Qi Xu found out that Xie Huai was allergic to mango, so he picked up the untouched bottle of mango juice on Xie Huai’s table and started drinking it.
“I said I didn’t do it on purpose, do you believe me? We’re not close enough to know each other’s allergies yet, cut me some slack.”
Literally shoving the allergen right in front of the allergic person, almost forcing it down their throat—and then asking for understanding. What a bold excuse.
Luckily, Xie Huai was broad-minded and didn’t hold it against him: “I’ll understand you, but you have to understand me too.”
Qi Xu put the mango juice back on the table calmly and said, “Okay, mutual understanding. What else are you allergic to? Tell me now. I’ll make a chart and stick it on our door. That paper will be an important reminder for all of us in Room 314.”
Li Yan nodded in agreement: “Yeah, allergies are serious. They can even be life-threatening.”
Feng Zhenjie had already opened his notebook, ready to jot everything down.
Xie Huai leaned casually against his chair, looking at Qi Xu, joking around with lively expressions.
“I can’t stand the smell of your shampoo—please switch it.”
Qi Xu burst out laughing: “You’re allergic to my shampoo? It’s not mango scent.”
Xie Huai said, “I’m sensitive to coconut-scented products. Took allergy meds before bed last night.”
So it turns out their dorm housed a Chlorpheniramine guy—basically allergic to everything.
“Taking allergy meds for that serious?” Qi Xu was skeptical. “You didn’t even touch it or put it in your mouth. How are you allergic?”
Xie Huai stood up and poured himself a glass of water: “Better safe than sorry, right? Your shampoo smells way too coconutty.”
Li Yan couldn’t help but snicker: “Xu-ge, after your shower last night, you smelled like you bathed in coconut milk. The whole dorm was surrounded by that scent. I even caught some of it while showering behind you.”
Qi Xu himself didn’t really notice; all his toiletries were prepared by Uncle Li, and he didn’t have many preferences—anything that works was fine.
“Smells bad?” Qi Xu asked.
Feng Zhenjie shook his head: “We don’t think it’s bad, it’s not some cheap artificial fragrance—it’s natural. But yeah, for people sensitive to that scent, it’s torture.”
Qi Xu showed some sympathy: “If your allergies are that bad, why didn’t you just sleep facing another way last night?”
Xie Huai tilted his head: “You want me to sleep with my feet pointed at you? Considering your morning temper, my legs wouldn’t stand a chance. Your morning mood is scary.”
True, if Qi Xu woke up and saw a pair of feet pointed at his head, a fight would probably break out.
Qi Xu said, “Alright, I’ll switch shampoos.”
Then he thought for a moment and added, “There are so many shampoo scents now. What else are you allergic to?”
He was worried that if he bought a new shampoo and the young master claimed allergy again, it’d be a waste of money.
Money doesn’t grow on trees.
Li Yan suddenly came up with a foolproof idea: “Xu-ge, why don’t you just buy the same shampoo as Xie Huai? That way, no mistakes.”
Qi Xu hesitated a bit, but couldn’t argue—it really was a perfect solution.
“What scent is your shampoo?”
Xie Huai said, “Lychee rose.”
Qi Xu raised an eyebrow: “That sweet? Trying to be a sweet boy, huh?”
Xie Huai didn’t deny it. “Now that the dorm has a cool boy, I can’t compete with that. I’ll have to find another way.”
Li Yan yelled out, “You two are going too far! Planning to debut as a duo? Don’t even think about leaving us behind. Feng Zhenjie, what kind of boy are we then?”
Feng Zhenjie’s mind worked fast, and he quickly came up with nicknames fitting their personalities: “I love spicy food—spicy boy. And you, since your home’s by the sea, sea boy.”
Li Yan wasn’t convinced. “Are you secretly mocking me? What sea boy nonsense?”
The two started bickering again, while Qi Xu sat down watching the fun. It wasn’t noisy, just lively and full of warmth.
