Chapter 34: What Improper Thoughts

On Thursday evening during the public elective class, the lights in the large classroom were blindingly bright, with a line of course title projected onto the screen—”Film Appreciation.”

When Ji Xu entered the classroom, he habitually swept a glance toward the back, originally intending to find a corner seat to curl up in; as a result, his gaze fell on the seat against the wall in the third row from the back, where a familiar tall figure was already seated, a notebook spread open in front of him.

Ji Xu froze for a moment.

He had not consulted anyone when choosing this course, purely because he saw keywords like “easy,” “high grade after completion,” and “no exam” in the course description and randomly checked it, completely not expecting that Yuan Hanfei would also appear here.

He walked over carrying his backpack and sat down in the empty seat next to Yuan Hanfei; the other person tilted his head over to take a look, his expression changing from slight surprise at recognizing the visitor to a smile with a raised eyebrow: “You selected this course too?”

“You selected this course too?” The two opened their mouths at the same time, and after speaking, both paused simultaneously.

Ji Xu placed his backpack on the tabletop, feeling in his heart that this kind of coincidence was quite subtle; clearly living in the same dormitory seeing each other every single day, even a thing like selecting courses could collide together.

Yuan Hanfei had already withdrawn his gaze, lowering his head to take a sip of coffee, the arc at the corners of his eyes curved, obviously also finding this matter somewhat interesting.

The teacher was a middle-aged man with slightly graying hair, who spoke at a slow and gentle pace, briefly introducing the overall arrangement of the course—broadcasting a movie every week, writing a short review after class, and submitting a comprehensive report at the end of the term.

The rest of the time would be used to play movies.

The lights were dimmed, and opening pictures began to appear on the projection screen.

Probably due to the teacher’s older age, the films selected were indeed very old, mostly black-and-white films with an occasional few colored art films, the pace slow like a person taking an afternoon nap in the sun.

What was being played in this class was a black-and-white movie about a postman and a distant island; the picture was quiet and plain, with the soundtrack consisting only of sparse piano sounds, occasionally mixed with the sound effect of ocean waves slapping against reefs.

After the classroom lights were turned off, the entire space only had the flickering light on the screen left.

Ji Xu watched for about a dozen minutes, and his eyelids began to sink downward.

The pace of old movies was too slow; the postman in the picture rode a bicycle along the coastline to deliver letters, and a single shot could last half a minute, causing his attention to gradually drift away from the screen; his phone was quietly picked up by him beneath the tabletop, the screen brightness adjusted to the lowest setting, and the chat software clicked open.

Beside him, Yuan Hanfei was already lying flat on the desk less than twenty minutes after the movie started.

His head rested on his crossed arms, his side profile facing Ji Xu’s direction, his breathing steady and long, his eyelashes quietly closed, clearly having plunged into a deep sleep without the slightest ceremony.

Ji Xu glanced sideways at him, did not wake him, and turned back to the phone screen.

Chu Siran’s message popped up just in time, a simple question: “You don’t have classes tomorrow morning, right?”

Ji Xu thought about his own schedule; Saturday morning was indeed open, but the entire weekend schedule was already fully occupied by the speech contest.

He typed back: “No can do, this week I have to prepare for the speech contest, probably won’t have that much time to play games.”

After sending it, he felt the tone seemed a bit too direct, so he added an emoji of a little figure rubbing its eyes.

“No problem,” Chu Siran replied very quickly, “Whenever you want to play, just call me.”

Ji Xu looked at that line of text, his thumb tapping the edge of the screen, and replied with a “Mhm-mhm, got it” and a cat nodding emoji.

He did not continue chatting further, turning his phone face down on the desk and tilting his head to look at the picture still slowly advancing on the screen; the postman finally finished delivering all the letters, sitting on the rocks by the sea gazing into the distance, the sound of the sea waves echoing in the empty classroom.

When the dismissal bell rang out, the lights in the classroom came back on, the incandescent light illuminating everyone’s face clearly.

Ji Xu tilted his head to look at Yuan Hanfei beside him; that person was still sleeping, motionless, his breathing even and steady, his eyelashes casting a small quiet shadow beneath his eyes.

