Lu Yao’s pupils dilated in shock. He couldn’t believe how someone could look as though they had walked straight out of a comic book.
That face. That waist. Those hands. Those legs.
It was genuinely lethal.
“What are you looking at?” Cheng Sheng followed Lu Yao’s gaze, but the man had already disappeared around the corridor corner.
Lu Yao lightly brushed a non-existent drop of drool from his lips: “Feasting my eyes. Thanks for the treat.”
“Such niche phrasing.”
Lu Yao only just noticed Cheng Sheng was still there. “Why haven’t you left yet? Did you finish your experiment? Did you finish reading your papers?”
“No. Are you really going to ditch me without even pulling up your pants after eating your fill?”
Lu Yao closed the door halfway, leaving only his upper body visible: “Striving hard today to enjoy a male model tomorrow. Good luck, goodbye.”
A hand violently grabbed the edge of the closing door, and Cheng Sheng asked one last question: “Are you coming to the NG anime convention? Everyone is going.”
“Who participates in you 2-D gatherings?” The door shut completely.
Lu Yao leaned against the back of the door for a moment, his eyelashes drooping. A few seconds later, he raised his head again, put on his protective suit, and walked into the sterile room.
As soon as he stepped in, Wu Bohong crowded around to stir up trouble: “What did Cheng Sheng want with you? Is she chasing you?”
Such zero-boundaries behavior for a guy.
Lu Yao sat down, raised his eyes, and answered earnestly: “She offered five hundred to buy one night of my time. I didn’t agree.”
Wu Bohong’s eyes widened: “No way, is she actually chasing you? But five hundred is honestly a bit low. Even if our junior here went into the host club industry, he’d at least pull four figures.”
Lu Yao: “I said one hundred is fine.”
Wu Bohong: “”
Qiao Jingjing and Li Siyuan, who were eavesdropping: “”
That afternoon, Lu Yao didn’t slack off. He ran experiments for hours straight, filling almost half a notebook with experimental records—90% of which were completely wrong entries.
After returning to the dorm, Lu Yao collapsed on his bed for a bit before getting right back up to open his tablet and resume his frantic scribbling.
For the sake of Teacher Lang Si’s out-of-print autographed photo, even if his hand broke, he had to finish drawing today!
At six in the morning, sunlight gently filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the desk next to the single bed. The desk was crowded with a dazzling array of merchandise and manga volumes, leaving only a tiny patch of clear space in front of the computer.
The side of the man’s face was bathed in the morning light, his fingertips slowly tracing lines across the screen. Everything was peaceful and serene.
The next second, the desk let out a loud clatter. Lu Yao’s forehead slammed heavily onto the surface, leaving a red mark. It took a while for his unfocused gaze to gradually clear up.
Ah, finally finished. Lu Yao had pulled an all-nighter to finish Cheng Sheng’s character design commission, keeping himself alive on sheer fumes fueled by Teacher Lang Si’s poster.
He sent the rough draft to Cheng Sheng’s QQ, stood up, and stretched, planning to get in a bit of a workout.
The corner of the room was cluttered with all sorts of fitness equipment.
He had barely lifted the barbell for a moment when Cheng Sheng replied to his message.
[Qingmei Zhuma Broke Mirror Reunited TXT]: Ahhhhhh thank you, miu! Ahhhhhh my son is so handsome!!
[Qingmei Zhuma Broke Mirror Reunited TXT]: So fast? Did you not sleep? [Mushroom peeking GIF]
Lu Yao lifted a dumbbell with one hand while replying to Cheng Sheng with the other.
[Out and About Acting Like a Weirdo]: You didn’t sleep either? Waiting to die and reincarnate in another world? [Mushroom head spilling yogurt GIF]
[Qingmei Zhuma Broke Mirror Reunited TXT]: Is it possible I just woke up? There are no Teacher Lang Sis in the other world, I advise you to go to sleep. [Kitten throwing punches GIF]
[Out and About Acting Like a Weirdo]: Can’t sleep. When are you giving me the autograph?
[Qingmei Zhuma Broke Mirror Reunited TXT]: You and Lang Si are buried at opposite poles of the earth.
[Qingmei Zhuma Broke Mirror Reunited TXT]: Let’s trade at the school gate this afternoon. I’ll treat you to KFC.
[Qingmei Zhuma Broke Mirror Reunited TXT]: Single rhyme, top-tier.
Lu Yao chuckled, put down the dumbbell, and casually sent Cheng Sheng a “Scan me 50 RMB” sticker as a reply.
In an era where everyone used WeChat, Lu Yao and his familiar 2-D online friends had a special fondness for using QQ. His QQ was filled with countless reaction images, and whenever he was tired, browsing his Qzone space always helped him unwind.
