Wen Xiuyun approached him step by step, his normally gentle and elegant countenance clouded by a layer of gloom born of dissatisfaction. His eyes were filled with an intense bewilderment, as if he truly could not fathom why Pei Yisheng was rejecting him.
What reason did Pei Yisheng have to refuse?
He was no longer the Young Master Pei who spent money like water and lived at the center of everyone’s attention. The current Pei Yisheng couldn’t afford a villa halfway up the mountain, had no luxury cars to ferry him around, and had to grit his teeth and save money from part-time jobs just to afford a breakfast at Xianwei Pavilion. When life was this difficult, what did that bit of backbone kept in his heart actually count for?
Wen Xiuyun could not understand Pei Yisheng’s persistence. All those efforts would, in the end, only make life slightly more bearable. He watched coldly from the sidelines, simply waiting for the moment Pei Yisheng could no longer hold on, waiting for him to come seeking help.
At that time, he would tell Pei Yisheng: to gain, one must sacrifice. By sacrificing himself, Pei Yisheng could return to the life of a spendthrift rich kid, living as wantonly as before.
Who could resist such a temptation? Never mind someone who had fallen from the clouds even an ordinary person experiencing a sudden shift from wealth to poverty wouldn’t be able to endure it.
In his eyes, Pei Yisheng’s obstinacy was merely a game of playing hard to get, a practiced pose.
A predatory intensity flickered in Wen Xiuyun’s eyes. Whether Pei Yisheng truly intended to rely on himself or was just pretending, Wen Xiuyun didn’t care anymore. As long as the person belonged to him, wouldn’t that be enough?
Stunned and struggling to think, Pei Yisheng was pressed back step by step until he had no room left to retreat. Only when his thighs hit the desk did he suddenly raise both hands to maintain a distance between himself and Wen Xiuyun.
“Stop… don’t come any closer, Wen Xiuyun!”
Wen Xiuyun curled his lip. “And what if I insist?”
Pei Yisheng gritted his teeth. “Then I happen to know a bit of martial arts!”
Wen Xiuyun’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What a coincidence. So do I.”
Pei Yisheng knew in his heart his chances of winning were slim. Rather than a confrontation where both sides got hurt and his part-time job was jeopardized, it was better to pull the conversation back to reality.
“Wen Xiuyun, you might have misunderstood. I have no intention of being with anyone. Right now, I only want to study and work hard. I have no thoughts of considering anything else. If I ever sent you the wrong signals at any point, then I am sorry it was not my intention.”
Pei Yisheng’s gaze was clear and honest, his expression serious, and his posture defensive. Wen Xiuyun could not detect a single hint of romantic ambiguity.
“As for you and Song Wen, both of you are very good as friends. I will always remember the fever medicine you gave me when I was sick.”
Wen Xiuyun went silent for a moment, then let out a contemptuous laugh. “Pei Yisheng, don’t think that just because you say this, I’ll let you off the hook.”
“Whatever.” Pei Yisheng had nothing left to say to him. If Wen Xiuyun intended to use force, he would let him know that he, too, possessed strength.
The oden (Japanese one-pot dish) had gone cold during the confrontation. The once clear broth now had a layer of oil floating on the surface. Looking at it, Pei Yisheng lost his appetite and left it on the table.
Ignoring the other man, he took his pajamas from the wardrobe. Before entering the bathroom, he carefully checked the door lock, only heading inside to shower once he was certain it was secure.
Wen Xiuyun stared at him the entire time. Seeing Pei Yisheng so guarded, he almost laughed out of anger. He wasn’t that low-life Song Wen; he wouldn’t do something so classless.
As the sound of running water started in the bathroom, Wen Xiuyun’s dissatisfied gaze landed on the cold bowl of oden. He still remembered the cheerful sound of Pei Yisheng’s voice when he entered the room, and the almost coquettish tone he used when asking him to take the oden.
He thought he didn’t care, but the truth was, he was currently dying of jealousy.
Wen Xiuyun fought to suppress his temper to keep from throwing the bowl of oden away.
The more he looked at it, the angrier he became. Finally, Wen Xiuyun slammed the door and left.
When Pei Yisheng came out of the shower, he was dressed impeccably, covered from head to toe. Seeing the empty dormitory, he breathed a sigh of relief and locked the door from the inside. Though his other roommates could still enter, it was better than nothing.
He curled himself into a ball and tucked into his blankets, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
Song Wen and Fang Xin were clearly following the plot, so why did things go so sideways with Wen Xiuyun?
He couldn’t figure out where the problem lay. Was it because the way Fang Xin first met Wen Xiuyun was wrong? He tried hard to replay the events of that morning in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more he felt the problem was right there what normal person would like someone who “extorted” them?
Of course, he wasn’t saying Fang Xin intended to extort him, nor was he saying Wen Xiuyun was a “normal” person, but the result was what it was: Wen Xiuyun and Fang Xin only had the relationship of a creditor and a patient.
Pei Yisheng bit his lip, thinking hard about how to get the plot back on track.
Amidst these thoughts, he eventually fell asleep in his warm bed.
Though he slept, it was not a peaceful rest. His dreams were a chaotic mess, like a frantic escape through a supernatural “infinite flow” world. In the panic, he saw a familiar door. Pushing it open, he found himself in their dormitory. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, a tall body pressed against him from behind.
An arm curved slightly across his front, easily locking his waist. A high-bridged nose pressed against the back of his ear, a cool sensation shifting and rubbing there. He couldn’t help but stretch his neck, making it easier for the person to continue. He wanted to struggle, but the “dream version” of him had no strength; even his vision was blurred, though he couldn’t tell if it was from tears or sweat.
