The rest of the hike up the mountain was spent in complete silence.
Each of the four had their own personal crisis to deal with.
Huang Wenjie no longer dared to whine about wanting his godfather to pull him along. He walked ahead quietly, eyes glued to the ground.
Gao Yinghang still hadn’t recovered. He didn’t even dare to look in Meng Xin and Bian Ting’s direction. Instead, he practically sprinted ahead, as if escaping from some unspeakable horror.
Meng Xin, who had just been kissed again, had gone into a temporary mute state and required cooldown time before he could speak again.
The only person still capable of normal speech, Bian Ting, was thoughtful enough to remain silent as well—because no words were going to fix the awkward tension hanging over them.
Instead, he pulled out his phone and sent a message to Meng Xin.
Bian Ting: Kissed once and now you won’t talk?
Meng Xin’s face burned. He mashed the keyboard in a frantic reply.
Meng Xin: AAAAHHHHH IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT THEY SAW US!!!
Bian Ting: Mm. My fault. I wasn’t paying attention.
It was true—he had been careless. But…
Someone had suddenly run up and kissed him out of nowhere. Wanting to kiss back was just basic human nature.
Bian Ting was very sincere in admitting his mistake.
Bian Ting: Next time, I’ll be more careful.
Meng Xin: NEXT TIME?!?!
Bian Ting, quick to adapt: Next time, I’ll make sure they don’t see.
Meng Xin huffed through his nose, grudgingly accepting the apology.
Meng Xin: Hmph. That’s more like it.
He had just finished typing and was about to put his phone away when another message popped up.
Bian Ting: Your canine tooth is really sharp.
“…”
Meng Xin definitely remembered.
That kiss had just happened.
He definitely remembered how Bian Ting had traced his tongue over his sharp tooth, like he was fascinated by it—like he was trying to smooth it down.
Meng Xin slammed his phone shut like a clamshell (despite it being a modern touchscreen).
He needed cooldown time all over again.
Meng Xin turned to glare at Bian Ting.
Then, without hesitation, he snatched Bian Ting’s phone, long-pressed the message, hit recall, and tossed the phone right back at him.
Bian Ting: I can’t even say that?
Meng Xin: NO!!!!!!!!!!
By the time they reached the scenic overlook at the mountain’s peak, the two straight guys who had practically sprinted the whole way finally came to a stop.
Huang Wenjie, who had spent the entire hike in a state of shock, finally managed to blurt out his first question:
“So… when you say you two are together… does that mean neither of you are straight anymore?”
“Yes,” Bian Ting answered.
Gao Yinghang, still dazed, followed up, “Who… who turned first?”
“I did,” Bian Ting said.
Gao Yinghang looked at him with newfound respect. “You actually managed to turn Meng Xin gay?”
Meng Xin immediately protested. “Why are you saying ‘actually’ like it’s some miracle?!”
Gao Yinghang ignored him. “Since when…?”
Bian Ting: “Officially together since last week.”
Gao Yinghang: “And before that?”
Bian Ting turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Meng Xin’s eyes.
“Before that…” he said, voice calm but firm, “I had already liked him for a long time.”
Silence.
Huang Wenjie and Gao Yinghang exchanged a look.
And suddenly, everything made sense.
Why some people only needed to send a few numbers to get Bian Ting to bring them food.
Why some people always seemed to know exactly where Bian Ting was at all times.
Why some people could ride Bian Ting like a personal doormat and get away with it.
Huang Wenjie: “Meng Xin, you—”
Gao Yinghang: “Meng Xin, you—”
Huang Wenjie: “We treated you like a son…”
Gao Yinghang: “But you wanted to be our father…”
Then, as if on cue, they both launched into a back-and-forth of four-character idioms:
Huang Wenjie: “The world is declining.”
Gao Yinghang: “Morals are deteriorating.”
Huang Wenjie: “Ethics are collapsing.”
Gao Yinghang: “Society is corrupt.”
