joining?”
He Ziqing waved his hand. “I don’t like playing games.”
“Then you’re really missing out on a masterpiece this time!” Tan Xiaobai said with a laugh. “Le Cheng, hurry up and turn on your computer. Let’s play.”
“Okay.”
For the next two days, Le Cheng stayed cooped up in the dorm.
Whenever he and Tan Xiaobai had classes, they went to class. Whenever they didn’t, they stayed in the dorm playing games. It was a fairly simple puzzle-solving and level-clearing game with a Lovecraftian art style, but it was surprisingly addictive. Before long, they had reached the final playthrough.
The stress reaction Le Cheng had developed toward Zhou Shirui finally eased somewhat over those two days. During that time, he deliberately avoided contacting Zhou Shirui. When Zhou Shirui asked him out, he politely declined. Now, when he saw Zhou Shirui’s messages, he finally no longer blushed.
“F*ck, why is this last level so hard?”
Tan Xiaobai raged helplessly. They searched online but couldn’t find a walkthrough for the game. Rather than saying there was no walkthrough, it was more accurate to say that the game didn’t even have a name. Even the numbers on the startup screen were random, so they couldn’t find anything when they searched.
Le Cheng comforted him. “It’s fine. It’s the last level anyway. It’s normal to get stuck for a while.”
“Bzz, bzz, bzz, ”
His phone vibrated. It was a call.
Without looking at the name, Le Cheng casually answered it with a “Hello.” The other person didn’t say anything. He pulled the phone away and glanced at the screen, only then realizing it was Zhou Shirui.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Le Cheng asked calmly. Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard Zhou Shirui’s voice in two days either.
“Busy?” Zhou Shirui asked.
“No, I’m playing a game.” Le Cheng realized that he might really be better now. Hearing Zhou Shirui’s voice no longer triggered that reaction. “What are you doing? Why did you call me?”
“Can’t I call?” Zhou Shirui’s voice was low.
“Huh?” Le Cheng was confused for a second. “You can.”
“Want to come out for dinner?” Zhou Shirui asked.
“Sure.” Le Cheng checked the time. “But it’s still too early.”
“Half an hour from now,” Zhou Shirui said. “You should pick up your clothes.”
Le Cheng had almost forgotten about that. He immediately said, “Okay, let’s go pick up the clothes together.”
Zhou Shirui paused on the other end of the call. “Have you been busy lately?”
Le Cheng answered instinctively, “Not really.”
“Not busy,” Zhou Shirui said flatly. “Then why haven’t you been replying to my messages?”
Le Cheng had been hit right where it hurt, but he couldn’t explain himself. He couldn’t exactly say, I haven’t been replying because whenever I think of you, I blush and my heart starts racing, right?
His skin wasn’t that thick.
Le Cheng said, “The last two days, I was busy. I’m not busy now.”
“Is that so?” Zhou Shirui asked.
“Yeah.” Le Cheng felt a little guilty. Just as he was about to add something, Tan Xiaobai suddenly shouted beside him, “I figured it out! Le Cheng, at this step, we need to lure the monster over to the moon and let the moon eat it. Then there’ll be a key!”
“What?” Le Cheng’s attention was immediately drawn away. He quickly coordinated with Tan Xiaobai, luring the monster over, and successfully obtained the key.
“Playing a game?” Zhou Shirui asked from the other end.
“Mm.” Le Cheng was being chased by the monster and was a little nervous, so he didn’t have time to hang up. “Xiaobai, hurry over here.”
Tan Xiaobai’s character quickly ran over. After they worked together to open the door, a cutscene suddenly appeared on the screen.
“Huh?” Le Cheng was surprised. “Did we clear it?”
“I think so,” Tan Xiaobai said. “Let’s watch the cutscene.”
The animation was quite simple, mainly explaining the mystery behind the entire story. As the background music abruptly stopped, the screen shook twice and suddenly went black.
Le Cheng said, “That ending was actually pretty good.”
He picked up his phone, just about to say something, when the entire black screen suddenly seemed to have some kind of visual effect added to it. It began twisting and flickering. The screen jumped back to the main interface, and suddenly, one of the characters from earlier fell down from the “sky.”
Then another.
Then two more.
Very quickly, they filled half the screen, squeezing some of his files until they disappeared.
Le Cheng was stunned for a moment before finding his voice again. “Did we… get a virus?”
Tan Xiaobai looked solemn.
“…I think so.”
“What kind of f*cked-up game is this?” Tan Xiaobai tried to salvage the situation.
