Meng Xin was struck by lightning.
Still. Like. Him?
So everything he had just said was completely pointless?!
The smile vanished from Meng Xin’s face.
“Say you don’t like him.”
“I still like him.”
“Say you don’t like him!”
“I still like him.”
Meng Xin chanted like a mantra, trying to brainwash him, “Say you don’t like him, say you don’t like him, say you don’t like him…”
But Bian Ting remained unwavering. “I still like him.”
Meng Xin was completely defeated.
He started knocking his head against the desk, making a dull “thud, thud” sound.
Bian Ting reached out to cushion his forehead, lifting his head up. “Don’t do that, it hurts.”
But Meng Xin, fully embracing his meltdown, let the weight of his head rest entirely in Bian Ting’s hand. He even deliberately rubbed against his palm while muttering under his breath, “You’re not allowed to like him, you’re not allowed to like him, you’re not allowed to like him…”
Yet, Bian Ting still said, “I still like him.”
Meng Xin’s eyes widened in fury. “Bian Ting, I’m gonna get mad!”
Bian Ting simply patted his head like soothing an upset cat. “Don’t be mad.”
“I hate that you drank because of him.” Realizing that whining wasn’t working, Meng Xin resorted to threats. “If this happens again, I won’t come pick you up, and I won’t make tea for you either!”
“There won’t be a next time,” Bian Ting said. “I promise.”
Meng Xin didn’t believe Bian Ting’s promises one bit.
How many times can you actually trust a guy’s words? Huang Wenjie had been saying, “I’m definitely gonna get a girlfriend this semester!” since the first day of school, yet he still spent every day glued to his gaming chair in the dorm, all talk and no action.
So Meng Xin decided to keep an eye on Bian Ting himself.
He was going to invade every aspect of Bian Ting’s daily life, keeping him too busy to be sad and making sure that shameless straight guy had no chance to make a move.
This time, he was serious. He stuck to Bian Ting like glue, even more than before, and—most importantly—he wasn’t giving up anytime soon.
At first, Bian Ting didn’t even notice his plan.
Not until one afternoon, during a lecture, when he casually glanced out the window and saw Meng Xin standing outside, waiting.
This was a specialized class, not a big general lecture with hundreds of students. Normally, Meng Xin wouldn’t be here.
Bian Ting’s attention drifted to the person outside, and he couldn’t help but smile.
A classmate sitting nearby leaned over to peek at his notes and asked, “Bian Ting, what’s so funny about the name ‘Meng Xin’?”
Bian Ting blinked. “What?”
The classmate pointed at his notebook. “Well, you just randomly wrote his name and then started smiling. Is he a comedian or something? Has he acted in anything?”
That’s when Bian Ting realized—he had absentmindedly scribbled Meng Xin’s name on his book while zoning out.
“No.” Bian Ting forced himself to tear his gaze away from the window. His voice still carried a faint smile. “He’s my roommate.”
…
Before long, everyone around Bian Ting noticed something unusual. Lately, he and his roommate were practically inseparable—always together right after class.
Of course, this was all part of Meng Xin’s strategy, his carefully planned psychological warfare.
—He wanted everyone to know that Bian Ting had a fiercely protective friend. Ideally, word would even spread to that shameless straight guy, scaring him off before he even dared to make a move.
Since Meng Xin kept showing up, Bian Ting started leaving class unusually fast—bolting the second the bell rang.
His behavior didn’t go unnoticed. One of his classmates teased, “Bian Ting, who’s that person waiting for you outside every day?”
Bian Ting chuckled softly. “Someone I like.”
“Wow, that’s cute! Boyfriend?”
But Bian Ting shook his head. “Not yet.”
Meng Xin stuck to Bian Ting for days, but not once did he catch sight of the straight guy he supposedly liked.
That made no sense.
If Bian Ting liked someone, wouldn’t that person at least show up in his life from time to time?
Unless… was Bian Ting in an online relationship? Meng Xin wondered.
If it really was an online relationship—well, who could even say for sure if the guy Bian Ting liked was actually straight?
But then again, Bian Ting didn’t seem like the type to seek emotional comfort from the vast, untouchable world of the internet. If Meng Xin hadn’t dragged him into gaming in the first place, he probably wouldn’t even play. Online dating? Even less likely.
So Meng Xin started closely monitoring Bian Ting’s online activities.
