Chu Yao pounded the blanket with no regard for her image, laughing without restraint, earning a glare +1 from Jiang Yuncheng, but she still went: "Pfft—"
Jiang Yuncheng turned her fluffy self toward Cheng Yunxiu, exaggeratingly baring her claws, and pounced over with an "awu" sound: "I won't allow you to be cold and heartless, Yunxiu baby!"
Cheng Yunxiu unhurriedly shifted her angle, letting Jiang Yuncheng's pounce land on empty air, sending her tumbling onto the soft quilt where she lay face-down and refused to get up.
Jiang Yuncheng mumbled: "Your baby can't get up anymore."
Only silence remained in the air.
Jiang Yuncheng wailed dryly: "Wuwuwu, none of you care about me, none of you love me anymore."
Cheng Yunxiu perfunctorily reached out with her other hand to ruffle her hair, paused, then couldn't help asking: "…How many days has it been since you washed this? It's oily."
She immediately withdrew her hand and wiped it with a wet wipe, cleaning it meticulously—she should never have touched it in the first place.
Jiang Yuncheng did a carp flip, relying purely on her core strength to spring from the bed to the floor, standing upright, a bit embarrassed: "Is it that oily? I only washed it yesterday."
She rubbed her hair roots, sliding down to the ends, and sure enough, there was a bit of oil on her fingertips. She couldn't help sighing: "My hair gets oily too easily. Even washing it every day doesn't help."
Chu Yao reached a hand down from the top bunk and waved it, then wriggled her way up using her shoulders and back, propping herself against the headboard. "I have an old remedy here that can treat oily hair. Yuncheng, when you have time, you can go to the pharmacy and get a dose. Wash with it a few times and it'll help regulate things."
She edited the herbs and quantities from memory on her phone, converted them to the dosages used in the current world, and sent them to Jiang Yuncheng.
Chu Yao asked in the 703 Family Group (8): Anyone want a remedy for regulating hair and suppressing oil? I've got one—I've posted it in the group.
Jiang Yuncheng picked up her phone to check, opened it, and found she couldn't understand it. Leaning against the doorframe, she asked curiously: "Chu Yao, does someone in your family work as a doctor?"
Chu Yao: "No, nobody in my family studied medicine. I read that remedy in a medical book, and it happens that I still remember it. Since it's been bothering you so much, I figured it might help."
Jiang Yuncheng was already overflowing with gratitude: "Love you, Chu Yao. This has been bothering me for so long. I'll go to the pharmacy tomorrow."
Chu Yao reminded her: "You should probably see a doctor first. Have them look over both the dosage and the herbs before you get them filled." Jiang Yuncheng: "Pfft, I trust you."
Chu Yao: "I'm touched, but I still recommend you have a professional take a look."
Jiang Yuncheng: "Deal."
Chu Yao withdrew her gaze.
The remedy was fine—it was something she'd learned from a Grand Physician master in an ancient Mini-world during one of her missions. It had been quite a while since then, and she wasn't sure if the dosage was still universally applicable.
She hadn't read medical texts in a long time.
Let a skill lie fallow for too long, and it grows rusty.
She had no intention of studying medicine in this lifetime. She wanted to do something else—she hadn't figured out what yet. For now, she'd just focus on her studies.
Only grades would never let her down.
Chu Yao had never imagined she'd actually love studying so much. She'd never had that kind of realization before.
…Then again, maybe it was because she was already financially free and could finally realize herself?
This lifetime stretched long ahead—she ought to have some kind of pursuit.
If one day she didn't feel like studying anymore, she could just stop. No need to force herself to be the best at everything.
The moment you put pressure on something you enjoy, it stops being fun.
Chu Yao suddenly remembered that in the evening, Zhou Wenshi had taken a photo for her. She opened WeChat—he hadn't sent it to her.
Chu Yao: Do you still have that photo?
Chu Yao: [Image][Image][Image][Image][Image]
Chu Yao: This is yours.
Chu Yao: [Reaches out] Mine.
In the photos, every single look Zhou Wenshi gave the camera was strikingly consistent—focused, concentrated, as if someone ahead was waiting for him.
There was the one where he made a silly fist-and-cute-face pose, the one where he casually glanced at the camera, the soft-lined, finely featured profile with a crisp nose bridge and lips and clearly defined contours, and the one where he turned back to look at her, his eyes full of spirit.
Even the photo of just his back seemed to be flanked by a welcoming crowd, set against a blazing sunset, so handsome he didn't look like someone from the real world.
Tall with long legs and perfect proportions, the moment he stood there, everyone else seemed to dim.
More like someone who didn't exist in reality, who had stepped straight out of a manga.