People like them were called the obsolete generation, but Lu Yao didn’t mind at all. In fact, he felt it wasn’t a bad thing.
When Lu Yao woke up, it was already afternoon. Since his lab group project had wrapped up for the day, he didn’t need to go to the laboratory.
After tidying up a bit, Lu Yao coordinated a time with Cheng Sheng. In the end, because neither of them wanted to walk a single step outside the school gates, they changed the meeting and delivery spot to the campus cafeteria.
The cafeteria wasn’t very crowded outside of meal hours. Lu Yao found a seat, and less than five minutes later, Cheng Sheng arrived.
He gave a blank look to the sitting Cheng Sheng: “Where is it?”
Cheng Sheng rolled her eyes, pulled a tightly wrapped, long, narrow package out of her crossbody bag, and handed it to Lu Yao.
“You mainstream traitor!”
Lu Yao took it, checked it over, and finally looked satisfied. He had specifically instructed Cheng Sheng to ship it securely so no one could tell it was a cosplayer’s autographed poster.
If his 2-D identity was exposed, there was always a chance his adult doujinshi artist identity would be exposed too. That was absolutely out of the question.
“Thanks. I’ll treat you to milk tea.” Holding Lang Si’s out-of-print autograph, Lu Yao practically radiated an aura of pure holiness.
Cheng Sheng shuddered in disgust, though she was promptly bribed by the milk tea: “I want mango pomelo sago.”
Lu Yao thought about it. “No, mango pomelo sago doesn’t have a second-cup-half-price deal.”
“So I’m just your half-price discount tool? Give the item back, I’m taking it back!”
“There are no seven-day no-reason returns, my dear.” Lu Yao stood up, went to the milk tea counter to buy a mango pomelo sago for Cheng Sheng, and got something else for himself.
Cheng Sheng ordered a bowl of rice noodles, slurping them up strand by strand while occasionally showing Lu Yao some new merchandise she had bought.
Lu Yao half-listened, his gaze drifting more and more toward two college students sitting at a nearby table.
The slimmer boy was pickily tossing the vegetables he disliked into the opposite boy’s bowl with a hint of disgust, while the boy opposite him helplessly picked up the rejected veggies and ate them in one bite.
Hiss.
Pampering top and tsundere bottom. Delicious, truly delicious.
Noticing Lu Yao’s gaze, Cheng Sheng swallowed her noodles and sighed, “So good, so good.”
Lu Yao only looked for a couple of seconds before pulling his gaze back. Generally speaking, he didn’t ship real people; after all, it was pretty invasive to others.
He usually borrowed tropes to improvise on his own—commonly known as self-inserting, though he never inserted anyone specific.
After Lu Yao pulled his gaze away, the picky boy let out a sigh of relief and whispered, “I thought I pissed him off. His glare was so fierce.”
The other boy comforted him, “It’s fine, I’m here.”
“You’re even weaker than me.”
“I’ll take video evidence of you getting beaten up so we can make him pay for damages.”
“”
Having pulled an all-nighter, Lu Yao didn’t have much of an appetite. He took a couple of bites, put his chopsticks down, and waited for Cheng Sheng.
Cheng Sheng ate while playing on her phone. Resting his chin in his hand, Lu Yao remarked casually, “Even eating requires looking at your phone?”
Cheng Sheng didn’t even raise her head: “You don’t understand. Every generation has their own husband.”
Lu Yao: “Right, please do continue enjoying your husband.”
Bored, he looked around. An occupational hazard of being a comic artist was looking at everything as reference material: That structure looks good, I should take a picture of it as a reference.
The position of the mole under this guy’s eye is gorgeous. Note that down.
This hairstyle is so sunny. Note it down.
This character design is great. So good.
This guy’s legs are so long, the shape of his ankles is exquisite. And those hands, with his long hair flowing past his shoulders…
Lu Yao’s aimlessly drifting gaze came to a halt, freezing on a man’s face.
Amidst the silent mutual gaze between the two, the man suddenly gave Lu Yao a slight smile. The reflection of light on his lenses obscured his expression.
Holy shit. An intellectual, bespectacled man.
Lu Yao hadn’t expected to run into him in the cafeteria again today. Last time, he’d only managed a hurried glance, but now Lu Yao could see his face clearly.
His nose was his nose, his eyes were his eyes. Such a magnificent face.
Seeing that Lu Yao didn’t react, the man tilted his head slightly in a silent query.
Subconsciously acting like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, Lu Yao straightened his posture and dragged his gaze back.
A mature man’s head tilt kill. Absolutely devastating.
Until Cheng Sheng finished eating and walked out of the cafeteria, Lu Yao didn’t dare look back in the man’s direction. Instead, Cheng Sheng, who had walked ahead, glanced back and whispered to Lu Yao, “Did you see that?! Is he not a male model?!”