He logged into their game and checked—Bian Ting hadn’t been online much lately. When he did log in, it was only to play solo bot matches in the competitive arena. His friend list was still the same as before, no unfamiliar names.
That meant Bian Ting couldn’t have met the straight guy through gaming.
Next, Meng Xin began observing Bian Ting’s chats.
Bian Ting wasn’t much of an online talker. The only people he regularly messaged on WeChat were close friends—and, of course, Meng Xin himself. It took days before Meng Xin finally caught him in the middle of a conversation.
He wasn’t sure who Bian Ting was talking to. The profile picture wasn’t Zhang Yiming’s, nor was it anyone Meng Xin recognized.
His instincts went on high alert. Casually, he walked past Bian Ting—then suddenly stopped and took a step back, pretending it was just a coincidence.
Feigning nonchalance, he asked, “Who are you texting?”
“The class rep.”
Meng Xin let out an “Oh,” but subtly leaned in to get a better look.
Bian Ting seemed to pick up on his intentions and asked, “Do you want to see?”
Meng Xin put on an act, looking conflicted. “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”
Without hesitation, Bian Ting placed his phone in front of him and, right in front of his eyes, scrolled through his entire contact list—twice.
Only after reaching the very end did he find the class rep’s chat again.
He sent a picture from his album.
Then he turned the screen toward Meng Xin. “I was submitting my Youth Study screenshot.”
—
Meng Xin messaged Fan Da: [Dude, Bian Ting’s contact list is way too clean. Every name is in full, with their major listed. Not a single flirty nickname. Can you believe that?]
Fan Da didn’t answer whether he could believe it or not. Instead, he replied: [I can summarize your actions with just one phrase.]
Then, he sent over a four-character idiom: [Guarding the house while stealing from it.] (监守自盗)
Meng Xin: […]
Meng Xin: [Don’t misuse idioms! I’m not stealing anything!!!]
He emphasized once again: [I’m straight. You get it? I only like girls, never guys. I’d never go after my bro. 100% straight.]
Fan Da didn’t reply for a long time.
Meng Xin: [Why aren’t you saying anything?]
Fan Da: [I’m just repenting.]
Fan Da: [Back when you were looking for a meal buddy, you told me you were straight. And I actually believed you.]
Fan Da: [And when I told you I was gay, I actually felt nervous about it.]
Then, he sent a message that simply said: [Amen.]
Followed by: [I repent.]
Meng Xin: […………]
Meng Xin was too tired to keep insisting he was straight, so he just replied with a single word: “Scram.”
—
Despite all his efforts, Meng Xin was still completely clueless about who Bian Ting liked.
Realizing that one person alone wasn’t enough to solve this mystery, he decided to recruit an ally.
Without telling Bian Ting, he secretly approached Zhang Yiming and bribed him with a bowl of small-pot rice noodles.
Over the steaming meal, he said, “As Bian Ting’s friends, we can’t let him keep going on like this. Don’t you agree?”
Zhang Yiming didn’t quite understand what he was getting at, but he still nodded and said, “Makes sense.”
Meng Xin was too lazy to keep emphasizing that he was straight, so he simply replied with a single word: “Scram.”
Meng Xin still had no clue about who exactly Bian Ting liked.
Feeling that his own efforts were too weak alone, he decided to find an ally.
He secretly reached out to Zhang Yiming behind Bian Ting’s back and treated him to a bowl of hotpot rice noodles.
He said to Zhang Yiming, “As Bian Ting’s friends, we can’t just let him keep going like this. Don’t you agree?”
Zhang Yiming didn’t quite understand what he was getting at, but still nodded, “Makes sense.”
Meng Xin was pleased with his cooperation.
He continued, “I want to know who that straight guy is.”
So it turned out to be an ambush. Zhang Yiming had just fished a meatball out of the pot but silently put it back in.
Under the table, he frantically typed on his phone: “Someone’s asking me about the person you like. What should I say? What should I do? Should I just tell him to look in a mirror? Hurry up and reply, aaaaahhh!”
After stuffing his phone back into his pocket, Zhang Yiming looked at Meng Xin and asked, “Why are you so curious about this?”
Then he added, “Ah, but I can’t say. You should ask Bian Ting himself.”
Meng Xin decided to use the reverse psychology trick: “You actually don’t know who it is, right? You only know it’s some straight guy.”