Chu Yao: "…"
The more she flipped through the photos, the more silent she became.
Seriously, how could someone look good in every single shot? It made her mediocre photography skills look like they were gilded.
She'd refused to believe it when she was taking the photos, but now she opened each one one by one, zooming in with a magnifying glass, and still couldn't find a single flaw.
Chu Yao thought to herself, it's honestly infuriating.
She wished she could live one day with Zhou Wenshi's face.
And now, even the person behind [Male Lead] was starting to irritate her.
[Male Lead]: [Photo][Photo][Photo]
Chu Yao: Huh? Wasn't there only one? When did you take three?
She was shocked to discover she'd never seen the last two.
One was of her suddenly looking to the side, with a white egret flying past behind her.
The sinking golden sunset seemed to favor her in that moment, a thin layer of red brushing across the tip of her nose, casting a faint blush on her face, as if she were walking through this serene and radiant world, a quiet orchid blooming in solitude.
Chu Yao was shocked again.
Damn! What kind of photography skills did Zhou Wenshi have? This was way too good! He made her look… almost as stunning as he himself was in his own photos?
Chu Yao looked at it twice more, then saved it with the utmost care. She'd have to look at her own beauty more often in the future.
There was also one of her side profile from behind, her skirt hem lifting as it was caught in that instant, making her look like a goddess who had fallen into a world full of brilliant colors.
Chu Yao: [Shocked]
Chu Yao: You take such beautiful photos!
Dorm 504, male building.
Chen Ping was playing games, Feng Yao was mooching off a roommate's late-night snack, and Zhang Lu was wailing a song—"Love Until Death"—with noise rolling everywhere.
Zhou Wenshi wore light blue neckband headphones, clearly set apart from them, his expression calm.
He sat in his chair, silent.
Chu Yao's compliments were mostly straightforward, spoken from the heart.
Just one glance at them, and he could recall how the setting sun had favored her eyes with an extra gentleness that evening.
In the camera frame, they were focused and full of affection.
His heart pounded—thump, thump, thump—with a powerful rhythm.
In that moment, he really, really wanted to lean in just a little closer, to share in that warm gaze that made him feel such an illusion.
And of course, if she felt the same way, that would be perfect.
Zhou Wenshi had never liked anyone before. He didn't know if everyone else felt the same way he did—that just being close made it impossible to hold back.
He wanted so badly to hold her hand.
Zhou Wenshi dialed a voice call.
The warmth of her presence seemed to surge toward him again, violently, through the connection.
Chu Yao: "Hello?"
Zhou Wenshi heard her warm voice.
It was like that time in the second cafeteria, when he followed the shared location, searching through the crowd for someone—and so many people weren't her.
He was getting closer to his target, weaving through the crowd until their avatars collided.
A girl with long, elegant hair sat in front of the fruit tea shop, still scanning the crowd for someone.
Her gaze happened to land on him.
He saw her too.
The day before, he had been sitting at the edge of the private booth while his roommates wailed about girls not liking them back, aggressively ordering bottles of drinks to vent their frustrations, each one howling like a ghost.
Suddenly, the door was knocked on.
A girl walked in with steps as light as if she were dancing, heading straight for him.
"Can I… add you on WeChat?"
Her gaze rested on him for two seconds, as if confirming something, before a smile spread across her face.
Her eyes were like a fox's, brimming with laughter. Her honey-colored lips drew closer, her breath warm, a low, gentle laugh like a winter sun.
"Please, please—can I apply to become your girlfriend?"
The smile that naturally flowed from her eyes was, inexplicably, a little lingering.
She leaned in very close, yet he didn't feel repulsed. Instead, he wanted to lean in and whisper secrets to her.
His voice dropped low: "Okay."
He pulled up his QR code screen. She swayed slightly, nearly tumbling into his lap. Just as he reached out, she moved faster, smoothly taking a seat beside him, radiating warmth toward him.
It seemed there was a faint, very faint fragrance that traveled up his hand, winding around him, clinging to him.
Zhou Wenshi's lips were filled with her warm scent.
She looked at him and smiled, something flickering in her eyes.
She paused in confusion for a moment, then stood up, her reaction half a beat slow as she scanned his code, exiting like a nimble dancer.
Zhou Wenshi suddenly realized.
He didn't even know who she was, yet he had already exchanged contact information with her.
He, all of a sudden, had a girlfriend.
Zhou Wenshi found that he didn't regret it. He just felt that tonight had been a bit impulsive, and he needed to calm down.
The next day, Zhou Wenshi received her message and met her in person.
He locked onto her figure and walked over without hesitation.
Even if there were a lot of people, he just… wanted to see her sooner.