“Saw him.” Not only did he see him, but the guy hit every single point on his aesthetic radar.
What a foul-playing man. Just looking at him was enough to fill you up.
After leaving the cafeteria, Lu Yao parted ways with Cheng Sheng. Passing by a recessed corner under the teaching building wall, he tapped twice against the brickwork.
A moment later, a pure black kitten slowly poked its head out.
Lu Yao poured milk into a disposable little bowl, placed it in front of the cat, and squatted there watching it lap up the majority before leaving.
That evening in the dorm, Lu Yao received an urgent, life-or-death phone call from his editor, who was the same age as him. Most of the time, the two of them chatted more like friends.
“Rabbit—”
“Not finished.”
“I—”
“The deadline isn’t here yet.”
“You… do you know what I hate most?”
“You hate it most when people interrupt you while you’re talking.”
Lu Yao heard his editor, Chen Xin, take a sharp breath on the other end. Gritting his teeth, Chen Xin issued his final ultimatum: “Tomorrow is the absolute deadline! Even if you stick your butt up in the air and do backflips, it won’t save you if you don’t finish!”
Lu Yao gave a perfunctory acknowledgment and cleanly hung up the phone, then took a final drag of his cigarette and crushed out the butt.
Having pulled an all-nighter, even though he’d slept through the morning, he still lacked energy. Deciding to distract himself, he took out Lang Si’s autographed poster.
Carefully applying an anti-oxidation film over the autograph, Lu Yao admired it for a bit, sat quietly for a moment, and then clicked on the sole account he followed on his secondary Weibo alt-account.
Lang Si’s Weibo had stopped at his final post from two years ago, where he announced his impending retirement from the community and the cancellation of all convention appearances.
When Lu Yao had seen that news back then, it felt like a bolt from the blue. Even the comic he had been secretly drawing based on Lang Si as a prototype had ended in a tragic breakup, and his Weibo replies had been filled with wailing fans.
Lu Yao remained unmoved, his heart as dead as concrete.
Now, looking at Lang Si’s retirement notice for the umpteenth time, Lu Yao’s heart still ached.
Underneath that post, for who knows what number of time, he left a comment: Looking forward to the day Teacher Lang Si returns! Waiting!
As soon as he posted the comment, his notifications started buzzing wildly.
Lu Yao tapped them open and saw that his newly posted comment had already accumulated a bunch of new replies.
[Little Rabbit Forward] is definitely Teacher Lang Si’s die-hard fan. He comes to comment almost every week for two years straight.
[Here for the commemorative group photo.]
[True love right here.]
Lu Yao paid it no mind. He scrolled down a bit and opened Lang Si’s final cosplay photo set from two years ago, where he had portrayed the pink-haired male supporting character from the adult manga [XX Photography Club].
In the classroom setting, the pink-haired man wearing black sunglasses slipped a nail-polished purple-black finger into his mouth, drawing out a transparent string of saliva. The sparkling tongue piercing visible as he poked out his tip was exceptionally eye-catching.
Just looking through a few sets of photos made Lu Yao flush and his heart race.
Every time he looked at Lang Si’s cosplay photos, he felt a sense of the dimensional wall shattering, as if 2-D characters genuinely existed in the same world as him.
He liked the characters Lang Si cosplayed even more than Lang Si himself.
After finishing looking at Lang Si’s photos, Lu Yao felt completely invigorated. He sat back down at his desk and opened up his unfinished serialized comic.
His manga was stuck at the part involving emotional exchange in bed. In the comic panel, the top pinned the bottom down on the bed, the lower half of their bodies linked and obscured by a massive sheet of holy light.
This was for the physical tankobon volume; in the digital early-release version of the manga, he never drew holy light.
He was stuck simply because Lu Yao hadn’t been in the mood to draw that section lately, but now he felt like he could do it again.
He pulled two cans of beer from the fridge. After setting them on the desk, Lu Yao dug out a sizable combination lock safe from under his bed, which clattered loudly as he pulled it out.
Without hesitation, he unlocked it. The contents inside were rated at a level that required full censorship mosaics.
Lu Yao scanned his collection, picking out a rigid model with thick joints that couldn’t be gripped by a single hand.
The tops in his manga had already been upgraded to hot water bottles; he couldn’t afford to lose in terms of momentum. Hot water bottles were too exaggerated, but at the very least, it had to be a large size.
He liked using physical objects as references because it made the drawings look more authentic. Plus, the most convenient thing about a real model was that once he finished drawing, he could still use it on himself.
However, after sizing up this maximum-sized model, Lu Yao wondered if maybe it was a bit too big. It would probably burn through a lot of hand lotion.