Chapter 7
A warm breeze drifted from the end of the dormitory corridor.
Wen Rong’s bangs were swept back, revealing skin that still bore the faint, rosy flush from an hour under the sun.
Click.
He opened the door to his room like a dancer making a high-profile entrance, ready to perform a solo in a space that finally belonged to him.
—A pungent odor assaulted his nostrils.
The white bedding was stained a shocking blood-red.
Thick liquid dripped from the corners of the quilt, spreading onto the desk.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely, the breeze circling the room before blowing back onto his frozen face.
Wen Rong’s eyes lowered slightly, his eyelashes casting long shadows.
The wind carried the news into the distance. A group of returning students pinched their noses as they approached. “What’s that smell? It stinks.”
“Holy shit, did the Special Recruit kill someone?”
“Idiot, that’s paint.”
Just then, the teacher with the mustache was leading workers upstairs to do repairs for other students. Smelling the fumes, he assumed some art student had accidentally knocked over a paint bucket. But when he walked over and saw Wen Rong, his mustache practically flew off his face. “What happened to your bed?”
Wen Rong’s body remained stiff. After several seconds, his head dropped listlessly. “Teacher, someone poured paint on my bed.”
“So annoying. You cause trouble for me every single day. Why did you pour paint on your own bed?”
Wen Rong thought about what he had just said, confirmed he hadn’t misspoken, and repeated, “Teacher, someone poured paint on my bed.”
“Impossible!” The mustachioed teacher’s voice grew louder. “Who has the time to pour paint on your bed? You Special Recruits always play the victim whenever you cause a mess. In reality, you’re the worst of the lot.”
“We—”
The mustache cut him off. “With so many students in the school, why are you the only ones being targeted? You should look for the reason within yourself!”
The surrounding students erupted in laughter. “Who would be bored enough to pour paint on his bed? Psycho.” “He’s the only one with a key to his room. What kind of drama is he staging?”
As the chaos invaded his ears, fragments of memories from the past traveled through time to reach the present Wen Rong.
The inexplicable accusations and prejudices slapped him in the face like physical blows.
Instead of panicking, he became calmer.
The methods of bullying varied endlessly, but the final outcome was always the same. He was familiar with this; he was practiced in it.
Wen Rong took out his phone. “I’m going to call the police.”
“Go ahead! Let’s see who you plan to frame this time.”
“Hello, is this the pol—”
His wrist was suddenly yanked upward.
A large hand firmly gripped Wen Rong’s hand, an index finger tapping lightly on the red button on the screen. The call was disconnected.
“He really has no reason to pour paint on his own bed. Besides, he was with Shi Ye all morning; he didn’t have the time.” Leon had appeared behind Wen Rong at some point.
He released Wen Rong and lazily stretched his neck. “Mr. Yamaguchi, you know what a muscle-brained idiot Shi Ye is. He’s all about tormenting people. He only just released our little fool back to us.”
“Look at our little fool, he can barely stand.”
Wen Rong subconsciously retorted, “I’m not—”
Leon interrupted him. “Give Shi Ye some face and don’t explain. If you weren’t physically exhausted, it would imply he’s impotent. That really hurts a man’s self-esteem.”
After speaking, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers in front of Mr. Yamaguchi. “Mr. Yamaguchi, stop using your impoverished knowledge to imagine scenes. Letting the police into the school isn’t good for anyone. Pick up your responsibility, dignity, rights, and obligations as an educator and solve this immediately.”
Yamaguchi Kaihei looked as if he had just woken from a dream. “I-I-I’ll go check the surveillance?”
“So smart. Teacher, you’re experiencing a second intellectual awakening. Seize the little time you have left and go do it.”
Yamaguchi Kaihei didn’t even catch the sarcasm in the remark before he dashed downstairs.
Wen Rong quietly asked the System in his heart: “Gege, is the Senior really part of F4? He seems like a good person.”
System: […]
Host, are you perhaps a bit too dense?
He is spreading rumors about your sex life!
Leon von Löwenstein. Book setting: Poisonous tongue, obscene, and black-hearted. Of the 24 hours in a day, he spends 12 mocking people, 6 being passive-aggressive, and sleeps for 6—mostly likely having wet dreams.
Could he be a good person?
Once the mustache left, the onlookers crowded forward, phones clicking away as they took photos. They speculated excitedly about who had poured so much paint, their agitation growing until it looked like they might storm into Wen Rong’s room.
