Shi Yuan, afraid that Huo Sang might change his mind, hurried back to his room to change.
Kang University’s formal dinners had specific dress codes: attending students were required to wear black formal attire and black academic gowns, as if part of a solemn ceremony, seated at long tables under the flickering candlelight.
On such occasions, even the most unkempt students could manage to look presentable for once.
Not to mention someone as exceptionally handsome as Huo Sang.
Shi Yuan wasn’t about to let him steal all the spotlight alone.
He pulled out his newly purchased cosmetics and carefully applied a “no-makeup” makeup look, all with the intention of outshining Huo Sang.
Even though he was straight, who said straight guys couldn’t dress up?
He only traced a faint, almost invisible eyeliner along his eyelids to enlarge his pupils and enhance the shape of his eyes. A thin layer of mascara was brushed onto his lower lashes, making them distinct, dewy, and utterly harmless-looking, evoking a sense of tenderness.
Lipstick was unnecessary—his lips were naturally rosy. A layer of lip gloss was enough to give them a sparkling sheen under the dim candlelight, looking even better than lipstick.
Shi Yuan examined himself in the mirror, quite satisfied.
What a refined straight guy.
Huo Sang definitely wouldn’t notice. He’d make him lose without even knowing how. Shi Yuan straightened his posture, turned, and strode out confidently.
Huo Sang had long been ready, waiting patiently in the living room.
Kang University held countless formal dinners each semester, big and small, but he had never found them particularly special. However, this was the first time he would be attending one with Shi Yuan, and he felt an inexplicable, slight nervousness.
Tonight, he had deliberately chosen a low-key black tuxedo. The wool fabric exuded a soft luster, and the edges of the silk satin peaked lapels bore faint, subtle signs of wear. Far from looking old, they seemed like a testament to the passage of time. The cuffs revealed half an inch of a white French-cuff shirt, with mother-of-pearl cufflinks glowing warmly under the light, exuding an air of old money.
This suit had been custom-made for him by a London tailor with two centuries of history. Unlike the flashy Italian luxury brands that loved to flaunt logos, it better suited his consistently understated style.
With a soft click, Shi Yuan’s door opened.
Huo Sang glanced over, and his breath caught slightly.
Tonight, Shi Yuan looked different from usual. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what had changed, but he seemed exceptionally radiant.
Huo Sang observed carefully and realized Shi Yuan was wearing makeup.
This suddenly stirred something in him.
Was it meant for him?
Shi Yuan walked over with a black bow tie, his voice soft: “Senior, could you help me tie this?”
Huo Sang cleared his throat lightly, forcing himself to stay calm as he reached out to take the bow tie. The hands that were usually steady and precise during experiments now trembled slightly, almost uncontrollably.
Shi Yuan watched Huo Sang’s movements, secretly delighted.
He had done this on purpose.
He wanted Huo Sang to face the full impact of his beauty up close, to make him feel inferior and bow down in admiration…
Shi Yuan’s gaze suddenly paused.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Huo Sang’s wrist. The cuffs of his white shirt bore faint creases, with subtle signs of wear, as if they were old clothes worn for many years. Following the cuffs, he discreetly scanned Huo Sang from head to toe—
Shi Yuan inwardly gasped.
He had assumed Huo Sang was a wealthy heir living off his family’s fortune, but he never expected him to be so poor that he couldn’t even afford a finely tailored, gleaming suit.
Especially the old shoes on his feet—upon closer inspection, faint traces of repairs could still be seen on the uppers.
Hawthorne naturally noticed Shi Yuan’s gaze lingering on his shoes and subtly lifted the corner of his mouth.
These handcrafted leather shoes with patches were the part of his outfit he was most satisfied with today.
Old was always more expensive than new.
A true old-money type was obsessed with long-term relationships, just like the one between him and Shi Yuan. As time slowly settled, their bond would only grow stronger, never weaker.
Shi Yuan stared for a long time, growing more and more frustrated the longer he looked.
This Hawthorne was so poor he couldn’t even afford a decent pair of shoes, yet he still dared to put on airs in front of him every day.
Was it really worth it, just to one-up him?
As Hawthorne finished adjusting his bow tie, Shi Yuan let out an unapologetic snort in his direction.
Only, out of consideration for Hawthorne’s help in easing his nausea over the past two days, Shi Yuan’s snort wasn’t too obvious.
It sounded more like a soft whimper from a small animal.
Hawthorne’s heart melted instantly.
