Chapter 4: Four People, Five Misunderstandings

Lin Chuji put the belt back in its place, lifted the hem of his shirt, and quickly checked his body.

Aside from those two faint red marks on his wrists, there were no other traces.

 

But he was a light sleeper, and he had no memory of this at all—which at least meant he hadn’t been treated with excessive pain or humiliation.

 

Xie Yan: “Friend, I really don’t want to—”

Lin Chuji: “Last night, did you actually—”

They spoke at the same time and stopped at the same time.

Separated by the corner of the room, they couldn’t see each other’s faces, but each could sense the other looking.

 

Lin Chuji quickly regained his composure.

If he confronted Xie Yan directly and he really had done it, he would never admit it.

Besides, after the first mistaken misunderstanding, he needed to be extremely cautious before condemning anyone, so as not to cause another false alarm.

 

“Last night?”

Xie Yan caught the keyword and thought, Here we go again.

 

“Never mind.

I slept very well last night,” Lin Chuji said, swallowing his words.

 

Both had their own secrets, and the room fell silent once more.

 

To deal with his overbearingly controlling mother, Lin Chuji decided he had to coax Xie Yan into taking a photo together.

He regretted mentioning Xie Yan’s name earlier—if she later found out the face didn’t match the name, it would be even more troublesome.

But after this incident, he really couldn’t put on a polite expression.

He simply strode over to the guy standing by the door and shoved the box into his hand.

“A sports watch.

For you.”

 

Xie Yan had never seen anyone act so grumpy while giving a gift.

What a novelty.

 

He glanced at it, hands still in his pockets, and said in a rather arrogant tone, “Don’t want it.”

 

Lin Chuji looked at him calmly.

“Why?”

 

Xie Yan reached out, tapped the words on the box with his fingertip, and teased, “Monitors your body indices in real time.

You’re kind of a pervert.

You’re that interested in my internal organs too?”

“…You’re overthinking it.”

Lin Chuji was genuinely speechless.

Before coming, he had wanted to leave a good impression on his roommate.

How did this carefully chosen gift turn into something so dirty the moment it reached Xie Yan’s mouth?

 

Xie Yan still didn’t move.

Stubborn as a mule.

 

After nearly half a minute of standoff, Lin Chuji withdrew his hand and tried to ease the tension.

“Fine, forget the gift.

Let’s just take the photo.

One is enough.”

 

Xie Yan was amazed by his willingness to humble himself—especially the way his eyelashes drooped, which was truly pitiful.

He started to wonder if he was being unreasonable.

As Lin Chuji had said, they would be strangers after six days.

Wanting a memento wasn’t too much to ask.

Giving this gift was surely an attempt to recreate the memory of exchanging love tokens.

Kind of pathetic, when he thought about it.

 

Xie Yan grabbed his hair in frustration again and relented.

“Give it to me.”

 

Lin Chuji had no idea what was going on in his head and looked confused.

 

Xie Yan didn’t explain further.

He opened the box, took out the watch, turned it on, and fastened it on his wrist.

The screen immediately displayed his heart rate—nearly 120.

 

Lin Chuji stated the obvious: “Your heart is beating very fast.”

 

Xie Yan scoffed.

That’s because I’m pissed off at you.

Damn this lousy watch, exposing my privacy.

 

He grabbed the camera from the cabinet, still sharp-tongued: “Finally get to take a photo with you, and I’m excited, alright?

I’ll print this out, frame it, hang it on the wall, and after we part, I’ll miss your lovely voice and appearance for three years and another three.”

 

Lin Chuji thought for a moment, then couldn’t help correcting him: “That phrase is for the deceased.”

 

Xie Yan glanced sideways.

“Can’t you tell that’s sarcasm?”

 

Lin Chuji: “………..”

 

As he followed behind into the elevator, he indignantly ordered e-book versions of A Guide to Saving a Social Phobic, 300 Comebacks for Daily Use, and High-EQ Conversational Geniuses, deciding to cram and teach himself starting tonight.

 

The two got off on the island, bathed in scorching sunlight.

Xie Yan quickly slipped into substitute mode.

He adjusted the camera settings, then turned his head and asked, “What pose do you want to take with me?”

 

Lin Chuji: ?

 

What kind of trash talk is that?

 

“Isn’t this a group photo?”

Xie Yan spread his arms wide, looking like a martyr heading to his death.

“At most, I can only accept hugging.

Anything more intimate, I really can’t do.

I’ll feel too awkward.”

 

Lin Chuji truly wanted to call the police.