Le Cheng moved the mouse and discovered that he couldn’t control anything at all. He could only watch as his programs and files were “eaten.” Instinctively, he called out, “Zhou Shirui!”
“Mm?” Zhou Shirui, who hadn’t said anything the whole time, finally answered somewhat lazily. “What?”
“After we cleared that game just now, Xiaobai’s and my computers suddenly stopped responding. I think we got a virus.” Le Cheng had a headache. “What’s going on?”
“Maybe clearing the game was the trigger for the virus,” Zhou Shirui said. “Where did you download the game from?”
“A group chat,” Le Cheng answered honestly. “I don’t even know what group.”
“Someone’s probably bored,” Zhou Shirui said calmly. “They like pulling pranks like this.”
“Where’s that computer repair place at our school again?” Tan Xiaobai fiddled with his computer for a while. “Eh? Le Cheng, you…”
Tan Xiaobai revealed a mischievous smile and silently mouthed: Isn’t Zhou Shirui a computer genius? Fixing a computer shouldn’t be a problem for him, right?
Before Le Cheng could answer, Zhou Shirui had already spoken. “Bring them over. Let me take a look.”
“Huh? Sure.” Le Cheng readily agreed, then paused. “What about my roommate’s…”
“Bring that one too.”
“Okay!” Le Cheng was delighted. Then he heard Zhou Shirui say over the phone, “Carry the computers downstairs now.”
“Okay.” Le Cheng hurriedly closed his laptop. “Wait for me to find a bag.”
After hanging up, Le Cheng carried two laptop bags downstairs.
Zhou Shirui was looking down at his phone. Hearing the movement, he looked up.
Le Cheng walked over to him. They had only gone two days without seeing each other, but somehow, it felt like much longer.
“How long have you been waiting?” Le Cheng asked.
“Not long.” Zhou Shirui reached out to take the laptop bags from him, effortlessly carrying both. “Where are we going first?”
“Let’s put the computers in your dorm first.” Le Cheng thought for a moment. “Will they take a long time to fix?”
“No.” Zhou Shirui said. “It should be a very simple virus.”
“Okay.” Le Cheng was relieved.
They went out for a meal, picked up his clothes, and then slowly strolled back.
Le Cheng was feeling a little conflicted.
He looked up and secretly glanced at Zhou Shirui before finally gathering the courage to ask, “Um… Zhou Shirui, your home is so close to the school. Why do you still live in the dorms?”
He wanted to test Zhou Shirui’s attitude first.
Having not seen Zhou Shirui for the past two days, he had thought about quite a lot as well.
He couldn’t keep dragging this out. He had already figured out Zhou Shirui’s attitude, it was just as he had imagined. Zhou Shirui regarded him as a friend.
There was nothing left to hesitate about.
Although things had long since deviated from the original plot, he still wanted to try and see what Zhou Shirui’s reaction would be if he brought up living together.
“Mm?” Zhou Shirui responded.
He lowered his eyes, his long lashes falling. “Why are you asking that?”
“I just want to know.” Le Cheng said. “Answer me already.”
“It’s too quiet living alone,” Zhou Shirui answered.
“Huh?” Le Cheng froze for a moment. Given Zhou Shirui’s personality, he had thought Zhou Shirui would be the type to enjoy quiet.
After all, he knew that although Zhou Shirui lived in a four-person dorm, Cheng Yufei was his only roommate.
“I thought you didn’t like noise,” Le Cheng said.
“I don’t like noise.” Zhou Shirui looked at him. “But I don’t like it being too quiet either.”
Rather than disliking quietness, it was more that he disliked returning to an empty house.
Le Cheng understood and nodded. “Oh…”
Zhou Shirui observed his reaction. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Le Cheng shook his head. His speech suddenly became a little hesitant. “Zhou Shirui, have you ever thought about, um… moving out and living with someone else?”
Zhou Shirui stopped walking. “With whom?”
Le Cheng paused. “With… with someone. This person is fictional.”
“There’s no specific person,” Zhou Shirui said. “I can’t imagine it.”
Le Cheng grew anxious. Why was Zhou Shirui like this? He couldn’t help blurting out, “Then imagine that person as me!”
Zhou Shirui suddenly fell silent.
Le Cheng met his eyes for several seconds. Zhou Shirui’s gaze was too focused, making it a little hard for him to breathe. He slightly looked away… was that a sign that he was unwilling?
Something stirred in his heart, but he quickly brushed it aside and deliberately said in a relaxed tone, “Ah, if you can’t imagine it, then forget it…”
“Okay,” Zhou Shirui said.
