Transmigrated as the Campus Heartthrob’s Cannon Fodder Ex-Boyfriend Chapter 67

Shoutout to Kari for the commission!

Zhou Shirui had an excellent physique, with broad shoulders and long legs, relaxed limbs, and clearly defined, attractive muscle lines. He was exactly the type Le Cheng liked most, the kind who was muscular without a shirt but looked slim when dressed.

Now that his dream had truly come true and he had his very own personal “anatomical model,” Le Cheng naturally had to put him to use. Whenever he couldn’t quite get the perspective of a figure right, he would go looking for Zhou Shirui.

“This perspective is way too tricky.” Le Cheng carried his tablet into the living room and immediately pulled Zhou Shirui, who was relaxing, over. “Help me pose. I want to see if this part is right.”

Zhou Shirui put down his phone and posed according to his request. After observing him for a moment, Le Cheng immediately understood. He was extremely pleased. Having a real-life model really was different. Being able to observe him up close from 365 degrees was effortless.

After looking enough, he scampered back to the study to draw. He was still wearing his posture corrector, because his posture habits weren’t very good. To completely correct them and protect his lower back, Zhou Shirui required him to wear it at least five days a week.

After drawing for who knew how long, Le Cheng finally looked up from the computer. Zhou Shirui entered the study carrying a glass of water for him. Le Cheng drank it all, then showed him the gorgeous piece he had just finished.

When it came to drawing, Le Cheng was someone who was “aware of his own beauty.” Every time he created something he was satisfied with, he would excitedly show Zhou Shirui. And Zhou Shirui, despite being a computer science student who fit the stereotypical image of someone quiet and taciturn, would provide plenty of emotional support at times like this. He would praise everything from the lighting and shadows to the structure, then the colors and composition.

His wording was precise, his tone calm, and never exaggerated. Le Cheng was praised until he was absolutely delighted, but he couldn’t help becoming curious.

“How do you know so much? And you’re so professional at it too. And it feels like… you’re getting more and more professional?”

Zhou Shirui said casually, “I found some time to study a little about this.”

Le Cheng was shocked, and even touched. He was so moved that he wanted to learn some programming-related knowledge too, but he quickly gave up after only two nights.

He was very dejected, but the course was just too boring. After ten minutes, it made him sleepy; after twenty minutes, he was completely lost; by thirty minutes, he was already sleeping soundly.

Zhou Shirui comforted him, saying that if he wasn’t interested, then he didn’t need to learn it.

“But that seems kind of unfair to you.” Le Cheng lay on top of him, his ear against his chest, looking dejected as he said, “You even learned some things about drawing because of me.”

“If that’s what you’re worried about.” Zhou Shirui pursed his lips slightly. “Then you have even less reason to learn.”

Le Cheng was puzzled. “Why?”

“What I learned is only some theoretical knowledge. I didn’t delve into how things are actually created.” Zhou Shirui stroked his hair. “Calling it knowledge isn’t entirely accurate. It just helps me understand and appreciate a painting better. It’s very simple, and it’s enjoyable.”

“So, correspondingly, as long as you can play the games I make and accurately tell me how you feel about them.” Zhou Shirui continued slowly, “Besides, you have a very sharp understanding of a game’s core mechanics, gameplay, and visuals, while I only know the basics of drawing.”

After having his fur smoothed down like this, Le Cheng immediately regained his confidence. He thought about it. “That actually makes a lot of sense…”

Zhou Shirui raised his lips. “Do you still feel guilty?”

“Not anymore.” Le Cheng thought about it, then said seriously, “But it’s already really impressive that you know all those random bits of knowledge about drawing. You know that, right?”

Zhou Shirui lowered his gaze to his bright, dewy eyes and nodded. “Okay. I know.”

Le Cheng took advantage of the situation and reached forward to pinch his face. “Good boy.”

Zhou Shirui patted his butt. “Go close the course materials.”

Le Cheng immediately hopped out of bed and happily closed the video, leaving it to gather dust on his computer.

And as the “anatomical model,” Zhou Shirui naturally wasn’t only responsible for posing.

Sometimes when Le Cheng was drawing, he would get lazy and simply raise his own hand to see how a particular hand position might look better when drawn.

He himself wasn’t short, and he had good proportions, with long, slender limbs and correspondingly well-shaped fingers. His nails were neat and rounded. His hands were slender and refined enough to serve as hand-model material, so whenever he was drawing hands, his own were the best reference.

But there were occasional shortcomings.

His hands could satisfy the requirements for the hands of most characters, but when he encountered special commissions where the client requested things like “extreme sexual tension,” “sexy,” or visible veins, his hands would silently withdraw from the scene.

At times like that, Le Cheng would turn his attention to Zhou Shirui.