Somehow, the once solitary Qi Xu had grown fond of this kind of liveliness.
He thought to himself: maybe this time he would really live a proper college life—not revolving around the Shen family, but living his own life.
A life that belonged entirely to Qi Xu.
Next came the repetitive and boring military training, theory classes, and physical exercises.
Qi Xu still struggled to get up in the morning. The alarm recording had been upgraded—from Uncle Li’s voice to Old Master Shen’s—with a stronger dose of “medicine,” so it was even more brutal, like a midnight horror ringtone.
Qi Xu’s face darkened day by day—not from the sun, but from frustration. Li Yan and Feng Zhenjie were both afraid that when they weren’t around, Qi Xu and Xie Huai might actually get into a fight in the dorm.
They secretly told Xie Huai about their worry, and he replied that he would lock the door and not drag innocent people into it.
Despite severe sleep deprivation, Qi Xu managed to keep a straight face and nap with his head propped during the military theory classes. But during outdoor training, when passing the business school squad, you could hear the drill instructor’s angry shouts full of frustration.
“Qi Xu, sleeping again? Where are your eyes?!”
A clearly sleepy voice lazily replied, “Reporting, not sleeping. Two eyes accounted for, two eyes present.”
The whole class burst out laughing, and even the neighboring squads were chuckling.
After these days of military training, the name Qi Xu had become famous. The drill instructors often called him out, sometimes just to shout “Qi Xu!” even when there was no particular reason, as if he was a built-in target. They’d call him multiple times a day, so everyone remembered the name—plus, with his looks, he always caught attention.
What stood out most was that the handsome guy always had another handsome guy standing beside him. Qi Xu was the “negative example,” while Xie Huai was the “positive example.”
“Xie Huai, fall out and show them the standard moves.”
The guy on Qi Xu’s right stepped out with perfect form. “Yes, sir.”
The instructor from the neighboring squad quickly ordered, “Everyone, right face!”
As expected, a wave of sighs and groans followed.
“Why all the sighing? Are you jealous that the handsome guy from another squad looks better?”
Shen Zeyu turned his head slightly, his eyes reluctantly leaving the tall, upright figure ahead.
Because his movement was too obvious, the instructor reminded him, “Squad leader, pay attention.”
Shen Zeyu was the squad leader of Finance Class Two. He thought Xie Huai would still be a squad leader at college and ran for the position himself just to share the role with Xie Huai. On the first day, he asked Xie Huai about it but didn’t get a clear answer—just a vague “we’ll see.”
But Xie Huai had been a squad leader for three years, so there was no reason he wouldn’t continue, especially since college leadership roles could earn credit. Yet, the leader of Class One was someone else.
Shen Zeyu quietly faced forward every day. After dismissals, whenever he saw Xie Huai and Qi Xu walking together, an unexpected sense of crisis crept up inside him. He’d spent a lot of effort to get close to Xie Huai step by step—why should Qi Xu, just because he was Shen’s biological son, get everything handed to him on a silver platter?
Why should someone who’s not welcomed by their own family be allowed to stand in this circle?
A nameless fire burned inside Shen Zeyu’s heart, ready to flare up and scorch everything.
At lunchtime, after dismissal, the drill instructor called over Xie Huai and Qi Xu.
“To the two most handsome guys, stay behind.”
Then all the boys in the class stopped and turned to look at the instructor.
The instructor froze, caught between laughing and crying, mouth twitching but unable to get a word out.
“Instructor, please call us by name next time. We know we’re handsome, but we thought you were calling us all.”
Someone shamelessly asked, “Instructor, what do you need from me? I’m the number one handsome guy in the class.”
Another chimed in, “I’m number two.”
“Huai and Xu are at the bottom of the list, no particular order.”
The instructor corrected himself, “Okay, the 22 most handsome guys stay behind.”
So, the 22 good-looking guys were left standing there, fresh and vibrant.
