Chapter 9
Knock, knock.
Leon tapped the window with two fingers, his short blond hair blending into the night.
“He cried.”
Having calmed down, Shi Ye understood. “You did that on purpose just now.”
“Sort of.”
“And then I take the blame?”
“You’re not innocent.” Leon paused. “I found out that since Floriman Academy was founded, sixteen Special Recruits have been admitted. None of them graduated successfully. The current record is held by a senior from ten years ago who had absolute pitch. His ability wasn’t inferior to anyone in the school, but he still dropped out in his third year.”
“What does that have to do with you deliberately tormenting that loser?”
“No parents, returned twice by adoptive families, bullied by classmates at school, but—” Leon paused again, “his grades remained excellent.”
“What do grades from a small place like that prove?”
Leon didn’t answer Shi Ye’s question. He turned his face away, looking at the huddled figure in the night. “I like obedient children with potential.”
Shi Ye’s expression froze. “You like men?”
The Federation didn’t prohibit marriage between men, but Leon knew Shi Ye was definitely as straight as they come.
“I mean, admire.”
“Admire a loser?”
“I heard people only show their truest colors when they’re in a bad mood. Do you want to go down now and mock him a bit, see if the loser is still a loser?”
“…”
“Not curious?”
“…”
“Not curious at all?”
Shi Ye’s eyes moved slightly. He reached out and closed the laptop lid. “Too late. I’m going back.”
Leon smirked.
Curiosity could kill a hundred Shi Yes.
Floriman Academy had no curfew, but every student had a heavy workload, so lights inevitably went out when it was time to sleep. Between the two dormitory buildings, only that small ball squatting on the ground still had the energy to cry.
Shi Ye lowered his head in thought.
How could someone love crying so much? He must have cried many, many times already, right?
Couldn’t he be a bit tougher?
What was a grown man crying for?
Besides loving to cry and being a cowardly loser, what other “true colors” could this person possibly have?
What was the potential Leon talked about?
Shi Ye was hooked by Leon’s words, dying of curiosity. So he walked forward, and with no one else around, dramatically pretended to trip.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He raised his voice, continuing to pretend he was angry and accusing. “What are you squatting on the ground for in the middle of the night? You—”
A small, pitiful ball lifted his face from his knees.
The pale orange light haloed on his soft, broken hair. The wind lifted a strand from his forehead, and plain, elegant features slowly came into view, his eyes holding a mist.
Like the morning mist rising hazy by a small river, cold and clean, something that could only remain in photos or paintings. You couldn’t touch it or catch it if you reached out, inexplicably giving birth to a sense of loss—that it could “only be viewed from afar, not possessed.”
Is this… that loser?
Shi Ye’s heart gave a heavy thump, his voice changing 180 degrees. “Y-Y-You… what are you crying about again?”
The small face squinted at him for two seconds, wiped the glasses with a sleeve, and put them back on.
Through the thick lenses, Shi Ye could still feel the fear suddenly rising in those eyes.
Confirmed. It is the loser.
The loser scrabbled at the ground with both hands and practically rolled away to run.
Shi Ye’s mouth, just about to open, closed awkwardly.
What did I do?
The light at the dormitory entrance traced the shape of the small figure. Shi Ye completely forgot he had come down to find Wen Rong to mock him and see how angry he could get. His mind was full of “Why is he crying?” “What did I do wrong?”…
A moment later, he narrowed his eyes. The superior dynamic vision honed on the tennis court accurately tracked the target’s trajectory. He strode to catch up, extended an arm, and firmly hooked the person back from the stairs.
“Ouch, l-let go of me.”
“S-Sorry.” Shi Ye withdrew his hand quickly, looking foolish.
Thinking of how panicked Wen Rong looked just now, he couldn’t help asking, “Why did you run? Am I that scary?”
“I… I’m going back to the dorm.”
“Oh. Then go back.”
Watching the small figure about to turn the corner of the stairs, Shi Ye suddenly felt like he was dreaming.
