He stood at the entrance of the dormitory building.
Chu Yao's silhouette grew increasingly distant, her shadow like a sprite, leaping and dancing across the ground.
Zhou Wenshi could still recall holding the soft pillow, its warm fragrance tangling with his breath, lingering around him.
His face flushed with heat before he could react.
In his chest, his heart pounded for a long while before slowly settling.
He carried the pillow back to the dormitory, acting as if nothing had happened.
Feng Yao had just finished washing his hair and stepped out, glancing over casually.
Zhou Wenshi sat at his desk with lowered eyes, lost in thought. He wasn't typing away at code like he usually loved to do—he was like a statue.
Feng Yao shook his head.
People in love were truly terrifying.
Better to stay single.
Nearby, Zhang Lu had started belting out "Love Until Death" again—pure noise pollution. Feng Yao closed his eyes in agony.
When would this heartbreak ever end?
If Zhang Lu kept howling like that, Feng Yao figured he'd lose a few years off his life.
It was a wonder Zhou Wenshi could stay immersed in his passionate romance, tuning out the external racket.
Under the harsh white glow of the fluorescent light, Zhou Wenshi appeared a shade paler than usual. His slender lashes fell like beautiful wings, and his lips were coated with a subtle sheen.
Chen Ping glanced over and felt his eyes stabbed by Zhou Wenshi's devastating good looks again—even his game lost its appeal.
Zhou Wenshi, still lost in the memories of today, suddenly rose and headed to the bathroom.
Hot water cascaded down.
It soaked his body as steam rose.
The steam blurred his brows and eyes, softening the cold clarity of his features, veiling the emotions in his ink-dark eyes. His lips parted slightly, the cupid's bow so pronounced it seemed made to be caught between lips, kissed without restraint.
He thought back to today at the hotel—how he had… reacted just because Chu Yao called his name.
Zhou Wenshi's gaze drifted downward, toward a place he normally never paid attention to.
…Why did he react like that just because Chu Yao called his name?
The feeling was too strange.
In that instant, his mind had gone eerily blank, and he hadn't snapped out of it right away.
By the time he registered what had happened, he realized his body was burning up, and he was feeling somewhat…
Zhou Wenshi had never imagined he would have such a reaction.
For the first time in his life, he felt at a loss.
In the bathroom, he could only rinse himself with cold water again and again, waiting for the reaction to subside.
Hot water streamed over his pale, cold-toned skin.
Zhou Wenshi's heartbeat was erratic—because of the embarrassing situation from earlier that day, and because he realized he was now… feeling something even stronger than before.
His beautiful lashes trembled.
Why was he having this reaction, and… this shameful… sensation even more intense than during the day?
Were human physiological responses really this uncontrollable? Or was it because, within this reaction, he'd thought of the person connected to it, making it even stronger?
Wave after wave of shame washed over Zhou Wenshi.
His thoughts slipped beyond his control, almost eagerly weaving together the image of a face he didn't want anyone to see in this disheveled state.
Chu Yao.
If she saw him like this, would she think he lacked self-restraint?
Zhou Wenshi had been bold enough to invite her to touch him, but when it came to himself, he couldn't quite get past this hurdle.
He was almost flustered.
Zhou Wenshi could only try to redirect his attention, waiting for the reaction to fade.
Outside the door, Chen Ping knocked, his voice muffled through the hazy mist of water: "Zhou Wenshi, you've been in there forever. Nothing wrong, is there? It's been over forty minutes—don't tell me you've collapsed in there. Hey, make a sound or something?"
Zhou Wenshi jolted with a start, let out a breath, and forced himself to sound calm: "…Still here."
Chen Ping: "What was that? Didn't catch it. As long as I heard you reply, you're fine. I was about to discuss contingency plans for an accident with Feng Yao."
Chen Ping walked away.
Zhou Wenshi had no reaction either. Interrupted and forcibly cut off, the darkness in his eyes deepened, his lips pressed into a thin line, cold and visibly displeased.
He only felt a lingering fire that hadn't dissipated.
The bathroom door opened.
Chen Ping glanced back inadvertently and was chilled by his expression. He nudged Feng Yao, asking with his eyes: What's going on?
Feng Yao was puzzled. He glanced toward Zhou Wenshi, got pricked by the coldness too, and quickly averted his gaze.
He shrugged and shook his head: No idea.
Who the hell knew why Zhou Wenshi looked so displeased.
If it were anyone else, Feng Yao would guess it was unfulfilled desire. But Zhou Wenshi—he'd never seen the guy do any "manual work," always kept clean and fresh, collar buttoned all the way up.
From observation, Zhou Wenshi's routine was stable, and he was disciplined. Apart from dating and spending time with his girlfriend, nothing else had changed.
Looking this displeased, he must have run into a tough problem.
