Chapter 58: Am I Really Cute?
Probably because Cheng Ge had a lot to worry about recently, his sleep quality wasn’t very good either. He would wake up once or twice in the middle of the night and see the meme stickers Wen Ling had sent.
Wen Ling: [Can’t sleep.jpg]
Wen Ling: [Miss you.jpg]
Cheng Ge typed back: “Had a nightmare?”
Wen Ling replied very quickly: “No.”
Cheng Ge: “Then why can’t you sleep”
Wen Ling: “I don’t know, I just can’t sleep.”
Cheng Ge: “Are you sleepy?”
Wen Ling: “A little.”
Cheng Ge’s brows unconsciously furrowed. If one is sleepy but can’t sleep, it’s very uncomfortable.
He felt he could almost imagine Wen Ling constantly yawning but staring at the pitch-black ceiling unable to fall asleep.
So pitiful.
Wen Ling: “Can you call me?”
Wen Ling: “I won’t speak, I just want to be on the phone with you.”
Cheng Ge found it strange: “And after calling?”
Just staying on the line without chatting to induce sleep, what use would that be?
Wen Ling: “I will be very happy.”
Cheng Ge: “But one of my roommates might snore. I don’t know if it will transmit to your side.”
Wen Ling: “It’s fine.”
Cheng Ge: “Then if you find it noisy later, just hang up the phone, okay.”
Wen Ling: [Cat nodding.jpg]
The dorky look of the sticker was especially like Wen Ling. Cheng Ge laughed in his heart for a while, dialed Wen Ling’s number, and placed the phone by his pillow.
He was originally just going along with Wen Ling’s request, but he didn’t expect Wen Ling to fall asleep not long after the call connected. And it had the same effect for several consecutive nights. Cheng Ge thought it over.
It was probably psychological.
Wen Ling’s description that calling would make him very happy was probably inaccurate; it should be that it would make him feel very at ease.
From childhood to adulthood, Wen Ling was someone who severely lacked companionship, extremely lacking in a sense of security. He was used to and had enjoyed having someone accompany him to sleep and hug him at night. So, the moment there was a drop in treatment, he would feel uneasy and unable to sleep.
Therefore, the function of Cheng Ge and Wen Ling being on the phone was to make Wen Ling feel that Cheng Ge was still keeping him company, allowing him to fall asleep faster.
After coming to this conclusion, Cheng Ge simply called Wen Ling as soon as he got into bed to sleep. Sometimes they would even chat for a while before sleeping, or Cheng Ge would be playing games for orders while Wen Ling was drawing—each busy with their own things—and then they would go to sleep together when the time came.
It was just that this method was like taking medicine for Wen Ling. If you take a drug for a long time, its efficacy will weaken. The effect of the phone calls would also gradually diminish.
Or rather, Wen Ling was becoming less and less satisfied with this. Cheng Ge, of course, had noticed.
But this problem seemed fundamentally difficult to solve from the root.
Friday night, Cheng Ge and Wen Ling finished classes and returned to Cheng Ge’s dorm together.
Cheng Ge’s roommates had all arranged to go out to play. Cheng Ge didn’t go. Only he and Wen Ling were left in the dorm. Wen Ling was currently teaching him 3D modeling.
Wen Ling not only had a high theoretical level but also strong practical skills.
Last time, Cheng Ge was working on an assignment given by the teacher and couldn’t get it right. Wen Ling happened to be nearby. Seeing Cheng Ge’s distressed face, he took the initiative to help. The final result, of course, was textbook-level standard.
“You’re really amazing.” At the time, Cheng Ge had been tormented by those figures for most of the day, so looking at Wen Ling, he felt the guy could emit light.
Wen Ling would be very happy to hear compliments, and would even look left and right as if feeling a bit shy, like a blade of grass blooming into a little flower, swaying quietly in the wind.
“Because I’ve done it many times when I was bored,” Wen Ling had said.
Cheng Ge recalled a time when he was memorizing a theory from a book and got stuck for a long time. Wen Ling automatically continued it for him. That calm and unruffled expression made it seem like the contents of the entire book were stored in Wen Ling’s brain.