Everything he saw just now was fake, right?
How could that loser look like that?
How could he look like that?
Want to look again.
Shi Ye chased up the stairs two steps at a time and hooked the person again. “Why were you crying? You, kid, must explain clearly today, otherwise…”
Looking down, he got his wish and saw the porcelain-white small face, the tip of the nose pink and soft from crying, like a strawberry daifuku. Confirming that what he saw just now wasn’t an illusion, his tongue subconsciously pressed against his cheek, and he continued, “Otherwise, everyone will think I did something to you again.”
Too many things had happened in the past two days. It seemed like whatever happened to the Special Recruit… whatever happened to Wen Rong was inevitably related to him. Now that he was crying like this, if he went up and met someone, tomorrow there would definitely be many people spreading rumors that Shi Ye was bullying the Special Recruit again.
For his reputation, he must ask clearly.
Wen Rong only felt he had met a psycho.
He raised his hand trying to pry the arm off, but touching the rock-hard muscle, he only felt powerless.
How could muscles be so solid!
Really want to break them off and install them on my own arms!
The terrifying thought flashed through his mind, scaring Wen Rong greatly.
Can’t think like that. That’s a crime; I’ll go to jail.
He tried hard to control his bad thoughts. “Can you let go of me?”
Shi Ye’s arm didn’t move an inch. “You have to answer my question.”
Wen Rong: “…”
He even shook Wen Rong’s head with his arm. “Why aren’t you talking?”
Wen Rong finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Because I don’t know the things you guys know. Can you let me go now?”
“What?”
“Are you a mosquito? Louder.”
He was going to die of anger.
Was this person hard of hearing? Why did he always have to make him repeat himself again and again?
“I’m crying because I’m always sad. You brought so many people to bully me, laughed at me for not knowing about IMO and summer camps, laughed at me looking for a job. In short, I’m so aggrieved, can’t I cry? Is there any justice? I can’t beat you in a fight, so what’s wrong with crying a bit?”
“When did I laugh at you?”
Wen Rong: “…”
Thinking about it carefully, he really didn’t seem to laugh.
Did I misunderstand him?!
Wen Rong turned somewhat angry from embarrassment. He raised his hand and hammered the arm barring his neck. “Let go of me! You wouldn’t be comfortable if someone did this to you, so why do you always do this to me?”
Shi Ye’s arm didn’t budge, and a “Tsk” sound came from beside Wen Rong’s ear.
“Fine, fine, fine, let’s say I laughed. But do you really think that?”
Wen Rong’s whole body shook. “Is… isn’t it?”
Looking at the pretty little face that suddenly turned dull, Shi Ye suppressed the corner of his mouth. “Ignorance is your least worth-mentioning flaw.”
“Your biggest problem is that you suck. Everyone here has been working hard since childhood to get into Floriman Academy. And you, who don’t even know what IMO is… anyway, you just accidentally saved me… saved two people, and now sit as equals with us. On what basis?”
The pink eyelashes trembled abruptly, and his eyes subconsciously tried to look up. “I’m not bad either!”
Through the thick glasses, one could see the irises were a very light brown, closer to amber, possessing an unfocused, ethereal beauty.
Shi Ye couldn’t help holding his breath, asking very deliberately, “What did you say?”
“I said I’m not bad either. Teachers used to praise me for being steadfast and hardworking. I just don’t know as much as you guys.”
Continuing to be deliberate: “What’s the use of hard work?”
The small face flushed red then white. “You just said you guys worked hard for many years to study at Floriman Academy.”
“…”
It took Shi Ye a few seconds to realize he was using his own words to block him?
Pfft.
He inexplicably wanted to laugh.
Shi Ye didn’t know what was wrong with him. Just detecting a tiny bit of spirit made him bloom with joy, as if he had discovered the tip of an iceberg of a big secret, seducing him to explore further. “Hard work is just the norm. I’m talking about talent. Do you understand talent?”
The small face turned completely red, shouting indignantly, “If I had parents, I would know what you know, and I would have the talent you have!”