That made sense.
When it came to academics, they couldn't help.
Although everyone in the dorm was a top scholar, valedictorian, or competition-recommended admit, there were still gaps between people.
Zhou Wenshi's brain was far better than theirs.
Feng Yao and Chen Ping conceded defeat and didn't compete with him academically.
Honestly, they couldn't out-compete these beasts!
The worst part was that even Chen Ping, that beast, studied more easily than him!
Feng Yao started feeling annoyed at Chen Ping too.
Chen Ping: ?
What the hell, who did I piss off?
He went back to slaughtering in his game.
Die for me!
Zhou Wenshi put on his earbuds and propped the tablet on the small table stand.
On WeChat, it was paused at a message he'd sent fifty minutes ago to Chu Yao: "Arrived at the dorm."
She replied thirty minutes later: "I'm back too~" [Laughing joyfully emoji]
Chu Yao loved using stickers, especially cat stickers.
Zhou Wenshi: "I've showered. Going to sleep soon."
It was almost eleven now—time for her to rest.
Zhou Wenshi waited a moment, and sure enough, there was no instant reply.
He pulled up split-screen, keeping the WeChat interface on one side so he could see incoming messages at any time.
First, he searched for a social app designed for women. After downloading, he registered and logged in, then typed his first question.
[Why won't my girlfriend let me eat her leftovers?]
The answers were all over the place. Zhou Wenshi found none useful and filtered out the ones saying "You eat your girlfriend's leftovers? Is something wrong with you?" and "Bro, don't be so whipped."
Clearly, these people didn't have girlfriends and had no idea how great girlfriends were.
Such answers weren't worth referencing.
Then, he seriously typed a new question: [My girlfriend said she wants me to be her dog. What's the best way to do it?]
He didn't know when Chu Yao would want to see it, but if he was going to learn, he had to learn well.
Based on his own understanding, Zhou Wenshi could only think that dogs wag their tails when they see their owners, are absolutely loyal, follow their owners, leap into their arms, and let themselves be played with.
But he didn't have a tail.
There was no way for him to wag his tail when he saw Chu Yao.
He looked thoughtful.
Should he buy a tail?
What kind of tail would Chu Yao like?
This fell into Zhou Wenshi's knowledge blind spot.
No matter. He would learn. His learning ability was pretty good.
Zhou Wenshi selected meticulously, referencing netizens' answers, synthesizing the information he wanted in his mind, and ultimately not only asked the question but also sent over the decision-making choice.
Zhou Wenshi: Which one do you like? It's fine if you like them all, and it's also fine if you don't like any.
Zhou Wenshi: [Image album]
Still no instant reply—she should have gone to sleep.
Zhou Wenshi wasn't in a hurry. He added the items he'd seen to his cart and continued swimming in the ocean of learning.
An hour passed, and he had learned a lot.
But there were also many things he believed he didn't need to learn—things he already knew.
For example, being obedient, checking in, keeping distance from the opposite sex, and spending money on his girlfriend.
…Chu Yao didn't like spending his money.
Zhou Wenshi noticed that she liked to settle everything clearly. He wanted to spend on her, but couldn't get the money out.
Netizens also mentioned: [If a girlfriend doesn't spend her boyfriend's money, it's because she's worried that spending a poor man's money will get it reclaimed later.]
They even gave an example of eight-mao dumplings.
After reading it, Zhou Wenshi was very puzzled.
People like that could also have… girlfriends?
Someone who wasn't willing to give anything could have a girlfriend?
Zhou's father often told him.
Once you're in a relationship, you can't be stingy with your girlfriend. Spend what you should, and if it's not enough, ask the family for more.
Anyway, the family didn't have big money, but small money was still sufficient.
Zhou Wenshi had participated in various competitions since childhood and published papers. His prize money alone added up to quite a lot.
Even without using his family's money, he wasn't short on funds—he could cover all his living expenses.
His current monthly discretionary spending limit was in the five figures.
His personal savings had already reached six figures.
He really couldn't understand.
Why some people wouldn't spend even a few hundred or thousand on their girlfriends—those weren't even large amounts.
If Chu Yao were willing, he could set his savings account to be exclusively for her spending.
If it was spent, it was spent. If it ran out, he'd earn more.
He wanted to spend money on his girlfriend but had no chance, yet these people didn't cherish it at all.
Zhou also refused to be categorized in the same gender group as these people.
Truly shameful.
The negative examples Zhou Wenshi had searched up tonight really opened his eyes.
He could only comment that it was the diversity of the human species.
Besides the negative examples, he also noticed that many netizens mentioned role-playing.
Role-playing?
The content Zhou Wenshi searched up opened the door to a new world again, and his face turned a bit red.
"…Would she like that?"