Chu Yao didn't hear the familiar voice on the other end of the voice call.
What was Zhou Wenshi doing—calling her but not saying anything himself?
She thought he was really strange.
"If you're not going to talk, I'm hanging up."
Chu Yao waited two seconds and heard a low breathing sound again, tickling her eardrums.
Her expression turned odd. "If you're sick, go to the hospital. Or I can take you there—I know patients tend to be psychologically fragile."
"I'm not sick," Zhou Wenshi finally spoke through the long, noisy background noise, his voice a little low. "I just… miss you a bit."
Chu Yao: ?
She didn't believe it and was very puzzled: "Didn't we just part ways a few hours ago?"
"It's only been a few hours, right? Not a few months or years. How did you…" She was baffled, incredulous. "In just these few hours, you're already saying you miss me?"
"Do you have separation anxiety?"
Chu Yao couldn't quite understand what was going on in Zhou Wenshi's head, and she didn't really want to guess.
Mainly because they hadn't even known each other for that many days—where was all this longing coming from?
Chu Yao didn't get it.
Was it that people in love easily had their brains scrambled?
Zhou Wenshi's voice remained steady and composed, just softer: "Sorry. I really do miss you."
He was oddly polite about it, Chu Yao thought.
She searched for words, holding back for a while before finally saying: "…Fine, I got it. Message received."
She had originally wanted to reply with "I miss you too," but she couldn't say it. She really couldn't bring herself to say it.
For one, they weren't in the honeymoon phase of a relationship; for two, they weren't even really a couple; and for three, that kind of reply to a confession of longing didn't quite fit between her and Zhou Wenshi.
Chu Yao felt deeply awkward.
Actually, if she were facing a girl, she could still naturally coax and comfort her.
Words like "like," "love," "baby"—she could say them casually without meaning any of it.
But, but… Zhou Wenshi clearly didn't fall into that category.
She couldn't exactly treat the male lead like a girl and coax him that way—that would be strange no matter how she looked at it.
Chu Yao felt odd inside, her expression was odd too, and she was deeply conflicted. Finally, she said, "If you have something on your mind, or any worries, you can share them with me. I'm a very good listener, and I won't tell anyone else."
At this point, regardless of why the male lead had called over voice, since he'd already called, he probably had something to say.
Maybe there was something he needed to remind her about.
Chu Yao's patience was fairly decent.
She had plenty of time now to listen to the secrets in his heart.
And since she had nothing planned for the evening, even if he wanted to talk for two or three hours, she could stay with him.
Chu Yao felt she was already being quite considerate.
She was treating the male lead pretty well too.
Zhou Wenshi suddenly fell silent for a long while, but Chu Yao didn't hang up.
She started a topic: "Is someone singing over there? I can hear a bit of singing."
It was just… rather unpleasant to listen to.
Of course, there was no need to say something so hurtful—she had at least basic moral decency.
Just because she thought it sounded bad didn't mean she should stop the person from singing; they had the freedom to sing.
Chu Yao chose to respect it, and could only respect it.
Perhaps because she'd brought up a topic, the male lead actually replied calmly, "Yeah."
Then silence fell again, so Chu Yao had to start another topic: "Speaking of singing, how well do you sing?"
Zhou Wenshi: "I don't know. I rarely sing."
Chu Yao: "Oh… then I can listen sometime. Your voice is nice—as long as, as long as you can stay on tune, it should still be listenable."
Zhou Wenshi: "Mm, okay."
Clearly, he remembered what Chu Yao had said before, asking if he only ever said "mm" in daily conversation.
Chu Yao didn't notice: "Alright, so you're not sleepy now? I see the time is…"
She glanced at it: "Nine-thirty."
Zhou Wenshi: "No. Are you sleepy?"
Chu Yao: "Not yet. I can't fall asleep at this hour—at least not until after eleven."
"But if you have a lot you want to say, I don't have to sleep at eleven."
"Actually, I do stay up late sometimes. Don't put too much pressure on yourself. If you really have something to share with me, I can probably listen for a while."
Chu Yao didn't particularly like staying up late, but she didn't mind staying up for a person or a matter.
If someone had words that were hard to speak, perhaps she could be a key part of listening.
If just that one time could prevent some problems, then staying up that night would be well worth it.
She was only giving her time.
Zhou Wenshi hummed in acknowledgment, then said, "I… I'm fine."
And then—
"Sorry."
"Good night."
Finally, he said softly.
The atmosphere was fairly peaceful at this moment, and Chu Yao didn't detect any emotion in the male lead's voice. She just went, "Oh."
"Okay, good night."
She thought for a moment, then added, "Don't overthink things. Sweet dreams."
"Okay, I will."
The voice call ended.