Finally able to speak seriously, the instructor said, “I’ll keep it short so I don’t hold up your lunch. We need to select flag bearers. Xie Huai and Qi Xu, report to the head instructor this afternoon.”
Qi Xu was self-aware. “Instructor, with my current spirit and energy, I won’t be dragging anyone down. My eyes tend to wander off sometimes.”
The instructor mock-threatened with his hat, “Can’t you have a bit of ambition? They might not even pick you. This is just the preliminary round.”
Qi Xu honestly didn’t have the energy for anything else. He never realized how quickly his stamina drained—maybe it was because his mind had been tightly wound for so long, forced to carry a heavy burden. Now that he relaxed, his energy disappeared with it.
The medicinal broths he drank at the old family home during the first days of school helped somewhat. Even when he didn’t sleep enough, he didn’t feel completely drained. But after just a few days of military training, the supplements from summer break were gone—he was back to square one.
“I’m not going. Let someone else take the chance.”
The rest of the class had noticed Qi Xu’s state lately. He rarely fell asleep during training, but whenever there was downtime, he would immediately nod off—head resting on his knees, eyes closed, instantly out cold.
When it came time to wake him up, they had to bother Huai-ge, because no one else could rouse him. Once, they even alarmed the head instructor, who thought a student had fainted—only to find out he was just asleep.
“I’ll go! I’ll go!”
“Me too!”
Many hands shot up volunteering. The instructor knew exactly what these kids were thinking: “Trying to avoid afternoon training, huh? Squad leader, you go.”
Gao Wenjun, standing at the back, was a bit surprised when called. His gaze shifted away from the center of attention. “Okay, instructor.”
Qi Xu washed his face at the faucet to barely stay awake. He swept his bangs back, revealing delicate brows and eyes. Water droplets ran down his cheeks to his neck and disappeared into his collar, sparkling golden in the sunlight, suddenly catching everyone’s eyes off guard.
Walking alongside someone so eye-catching gave a 90% head-turn rate, and even Li Yan felt the “handsome guy effect.”
Just as Qi Xu raised his arm to wipe his face, a tissue and a handkerchief were offered to him at the same time.
Qi Xu recognized the handkerchief but wondered who handed him the tissue.
Standing next to Xie Huai was Gao Wenjun, whom Qi Xu didn’t know well and had exchanged only a few words with.
“Qi Xu, wipe your face,” Gao Wenjun said first, looking at him.
As squad leader during military training, Gao Wenjun always carried a plastic box with emergency medicine and essentials wherever he went.
Xie Huai stood silently beside him, still holding the handkerchief.
Qi Xu took Xie Huai’s handkerchief and said to Gao Wenjun, “Thanks, but no need.”
Gao Wenjun put away the tissue with a small smile and kindly asked, “So, which cafeteria are you guys planning to eat at for lunch?”
Qi Xu wasn’t the decision-maker and just followed the group. He wasn’t picky — as long as there was food, he was fine.
But then he heard Xie Huai say, “You fall asleep just walking. Just go back to the dorm and sleep. I’ll get your food.”
That was exactly what Qi Xu wanted to hear. His eyes lit up instantly — the food wasn’t important, sleep was.
“Take your time eating.”
Before he finished speaking, Qi Xu had already turned left, eager to rush back to the dorm to sleep.
Li Yan worriedly asked, “Is his condition normal? He didn’t seem this sleepy at the beginning of the semester.”
Feng Zhenjie said, “He’s basically the reincarnation of the Sleep God these days. It’s getting harder to wake him up. He almost showed up late for roll call today.”
Gao Wenjun, walking with them, curiously asked, “Does Qi Xu have some illness? If it’s physical, I can take him to the clinic to get a medical excuse.”
“Thanks for caring, but he’s healthy,” Xie Huai said without looking at the speaker. “He’ll bounce back in a few days.”
As for how he would recover — nothing was more crushing than when Qi Xu opened his eyes to see the all-too-familiar stew pot on the table.