Zhou Wenshi accidentally clicked into some pornographic webpage, all filled with blush-inducing, heart-racing content marked with an H.
He: "…"
He had only accidentally opened a neighboring article, and the opening screen hit him like a shock, his body heat skyrocketing, his face red enough to drip blood.
…Did this kind of content also need to be studied?
He suppressed his shame, maintained a learning attitude, and slowly but seriously browsed through it all.
Th-this kind of… did it really conform to human physiology?
Doing it for three days and three nights?
Zhou Wenshi couldn't imagine it—wouldn't the human body really give out?
He merely substituted his girlfriend's face in, and his whole body tensed up. No, he simply couldn't imagine her becoming such an indecent character in there.
But…
If she asked, he—he would also do his best.
Could he—could he really stay with his girlfriend for three days, doing it every day, every single day…?
Zhou Wenshi couldn't look directly at the blush-inducing content inside, his lip bead nearly pressed flat from his biting.
If—if it was with Chu Yao, actually… he wouldn't refuse.
Not only would he not refuse—whatever she told him to do, he would do.
Then—then would she reward him, kiss him?
Inside, the female lead rewards the male lead by sitting on his face.
If she were to sit on his face too—
Zhou Wenshi was so embarrassed that his fingertips curled inward, his beautiful lashes trembling as he dared not look directly at the content on the screen.
His ears were red enough to bleed, and even the sides of his neck had flushed pink.
By accident, his elbow brushed against the soft throw pillow, and he caught sight that it happened to be the one his girlfriend had hugged.
Zhou Wenshi's mind went blank.
…He was getting aroused.
All he could do was bury his face in the pillow his girlfriend had hugged, pressing against the bead of his upper lip, enduring the rising heat as his whole body tensed up.
He called out in his heart.
A'Yao… A'Yao…
Like a poor little dog unable to get comfort from his girlfriend, the rims of his eyes turned red, and he made no sound.
He could only rub his face against the spot where his girlfriend had hugged the pillow.
His memory had always been excellent—he knew exactly which spot it was.
Back then, the pillow had just happened to be pressed against her private area.
She had been hugging it, her chin resting on top of the pillow.
Zhou Wenshi's mind grew hazy, as if he were once again enveloped by his girlfriend's warm fragrance.
She had held him.
He buried his face into it.
…She smelled so good.
"Woo—"
Chu Yao pushed back her wet, long hair and adjusted the heat setting. The hair dryer buzzed as it started working.
The hot air blew into her damp hair, the ends still dripping water.
Someone in the dorm was talking, but she couldn't make out the words.
Her eyelids were starting to droop. Chu Yao realized she was getting sleepy—at this hour, barring any accidents, she would normally have been asleep long ago.
She was used to going to bed early.
She used to stay up late, but one mission had forcibly broken her of that habit.
That mission had been to play a Blood Clan member.
She had been forced to switch from a human's schedule to a Blood Clan's schedule.
It had given her a face of pure agony.
On the surface, she was a Blood Clan member, her body was a Blood Clan's, but inside, she was human, and her habits were human habits too.
You can imagine how painful that was.
After the mission ended, she slept for a long, long time.
Ever since then, she never stayed up late again—she had truly been scared out of it.
The mere words "staying up late" not giving her a stress reaction was already pretty good.
Chu Yao credited this to the fact that her mental fortitude was indeed strong, and she had the makings of a true powerhouse.
But being a powerhouse was too tiring.
Too many things to manage, too many schemes to plot, exhausting both mind and body, and you still needed the hard strength to suppress an entire region.
After all, occasionally, when reason couldn't get through to someone, you had to know a little fist-fu.
There were always people who had neither brains nor decency.
Only overwhelming force could "convince" them through virtue.
One strike that could destroy heaven and earth, and no matter how irrational they were, they'd quickly snap back to reason.
They'd realize that it wasn't that they couldn't read the room—it was that they had to read the right person.
Too tiring.
Unless absolutely necessary, she didn't want to do a powerhouse's job at all. Better to just be a salted fish.
Do whatever you want, with zero pressure, and there's always someone taller to take the fall.
Click.
Chu Yao felt her hair and found it dry. She turned off the hair dryer. Time to sleep, time to sleep.
She embraced her bed, her blanket.
Goodnight, world.
…Wait, it didn't seem like a complete goodnight, because why was she seeing Zhou Wenshi?
Not far away, he stood alone under a tree. There weren't many pedestrians on the road, yet Chu Yao could somehow see an air of carefree elegance in him.
The sunlight cast a heavy halo around him.
Zhou Wenshi seemed to be glowing.
He suddenly looked over at her.
Strange—even though they were so far apart, she could clearly make out his cool, distant features, the bead of his lip moving as he spoke, and…
The cold fragrance radiating from him.