Leon clapped his hands. “Little fools, take photos if you want, but don’t disturb the crime scene. If the police can’t find the culprit, they’ll have to investigate social connections. And oh my, that would be terrible. Our Special Recruit has only made enemies with Shi Ye in this school. Shi Ye would become the number one suspect. And if the real culprit can’t be found because someone messed up the scene, Shi Ye will absolutely tear through this building with a tennis racket.”
The crowd retreated instantly, scattering so fast it was as if they were afraid of catching a plague.
Wen Rong watched this strange scene, the emotion in his eyes nearly turning into tears.
He had never imagined that the person who would appear when he was about to be beaten, the person who would take him for a drive, the person who would speak up for him when he was slandered, wasn’t a father, but a Senior.
Unable to hold back a choke in his voice, he bowed deeply to Leon. “Thank you, Senior.”
“Don’t mention it. Being too polite makes me embarrassed to lose my temper.”
“Thank you so very much.”
He swore he would firmly remember the Senior’s kindness and repay him if he ever got the chance.
“Alright.”
Wen Rong felt a tap on the back of his head.
“First you got me scolded by Shi Ye, then you made me waste an hour showing you around campus, and now there’s this huge paint incident. The first time I ever want to contribute to society and it’s this chaotic. You’re a jinx in my life, little fool.”
Wen Rong’s body suddenly stiffened.
Harm…
Jinx the Senior…
The moment those words registered, he felt as if the grey-haired throat-locking guy was strangling him again. His breath hitched with pain.
So, the Senior taking him for a drive and speaking up for him… it wasn’t out of genuine kindness?
A myriad of feelings gnawed at his bones like insects. Wen Rong’s face turned even paler than when he had seen the paint.
The Senior wasn’t actually happy. His happiness was built on the Senior’s suffering.
Guilt swirled in his heart, finally spilling out in a messy sentence: I caused trouble for the Senior.
“Hey, why aren’t you getting up?”
Wen Rong apologized even louder: “I am really, very sorry!”
Leon: “…”
Leon: “Alright, little fool, go find a place to drool. Don’t stand here and hinder me from catching the culprit.”
“I…”
“If you don’t go, Senior is going to lose his temper.”
Wen Rong almost yelled “Sorry” again, but stopped himself just in time. Biting his lip, he ran downstairs in a panic.
The sun was fierce, stinging his eyes.
Wen Rong sat on a bench near the dormitory building, his hands pressed against his knees, rubbing them unconsciously.
After a long time, his fingertips were rubbed raw and red. Every second became more tormenting than the last. Wen Rong called out to the System carefully in his heart.
“Gege.”
[What is it?]
“Are you treating me this well only because of responsibility too? Actually, I’ve caused you a lot of trouble. You don’t like me at all, do you?”
[…] The System didn’t know where this conclusion came from. But it was just a robot. Its setting was to serve the Host; liking or disliking the Host wasn’t part of its code.
Wen Rong pressed his lower lip upward hard, his nose twitching. As his whole body began to tremble, a tear dripped onto his glasses lens.
“I didn’t wash Shi Ye’s underwear. Did the mission fail? Does that affect you?”
[Failure has a greater impact on the Host. If the Host doesn’t have enough points, you cannot exchange for items in the exclusive mall.]
“Can I exchange for… the kind of things that stop me from causing trouble for others?”
[Host, someone is coming.]
“Why are you here alone?” A voice fell from beside him.
When Wen Rong turned around, Qi Yuan had already sat down next to him. “I heard about the paint.”
“…Hello.”
The tear slid from his lens to his cheek. He hurriedly raised his hand to wipe it away.
Qi Yuan pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket, folded it into a neat square, and handed it to Wen Rong. “Hands won’t wipe it clean. Use my handkerchief.”
“…”
“There are so many people at the dorm entrance. If they see you crying, they’ll think I’m bullying you. Wipe it quickly.”
Wen Rong obediently took the handkerchief. It felt soft and slippery in his palm. He subconsciously felt it must be expensive and wanted to hand it back.
Qi Yuan didn’t take it. He clasped his hands behind his back, smiling at him.
Wen Rong hesitated and hesitated, then said thanks, took off his glasses, and gently covered his face with the handkerchief.
Clatter.
He froze.
“I’ll pick it up for you.”
He wanted to say no, but in just a second, the glasses were handed back to him.
