Chapter 95: I Hate You, Go Away
Cheng Ge poked Wen Ling’s back shoulder with his finger.
“…Hmph.”
Cheng Ge wanted to flip him over but didn’t succeed. He couldn’t win against Wen Ling’s stubbornness for now. “So ‘Hmph’ means you’re talking to me?”
Wen Ling let out another muffled “Hmph” and buried himself in the quilt. His voice came out through the blankets: “I hate you. Go away.”
“I’m not going.”
Cheng Ge certainly wasn’t going anywhere. Ever since he experienced that dream of Wen Ling’s, Cheng Ge had automatically started listening to Wen Ling’s muffled words in reverse: “Go away” meant “Don’t leave,” and “I hate you” meant “Coax me some more.”
With Wen Ling’s personality, if he were truly angry, he would really go crazy. If he truly hated you, he wouldn’t even deign to look at you, or he’d kill you silently. He wouldn’t be like he was now—like a kitten scratching someone, painless and harmless.
True to form, when Cheng Ge pressed against him and held him tight, Wen Ling only gave a couple of symbolic twists before stopping, letting himself be circled obediently.
Cheng Ge’s arm passed through the gap between Wen Ling’s waist and the bed, his fingertips scratching Wen Ling’s belly a few times. “Hating me again?”
Wen Ling felt the itch but refused to laugh. He couldn’t get away either, so he huffed, “Mm!”
“Why do you hate me again?” Cheng Ge’s tone sounded a bit aggrieved and pitiful. “Do you not like me anymore?”
Wen Ling was quiet for a bit longer before saying “I like you” in a small voice.
“What?” Cheng Ge took the opportunity to flip him over. “I can’t hear you with your back to me. What did you just say?”
When face-to-face, Wen Ling couldn’t control himself from hugging Cheng Ge. He was a bit awkward, yet also acted as though he had every right, hugging Cheng Ge’s waist and burying his face in his chest. He spoke in a muffled voice: “I like you.”
“Then you don’t hate me anymore?”
“I do.” He was still being stubborn. “I hate you tonight.”
“Only tonight?” Cheng Ge’s tone was teasing.
Wen Ling nodded once, sounding very sensible: “Ji Ji said there is no overnight grudge between a ‘couple’ (husband and wife).”
…What on earth had Wen Ling’s roommates been teaching him?
Cheng Ge truly couldn’t hold back his laughter. He didn’t dare to be too brazen, so he could only suppress his voice and laugh quietly, nodding along with Wen Ling. “That makes sense.”
“What else did your roommates tell you?”
Wen Ling’s eyes moved under his eyelids, as if he were thinking. After a good while, he said, “…I can’t think of it right now.”
Cheng Ge held Wen Ling tight, feeling that Wen Ling sounded so full of life when he said “I can’t think of it right now.” It was incredibly endearing.
“It’s fine. If you can’t think of it, don’t think about it. I was just asking casually.”
The two held each other quietly for a while before Cheng Ge whispered, “It’s already very late.”
Then he stroked Wen Ling’s back, adjusting them into a sleeping position they were both used to and found comfortable. “Then may the person who hates me be broad-minded and sleep with this lowly one for a night. Goodnight, Xiao Wen.”
“Goodnight…” Wen Ling was half-asleep. Being held so comfortably, he was already very drowsy. With Cheng Ge coaxing him like that, his mood relaxed further, and he had long forgotten that he still “hated” Cheng Ge.
“Goodnight, Cheng Ge.” His voice was already drifting. Wen Ling just had to say goodnight one more time before he was willing to fully fall asleep.
When Cheng Ge woke up again, it was the middle of the night, awakened by a punch from Wen Ling. It was a rather hard punch.
Recalling, Cheng Ge had been “beaten” awake by Wen Ling three times during sleep.
The first time was when Wen Ling was having a nightmare, constantly murmuring “Don’t hit him, he’ll be good,” while swinging at Cheng Ge.
The second time was purely due to poor sleeping posture; he wasn’t honest and kicked Cheng Ge. After the kick, he went silent and stuck to Cheng Ge like a little tyrant, hugging and rubbing against him.