Huang Wenjie: “Contrary to common sense.”
Gao Yinghang: “Disregarding human decency.”
Meng Xin: “……”
Huang Wenjie, having exhausted his vocabulary, let out a long, mournful sigh and dropped onto a bench in existential despair.
Huang Wenjie sighed mournfully. “Will anyone spoil me anymore?”
Meng Xin immediately reassured him. “I will! I’ll spoil you! Ah!”
“You say that now,” Huang Wenjie huffed, still full of resentment. “But for the past few nights, I was the one who turned off the dorm lights.”
Turning off the lights sounded simple, but it required the difficult task of getting out of bed and climbing back up in the dark—the most dreaded chore in their dorm.
Meng Xin patted his chest and made a solemn vow. “I’ll do it. From now on, I’ll turn them off every night!”
Huang Wenjie remained unconvinced. “And lately, whenever I send out those support links, nobody even clicks on them.”
Meng Xin instantly got the hint. “Send them to me! I’ll support you, and then I’ll forward them to our ‘One Big Happy Family’ group chat. You’ll have tons of people clicking them!”
Huang Wenjie sighed again. “Also… no one plays games with me anymore.”
Meng Xin immediately stepped up. “I’ll play with you! Bian Ting and I will both play! I’ll tank, he’ll heal, and we’ll revolve around you—you’ll be at full HP from start to finish!”
Huang Wenjie hesitated. “For real?”
Meng Xin nodded. “For real.”
Then he turned to Gao Yinghang. “You too. Same treatment.”
Huang Wenjie, now completely revived, did a total 180 and, in the tone of an opera performer, declared, “Wishing you two a hundred years of happiness and many children!”
Gao Yinghang, not to be outdone, echoed the sentiment. “Wishing you two a hundred years of happiness and many children!”
The trip down the mountain was much smoother than the climb up—Huang Wenjie and Gao Yinghang were no longer so stunned that they walked around like paralyzed mannequins, but they still stayed completely silent as they walked way ahead in front.
Their pace was blazing fast, keeping a solid five-meter gap between themselves and the dorm’s new couple.
Meng Xin exhaled in relief.
Having a gay couple in the dorm was probably a lot for two straight guys to process, but at least his two roommates were reasonable people.
However…
As it turned out, randomly seeing a gay couple on the street and realizing your close friend is gay were two completely different things.
Being understanding was one thing.
But curiosity? That was another beast entirely.
For the next two days after coming out, Meng Xin constantly felt like he was being watched.
Like there were two sets of eyes following his every move.
He had a feeling those two had questions.
On the third day, they finally couldn’t hold back any longer.
The moment Bian Ting left for the library, Huang Wenjie seized the opportunity, grabbing Meng Xin before he could leave for class.
With great hesitation, he asked, “So, uh… you and Bian Ting, you guys…”
He trailed off, struggling to get the words out.
Desperate, he signaled at Gao Yinghang for backup.
Gao Yinghang picked up the thread and tried, “Are you, like… you’re the… and he’s the…”
They fumbled for a while, unable to form a full sentence.
Finally, Meng Xin decided to save them the trouble.
“You guys want to ask if I’m the zero or the one, right?”
Huang Wenjie’s eyes widened in shock. “How did you know?!”
“Please, that’s an obvious question.” Meng Xin clapped a knowing hand on Huang Wenjie’s shoulder. “It’s a very valid question, and I’d love to answer it. But honestly, I suggest you don’t ask.”
Huang Wenjie was confused. “Why not?”
Meng Xin, once a straight man himself, sighed and spoke from experience:
“If you ask too many times… you become gay.”
Meng Xin: “Yeah, it doesn’t matter.”
Bian Ting’s eyes flashed with a hint of subtle shock. “It… doesn’t matter?”
Meng Xin nodded, brimming with the righteous determination of a newly enlightened man. “Of course! Since I’ve already decided to be the 1, I should act like one immediately. I can’t hesitate—I have to take the lead!”
