At the high table, the professors were reciting the grace in Latin. Accompanied by the sound of bells, servers began bringing out the appetizers for the students.
Lu Jiahao glanced at Hawthorne and said with a smile, “Senior Hawthorne seems to get along very well with our senior Shi Yuan.”
Shi Yuan nearly spat out his bread roll right then and there.
What a strong scent of “green tea”—no need to brew Longjing tonight when he got back.
“How enviable,” Lu Jiahao lowered his eyes. “Senior didn’t have many friends around him when he was back in China.”
Shi Yuan’s expression finally changed, and he looked up at him.
But Lu Jiahao acted as if he hadn’t noticed, continuing softly, “All of us high school alumni know that Senior Shi Yuan had a tough time back then. His parents passed away in a car accident when he was very young. The money for his studies in England… was said to be sponsored by a very influential dean back in China.”
Both parents died in a car accident?
Hawthorne caught the most crucial words.
Shi Yuan, usually so lively and cheerful, was actually an orphan?
Hawthorne silently pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart begin to ache with sharp, intermittent twinges.
Lu Jiahao paused deliberately at this point.
Someone nearby asked curiously, “A dean?”
“Yes,” Lu Jiahao smiled innocently. “The dean of a particularly famous private hospital in our hometown. That dean is a full twenty-four years older than Senior Shi Yuan, with excellent conditions, and seemed to take special care of him.”
“It’s just… I don’t know why—”
He drew out the last syllable.
“That dean has remained single all these years.”
The table fell silent for a moment.
Shi Yuan set down his spoon, picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth, his expression indifferent, as if listening to a story that had nothing to do with him.
He really couldn’t be bothered.
Hawthorne’s brows, however, furrowed almost imperceptibly.
When those jade-green eyes turned cold, the pressure they exuded was immense.
He looked directly at Lu Jiahao. “What are you trying to imply?”
Lu Jiahao stiffened, immediately putting on an innocent expression. “Huh? Nothing, I just think Senior is very fortunate to have met such a benefactor.”
Hawthorne looked at him but said nothing.
On the other side of the long table, those who had been chatting gradually quieted down as well.
Suddenly, Shi Yuan felt nauseous.
That wave of disgust surged up violently, as if something had twisted hard in his stomach.
He immediately covered his mouth.
But Lu Jiahao misunderstood.
His expression changed slightly, and he forced a smile. “Senior… do you dislike me?”
Shi Yuan was silent
If only you knew.
But he didn’t have the energy to speak now.
His stomach was churning fiercely. He adjusted his sitting posture, and the tip of his foot accidentally brushed against Hawthorne’s calf.
Hawthorne froze for a moment.
He immediately understood. The next second, his leg pressed back without hesitation, lightly rubbing against Shi Yuan’s calf through the fabric of his trousers as a gesture of comfort.
Shi Yuan, who had just started to pull his foot back, froze in place.
He stared at Hawthorne in shock.
What was he doing?!
Shi Yuan felt his face burning hot and quickly wanted to take a sip of wine to steady himself.
But at that moment, the churning in his stomach surged upward again, sudden and intense. Shi Yuan’s fingers tightened silently, gripping the rim of his glass.
Damn, not again.
He absolutely could not vomit in front of Lu Jiahao, that master of “green tea” tactics!
Shi Yuan made a split-second decision. He turned sideways, wrapped both arms around Hawthorne’s arm, buried his face in Hawthorne’s shoulder, and went still.
The entire hall of students fell completely silent for a full three seconds.
Lu Jiahao’s expression froze on his face, whatever words he had been about to say were abruptly paused by this sudden action.
Hawthorne fell silent for a moment, took a deep breath, and asked in the gentlest voice possible, “What’s wrong?”
Shi Yuan’s stomach was aching terribly, his voice muffled: “It’s not as good as what you make…”
Hawthorne: “Hmm?”
Shi Yuan closed his eyes, his forehead rubbing against Hawthorne’s shoulder and neck, his breathing light: “I don’t want to eat anymore.”
Hawthorne’s mind buzzed. Suppressing the overwhelming emotions in his heart, he glanced down at Shi Yuan, then calmly withdrew his arm from Shi Yuan’s grasp and instead wrapped it around his waist, his palm pressing firmly against the small of his back.
“Alright,” he coaxed softly, “If it’s not good, don’t eat it. I’ll make you something fresh when we get home.”
He looked up and swept a glance at Lu Jiahao.
Just that one glance—devoid of any expression, any words. Lu Jiahao couldn’t maintain his smile either, awkwardly averting his gaze.
“Let’s go,” Hawthorne said.
Shi Yuan followed Hawthorne out of the doorway. As the night breeze rushed over them, he immediately took a step to the side, putting distance between himself and Hawthorne, his ears turning as red as boiled crab.
Even though his senior brother was a bad person, he had to admit—the way his senior brother had just stood up for him and given Lu Jiahao the cold shoulder had genuinely pleased him.
So the moment he pushed Hawthorne away, he felt a twinge of regret.
Thinking his reaction was too exaggerated, making it seem like he was protesting too much, he quickly tried to make amends, speaking in an ingratiating tone: “Senior brother, my relationship with the dean… it’s actually not what you think.”
He was genuinely Hawthorne’s sworn rival, not some kept boy. In life, one mustn’t have a single stain on their reputation.
Hawthorne hadn’t expected Shi Yuan to take the initiative to explain. Seeing him looking like a little boyfriend eager to clear up a scandal, he couldn’t help but curl the corner of his mouth slightly: “Oh? Then what is it?”
Shi Yuan felt a flicker of confusion.
Something seemed off, but he couldn’t pinpoint what.