The third time was tonight.
This time Wen Ling wasn’t talking in his sleep. After punching Cheng Ge, his mouth was tight and his body was tense. Even his brow seemed slightly furrowed.
For a moment, Cheng Ge couldn’t tell if he was having a nightmare or if he had carried his evening anger into his dream. After weighing his options, he still asked 001 for an upgrade item and entered the dream.
The dream was very dark. Only an oil lamp hanging on the wall emitted a faint red glow. The red lampshade looked like the kind of lamp lit during New Year’s Eve vigils to see out the old year. Combined with the sound of firecrackers outside, it was festive.
But right now, the entire room appeared extremely eerie.
Cheng Ge scanned the room. It was pitch black and no one could be seen. The emotions transmitted to his body were fairly calm; if he had to be precise, there was a bit of confusion and anger.
With such a foreign environment, this was likely Wen Ling’s childhood.
Thump.
Thump!
Cheng Ge’s hands and feet suddenly ached twice. He was startled, his eyes going wide as he looked up at the full-length mirror in front of him. He whipped his head around; the large wooden box behind him was vibrating, emitting eerie thumping sounds in the silence of the deep night.
Cheng Ge had a bad premonition. Suppressing his heartbeat, he moved closer to peer at the large box.
Thump, thump.
The lid of the wooden box was vibrated open, revealing a crack.
With a Thump!, the lid of the large wooden box was flipped over, slamming onto the floor with a loud Bang!. Even the flame inside the lampshade flickered.
The wooden lid passed through Cheng Ge’s body. Cheng Ge clutched his aching wrist and suddenly locked eyes with a pair of eyes.
Those eyes were so familiar yet so foreign. They were round, with no emotion in them—a bit hollow.
The current Wen Ling never looked at him with such dim, cold eyes.
Cheng Ge froze for several seconds. It wasn’t until Little Wen Ling blinked that he remembered to move. He took two steps back, watching as Little Wen Ling climbed out of the large wooden box with somewhat clumsy movements.
Once out of the box and closer to the light, Cheng Ge could see Little Wen Ling’s overall appearance. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and long pants. He was thinner than before, a bit taller, and his hair was longer and messy. This dream entry should be at a later timeline than the previous ones.
With a bit more light, Cheng Ge discovered Little Wen Ling’s face was covered in injuries. Describing it as “black and blue” would be entirely appropriate. His small face was very dirty; because it was dark, the colors weren’t clear, but generally, there was a black patch here and a black patch there.
There was a strange smell in his nose—hard to describe—mixed with the scent of blood.
Cheng Ge kept observing Little Wen Ling, frowning in heartache as he reached out to touch his face, even though it was in vain.
Little Wen Ling clenched his fist, and Cheng Ge’s hand tightened along with it. He watched as Wen Ling walked step by step to the mirror, staring at the reflection inside.
Once Little Wen Ling was fully illuminated by the lamp, Cheng Ge saw clearly that his face was a mess of red and purple.
Cheng Ge only felt a wrenching pain at such a scene. He knelt on one knee beside Little Wen Ling, suppressing even his breathing as he tilted his head to look at him carefully.
Although the scene was eerie, Cheng Ge only felt sadness. He clearly should have felt heartache, but inexplicably, what Cheng Ge felt in his heart was terror and fear. He felt a sense of resistance, even disgust, toward that face.
Impossible.
Cheng Ge’s eyes went wide. He pressed his hand against his chest in disbelief, applying a lot of pressure. He was stunned for a long while before suddenly realizing that wasn’t his emotion—it was Wen Ling’s.
Cheng Ge looked at Wen Ling again, watching him frown and lower his head slightly, staring at himself in the mirror. His eyes looked even larger that way; in such an eerie environment, it might be a bit scary—scary to a child.
The fear transmitted to Cheng Ge’s heart increased by several degrees.
Little Wen Ling stared at himself in the mirror, raising his hand to wipe away a couple of red marks on his face. A burst of piercing pain immediately came from Cheng Ge’s face—a bone-drilling pain—yet Wen Ling’s expression didn’t change at all.
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