Bian Ting was silent for a moment, then asked, “…You’re sure?”
Meng Xin patted his own chest. “One hundred percent sure!”
Bian Ting raised his eyebrows slightly. “Alright.”
Then, with an unreadable smile, he took a step forward.
The next moment, Meng Xin found himself backed against the wall, Bian Ting’s arms on either side of him.
A deep voice sounded near his ear. “Go ahead, then.”
Meng Xin: “…Huh?”
Bian Ting: “You’re the 1, right? Show me.”
Meng Xin: “……”
A strong sense of crisis struck him.
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Something was wrong here.
Meng Xin had imagined many things before coming to talk to Bian Ting—mainly about how his role as the 1 would allow him to protect and take care of Bian Ting.
But he had definitely not expected this scenario.
Bian Ting’s tall frame loomed over him, completely cutting off his escape routes.
Meng Xin gulped.
His mind went blank for a second before he forced himself to refocus. No, this was fine! He was the 1 now! He had to step up!
Meng Xin clenched his fists, mustering his resolve. Then he reached out and… firmly grasped Bian Ting’s shoulders.
He pushed.
But Bian Ting didn’t move.
Meng Xin frowned and used more force.
Bian Ting still didn’t budge.
Meng Xin: “…Can you move back a little?”
Bian Ting: “Why?”
Meng Xin: “So I can… take the lead.”
Bian Ting let out a low chuckle. “You can’t take the lead from here?”
Meng Xin: “……”
Bian Ting tilted his head, smiling lazily. “Looks like you’re not ready yet.”
Meng Xin was about to protest when—
Bian Ting leaned in.
The moment his warm breath brushed against Meng Xin’s lips, all thoughts instantly left Meng Xin’s head.
Then—just before their lips could touch—Bian Ting suddenly stepped back.
He glanced at the time on his phone again. “They’ll be back in ten minutes now.”
Meng Xin: “……”
Bian Ting patted his head lightly. “Think it over first. When you’re ready, we’ll talk.”
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Meng Xin standing there—frozen, speechless, and questioning all of his life choices.
Meng Xin rarely saw such an openly shocked expression on Bian Ting’s face, which confused him.
“Huh? Does it matter? And I should be done in about twenty minutes.”
“Otherwise, maybe I should—”
“No way, we agreed that I’d be the 1.”
Bian Ting fell silent for a full minute, seemingly going through some complex internal struggle.
“Alright then.”
“What exactly did you learn?” Bian Ting asked.
Meng Xin had learned a lot. Responsibility and commitment—those were the first lessons of becoming a man.
He pushed Bian Ting down onto a chair.
“Sit down.”
“Alright.” Bian Ting paused, then asked, “Do I need to prepare anything?”
“Nothing at all.”
Meng Xin said seriously, “Just sit there. From now on, I’ll bring you food.”
“…”
“…”
Bian Ting still held onto a sliver of hope—surely, this was just Meng Xin’s opening statement, and there had to be more to follow. So, he sat in the chair, waiting for Meng Xin’s next move.
However, Meng Xin’s next move was… putting on his jacket, slipping on his shoes, grabbing his keys, and heading toward the door.
Bian Ting: “…”
What exactly had he been expecting?
“Wait a second,” Bian Ting called out, his expression complicated. “Just bringing food?”
“Yeah,” Meng Xin looked confused. “What else?”
“Which website did you learn this from?” He needed to file a complaint.
Meng Xin shook his head and said, “You said it yourself—whoever brings someone a hot pot of rice noodles is the 1.”
Since he was going to be the 1 from now on, naturally, he had to take care of this kind of thing!
—Look at him! So gentle and considerate, so responsible, so perfectly suited to be a boyfriend.
“…”
Bian Ting never expected that a casual joke he had once made about straight guys would one day come back around and smack him in the face like this.