“Okay, give me your hand now.” Le Cheng found a little stool and sat across from Zhou Shirui. Their hands were completely different. Because of Zhou Shirui’s frequent exercise and naturally larger bone structure, his fingers were straight and long, with clearly defined joints. His fingertips had a slight layer of calluses, his palms were broad, and faint blue veins stood out across the backs of his hands.

Le Cheng held his hand and moved it back and forth, occasionally bending it into a particular position. He would also ask Zhou Shirui to apply force so that he could observe the actual movement of the muscles and veins.

Zhou Shirui held out one hand while using his other hand to look at something on his phone. Suddenly, there was a faint “ding.” Then he heard Le Cheng softly say, “Kiss kiss.”

Zhou Shirui turned his face at the sound. He had thought Le Cheng was being affectionate, but discovered that the person saying “kiss kiss” hadn’t even looked up. His long eyelashes were lowered as he held Zhou Shirui’s hand, then raised his own hand and very childishly made his ring “kiss” Zhou Shirui’s ring.

One wasn’t enough. With another “ding,” Le Cheng bumped them together again. “Kiss kiss.”

Zhou Shirui found the sight so amusing that he wanted to laugh. The corners of his lips lifted slightly. Le Cheng noticed his gaze and wasn’t very pleased. “Are you secretly laughing at me?”

“No,” Zhou Shirui said.

“I don’t believe you,” Le Cheng accused him. “You can’t even keep the corners of your mouth from turning up, and you still say you’re not.”

Zhou Shirui suddenly reached out, grabbed the back of his neck, leaned over, and lightly bit his lips. His voice was low, lingering beside Le Cheng’s ear. “Kiss kiss.”

After being bitten once, Le Cheng was released. He touched his lips and said, completely unapologetically despite having no grounds to do so, “Ahem… Why are you seducing me while I’m working?”

Zhou Shirui used his other hand to pinch Le Cheng’s face into a little duck bill, his voice relaxed as he asked, “Who’s seducing whom?”

Le Cheng slapped his hand away, pretended he hadn’t heard, and continued working seriously.

After thoroughly studying the feeling he wanted, Little Le Cheng, who secretly possessed the attributes of a hardworking perfectionist, waved his sleeves and ran off without the slightest attachment.

This sort of thing happened more than a few times. Zhou Shirui showed little expression. When Le Cheng happily ran back later to show him his finished work, Zhou Shirui would praise it before finally getting to the point and asking calmly, “So what should you say now?”

Le Cheng pretended not to understand. “Hmm?”

Le Cheng stood between his legs, wearing loose pajamas. Zhou Shirui restrained his waist with one hand while using the other to lift the hem, his slightly rough fingertips brushing against Le Cheng’s delicate skin and sending a tingling sensation through him.

Le Cheng was both ticklish and numb, his waist going completely soft. Before long, his face flushed as he leaned close to Zhou Shirui’s ear and whispered in surrender, “…Thank you, big brother.”

Only then did Zhou Shirui lift his eyelids with evident satisfaction. His palm moved along Le Cheng’s smooth back for a moment before withdrawing to straighten his clothes. He nodded. “Mm.”

This was their little “transaction” between the two of them. Le Cheng often acted cheeky and tried to get out of saying it, but Zhou Shirui was petty too. He would silently keep track of how many times Le Cheng had skipped it and make him say it back in bed.

A man with a good memory was truly terrifying.

Ever since they officially started dating, Le Cheng actually cared less about updating the couple-related content on his account. He still drew the meals he had promised everyone, but whenever inspiration struck, what he most enjoyed drawing was making chibi versions of the two of them and creating four-panel comics to record amusing things from their daily lives.

Unexpectedly, those four-panel comics became somewhat popular, allowing him to quickly reach beyond his original audience. With the double boost of being a popular game illustrator and a couple-comic creator, Le Cheng’s Douyin followers soon surpassed two million.

This caught Le Cheng completely off guard. At the same time, he was very happy. It was just that sometimes, when his actual work became busy, he didn’t have time to maintain his Douyin account, and fans in the comments section would often be left eagerly waiting for new content.

Le Cheng didn’t check the comments very often. What he hadn’t expected was that Zhou Shirui paid even more attention to them than he did, although he never said anything about it.

It was only once, when Le Cheng happened to walk past him, that he discovered Zhou Shirui was very seriously reading the comments beneath one of his four-panel comics.

Le Cheng found it fascinating and deliberately asked him, “What are you looking at?”

Zhou Shirui said, “Looking at the comics you drew.”

“Oh…” Le Cheng wanted to laugh. “Are they good?”

“Good.” Zhou Shirui paused before adding, “The comments are good too.”

Le Cheng hadn’t expected him to admit it and agreed. “I think what they say is pretty funny too.”

Zhou Shirui was still looking down at the comments. Le Cheng casually glanced over and discovered that Zhou Shirui was scrolling through them with a completely indifferent expression, liking the comments that praised him and disliking the ones that picked faults.

The contrast was ridiculously cute.

Le Cheng wanted to laugh, but held it in and quietly slipped away.