Shi Ye silently retorted in his heart, Having parents doesn’t necessarily mean having these.
He wanted to continue watching this loser… see to what extent Wen Rong could get angry. But after a brief thought, he found there was nothing left to say. He couldn’t really talk about his parents.
Shi Ye still knew not to touch other people’s bottom lines.
After thinking, Shi Ye imitated Wen Rong and added, “Do you think talent just means getting higher exam scores?”
As soon as the words fell, two claws landed on his face, bringing a burning pain to the skin around his cheekbones and nose bridge.
“Fuck!”
He instinctively pushed Wen Rong away. The force was so great that Wen Rong spun half a circle on the spot.
“Fuck…”
A different voice sounded in the air.
Shi Ye froze for a moment, realizing this imposing curse came from Wen Rong’s mouth.
A bit unbelievable.
He dared to curse “Fuck”?
A crying loser, a coward who shrank to the ground hugging his head and shaking without even being touched, had a temper?
That elegant and handsome little face, wearing black-framed glasses, looked like a foolish bookworm who would go east if told to go east and west if told to go west. But he opened his mouth and cursed a vulgar “Fuck”—he could curse!
Shi Ye’s lips trembled with excitement. “What did you call me?”
Wen Rong managed to stand straight, raised his head, and opened his mouth wide, but that “Fuck” seemed stuck, unable to make a sound.
Finally, he angrily retorted with difficulty: “I called you whatever you called me.”
Under the light, the porcelain-white face, pointy chin, adorned with lips as pale pink as the nose tip, possessed an inexplicably soul-stirring beauty.
Shi Ye inexplicably thought of his own beautiful, useless cat. Its temper was incredibly good; no matter how you rubbed or squeezed it, it didn’t get angry. But when you really pissed it off, it actually didn’t have much attack power. Its paws were light and fluttery, and when it opened its mouth to hiss, its attack power was zero.
Shi Ye just liked to tease it when it finally got angry. One cat and one human playing “The King of Fighters.” When teased too hard, the useless cat really gnawed two small teeth marks on his arm—it didn’t hurt at all either.
“Curse again.” Shi Ye completely ignored the pain on his cheek, suppressing his excitement, eager to try.
Wen Rong: …
Wen Rong: ?
“Curse again.”
Wen Rong wanted to run, but afraid of being choke-held again, he braced his hand against the wall of the stairwell, daring not to move.
Shi Ye saw through his thoughts. “Curse again and I’ll let you go.”
“R-Really?”
“Mn.”
Wen Rong hesitated, opened his mouth, and enunciated a perfectly round, imposing “Fuck.”
Shi Ye suddenly smiled. The fluorescent light reflected two bloody scratches on his cheek; it didn’t look normal no matter how you looked at it.
Then, with the back of his hand facing Wen Rong, he pushed outward, signaling for Wen Rong to leave.
“Can I really… go… go now?”
“If you want to stay and curse a few more times, that’s fine too.”
Wen Rong turned and ran without delay.
Shi Ye leaned against the wall, took out his phone, and typed: [Loser]
Delete, delete, delete.
He re-edited the message: [Found out he’s actually quite pretty without glasses.]
Delete all.
It seemed unnecessary to tell Leon this.
Shi Ye put down his phone, shoved his hands in his pockets, and went downstairs.
He was a little excited. Walking out of the dormitory building, the cold air rushing up couldn’t dispel the heat all over his body.
Walking along, he took out his phone again and found a photo of his useless cat.
It was clearly a male cat, but his mom dressed it up like a little girl, always pinning various bows on its head.
When it was cremated, Shi Ye sent its bows into the furnace with it.
Shi Ye wandered slowly on the road for nearly twenty minutes. Approaching the villa next to the tennis court, he suddenly raised his fist and punched the air.
Overly familiar memories automatically filled in a white cat paw on the other side.
Slap, slap, slap.
The cold wind blew in gusts, like little paws patting the back of his hand.
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