“What?”
“If that person is you.” Zhou Shirui stared intently at him. “Then I can.”
Le Cheng was slightly stunned. “Really?”
“Mm,” Zhou Shirui answered.
Le Cheng lowered his eyes. Unable to help himself, he looked up at Zhou Shirui again.
He couldn’t tell whether Zhou Shirui was telling the truth or simply saying something comforting.
Because Zhou Shirui often seemed to take all the blame upon himself just to comfort him.
Looking at Zhou Shirui, Le Cheng suddenly couldn’t bear it.
He couldn’t bear to keep deceiving him.
This relationship that had been wrong from the very beginning, this wrong start.
“Let’s… let’s go.” Le Cheng stumbled over his words, his voice very soft. “…I want to go back to the dorm.”
Zhou Shirui’s gaze dropped onto the side of Le Cheng’s face.
Something was wrong. He didn’t look happy. Zhou Shirui pressed his lips together. Had he been too eager? Had he answered too quickly?
It wasn’t his imagination. Ever since that day when they returned from the changing room, Le Cheng’s attitude had become somewhat distant.
Had he scared Le Cheng by making himself seem too eager?
Zhou Shirui gave a quiet “Mm.” “Le Cheng.”
Le Cheng turned back. “What is it?”
“I…” It was difficult to explain. Zhou Shirui frowned slightly, but in the end, he only said, “Let’s go.”
Le Cheng nodded.
***
After returning to the dorm, Le Cheng had no computer, and drawing on his tablet felt uncomfortable. He was bored, so he simply decided to watch a movie on it.
In the quiet of the night, of course, it was time for something exciting, a horror movie!
Le Cheng put in his earphones, burrowed under the covers, and chose a found-footage film. The horror was doubled, and so was the sense of realism.
They had been watching for less than twenty minutes, and just as the atmosphere was gradually getting good, there was suddenly a “ding-dong” in his headphones.
Le Cheng jumped in fright. Looking down, he saw that Zhou Shirui had asked him if he was watching a movie.
?
[Orange: How did you know?]
[Client Senior Zhou: I saw it.]
Le Cheng suddenly felt a chill run down his back. Slowly turning his head, he warily looked around.
[Client Senior Zhou: You logged into my account.]
Le Cheng hurriedly exited and saw that nickname, “Z.”
Le Cheng: “.”
[Orange: Then why did you scare me!!]
[Orange: Line Puppy Angry.jpg]
[Client Senior Zhou: Then do you want to watch it with me?]
Eh?
The video app had a watch-together function, and Le Cheng was tempted. With two people watching, it was always a little less scary.
[Orange: Okay!]
[Orange: I’ll invite you!]
He invited Zhou Shirui to join the watch-together function, and the screen changed to look like a movie theater. There was even a little box on the side where they could send bullet comments to each other.
Because the voice chat connected automatically, Le Cheng said “Hello, hello” twice.
“Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you.” Zhou Shirui’s voice sounded.
Le Cheng was satisfied. “Are you watching on your tablet?”
“Mm.”
“Good, then.” Le Cheng said, “I can’t be the only one seeing such an exciting big screen!”
The movie quickly reached its first climax. Two team members had already died. Le Cheng curled up under the blanket, listening to the quiet sound of breathing from the other end of the microphone, and suddenly, he didn’t feel quite so scared anymore.
“Zhou Shirui,” he called softly.
“Mm?”
“It’s nothing.” Le Cheng said. “Are you scared?”
Zhou Shirui didn’t answer him. Instead, he asked, “Are you scared?”
“Me?” Le Cheng’s male pride kicked in, and he immediately perked up. “Me? Of course I’m not scared!”
On the other end of the call, Zhou Shirui seemed to laugh very softly. “Is that so?”
Le Cheng pretended not to hear him.
“Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz…”
The suddenly ringing phone made Le Cheng freeze for a moment. On the other end of the call, Zhou Shirui had already answered it.
So it wasn’t from the movie.
Le Cheng continued watching the movie intently. Zhou Shirui didn’t avoid the call either, and both voices entered his ears together.
It sounded like a faint female voice, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“No need.” Zhou Shirui’s voice was very cold and indifferent. “Mm, everything’s fine.”
“Okay.”
“There’s no need.” Zhou Shirui said. “Don’t worry.”
“Mm.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Beep…” The call was disconnected.
Le Cheng was a little curious and casually asked, “Who was that?” Why did Zhou Shirui seem a little unhappy?
Zhou Shirui: “My mom.”