He gathered his thoughts and said, “Back when my parents were in a car accident, I was in the car too. I was just lucky—I survived after being rushed to the hospital. The dean was the one who operated on me. If you don’t believe me, look—I still have a scar on the back of my head.”
As he spoke, he pulled open the collar of his shirt, tilting his head to bring it closer to Hawthorne.
What Hawthorne saw first was Shi Yuan’s slender, fair neck—long and clean. Then came a faint, elusive fragrance. Only then did he remember to look at the old scar.
But Shi Yuan had already straightened his clothes again, covering the scar once more.
He lifted his head and continued, “The dean saw that I had no relatives left and felt sorry for me, so he looked after me from time to time after that. It’s true that he funded my education, but I’ll pay him back every cent in the future.”
It was absolutely not a transactional relationship of being kept!
Hawthorne’s heart sank heavily.
So the treasure he had been carefully protecting not only had no parents but didn’t even have a single relative to rely on.
All these years, he had no idea how much hardship or how many grievances Shi Yuan had endured…
Hawthorne’s eyes grew slightly warm.
Observing his expression, Shi Yuan was suddenly startled.
Shit! My rival is furious!
His eyes are even red with anger!
Shi Yuan pondered for a moment and understood.
Right.
Uncle He had no relation to him, yet he had invested so much in him over the years without expecting anything in return.
Even he himself hadn’t understood it at first. Hearing it from someone else, it was only natural they’d have doubts.
So he added another line: “Actually, the dean is quite pitiful. He once had a child who died in an accident. Sometimes when he looks at me, he probably sees that child’s shadow.”
Shi Yuan embellished the story to play up the sympathy.
He made it sound like he was a replacement, but in reality, when Uncle He’s child died, his own parents hadn’t even met yet!
But the logic wasn’t wrong!
Uncle He treated him so well—better than his own child.
Shi Yuan wasn’t sure if saying this would work. Hawthorne remained silent after listening, but it was clear he wasn’t in a good mood, as the temperature around him suddenly dropped several degrees. Walking along the road, Shi Yuan felt a chilling wind everywhere—it was terrifying!
The two walked back to the dorm in silence until Hawthorne finally spoke: “I’m going out for a bit, to the supermarket to buy some things.”
Shi Yuan watched him leave, secretly delighted.
As soon as Hawthorne was gone, he repeated his old trick—carrying his bedsheets and blankets to Hawthorne’s room to lay out a makeshift bed on the floor. Then he went to the bathroom, filled a basin halfway with water, and without hesitation, splashed it onto his own mattress.
After finishing all this, Shi Yuan clapped his hands, stood by the bed with his hands on his hips, feeling triumphant.
This bed wouldn’t dry for three to five days. Hawthorne, along with his bed, was now completely at his mercy.
Hawthorne returned, carrying a case of water.
Shi Yuan sat up in a flash, poking his head out the door and calling out: “My bed accidentally got wet. I’ll borrow your floor to sleep on for a couple of days.”
Hawthorne happened to pass by Shi Yuan’s bedroom.
Shi Yuan had deliberately left the door wide open, making the situation inside completely visible.
The bedsheets and blankets weren’t wet—only the mattress was.
Did he think he was stupid?
Hawthorne didn’t expose Shi Yuan. Just as he was about to turn away, he suddenly paused, rooted to the spot.
He had never entered Shi Yuan’s bedroom before.
So why was the layout inside exactly the same as the details in his dream?
Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, Hawthorne kept his expression neutral. He carried the water back to his room, took a bottle from the case, turned around, and handed it to Shi Yuan.
Shi Yuan’s eyes lit up instantly: “It’s electrolyte water.”
Uncle He had reminded him earlier to replenish electrolytes after severe vomiting, but he hadn’t gotten around to buying any yet.
“You’ve seemed nauseous these past couple of days,” Hawthorne said. “Drinking this might help.”
Shi Yuan happily took the water, his fondness for Hawthorne rising several notches.
Not “seemed”—he definitely was.
Thank goodness he had Hawthorne, his human anti-nausea pill, or he would have vomited to death long ago.
Hawthorne carried the remaining water and casually asked Shi Yuan: “Where do you usually keep your water?”
Shi Yuan blurted out: “By the bed…”
Hawthorne raised an eyebrow.
Shi Yuan abruptly shut his mouth.
He usually placed unfinished water bottles by the bed.
That’s how it was arranged the last time Hawthorne entered his room—he remembered it so clearly because Hawthorne had almost tripped over one of the bottles.
So was Hawthorne testing him?
Shi Yuan’s eyes darted around as he cleverly corrected himself: “…on the desk by the bed.”
That was close—he almost gave everything away!
Hawthorne nodded, not pressing further, his expression seeming indifferent.
This made Shi Yuan start to wonder if he was being overly sensitive.
After putting the water away, Hawthorne returned to his desk, turned on a desk lamp, opened a book, and began reading.
After finishing the water, Shi Yuan felt much more comfortable, but his eyelids began to droop on their own.
Fortunately, he didn’t need to approach Hawthorne to suppress his nausea for the time being. He collapsed onto the floor bedding and soon fell into a deep sleep.
Gradually, the only sounds left in the room were the rustling of turning pages and his steady, even breathing.
Hawthorne set down his book, quietly dimmed the desk lamp, and silently walked over to the bedding. He bent down and lifted Shi Yuan into his arms.
In his sleep, Shi Yuan instinctively tightened his arms, firmly holding onto Hawthorne’s arm, sleeping soundly.
Hawthorne gently placed him on the bed, his gaze drifting down and slowly settling on Shi Yuan’s abdomen.
After a long while, Hawthorne finally reached out and lifted the hem of Shi Yuan’s shirt.
Under the dim light, Hawthorne’s emerald-green eyes calmly reflected a glimpse of smooth, fair skin on his waist and abdomen.
There was not a single tattoo on his belly.