Shi Yuan glanced at the freshly tied black bow tie, nodded in satisfaction, lifted his chin slightly, and said with a hint of pride, “Alright, let’s go.”
Hawthorne very naturally took Shi Yuan’s academic gown, draped it over his arm, and turned slightly to gesture like a gentleman.
Shi Yuan froze for a second, his face flushing slightly as he reflected on whether his earlier snort had been a bit too petty.
The path to the banquet hall cut through half the campus. The sky had already darkened, with the afterglow of the sunset spreading across the horizon like blood, dyeing the sky above their heads crimson.
Shi Yuan had no mind to appreciate the scenery, only worrying that he wouldn’t suddenly feel nauseous halfway there.
He took a deep breath and subtly moved a little closer to Hawthorne.
Hawthorne seemed completely unaware. As Shi Yuan inched closer, he shifted slightly toward the edge of the path.
Shi Yuan kept leaning toward him, and Hawthorne kept moving toward the roadside.
By the time they reached the entrance of the banquet hall, Hawthorne had nearly been pushed onto the lawn and had no choice but to stop.
Unable to press closer, Shi Yuan didn’t give up. Instead, he reached out, pretending to be completely casual, and brushed his hand toward Hawthorne’s arm.
Hawthorne sighed helplessly, grabbed Shi Yuan’s hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’ve noticed you keep touching me.”
Shi Yuan replied “…Do I?”
Damn, caught again.
He lowered his head, staring at his hand held by Hawthorne, his ears quietly turning red.
What’s with this guy!
Why act like he’s the one being taken advantage of? Clearly, he’s the one being taken advantage of right now.
Shi Yuan quickly pulled his hand back, his heart racing chaotically. Under the meaningful, gossipy gazes of the surrounding students, he hurriedly lowered his head and slipped into the banquet hall.
Cambridge’s evening banquets were always steeped in tradition.
Candlelight flickered along the long tables on both sides, with silverware, wine glasses, and snow-white napkins gleaming with a subdued, cool light under the dim glow.
All the attending professors and students wore black robes, conversing in hushed tones in small groups.
As soon as Shi Yuan stepped inside, he felt a slight tightness in his chest.
He gently pressed his abdomen, planning to find a corner to sit for a while, when his phone suddenly vibrated.
He glanced down at the screen, his face instantly lighting up with joy. Turning around, he answered the call and walked toward the window.
“Uncle He,” Shi Yuan said, his eyes curving into a smile.
“Finished your finals? How did they go?” The voice on the other end was gentle and refined, unhurried like a flowing stream, instantly putting Shi Yuan at ease.
“Just finished. The results aren’t out yet,” Shi Yuan replied, glancing back toward the entrance as he spoke.
Hawthorne stepped gracefully into the banquet hall, causing a small stir.
Shi Yuan quietly pressed his phone closer to his ear, blocking out the commotion.
“Mm.” He Jingchuan, far on the other side of the Eurasian continent, responded softly. Shi Yuan’s studies had never given him cause for worry, so he got straight to the point. “You sent a message last night saying you weren’t feeling well? Are you better now? I went to bed early last night and only just saw it. I’m sorry.”
Unbidden, Hawthorne flashed through Shi Yuan’s mind, and his face suddenly grew warm. He hurriedly replied, “It’s fine, Uncle He. I’m much better now. Maybe my stomach’s been off from irregular meals during the recent exam prep.”
“Don’t just guess.” He Jingchuan’s tone paused slightly, carrying a hint of reproach. “Frequent vomiting can easily lead to electrolyte imbalance. You must replenish with electrolyte water. Also, when is your break? Come back to China, and I’ll check you over.”
Shi Yuan felt a bit embarrassed.
He Jingchuan was the director of a private hospital in China. He had studied abroad in the UK in his early years and was said to have even served as a private doctor for the British royal family. After returning to China, he opened his own hospital, specializing in difficult and complex cases. Having someone like him personally attend to such a minor ailment felt like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut.
“Thank you, Uncle He.” Shi Yuan quickly steered the conversation away, deciding to tell He Jingchuan about his part-time job ahead of time. He spoke earnestly, “Uncle He, I’ve saved up a considerable amount from working this year. I will definitely repay you for my tuition and living expenses.”
The annual tuition and living expenses for an undergraduate at Cambridge were conservatively estimated at over 400,000 RMB, an amount far beyond the means of an ordinary family.
Shi Yuan’s family didn’t have the resources. His ability to study in the UK smoothly relied entirely on He Jingchuan’s sponsorship.