“…Oh, Auntie.” Le Cheng vaguely remembered such a person. Zhou Shirui’s mother should be abroad.
“Mm.” Zhou Shirui didn’t hide it. “She recently came back to the country to meet some clients.”
So, she probably wanted to meet Zhou Shirui, right? Le Cheng guessed as much, but since Zhou Shirui didn’t say anything, he didn’t ask.
Le Cheng recalled the plot of the original novel.
When Father Zhou and Mother Zhou first separated, their marriage had already existed in name only. At first, Mother Zhou had taken Zhou Shirui to live with her for a period of time, but Mother Zhou was simply too busy, and taking care of a child was too troublesome. Zhou Shirui had only been six years old at the time, and Mother Zhou was busy starting her business and simply couldn’t spare the time for him, so in the end, she still sent him back to the Zhou family.
After being abandoned, Zhou Shirui’s feelings toward Mother Zhou had always been complicated.
She hadn’t directly caused him any harm, but she had indirectly led to a great deal of harm.
Le Cheng was silent for a while before he still couldn’t help asking, “Zhou Shirui.”
“Mm?”
He wanted to ask Zhou Shirui whether, when he thought back on it now, he would still feel sad. But for some reason, he clearly knew that Zhou Shirui wouldn’t anymore.
Everyone grew up, and Zhou Shirui had grown up exceptionally quickly.
But perhaps his ability to empathize was too strong. He felt a little sad for the Zhou Shirui of childhood.
Le Cheng suddenly asked, “Do you have any candy there?”
“Mm?” Zhou Shirui said. “I do.”
Le Cheng said, “Eat one.”
Zhou Shirui paused for a moment. “Okay.”
There was the sound of a candy wrapper being unwrapped, then the candy touching his teeth. Le Cheng asked, “Is it sweet?”
Zhou Shirui: “Sweet.”
“That’s good.” Le Cheng said softly. “Sweet and sweet.”
He said, “I hope you can always be sweet.”
Zhou Shirui paused for a moment before asking, “Always be sweet?”
“Yeah.” Le Cheng said quietly. “I hope you can always be happy, always sweet.”
His tone was very serious. “This is the wish I made today, Zhou Shirui.”
Zhou Shirui didn’t say anything.
“Okay.” After a moment, he finally heard him speak, his voice very soft. “……I’ll make it come true.”
***
After a movie ended, Le Cheng exited the app, got up to brush his teeth, then lay back down.
He was having a little trouble falling asleep.
There was something weighing heavily on his mind, and the movie had been too scary. The moment he closed his eyes, the scenes would appear before him.
Le Cheng tossed and turned. After lying in bed for twenty minutes without successfully falling asleep, he simply got up and watched some cartoons to ease his fear.
“Ding-dong.”
Le Cheng picked up his phone. The faint bluish glow of the screen gently fell across the side of his face, casting a small shadow beneath his eyelashes.
[Client Senior Zhou: Are you asleep?]
Le Cheng hesitated as he typed.
[Orange: No.]
A message popped up. It was a voice message.
Le Cheng put on his headphones and tapped it open. Zhou Shirui’s voice was very low and calm. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”
For some reason, Le Cheng’s face grew warm as he listened. Such a magnetic, deep voice.
In the quiet of the night, Le Cheng suddenly remembered that he hadn’t logged out of his account. Zhou Shirui had probably seen that he was watching cartoons.
Still stubbornly refusing to admit it, Le Cheng replied: [No.]
[Client Senior Zhou: Then why are you watching cartoons?]
[Orange: Fine… I really am having a little trouble sleeping.]
Le Cheng poked at the screen.
[Orange: Why aren’t you asleep either?]
[Orange: Staying up so late, you’re not being a good student.]
He turned the tables on him, and before Zhou Shirui could reply, he added:
[Orange: I’m going to punish you on behalf of the teacher.]
[Client Senior Zhou: Punish me with what?]
[Orange: Punish you… by making you tell me a story!]
After the message was sent, it took a while before the other side replied.
Another voice message.
“Hmm?” Zhou Shirui’s voice was very low. “What do you want to hear?”
Le Cheng’s ears felt a little tingly as he listened.
[Orange: I want to hear… Little Red Riding Hood.] He wanted to hear something childish.
“Ding-dong, ”
A voice message.
Le Cheng tapped it open. Zhou Shirui sounded as though he was smiling. “You’re scared but still won’t admit it, and now you want to hear Little Red Riding Hood.” After a pause, his voice lowered. “Cheng Cheng, are you a little baby?”
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