Meng Xin saw that Bian Ting wasn’t saying anything and thought he was touched—understandable. Back when Bian Ting used to bring him hot pot rice noodles, he would often be moved to tears.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you from now on,” Meng Xin said solemnly.
Bian Ting was once again charmed by how serious he looked. The corners of his lips curled up in a small, indulgent smile.
He nodded and said, “You’ve always been good to me.”
“Of course!” Meng Xin replied proudly before dashing toward the door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes!”
“Alright.”
…
Five minutes later, Bian Ting undid two buttons, exposing his collar slightly as he sat in his chair with a sigh.
He sent a message to Zhang Yiming.
Bian Ting: I have a 1 now.
Zhang Yiming: Are you sick?
Bian Ting: He said today that he wants to be the 1.
Zhang Yiming was shocked at first.
Zhang Yiming: You guys progressed that fast???
Then he asked,
Zhang Yiming: So what? You’re really willing to be the 0 for love?
Bian Ting: He went to buy me food.
Zhang Yiming: ?
Bian Ting propped his chin on his hand, casually scrolling through his phone. Thinking about something, he let out a small chuckle.
Bian Ting: You don’t get it. The one who brings food is the 1.
Zhang Yiming got it.
Zhang Yiming: Disgusting couple. Get lost.
—
Meng Xin kept it up for seven whole days.
On the eighth day, he turned to Bian Ting and said, “Let’s negotiate—how about I’m the 1 on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and you’re the 1 on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays? Sound good?”
Bringing food for someone wasn’t easy. If you weren’t disciplined, you couldn’t guarantee that they’d eat on time. Meng Xin now understood just how impressive it was that Bian Ting had brought him food every single day before.
Bian Ting seemed to have expected this and nodded. “Alright.”
Then he asked, “What about Sundays?”
“Sundays…” Meng Xin thought for a moment before saying, “Sunday is our rest day. Neither of us will be the 1.”
“Alright.”
—
Five days later, Bian Ting saw a certain someone sprawled out on a chair, looking up at him pitifully.
As he approached, that certain someone even blinked his big, bright eyes at him in a very deliberate way.
Bian Ting understood immediately. “You want me to be the 1?”
Meng Xin had been waiting for those words. He nodded enthusiastically like a little chick pecking at rice. “You 1, you 1.”
“So from now on, I’ll always be the 1?” Bian Ting asked.
Meng Xin nodded again. “You’re the forever 1.”
And just like that, the forever 1 dutifully went out to buy hot pot rice noodles.
Meanwhile, still sprawled out lazily, Meng Xin pulled out his phone and messaged Fan Da.
Meng Xin: You were right. I’ve given up.
Meng Xin: Being a 0 is great. I love being a 0.
Meng Xin: Find yourself a 1 who spoils you, and life is good.
Fan Da: What happened to your sense of responsibility?
Meng Xin: People change.
Meng Xin: I can enjoy Four Halls’ hot pot rice noodles without even stepping out of my dorm. Do you understand how valuable this is?
Fan Da sent a picture.
—It was a screenshot of their previous chat. Two of Meng Xin’s messages were stitched together: “As a person, we should have a sense of responsibility.” and “I won’t stoop to your level.”
Fan Da had turned them into a meme.
Meng Xin shamelessly used Fan Da’s own words against him: “I’m gay. What do I need responsibility for?”
Fan Da sent another screenshot.
—It was the search results from their chat history with the keyword “straight guy.” The results filled an entire page, almost all of them being Meng Xin repeatedly declaring, “I’m straight.”
Fan Da: Take a look and tell me who this person is.
Meng Xin: Who? Don’t know him.
Meng Xin: I’ve completely changed. I’ve said goodbye to my past self.
Meng Xin: I am now 100% gay.
Meng Xin: Oh, and I’m about to say something super gay. Get ready.
Meng Xin generously gave Fan Da thirty seconds to prepare before finally sending his message.
Meng Xin: I have a 1 now!
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