Cheng Ge almost treated the person as an idol, sighing that a genius’s brain was simply different. As a result, Wen Ling also said: “I’ve read it many times when I was bored.”
Cheng Ge gradually understood that Wen Ling probably wasn’t a genius. At most, it could be said he had some talent. His towering knowledge was built brick by brick when he was lonely.
Reading any book five or six, seven or eight times—Cheng Ge couldn’t imagine just how long Wen Ling’s periods of loneliness were.
“How about you tutor me when you’re bored.” Cheng Ge had already forgotten with what specific kind of emotion he had made this request to Wen Ling. He only remembered Wen Ling’s expression when he heard those words—his eyes were very vivid, curved, and his fluttering eyelashes were like a small butterfly’s wings.
“Is it really okay?” Wen Ling leaned close to Cheng Ge and asked. Whenever Wen Ling was excited or happy, he liked to get very close to Cheng Ge.
Cheng Ge was almost stumped by Wen Ling’s question. He smiled helplessly: “Please, I’m the one making a request of you. It should be asking you if it’s okay.”
Wen Ling hurriedly said, “Okay, okay!” But then he suddenly grew a bit worried, saying in a low voice: “I might not be very good at teaching.”
“How could that be!?” Cheng Ge didn’t understand where Wen Ling’s worries came from. “Didn’t you explain it very well last time? Don’t belittle yourself.”
Wen Ling gripped his clothes, nodded, and said okay.
Putting it into practice, although Wen Ling’s teaching level couldn’t be considered master-class, he explained things very well. It was truly more than enough to teach Cheng Ge.
Moreover, Cheng Ge seemed to know why Wen Ling had said he might not teach well. It was probably because Wen Ling didn’t know how to express himself.
He didn’t know if it was because Wen Ling spoke very little in the past, but the vocabulary bank in his head was pitifully sparse. Cheng Ge could feel every time that Wen Ling was trying very hard to find the right words to express himself, so he always spoke slowly.
And sometimes he would pop out some quirky, eccentric words he created himself.
But when Wen Ling spoke, he was extremely serious and meticulous. The resulting contrast made Cheng Ge unable to hold back his laughter every time.
Then Wen Ling would think Cheng Ge was mocking him, would become sulky, and would stare at Cheng Ge, asking in a muffled voice: “Why are you laughing at me?”
Cheng Ge swore to the heavens repeatedly: “I’m really not mocking you, I just think you’re too cute.”
Cheng Ge didn’t think he was lying. He just felt Wen Ling was adorkably cute.
Wen Ling as a person was very magical. When he heard Cheng Ge call him cute, not only would he not be shy, but he would also look into Cheng Ge’s eyes to further confirm: “Am I really cute?”
There was no joy or smugness, only confusion and disbelief.
Being questioned so seriously by Wen Ling, Cheng Ge would become unnatural. Mainly, he wasn’t good at praising a boy for being cute. Complimenting casually was fine, but saying Wen Ling was so cute with such seriousness made him feel very awkward.
But he swore that the current Wen Ling really gave people a dorky feeling, and he felt that was cute.
When Wen Ling asked him if he was really cute, what surfaced in Cheng Ge’s mind was the selfie Wen Ling had sent him. After sending a photo the first time, Wen Ling sent over a few more.
It was still Wen Ling holding an empty takeout box, with a bizarre angle and an unwatchable composition. What was different was that the next few times, Wen Ling’s cheeks were slightly puffed up. Cheng Ge knew it was because the person still had unchewed food in his mouth, but he didn’t understand what it meant.
To say he was acting cute was impossible; that term didn’t even exist in Wen Ling’s little head.
Then he stared at the pictures and pondered for a few days, finally figuring out that Wen Ling probably wanted to prove that he had food in his mouth, that he was eating, and that he had finished the food.
When Cheng Ge figured it out, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Too dorky and too funny.
Wen Ling’s thinking was always excessively straightforward and simple, but when you finally understood his thoughts, you would feel they were very outrageous.
Outrageously simple, outrageously foolish of himself, and the dumbest thing was that Cheng Ge had actually stared at the photos and thought about them for a long time…
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