Transmigrated as the Campus Heartthrob’s Cannon Fodder Ex-Boyfriend Chapter 72

Shoutout to Kari for the commission!

Because the studio kept expanding, Zhou Shirui simply moved into a new office.

After the renovations were completed, Le Cheng went to take a look as well.

The new office was larger, occupying two floors. Le Cheng mainly looked around Zhou Shirui’s office. The style was as minimalist as ever, with black, white, and gray tones.

But in this extremely austere-looking office, there was a soft beanbag sofa in one corner by the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was light green, like a round, plump, bright-green cat lying there taking an afternoon nap.

Le Cheng was very curious. He sat down and bounced on it a couple of times before asking in confusion, “Why is there a sofa here?” 

It was far too out of place.

Zhou Shirui looked at him and rubbed his face without saying anything. The answer was obvious.

But Le Cheng was still confused. He blinked at him. “Then why did you put a beanbag sofa here?”

There was nothing particularly special about this kind of sofa. The design was ordinary, cleaning it was of average difficulty, but it was especially soft and comfortable.

Zhou Shirui said, “Don’t you often say your butt hurts after sitting for too long?”

As though he were very delicate.

But that wasn’t actually the case. Sure enough, Le Cheng loudly protested, “Nonsense. That’s because you insist on going for so long…” Halfway through, his voice gradually became quieter. After stammering for a moment, he said without much confidence, “That’s why I said my butt hurt after sitting for too long…”

Zhou Shirui asked, with absolutely no sincerity, “Is that so?”

Le Cheng glared at him and stood up from the beanbag sofa.

It was almost as if they were secretly competing with each other. After that, whenever Le Cheng came to Zhou Shirui’s office, he stopped sitting on the beanbag chair.

There were plenty of other seats in the office anyway, most of them computer chairs. When Zhou Shirui was busy, Le Cheng would sit across from him. When Zhou Shirui wasn’t busy, Le Cheng would sit right beside him.

But this little stubborn standoff was soon broken.

After catching what could only be called an “honorable” cold, Le Cheng didn’t take it seriously. He was never proactive about taking medicine, dragging it out for many days without ever fully recovering.

Zhou Shirui took him out to eat one day and noticed that he kept blowing his nose. Thinking that he might have developed bronchitis, Zhou Shirui stopped by the hospital with him. After a round of examinations, they were told that it was only an ordinary cold. He had simply let it drag on for too long, and one injection would take care of it.

But this was no ordinary injection.

Le Cheng grabbed onto his pants, determined to defend the dignity of a twenty-one-year-old man who absolutely refused to get a shot in the butt. With a pained, pitiful expression, he tried to negotiate. “Do I really have to get the shot?”

Zhou Shirui: “Yes.”

Le Cheng tried again. “Then can I get an IV instead?”

The nurse standing nearby burst out laughing. “It hasn’t gotten that serious.”

And with that, Le Cheng immediately made a run for it, only to be forcibly caught and dragged back by Zhou Shirui, where he received a proper injection.

It had been a long time since Le Cheng had gotten this kind of shot, and he was extremely unhappy about it. Not only did his butt hurt, but his nose hurt from the cold too. So he decided that, for the next half hour, he wasn’t going to speak to Zhou Shirui.

Worried that Le Cheng would go home and eat whatever he wanted again, Zhou Shirui ignored his protests and simply took him back to the office.

As stubborn as ever, Le Cheng firmly sat down in a computer chair. But after sitting for a while, he started feeling uncomfortable all over. What people called a “butt shot” was actually injected about half a palm’s width below the hip bone. A computer chair, which followed the contours of the body, was hard as a rock against the injection site and made it ache.

From the corner of his eye, Zhou Shirui noticed that Le Cheng was constantly fidgeting. One moment he was twisting to the left, the next he was shifting to the right. After watching him struggle for quite a while, Zhou Shirui could no longer pretend not to notice and reached a hand toward him.

Le Cheng had nothing to do and had been slacking off the whole time. When he saw Zhou Shirui reach out, he instinctively started to speak. His mouth had already opened when he suddenly remembered his vow not to talk to him and quickly shut it again.

After a moment, he asked awkwardly, “What are you doing?”

“Come over. Let me take a look.” Zhou Shirui asked, “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Le Cheng said. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Although Le Cheng was reluctant with his words, his body was much more honest. He eagerly and quickly shuffled over. Zhou Shirui had him sit on his lap, facing him, then lifted the bottom of his shirt and looked at the injection site.

There was barely even a visible needle mark. Perhaps because Le Cheng hadn’t pressed on it properly, there was a faint bruise about the size of a fingernail. That was probably because Le Cheng had refused to let Zhou Shirui hold him in public while pressing on the injection site.

Zhou Shirui slowly rubbed the area for him.

The massage felt so comfortable that Le Cheng completely forgot about his vow not to speak to him. He even started ordering Zhou Shirui around, telling him to move a little lower and rub more gently.

Zhou Shirui did as he was told. He held Le Cheng in his arms while simultaneously using the computer to handle his work.