“No, no, we all know.”
Meng Xin caught the key word: “We…? Who else?”
“Oh, it’s not really a secret,” Zhang Yiming said casually. “During a high school reunion over summer break, a female classmate lost a game of Truth or Dare. She chose ‘Dare,’ and everyone hyped her up to go kiss Bian Ting…”
At that time, Bian Ting had said, “That’s not appropriate. I already like someone.”
After that, the gathering turned into a gossip session, with everyone pressing Bian Ting for the identity of the person he liked.
Zhang Yiming didn’t go into further details but simply said, “Basically, all of our high school friends know about it.”
“If it’s not a secret, then why didn’t Bian Ting tell me? I don’t believe it,” Meng Xin said. “Unless you tell me who it is.”
“Sigh, if Bian Ting didn’t tell you, he must have his reasons,” Zhang Yiming said with a complicated expression. “As his friend, I definitely can’t tell you either.”
“But don’t worry,” Zhang Yiming, after waiting forever without getting a response from Bian Ting, decided to freestyle a bit. “That person is both far away and right in front of you. Bian Ting will tell you one day.”
Meng Xin went back to the dorm in a terrible mood.
So everyone knows who Bian Ting likes—except him?!
He had thought that Bian Ting wasn’t telling anyone. Turns out Bian Ting told literally everyone, just not him.
And Zhang Yiming was tight-lipped as hell—no matter how many hints Meng Xin dropped, he wouldn’t spill anything.
Normally, Meng Xin wasn’t all that nosy about other people’s love lives, but this was different—Bian Ting was his best friend!
How could he be left out like this?!
Frustrated, Meng Xin angrily opened his contact list and started interrogating his friends.
He first bothered his childhood friend: “Do you have someone you like?”
His childhood friend replied: “Are you stupid? You already know who I like.”
See? See?! This is the normal reaction!
His childhood friend had been crushing on a girl for three years and had told him right away—Meng Xin had even helped him confess a few times.
Next, Meng Xin harassed his troublemaker friend: “Do you have someone you like?”
Troublemaker friend: “Truth or Dare? Anyway, I already have a girlfriend, don’t bother me.”
Troublemaker friend: “[Picture][Picture][Picture]”
Troublemaker friend: “This is my girlfriend, pretty, right?”
Troublemaker friend: “[Picture][Picture][Picture]”
Troublemaker friend: “These are our couple selfies, jealous yet?”
Meng Xin unexpectedly took a face full of PDA, immediately regretting asking him.
Then, he went to pester the class monitor: “Class monitor, do you have someone you like?”
Class monitor: “Ahhh, you noticed?!”
Before Meng Xin could even respond, the class monitor sent over a 60-second voice message:
“Meng Xin! Since you asked, help me analyze this! This morning, I sent her a funny video, and in the afternoon, she replied with ‘hahahahaha.’ Usually, she only types three ‘ha’s, but today she typed five! Does this mean she’s starting to like me? What should I reply with? Do you think I should—”
Meng Xin never expected that the class monitor, who always seemed mature and responsible, would turn into this kind of mess when he had a crush.
Meng Xin really wanted to help him.
But as someone who had been single since birth, he had no clue what to say.
Meng Xin went around prying into everyone’s love lives. By the time he was done, he had basically interrogated every slightly familiar friend in his contacts. At this point, he had the most up-to-date, first-hand gossip on campus.
Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought he was gathering material to start a matchmaking service.
And among everyone he harassed—if they had a crush on someone, they all told him without hesitation.
Except for Bian Ting.
Not a single word.
The stark contrast seriously pissed Meng Xin off.
Was Bian Ting really that secretive?
First of all, the guy he liked was just some shameless straight dude, not some once-in-a-lifetime celestial being. And Meng Xin had already promised he wouldn’t do anything to that person. So why was Bian Ting guarding this secret like his life depended on it? Was he that in love?!
Second, Meng Xin thought they were close. Maybe not Bian Ting’s closest friend, but they literally lived under the same roof, saw each other all day, every day—that had to count for something, right? At the very least, wasn’t he closer to Bian Ting than a bunch of old high school classmates?
And finally—he wasn’t even gay. It’s not like he was gonna steal Bian Ting’s man.
Meng Xin was furious.
And when he was furious, there were consequences.
This time, he was really going to cut ties with Bian Ting.
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