Although Zhou Shirui was technically Le Cheng’s exclusive “live model,” Le Cheng would only seek him out when Zhou Shirui was free.

Because when Zhou Shirui got busy, he got extremely busy, to the point where he could barely sleep properly. There was nothing Le Cheng could do to help him, so he tried his best not to disturb him, relying on himself instead. He found inspiration from videos and material libraries, and for the perspective of some more difficult poses, he would adjust them himself using specialized software. It was a little troublesome, but it still worked.

It just wasn’t ideal either. After he searched for too many reference materials on Douyin, the algorithm decided he was purely interested in lewd content and started aggressively pushing videos of muscular hunks at him.

The muscular hunks did have pretty impressive muscles, but Little Le Cheng remained firm in his resolve and clicked “Not interested,” wanting only to look at figure drawings done by fellow artists.

Zhou Shirui’s busy periods could last for a month. Le Cheng searched for references every day, and his account was practically trained by the algorithm. Then, when Zhou Shirui finally got some time off, the two of them happened to be sitting on the sofa one day, each doing their own thing. Le Cheng came across a video of a cute, fluffy animal and excitedly leaned over to share it with him.

“This is so cute.” Le Cheng’s eyes lit up. “No, no, I can’t keep watching, or I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

As he spoke, he scrolled down, and a highly detailed figure reference by a master of anatomy suddenly popped up.

Le Cheng still didn’t realize anything was wrong. He scrolled down a little more, and immediately afterward, another streamer showing off his muscles in a suggestive way appeared.

Le Cheng: !

He became flustered. “I already clicked ‘Not interested’ a long time ago. Why are there still more?”

Only after clicking “Not interested” did Le Cheng secretly raise his eyes. Sure enough, Zhou Shirui was looking at him calmly, his expression unreadable.

“You have to believe me!” Le Cheng quickly defended his innocence. “I only got these because the algorithm recommended them while I was looking for references. Blame the algorithm, not me!”

Zhou Shirui said nothing.

Le Cheng scrolled through ten more videos for him. There really weren’t any more of those kinds of videos, so he grabbed Zhou Shirui’s forearm and chattered, “See? There really isn’t anyone else. I only like looking at you. I’m innocent!”

The way he tilted his face up anxiously to explain himself made him look like a little sparrow hopping around in a panic, flapping its wings frantically.

Zhou Shirui wasn’t actually jealous. He couldn’t help curling his lips slightly. “I know.”

Only then did Le Cheng relax. After a while, having completely failed to learn his lesson, he leaned over again and pointed at the screen. “Does this look like you?”

On the screen was a very handsome Czechoslovakian Wolfdog, growling lowly as it fought over territory. Zhou Shirui lowered his eyes and glanced at it.

Before he could answer, Le Cheng muttered to himself, “The way you looked at me just now was exactly this sharp…”

“Mm.” Le Cheng nodded in self-agreement. “You must have a dog’s natural instincts too.”

He had even started asking and answering his own questions.

After saying that, he glanced at Zhou Shirui again. Zhou Shirui didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out, touched his cheek, and then looked back at the tablet.

Le Cheng settled down and continued watching the video. When he got tired from sitting, he stretched.

Zhou Shiru: “A cat stretching.”

Le Cheng: “?”

His movements stopped. He looked at Zhou Shirui suspiciously, but the other person didn’t even raise his eyes, as though there really were just a cat stretching on the tablet and he was merely repeating what he saw.

After hesitating for a moment, Le Cheng went back to doing his own thing. Feeling thirsty, he picked up the cup beside him and took a sip of water.

Zhou Shiru: “A puppy drinking water.”

Le Cheng: “???”

Le Cheng could no longer remain calm. Once he realized what was happening, he really wanted to laugh.

Le Cheng leaned over, resting his head against Zhou Shirui’s chest, and deliberately drew out his words as he poked him. “Zhou Shirui, you’re so childish.”

Zhou Shirui pretended to be indifferent. “What? I’m not allowed to imitate the way you talk?”

Le Cheng had no real grounds to argue with that. After struggling for a while, he said, “Then we’re a perfect match made by nature!”

They were both fluffy creatures!

He didn’t know what had pleased Zhou Shirui this time either. After a pause, Zhou Shirui said calmly, “That’s inevitable.”

Le Cheng’s heart warmed.

Sometimes, he would think that Zhou Shirui was actually only a year older than him. He was just in his early twenties, yet in their relationship, he took on the role of the protector, carrying a steadiness and calmness that seemed beyond his age. That occasional childishness and bickering were especially precious.

Le Cheng pushed the tablet aside, straddled Zhou Shirui, wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed his lips.

Le Cheng: “Big brother, it’s perfectly fine to be a little childish.”

Le Cheng: “I’ll love you no matter what.”

Le Cheng: “I like you.”

Le Cheng: “I love you.”

Le Cheng: “I love you so much.”