How could this person say such shameless things so casually?

 

“No need.

Just standing side by side is fine,” Lin Chuji said, enduring the humiliation.

 

“Think carefully.

This is your only chance.

Next time, I might not be willing to cooperate,” Xie Yan kindly reminded.

“……”

Lin Chuji couldn’t be bothered with him.

He glanced at the camera and muttered to himself, “No tripod.

How are we going to take it?

Maybe just use the phone for a selfie.

Simple and convenient.”

 

“Easy.

Find a passerby—” Xie Yan had a professional’s obsession with photography.

He was midsentence when someone suddenly attacked him from behind, nearly knocking him over.

He swore under his breath, turned around, and saw two almost identical faces.

His tone shifted instantly to familiarity.

“What are you two doing here?”

 

“Surprised?”

“Unexpected?”

 

Both spoke at once, double the volume, extremely noisy.

 

“I’m asking you, when did you buy tickets?”

Xie Yan slung an arm around each of them, embracing both.

 

“We were waiting to ambush you right here.

Of course, we let you board first, then followed.

Same day as you.

Booked a room too.

Mainly worried that while you were wandering, you’d have a change of heart and jump into the sea—no body left.

That would be terrifying,” the one on the left answered.

 

Xie Yan laughed and squeezed his neck.

“You’re sick.”

 

Chatting casually among themselves, they naturally formed a barrier.

 

Lin Chuji stepped back a few paces to create distance, lowered his head, and pretended to be busy, but his phone screen stayed on the same webpage.

His finger had nearly poked through the glass.

 

“Let me introduce you.

They’re twins, also my high school roommates.

Shen Yinan, Shen Yibei,” Xie Yan quickly noticed his discomfort and smoothly made the introductions.

“This is my new roommate, Lin Chuji.”

 

Lin Chuji was forced to look up again.

The older brother had a buzz cut, the younger had long hair—completely opposite styles, which made them easy to tell apart.

 

Their eyes met briefly, and they nodded in greeting.

 

Shen Yinan recalled the strange position they had been in moments ago and asked curiously, “What were you two just doing?”

 

“Perfect timing.

Take a few photos of us,” Xie Yan said, handing over the camera.

He naturally raised his arm and hooked it around Lin Chuji’s shoulder, stepping back a few paces.

 

Lin Chuji went stiff all over.

This guy just randomly puts his hands on people.

So annoying.

 

“Move a little to the left.

A bit overexposed,” Shen Yinan said, holding the camera up to frame them and adjusting the focus.

 

The scenery was nice, the weather pleasant, and the two faces in front of the lens were indeed pleasing to the eye.

But something felt off.

 

In the frame, Xie Yan wasn’t looking straight ahead.

Instead, he was slightly tilting his face toward the person beside him, eyelids slightly lowered, eyes full of affection—gazing so tenderly it could drown someone.

 

How.

Damn.

Weird.

 

He pressed his lips together and exchanged a glance with his younger brother.

Twin telepathy kicked in.

His brother’s expression was equally baffled.

 

Xie Yan’s neck was getting stiff from holding the pose.

He urged, “Did you take it yet?

My neck’s getting tired.”

 

Lin Chuji’s cheeks burned under that gaze.

Eyes fixed straight ahead, he squeezed out from between his lips: “Can you… not stare at me?”

 

“I’m cooperating with you,” Xie Yan said, still not moving, staring at the tip of Lin Chuji’s nose.

He was quite pleased with himself, still immersed in his own brilliant acting.

 

To give him a good substitute memory.

A straight guy pretending to be gay.

Truly awesome.

 

Lin Chuji was extremely uncomfortable under that unabashed stare.

“Just look forward.”

 

Xie Yan, always striving for perfection, said, “No can do.

That would be too fake.

We’d look like two underground Communist Party comrades meeting up—pure revolutionary camaraderie.”

 

Lin Chuji’s expression turned serious.

“…Shouldn’t we be?”

 

Xie Yan sighed.

“Now I understand why you ended up like this.

You have no romantic sense.”

 

Lin Chuji blinked.

Alright.

I don’t get it.

Whatever you say.

So he endured the burning gaze and reluctantly forced a fake smile.

 

Shen Yinan pressed the shutter and directed, “Change pose.

Take a few more to choose from.”

 

Xie Yan raised his lips, his muscular arm draping over Lin Chuji’s shoulder and pulling him closer.

Both wore short sleeves.

Dark skin brushed against pale arm.

Skin touched skin.

Scorching.

 

The distance suddenly closed.

Lin Chuji’s entire body tensed, looking nervous.