He Jingchuan was no relation to him, yet he had always looked after him with great care. Shi Yuan had to remember this kindness.
Shi Yuan had expected He Jingchuan to have some reservations about him working, but instead, He Jingchuan said, “That’s good. You can even earn a bit from the exchange rate difference.”
Shi Yuan breathed a sigh of relief. After chatting a bit more, he hung up.
The commotion caused by Hawthorne had long since faded behind him. Shi Yuan frowned.
It was quiet—a bit too eerily quiet.
He turned around and, lifting his gaze, met Hawthorne’s eyes directly.
Hawthorne stood not far behind him. It was unclear how long he had been standing there. His expression wasn’t exactly pleasant; his gaze was heavy, as if digesting something.
Who had Shi Yuan been talking to on the phone? Smiling so obediently?
Shi Yuan felt unwell.
He wasn’t sure if it was because of the crowd or the scent in the hall—a mix of wine, old wood, and buttered bread. He had never found it bothersome before, but today it felt cloying, clinging stubbornly inside his nostrils.
The faint, churning nausea in his stomach hadn’t stopped since he entered and now surged up again slightly.
Almost involuntarily, his steps carried him toward Hawthorne.
Many people in the hall were discreetly watching the scene.
The two individuals widely recognized in the college for their striking looks had both appeared at the banquet tonight and were now standing together. Naturally, this warranted attention.
The jealousy that had filled Hawthorne vanished the moment Shi Yuan walked toward him.
The candlelight illuminated Shi Yuan beautifully. The black academic gown contrasted with his cool, pale skin. Standing in that soft, golden light, he possessed a kind of overly serene beauty.
Hawthorne watched him for a few seconds.
Then, suddenly, he reached out and gently straightened Shi Yuan’s bow tie.
“The banquet is about to start. Would you like to sit with me?” Hawthorne asked softly.
Shi Yuan felt his face was about to flush crimson—from sheer irritation at Hawthorne.
Aren’t we supposed to be sworn rivals?
Why are you putting on an act in front of so many people?
The professors had already begun taking their seats, settling at the high table.
Shi Yuan had no choice but to sit down beside Hawthorne, fuming.
While waiting for the banquet to officially begin, Shi Yuan idly twirled the wine glass in his hand, planning to study the evening’s menu blind box. To some extent, it was a way to mentally prepare himself—just in case something he couldn’t stomach was served, at least he’d be ready.
Just then, someone called his name in Mandarin.
“Senior Shi Yuan!”
Shi Yuan turned.
A fair-faced young man with smiling eyes walked toward him, dressed in a crisp suit and a meticulously knotted tie, his steps carrying just the right amount of humility.
Shi Yuan paused briefly, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.
“It really is Senior Shi Yuan!” The young man approached, his smile bright and his tone tinged with pleasant surprise. “I thought I might have mistaken you for someone else.”
Shi Yuan vaguely remembered him. A high school junior, two grades below him, who had proactively added him as a contact half a year ago to ask questions about applying to Cambridge.
However, Shi Yuan didn’t have the best impression of him. During their chats half a year ago, he had sensed a faint, lingering sense of pretentiousness in the young man’s words and actions.
The junior took a seat opposite Shi Yuan, but his eyes subtly drifted toward Hawthorne. With a perfectly measured expression of surprise, he asked, “Senior Shi Yuan, who is this…?”
Shi Yuan didn’t feel like talking and kept his introduction brief. “A senior from our college.”
Hawthorne was flipping through the wine list, head bowed, and didn’t even glance up at the mention, paying no attention.
Worthless social interactions weren’t worth his time.
Yes! This was exactly the arrogant, dismissive attitude Shi Yuan was familiar with—the real Hawthorne!
Shi Yuan finally felt at ease.
The junior, however, didn’t seem embarrassed at all. He greeted Hawthorne cheerfully, “Hello, Senior Hawthorne.”
Shi Yuan was silent
You clearly know him, yet you still asked me!
The junior smoothly switched from Mandarin to fluent English, his smile becoming even sweeter. “Senior Hawthorne, I’m a freshman from the neighboring college. My name is Lu Jiahao, and I’m from the same hometown as Senior Shi Yuan—our old homes are just two streets apart.”
Hawthorne paused while flipping through the wine list.
Same hometown.
He glanced toward Shi Yuan. Seeing that Shi Yuan didn’t deny it, Hawthorne nodded politely and said in a courteous tone, “Student Lu.”
Shi Yuan suddenly felt uncomfortable again!