“Baby, do you like the dress?”
“The boning is too stiff, let me remove it for you.”
Deft fingers lifted the hem of his clothes, kneading with force. He felt a mix of pain and pleasure, making sounds that were indistinguishable between begging for mercy or asking for more. In a daze, he heard the other person’s low, deep chuckle. He couldn’t resist turning back to look, only to see a pair of eyes as fierce as a wild beast.
Pei Yisheng woke up with a start and sat there in a daze.
He hadn’t had this dream in a long time. When he first transmigrated into the book, he dreamt it often. The scenes were mostly the same, and he had assumed it was a side effect of entering an adult manga world. Aside from having to wash his underwear more often which made him feel like a pervert and a bit of neurasthenia, it hadn’t had a major impact on him.
Moreover, since he hadn’t had the nightmare in so long, he hadn’t realized the dream hadn’t stopped it had simply been “upgrading” itself! After holding back for so long, the dream’s scenery had become detailed, the characters were clearer, and it even added dialogue. Pei Yisheng felt too ashamed to reminisce. Did he actually… want to be in a relationship?
No, something was wrong. Dammit, this couldn’t be a prophetic dream, could it?!
The thought struck Pei Yisheng like a lightning bolt, making his skin crawl.
The setting of the dream was his dormitory. Could the person in the dream be his roommate? But his roommates were all the “Lead Gongs” (top/pursuer characters)! Even if the characteristics matched, was that even right?!
Wen Xiuyun was already abnormal, and Qin Zhou didn’t look like a criminal type, leaving only Song Wen as the lone pillar supporting the adult manga plot. So the story had already developed into this state… Pei Yisheng finally stopped deceiving himself. He collapsed onto the bed in agony, unable to believe it.
Qin Zhou, who had been home for the night, opened the door and walked in, only to hear Pei Yisheng’s suppressed, pained wailing from the bed. He didn’t give the other man any space to process his emotions, walking straight to the head of the bed and knocking. “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”
Swish—
Pei Yisheng threw back the bed curtain. “Qin Zhou, do you have someone you like?”
Qin Zhou glanced at his face, which was flushed pink from his wailing. He nodded with a slight delay. “Yes.”
Pei Yisheng stared at him with wide eyes, so Qin Zhou was forced to continue. “It’s the one I mentioned to you that day, the girl with long hair.”
Pei Yisheng wanted to cry again. Wen Xiuyun was already hard enough to deal with; if Qin Zhou ever found out that he was that long-haired girl, he would be truly finished. He had to keep his secret identity tightly under wraps.
His sadness was so obvious that Qin Zhou couldn’t ignore it. “Why are you asking?”
“It’s nothing, just asking for a friend.”
“As everyone knows, ‘I have a friend.'” The phrase Lin Jiahu often used when gossiping about wealthy family dramas popped into Qin Zhou’s head. His gaze landed on the corner of Pei Yisheng’s eye, which was still damp. “Tell your friend not to be too upset. I’m not suitable for him.”
“Okay, I get it.”
Pei Yisheng fell back onto the bed, staring powerlessly at the ceiling. His heart was completely dead.
He didn’t know if it was too late to withdraw from the New Year’s Day performance. If Qin Zhou saw that, would he still be able to keep his secret?
That evening, after finishing his classes, he dragged his exhausted body toward the rehearsal classroom. Passing by an office, he happened to overhear teachers chatting through a crack in the door. They were saying the school was going to adjust several regulations for instance, the convenient conditions provided to the “second-generation” elites over the past few years. They had been discussing it in meetings for days, and the implementation was expected as early as next semester.
Pei Yisheng’s head buzzed. He immediately perked up, throwing himself into rehearsal with renewed vigor as if he’d been injected with adrenaline.
He had to seize this opportunity to move off-campus. This dormitory was too dangerous let the Lead Gongs live there!
Pei Yisheng’s rehearsal today was full of emotion and coordinated movement. He responded actively to the teacher’s instructions and was heavily praised. While revising the script, the teacher specifically added a few lines for him, expressing great confidence and saying the burden of winning glory for the college rested on their shoulders.
The teacher “drew a few big cakes” (made grand promises), and the students ate them up hungrily.
The moment Pei Yisheng received his new lines, his only thought was: Buddha bless me, Qin Zhou and the others have their own arrangements for the New Year’s Eve gala, they must not come to watch the school’s performance!
“Shengsheng, why are you spacing out? Let’s go, it’s going to snow in a bit.” Su Yiyi put on his down jacket and wrapped his scarf, pulling Pei Yisheng along as he prepared to run. Having lived in the south before, he rarely saw snow, let alone a fresh snowfall. He had been looking forward to the snow mentioned in the weather forecast since morning.
Pei Yisheng, dressed like a little penguin, was dragged along. “Slow down, no rush. If it really snows, it’ll last a long time and pile up thick.”
The first snow of the winter was very cooperative. Before they were halfway back to the dorm, snowflakes began brushing against their faces.
The tiny snowflakes were cool and refreshing, waking him up as they hit his skin.
Pei Yisheng reached out his hand to catch a few. Before he could count how many points the snowflakes had, they vanished into his palm.
Su Yiyi was already frolicking beside him like a monkey from Mount Emei, hooting wordlessly and sharing photos frantically.
Caught up in the mood, Pei Yisheng took a photo too. He scrolled through WeChat for a long time, his finger hovering over the “share” option, unable to bring himself to press it.
Just as he was about to give up, the snow suddenly grew heavier. Large flakes fell like goose feathers, instantly blurring his phone screen. He instinctively went to wipe it off, but his finger brushed the share option, and the photo was sent out.