“What are you doing now?”

 

Xie Yan turned his wrist, deliberately showing off the love token watch to the camera.

He felt he was being incredibly thoughtful, chattering on: “I’m so nice, aren’t I?

Guys as considerate and generous as me are rare.”

 

Shameless.

Lin Chuji thought to himself, afraid that one day he might actually lose control and poison him mute.

 

“Got it.

I understand.

Won’t spell it out,” Xie Yan said, trying to save Lin Chuji’s face when he didn’t respond.

 

Lin Chuji was completely confused, but held in place by that dog’s paw on his shoulder.

 

Shen Yinan tilted his head.

“They’ve only known each other for a day, right?”

 

“Xie Boss being a social butterfly is normal, but the way he looks at people…” Shen Yibei stroked his chin, searching for the right word.

 

“Passionate and sentimental,” Shen Yinan offered.

 

“Suspiciously unclear,” Shen Yibei agreed.

 

“No wonder he keeps talking about this roommate nonstop.

So this is his type.”

They spoke in unison, their worlds crumbling and being rebuilt.

 

On the other side of the lens, the two were still locked in a stalemate.

 

Lin Chuji really couldn’t stand this kind of skin-to-skin proximity.

He moved his elbow and negotiated, “Don’t lean so close to me.

I really don’t like it.”

 

Xie Yan thought to himself, I’m selling my looks here and not even getting a thank you.

Besides, guys slapping each other on the back and shoulders was perfectly normal, wasn’t it?

The gay world really is different.

But since the other had spoken, he withdrew his hand, put it back in his pocket, and complained, “Man, you’re really hard to please.”

 

The shutter clicked, capturing the image of them glaring at each other, eyes locked in confrontation.

 

“Moved.

Didn’t come out well,” Shen Yinan said regretfully.

 

Lin Chuji escaped the devil’s grasp, quickly pulling away, and rushed to say, “No more photos.

I want the first one.”

 

Xie Yan took back the camera and scrolled back.

“I knew you liked that pose.

You’re just being stubborn.”

 

Lin Chuji: “…Please send it to me.

Thank you.”

 

Xie Yan used an app to transfer the photos to his phone, expressing his lingering displeasure at having been misunderstood earlier: “You haven’t added me yet.

How can I send them?

And I’m not insisting on getting your contact info this time, just so you know.”

 

Lin Chuji reluctantly pulled up his QR code.

“I’m adding you.”

I’ll delete him in a few days anyway.

 

Shen Yibei found it a bit absurd.

“You two… your eyes are practically making threads, and you don’t even have each other’s contact info?”

 

“Don’t spread rumors.

Nothing’s going on,” Xie Yan clarified.

 

The brothers exchanged glances again.

Twin telepathy activated.

Got it.

Xie Boss can’t close the deal yet.

Still chasing.

Saving face.

 

Lin Chuji had no idea what kind of melodramatic soap opera they had just imagined in their heads.

He added the contact.

 

Xie Yan saw his WeChat name and profile picture. “lark?

A lark?

So your nickname is—Lin Little Bird?

Or Lin Little Lark?”

 

Lin Chuji: “……”

I want to be Lin Big Cannon and blow you to pieces.

 

The other two were laughing so hard they were shaking.

 

Lin Chuji held back again and again, then spoke politely: “Could you please send me those photos just now?

Thank you.”

He had even resorted to using honorifics.

 

Xie Yan laughed and sent him all the photos.

Lin Chuji quickly forwarded them to get some peace.

At the same time, his mother instantly fired back a long string of interrogations.

 

[Mom]: That’s not your high school classmate, is it?

[Mom]: How did you meet this person?

[Mom]: Why is he looking at you like that?

 

Lin Chuji’s face turned ashen.

He wanted to find a temple and become a monk.

 

[lark]: An online friend we often discuss schoolwork with.

We specifically arranged to meet this time.

[lark]: You said you wouldn’t bother me after I sent the photo.

[Mom]: Fine.

I’ll ask for details when you come back.

[Mom]: Oh, and you can check your college entrance exam scores in five minutes.

Tell me after you see them.

[Mom]: I already declined Cambridge’s offer for you.

Stay in Jing City.

Don’t even think about going abroad.

 

Lin Chuji watched the messages pop up one by one.

He didn’t reply.

He stared expressionlessly at the surging sea in the distance.

 

Beside him, Shen Yinan nudged the guy on the lounge chair with his elbow and whispered gossip: “Hey, your roommate doesn’t look too happy.”