Ji Xu reached out and patted his shoulder: “Yuan Hanfei, class is over.”

Yuan Hanfei merely knitted his brows, his eyelashes trembling slightly, without waking up.

Ji Xu reached out again and poked his face with a finger, the pad of his finger sinking into the soft skin and bouncing back: “Yuan Hanfei.”

This time Yuan Hanfei’s eyes slowly opened.

First blinking in confusion, his gaze drifted for a moment before refocusing, and then he saw that hand close at hand—Ji Xu’s finger hadn’t had time to pull back yet, hovering less than an inch in front of him.

Yuan Hanfei raised his eyes, following that hand up to Ji Xu’s face, the corners of his mouth gradually curling up, his voice carrying the raspiness of having just woken up and a slow, teasing tone: “Ji Xu, speak truthfully, do you have some improper thoughts about me?”

Ji Xu’s finger shrank back, a look of distaste surfacing on his face, his whole body leaning back against the chair to pull away a bit of distance: “We are both alphas, what improper thoughts could I possibly have about you.”

When he said this, his tone carried a matter-of-factness that asked “what absurd things are you talking about,” thinking in his heart: are omegas not fragrant enough, are betas not gentle enough, why would he have those kind of thoughts about an alpha roommate.

Yuan Hanfei had already sat straight up, but he was a good deal taller than Ji Xu, forming a visual sense of pressure just sitting there.

He leaned his body forward, both hands extending from either side to cupping Ji Xu’s face, thumbs pressing against his cheekbones, palms covering the warm skin of his cheeks, fixing Ji Xu’s face right in front of his line of sight.

The tips of their noses were almost touching, Yuan Hanfei’s breath brushing past Ji Xu’s upper lip, his voice suppressed very low: “Really not a single improper thought?”

Ji Xu’s face turned red in his palms at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Starting from the cheekbones, like a drop of red dripping into clear water, it rapidly spread to the tip of his nose, the ear rim, and the corners of his eyes, his entire face flushing with a layer of light pink heat.

His gaze flickered over Yuan Hanfei’s eyes close at hand and then quickly shifted away, his mouth opening and closing, his voice much smaller than before: “With you asking like this, it seems the one with improper thoughts is you.”

After saying this sentence, even he himself felt this counterattack was pale and weak, because his ears were hot like they were going to burn up, his fingers curling on his knees, completely losing the confidence of that distaste from earlier.

Yuan Hanfei looked at his thoroughly red face for two seconds, and then released his hands.

When his palms pulled back from Ji Xu’s cheeks, his fingertips lightly brushed past the tip of his ear, that movement being very fast, so fast that Ji Xu was uncertain if it was intentional.

“Alright,” Yuan Hanfei stood up, extending a hand toward Ji Xu, “Let’s go back to the dorm.”

Ji Xu looked down at that hand extended in front of him, hesitated for less than a second, and held it to leverage himself up.

Yuan Hanfei’s hand was larger than his, wrapping around his fingers and holding him as they walked out between the seats and out of the classroom.

The lights in the hallway were brighter than in the classroom; Ji Xu was held by the hand walking behind Yuan Hanfei’s side, looking at that broad back ahead and their two clasped hands hanging naturally by their side, thinking in his heart whether walking back to the dorm like this would be seen by acquaintances.

But on second thought, if seen then so be it, two alphas walking hand in hand on campus was no big deal either, nor was it something shameful.

He just followed Yuan Hanfei’s steps all the way out of the teaching building, the night wind blowing head-on dispersing some of the residual heat on his cheeks, yet the temperature of his fingertips held by Yuan Hanfei never cooled down.

The weekend speech preliminary round was on Saturday morning.

Ji Xu and He Lu went to the competition venue together; about fifty or sixty people were sitting in that large classroom in the Department of Literature, including contestants and spectators.

Ji Xu was scheduled in the middle to take the stage; standing on the podium, he took a deep breath, leveled his gaze, and when he opened his mouth, his voice was steady to the point that even he himself was a bit surprised.