“Finished wiping your tears?”
Wen Rong hurriedly held out the handkerchief. “Thank you.”
After thanking him, he realized he had wiped his face with it. He pulled his hand back. “I’m sorry, I’ll buy you a new one.”
Hope it doesn’t cost more than twenty-five thousand, he prayed in his heart.
“No need.” Qi Yuan snatched the handkerchief and quickly stuffed it into his pants pocket.
“But…”
The arms of the glasses brushed against his temples and settled behind his ears. Wen Rong’s vision suddenly cleared.
Qi Yuan’s face was extremely close. “You really do look better with glasses on.”
Good… looking?
It was the first time Wen Rong had heard this word applied to him. He didn’t quite understand the implication.
[Host, he’s going to kiss you.]
Wen Rong jerked backward, his cheeks burning hot. “S-Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Qi Yuan smiled and sat up straight. “Senior Leon is still investigating the matter. I estimate the school will only replace your bed once the culprit is found. I live next door; you can sleep with me for the time being.”
Wen Rong shook his head frantically.
“Are you not used to living with others? Don’t worry, I spend my nights over at Shi Ye’s place. I don’t stay in the dorm.”
“No need, really, no need.”
“Why no need?” Qi Yuan’s gaze darkened. He reached out and took Wen Rong’s hand. “Do you hate me?”
Wen Rong was startled.
He tried to pull his hand away in a hurry, but Qi Yuan’s grip was strong, like a beast clamping down on him. The entire hand felt hot, and it felt as though a damp tongue was licking across his palm, the venom instantly paralyzing his body.
Heartbeat. Breathing. Cardiac arrest.
[Don’t space out. Leon sent a message.]
Wen Rong shouted as if grabbing a life-saving straw, “Senior Leon sent me a message!”
Qi Yuan frowned slightly but finally let go of his hand. “Mn, check his message first.”
Wen Rong hurriedly fumbled for his phone.
Leon von Löwenstein: [Caught the culprit. Done drooling yet? If you’re done, bring your brain and come back.]
Such niche vocabulary. Except for “come back,” he didn’t understand any of it.
He showed the phone to Qi Yuan to prove he wasn’t lying. “Senior Leon told me to go back.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No need to trouble yourself, I can go by myself. Thank you!”
Wen Rong couldn’t care about anything else. He grabbed his bag and sprinted back to the dormitory building.
On the way, his heart pounded wildly. He couldn’t help asking the System, “Gege, why is student Qi Yuan so nice to me? He even said I was good-looking. Is it… just like Senior Leon, out of politeness?”
[…] Someone who says you look better with glasses on can be a good person?
The System was still pondering how to explain to its Host, who had an EQ of 0, that Qi Yuan did not seem like good news.
Wen Rong answered himself, “I haven’t done anything for them, and I have no merits. It must just be politeness. I’d better not trouble them. What if they end up hating me?”
Alright, no explanation needed. The process was entirely wrong, but the conclusion is correct.
[Mn.]
Wen Rong rushed back to the dorm just as four men in fluorescent work uniforms were moving a bed through the door.
He craned his neck to look, only to have the back of his head flicked.
Clutching his head, he turned around and saw the nameplate: Leon von Löwenstein. Wen Rong took a half-step to the side and stood at attention nervously. “H-Hello, Senior.”
“Senior is not good.”
Wen Rong felt even more guilty. “I’m sorry to have caused you trouble.”
“I won’t talk about the wasted time.” Leon pulled a black card from his pocket and held it in front of Wen Rong. “Surveillance showed that the servant Shi Ye brought to school entered your room. He poured the paint. He claimed he wanted to bully you to curry favor with Shi Ye. Shi Ye fired him, and your bed has been replaced with a new one. This is 500,000 in compensation… Why that expression? Not satisfied?”
“No.”
“He really didn’t know about the paint throwing. When he found out, he was so angry he punched the wall twice.”
Leon continued, “Or if you have any ideas, be bold and say them. I’ll go tell him.”
“…”
Leon slapped the black card onto Wen Rong’s forehead. “Little fool, say something.”
Wen Rong stood completely still, like a zombie with a talisman stuck to its head.
After a long while, he retreated, arranging the bangs that the black card had pushed inside his glasses. “Can you ask him to trouble me quietly in the future, and not alarm so many people?”
Leon narrowed his eyes. “What nonsense are you babbling?”
“I hope he beats me up quietly.”
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