After being held and massaged for a while, Le Cheng started feeling a little warm. So he climbed down on his own and obediently settled into the beanbag chair.

At this point, there was no longer any question of who was being stubborn.

Once a “principle” is broken once, there will inevitably be countless more times. And so, the beanbag chair was officially and gloriously renamed Le Cheng’s personal sofa.

One day, Le Cheng was feeding cats downstairs from his apartment when his phone chimed. It was a message from Zhou Shirui.

[Didn’t Let Me Have Hot Pot Yesterday (-2 Points Version): Image]

Le Cheng tapped it open. It was a picture of that completely ordinary beanbag chair: round, with another round depression in the middle.

[The Least Grudge-Holding Person in the World: What’s wrong?]

[Didn’t Let Me Have Hot Pot Yesterday (-2 Version): You.]

[Didn’t Let Me Have Hot Pot Yesterday (-2 Version): Image]

This time, Zhou Shirui had edited the picture, circling the depression in the middle.

Combined with that single word, “you,” it took Le Cheng a long moment to understand what he meant.

Because it was his sofa, it could only have his traces left on it.

Zhou Shirui normally didn’t like taking pictures, but he genuinely loved taking these seemingly nonsensical photos that would look completely meaningless to outsiders, constantly recording all the little moments of Le Cheng appearing in his life.

They were all so ordinary and mundane.

So why did thinking about them make him feel so happy?

Le Cheng sent back a little puppy blowing a kiss, then changed Zhou Shirui’s contact name to [The Cutest Person in the World].

Ever since Zhou Shirui had moved to his new office, there were times when he was busy with work, and after Auntie finished making dinner, Le Cheng would pack it up and bring it to him.

Zhou Shirui felt that this was too much trouble for him, and after Le Cheng had brought dinner a few times, he stopped letting him come.

But Le Cheng refused.

Because he had discovered a long time ago that watching Zhou Shirui eat made him happy, just like Zhou Shirui was happy whenever he saw Le Cheng eat a few extra bites.

If Zhou Shirui had to work late for a meeting, Le Cheng would also keep him company for a while, just as he did at home. He would sit in the office and entertain himself while waiting for Zhou Shirui to come back.

Zhou Shirui didn’t stop him either. Worried that he would get bored, he left his work computer untouched but installed a bunch of games Le Cheng liked on the other two computers.

But Le Cheng didn’t play games every time. Sometimes he watched movies instead, and before long, he would get bored and fall asleep on his own.

When Zhou Shirui returned from his meeting, he would find Le Cheng obediently sprawled across the desk, with only half of his face visible. His dark lashes rested against his cheeks, and his lips were flushed from sleep.

He looked so well-behaved.

Zhou Shirui gently pinched his cheek, waking him up. Le Cheng opened his eyes groggily, and when he realized it was Zhou Shirui, his expression immediately brightened. Half of his collar had been knocked askew while he slept. “Are we getting off work?” he asked.

Zhou Shirui lowered his eyes and reached out to straighten his collar for him, nodding. “Yes.”

That was what normally happened.

But there were always times when they left work late.

The things on the desk were swept aside, and when Le Cheng was pressed against the desktop, he was still somewhat dazed.

Zhou Shirui’s gaze was calm and composed, as though he were about to do something perfectly serious. His slender, well-defined fingers reached into the drawer and took something out, then had Le Cheng bite down on it.

When Le Cheng got a good look, he immediately tried to scramble away with both his hands and feet.

But how could he possibly get away?

Zhou Shirui caught him by the ankle and pulled him back. Leaning close to his ear, he not only teased him but also traced his tongue with his fingers, calmly and seriously telling him, “Chengcheng, you have to keep your voice down. Otherwise, someone outside is going to hear.”

He said it as though he truly meant it.

Le Cheng’s head was completely dizzy and muddled, and he had even forgotten about Zhou Shirui’s particular bad habit in bed. He didn’t dare make a sound, only letting out quiet whimpers. From nervousness, the tip of his nose and the corners of his eyes were red, and he curled up tightly, requiring considerable effort to relax.

He looked both pitiful and adorable.

After everything was over, Le Cheng was wrapped up and taken to shower, and only then did he belatedly realize what had happened.

The entire building was dark, and the employees had long since left work. There was no one around at all.

So Le Cheng decided not to pay any more attention to Zhou Shirui. In the end, after being teased until he had no choice but to speak, he finally said hesitantly, “Then you’re not allowed to scare me anymore.”

Zhou Shirui agreed, and Le Cheng took the opportunity to push his luck. “And you have to throw away that entire box of stuff!”

He had thought Zhou Shirui would refuse, but unexpectedly, Zhou Shirui only thought about it for a moment before agreeing.

Le Cheng happily went over and kissed him twice. He really did not hold grudges at all.

But over the next few days, Le Cheng finally understood who was actually happy about not having that box of stuff around.

So, under Le Cheng’s strong recommendation, Zhou Shirui bought it again. He even specifically bought the orange flavor, saying it was Le Cheng’s favorite.

Le Cheng scolded him for being shameless while muttering under his breath, and for a long time afterward, he did not go to the office at night.

Now he was holding a grudge again.