 

“Normal,” Xie Yan said.

Just finished taking photos, reminiscing about the past, remembering little moments with his ex-boyfriend.

Poor guy.

 

Shen Yibei thought for a moment, puzzled.

“Then why don’t you comfort him?

How are you even straighter than me?”

 

“What’s it got to do with me?”

Xie Yan furrowed his brow.

“You two have been acting weird since just now.

If you’re sick, take medicine.

I haven’t even asked you yet—I came here to clear my head.

Why are you two butting in?”

 

“Like we said, we were worried you might do something desperate,” Shen Yinan said, touching his nose.

“You were born for criminal investigation.

Your family… even gave you a special admission offer, and you turned it down.

Such a shame.”

 

Xie Yan said calmly, “Not a shame.”

 

“Alright.

Then the three of us will continue being roommates at Jing University,” Shen Yinan said, patting his shoulder.

 

Xie Yan gave a perfunctory smile, then nimbly flipped off the lounge chair.

“Going to the bathroom.”

 

The wind blew the waves.

Lin Chuji looked down, his gaze falling back on his wrists.

The red marks hadn’t faded.

His frustration spread even wider.

He had come on this trip to briefly escape his overbearingly controlling parents.

He’d barely gotten away, and now he was stuck with a perverted roommate.

Everything was going wrong.

 

He still didn’t know what had really happened last night.

 

He turned around, walked back slowly, spent a few minutes mentally preparing himself, then tentatively asked: “Xie Yan… when he roomed with you before, did he ever do anything strange at night?”

 

Shen Yinan, lying on a beach chair, looked up in confusion.

“At night?

He was fine.

Didn’t snore or grind his teeth.

Best roommate in China.”

 

Lin Chuji murmured, “Oh.

I see.”

 

“What did he do to you at night?”

Shen Yibei caught the implication in his words, looked him up and down.

“He wouldn’t have…” kissed you, would he?

 

Lin Chuji hesitated to speak.

His already delicate and handsome face looked even more striking at that moment—eyelashes slightly lowered, ears flushed red, lips slightly parted in an innocent expression.

It was pitiful in a way that invited empathy, and also easily stirred improper thoughts.

 

“Damn it.

Animal,” Shen Yibei spat in disgust.

 

“But sometimes he does sleepwalk.

He does all sorts of things with his eyes open.

So he definitely didn’t mean it,” Shen Yinan said, afraid of causing extra trouble or misunderstandings, grabbing a random excuse to calm Lin Chuji down first.

He’d settle accounts later.

 

Lin Chuji repeated the key word: “Sleepwalk?”

 

Shen Yibei quickly continued the fabrication: “Right.

He had some childhood trauma, so he developed a bit of a sleep issue.

So if he accidentally does something, it’s definitely not intentional.

We’ll keep him in check.

It won’t happen again!

Don’t confront him about it directly—that would be really awkward.

You’re so understanding.

You get it, right?”

 

Lin Chuji nodded.

That explains it.

But using sleepwalking as an excuse to recklessly harass people was still outrageously immoral.

 

Tonight, I’ll tie him up so he can’t misbehave again.

 

Just as he was thinking that, his phone popped up a score-checking reminder.

Lin Chuji looked down, entered his exam number and password, and quickly retrieved his results. 689 points.

Getting into Jing University should be secure.

 

He took a screenshot and sent it to his mother.

Then he looked up and saw Xie Yan walking toward him while looking at his phone.

The trace of melancholy that had flickered across his face moments ago was gone, replaced by his usual ease.

The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, looking quite the youthful, spirited young man.

 

Sleepwalker.

And he still has the nerve to smile.

Lin Chuji scorned him inwardly.

 

Xie Yan noticed his expression, glanced at the score-checking system on Lin Chuji’s phone screen, and casually asked: “Same year as me, huh?

Scores are out.

Where are you planning to apply?”

 

Lin Chuji’s impression of him had dropped back to below zero, so he outright lied: “Didn’t do well.

Only qualified for Tieling Excavator Technical School.

Learn a trade and go to a factory.

You?”

 

Xie Yan was stunned.

One casual question and I’ve poked another sore spot.

Romance failing, exams failing—see?

This is why high schoolers shouldn’t date early.

 

Shen Yinan chimed in: “He’s going to Jing—”

Xie Yan coughed heavily, cutting him off.

Under his two friends’ incredulous stares, he said with sincere eyes: “That’s great.

Congratulations.

I’m going to the Seeker of Excellence Men’s Athletic Academy.”

 

Lin Chuji: “……”

 

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