The script was prepared by him three days in advance, the theme wrapped in an empty shell of “Future Education,” but stuffed with some of his own real thoughts inside, making his tone much more natural than reciting a script when reading it out.

He Lu went on stage a few turns after him; standing up there, his legs were noticeably shaking and his voice was tight, but he persevered through speaking the entire segment without getting stuck.

When the results came out on Sunday, both of their names were listed under the excellence award column.

There were six recipients of the excellence award in total, with a prize money of three hundred yuan, and the academic credits were secured as well.

Looking at the “Excellence Award” notation behind his name, Ji Xu felt that although this sum of money wasn’t much, it was at least the fruit of labor from a weekend, capable of adding a good meal for himself.

He took a photo of the announcement board and sent it to Rong Du; Rong Du replied with a row of clapping emojis and a “Our Ah Xu is so awesome,” and Ji Xu smiled looking at that message, putting his phone into his pocket.

The day after the speech ended, the anime club group chat exploded.

Qian Chenhe sent a string of urging messages and a detailed anime convention task allocation table in the group, and everyone instantly entered a combat-ready state.

Members responsible for costumes, props, video editing, copywriting publicity, and booth layout busy setting off with their respective tasks, and any club member without classes voluntarily ran to the activity room to help out.

The activity room was on the second floor of the University Student Activity Center; these past few days the lights were on from morning to night, with fabric, wigs, paint boxes, and semi-finished props spread across the floor, the air filled with the scent of hot melt glue and spray paint.

The tasks assigned to Ji Xu were relatively miscellaneous; wherever there was a shortage of hands, he would go there.

Helping people hand over scissors, holding up display boards for people, passing drinks to people, and under Qian Chenhe’s request, putting on several semi-finished clothes to stand in front of the mirror to be appraised by everyone, so that the person in charge of costumes could observe the pattern and tailoring from different angles.

Everyone said he was a natural clothes hanger, looking good in whatever he wore; Ji Xu was praised to the point of feeling a bit embarrassed, but still obediently walked over to take that piece of clothing when Shi Yu called him to “come try this on.”

That was a blue dress.

It wasn’t finished yet, with unhemmed raw edges along the skirt border, several safety pins pinned on the side of the waist, and the positions of the shoulder straps marked with chalk.

The color was that very true, high-saturation blue, the material thin and drape-heavy, touching with a tiny bit of cool and smooth feel.

When Ji Xu took it over, he froze for a moment: “I have to wear this?”

He raised his head to look at Shi Yu and Qian Chenhe; the expressions of both wrote “of course.”

Ji Xu took the dress and went to the simple fitting room partitioned off with a curtain in the corner of the activity room, slipping on that semi-finished blue dress inside.

The length of the skirt was roughly above the knees, the shoulder straps were narrow with only two fingers’ width, and the waist design was gathered very tightly; after pulling up the side zipper, he found that the circle around the waist was indeed a bit loose.

He parted the curtain and walked out, standing in front of the large mirror and turning sideways to look at his side profile contour; the blue dress matched quite well with his skin tone, the neck and shoulder lines outlined by the shoulder straps, exposing his collarbones and a small patch of chest.

Shi Yu walked to his side, squatted down to check the tailoring on the side of the waist, then stood up and stepped back half a step to gauge the overall look.

His fingers pressed against the side of Ji Xu’s waist, gently pinching it, folding the excess fabric inward: “The waist here still needs to be taken in a bit.”

His fingertips were pressed against Ji Xu’s waistline through the thin fabric, sensing the curve beneath.

Being touched by him, Ji Xu instinctively drew in a breath, tightening his stomach a bit.

He was thin to begin with, and after pulling in his abdomen, his waistline became even narrower; Shi Yu’s hand measured at the tightened position, nodding his head: “Mhm, this amount is about right.”

He withdrew his hand and stood up straight, looking at Ji Xu holding his breath with an anxious expression, unable to resist letting out a laugh, adding in a gentle tone: “Looks like Ji Xu, you’ll have to eat a bit less these next few days.”

Ji Xu released that breath, looking down at himself in the mirror; the blue dress and the tightened waistline made him look much slighter than usual.

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