Chapter 43: Really Like Cheng Ge
Cheng Ge quickly washed his hands under the tap behind the rock, wiped them dry directly on his clothes, took Wen Ling’s phone, and pointed out the route on the map. “You follow this small path, then turn here, then turn right and you’re downstairs…”
Cheng Ge’s mouth rattled off like a machine gun, finishing twenty seconds of instructions in ten seconds. But when he looked up…
Motherf*cker.
He found Wen Ling staring at his face, somewhat entranced. He didn’t know if he had listened to a single word.
Cheng Ge: “…”
He had never been so speechless in his life, both anxious and helpless.
“Forget it, run you to death.” Cheng Ge was truly exasperated. Resigning himself to fate, he grabbed Wen Ling’s hand and rushed toward the teaching building, running with the speed of a sports student.
“Which classroom?” Approaching the teaching building, Cheng Ge asked against the wind.
Wen Ling panted, not fully recovered, but he remembered the classroom clearly. “602.”
“Holy…” Cheng Ge grabbed the person and started running again. They still had to run up six floors. This little lunatic really had a big heart.
A few seconds before the class bell rang, Cheng Ge pushed Wen Ling into the classroom. If he hadn’t been out of strength, he would have really wanted to kick Wen Ling in.
Through the window, Wen Ling watched Cheng Ge’s fleeting back, then unhurriedly sat in the empty area of the first row.
The teacher began the lecture and didn’t take attendance. Cheng Ge probably ran for nothing.
Wen Ling reached out to touch his heart. His heartbeat was still so fast.
Apart from running too urgently just now, there must be other factors. It definitely had to do with Cheng Ge.
At first, he had just spaced out for a moment.
Thinking about why Cheng Ge’s nose bridge looked higher and his eyes deeper under the sunlight.
Wen Ling watched Cheng Ge’s mouth opening and closing, not hearing what he said, only feeling that the shape of Cheng Ge’s lips seemed to look even better.
Then those lips pressed into a straight line. Wen Ling saw Cheng Ge frown, and immediately after, he was pulled by the hand by Cheng Ge and started running.
It was very sudden, but he wasn’t repulsed at all; he was even very delighted. Cheng Ge’s grip was tight, and the wind rushing into his nose carried a refreshing light mint scent mixed with the smell of dusk—probably the smell of sunlight.
That was a scent unique to Cheng Ge, and that feeling could only be created by Cheng Ge.
His heartbeat became uncontrollable under such circumstances.
Wen Ling touched his chest. There was a voice in his heart: I really like Cheng Ge. Especially like him. Like him the most.
[Really speechless. Shouldn’t have bothered with him. Ran until I’m all sweaty.] Cheng Ge kicked two pebbles by the lake, complaining to 001.
001: [Then why did Host help?]
[Wasn’t I afraid he’d fail the course!] Speaking of this, Cheng Ge was speechless. [Say, how come he isn’t afraid of being late at all? He’ll have plenty to cry about when he fails.]
One had to know, Cheng Ge used to be a good student who was never late or absent, terrified of accidentally failing.
Although that was impossible.
001: […He probably won’t cry.]
[And logically speaking, Wen Ling won’t fail. His usual assignment scores plus exam grades are already enough to pass.]
Cheng Ge kicked another small pebble along the lake. [Are Wen Ling’s grades good?]
[Full marks or close to full marks.]
So awesome!? Cheng Ge raised an eyebrow slightly. Could it be that heaven opened this window for Wen Ling?
001: [Good news.]
[Wen Ling’s conquest value increased by 2%. Current conquest value: 76%.]
Cheng Ge felt strange. Out of nowhere, why did Wen Ling’s conquest value rise? Did he only now realize he should thank him for the life-and-death speed assistance just now? His reflex arc was too long, right!?
But an increase in conquest value was a good thing, another unexpected harvest.
It seemed his initial decision was correct; expanding the map was the way to better increase the conquest value.
After venting his complaints, Cheng Ge walked along the winding path back to the dorm.
Wen Ling watched Cheng Ge’s location arrive at the dorm before putting away his phone. He took out a small sheet of sketch paper and began to draw.
This session was a theory class. He had already flipped through the content of the book seven or eight times when he had nothing to do.
From finding it interesting due to unfamiliarity at the start, to now finding it extremely boring because he knew it by heart.
Wen Ling liked drawing. It was the only thing he could grasp and integrate into. Also because of drawing, he could earn money and survive.
The pointer pointed to six o’clock sharp. The dismissal bell rang. Wen Ling finished the order just in time, clipped the drawing paper into the protective frame, looked up to massage his sore neck, packed his things, and left the classroom.
Wen Ling checked the phone positioning. Cheng Ge was still in the dorm. Just as he exited the app, he received a message from Cheng Ge.
Cheng Ge: “Are you eating at the cafeteria or ordering takeout?”
Wen Ling typed: “Eating at the cafeteria.” He wanted to eat with Cheng Ge.
Cheng Ge: “Then go directly to the cafeteria, I’ll be there in a moment.”
Wen Ling replied “Okay,” then suddenly remembered he hadn’t eaten the Bingtanghulu (candied hawthorn stick) Ji Ji gave him. Ji Ji had reminded him it would melt if left too long.
So he sent another message to Cheng Ge: “Cheng Ge, please help bring the Bingtanghulu on my desk to me.”
Cheng Ge: “Oh.”
Wen Ling entered the cafeteria alone. Not only were there many people, but it was also noisy. This seemed to be the second time he entered the cafeteria alone. He tried once in his freshman year, decided he didn’t like it, and had ordered takeout or skipped meals ever since.
Last night Cheng Ge bought him sushi, dessert soup, and a small cake. Wen Ling liked them all. He felt he should also buy some food Cheng Ge liked.
When Cheng Ge went through the medicine chest to apply medicine for Wen Ling at noon, he had noticed the Bingtanghulu. For no other reason than it seemed incongruous; Wen Ling didn’t look like someone who would buy such a thing.
Cheng Ge changed his clothes and knocked three times on the door of the neighboring dorm. The one who opened the door was still Bed No. 1 from yesterday. “It’s you? Looking for Wen Ling? He hasn’t come back yet.”
“Oh, no, I came to get the Bingtanghulu for him.”
Bed No. 1 nodded understandingly and said with a grin, “Wait a moment, I’ll get it for you.”
Cheng Ge took the Bingtanghulu, said thanks, and walked toward the cafeteria. He thought Wen Ling seemed to get along quite well with his roommates; Cheng Ge had assumed Wen Ling’s relationship with his roommates was the distant and unfamiliar kind.
His phone suddenly rang a few times. Cheng Ge took out his phone to look, then looked a few more times, his head full of question marks.
Wen Ling: “Do you like eating udon noodles? Or cart noodles?”
Wen Ling: “Do you like eating Jianbing Guozi (savory crepe)?”
Wen Ling: “What about fried chicken? Honey chicken?”
Wen Ling: “Small wontons?”
Wen Ling was still sending messages.
Cheng Ge looked at the messages and reacted for a few seconds, guessing Wen Ling was thinking about what to eat later, so he also thought for a moment and replied one by one.
Mostly “Quite like,” “It’s okay,” “Feels not bad.”
Only when Wen Ling stopped sending messages did he put away his phone and continue walking to the cafeteria, his pace unknowingly quickening.
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