Bian Ting scrolled through his feed and saw Meng Xin’s latest post.
Meng Xin: “I’M SO MAD!!!!!!!!!!”
Six exclamation marks. That meant he was seriously pissed.
Bian Ting immediately messaged him.
Bian Ting: “What happened?”
Meng Xin: “YOU’VE GOT SOME NERVE TO ASK ME!!!!!!!!!!”
Again, six exclamation marks, dripping with rage and betrayal.
Meng Xin: “Bian Ting, I have something to say to you. You better get your ass back to the dorm RIGHT NOW—before Huang Wenjie and Gao Yinghang get back. Otherwise, I’m gonna KICK YOU SO HARD!!!!”
This scenario felt way too familiar.
Bian Ting had a sinking feeling—that post, the exclamation marks… they were all aimed at him.
He didn’t waste another second and replied immediately.
Bian Ting: “Okay, ten minutes.”
Meng Xin sat in the dorm, watching the clock like a hawk.
Every now and then, he’d glance at the door. At the slightest sound, he would straighten his back, puff out his chest, and prepare for battle.
On the desk in front of him lay a carefully handwritten “breakup” letter.
As soon as Bian Ting arrived, he was going to slap that paper right in his face.
Bian Ting barely made it back in time, stepping into the dorm at the last possible second.
He had run the whole way—his breathing was still a little unsteady when he reached the door.
But the moment he pushed it open and saw Meng Xin, he instinctively held his breath.
Meng Xin was already in position, dramatically posing like a war general. It was exactly like that time outside the library when he tried to “cut ties” with Bian Ting before—his energy was overwhelming, his aura unstoppable.
“You’re back?” Meng Xin’s tone was cold, like a judge about to hand down a verdict.
Translation: “You actually have the nerve to show up?”
Meng Xin puffed up like an angry little pufferfish and glared at him.
“Bian Ting, listen up. I’m really pissed off right now.”
Bian Ting barely held back the urge to pinch his cheek. With an amused smile, he asked, “What did I do this time?”
Meng Xin took a deep breath and said seriously, “Zhang Yiming told me—”
“All your high school friends already know who you like.”
Bian Ting blinked. “So… you’re mad because you’re curious?”
“I’M NOT CURIOUS!!” Meng Xin snapped, then immediately contradicted himself:
“If you weren’t my friend, I wouldn’t give a damn about who you like!”
Bian Ting asked, “Then what’s the reason?”
Meng Xin couldn’t hold it in anymore and blurted out, “Why do you tell everyone else who you like but not me?”
He pointed an accusing finger at him. “You don’t even consider me a friend!”
Bian Ting fell silent.
Seeing this, Meng Xin knew their friendship was over for real this time.
“I’m cutting ties with you.” With a loud slam, he threw the written breakup letter onto the desk with full force.
“Two copies, signed and ready.” Meng Xin’s voice was cold and decisive. “Sign your name right now, and from this moment on, we’ll go our separate ways. I don’t care which shameless straight guy you like anymore.”
Still, Bian Ting said nothing.
Meng Xin glared at him, waiting. His eyes were getting sore from staring, but Bian Ting remained silent.
The longer the silence stretched, the more his righteous fury started to lose steam.
“Say something.” Meng Xin demanded.
He was about to run out of momentum when Bian Ting finally lifted his eyes and spoke, his tone calm and unhurried.
“Meng Xin, you’re not even gay. Why do you care who I like?”
Meng Xin froze.
But he quickly recovered and regained his fighting stance.
“Because we’re friends! Why do they get to know, but I don’t?”
“So if they care, you tell them—but if I care, you don’t?”
Meng Xin doubled down on his accusation. “You don’t see me as a friend at all!”
Silence.
Meng Xin shoved the breakup letter closer and stuffed a pen into Bian Ting’s hand. “Sign it.”
Bian Ting didn’t move.
Meng Xin poked him twice. “Hurry up.”
Instead, Bian Ting put the pen down.
Meng Xin scoffed. “Regretting it now? Too late! Hah! You’ve lost me forever—the most gentle, thoughtful, and caring best bro you’ll ever have!”
He poked Bian Ting again, twice. “Sign it.”
A long pause.
Then Bian Ting finally spoke.
“You’re right. I never saw you as a friend.”
Meng Xin laughed coldly. “Ha, I knew it—”
“I saw you as my secret crush.”
Bian Ting lifted his gaze and looked directly at him. “If I told you, how was I supposed to keep liking you in secret?”
“Ha, I kn—” Meng Xin was mid-scoff when it hit him.
“…Huh?”
Bian Ting tapped the two breakup letters and asked, “If I sign this, are you going to compensate me for the loss of my secret crush? Or should I just switch to openly pursuing you?”
“Huh…?”
Meng Xin felt like he no longer understood Chinese.
Bian Ting said, “What do you mean ‘huh’? I’m confessing to you. Give me a straight answer.”
Meng Xin’s brain completely crashed. His once imposing aura evaporated, and he stammered, “Wh-what kind of person confesses so suddenly…?”
“Then take back your breakup letter and let me keep crushing on you in secret.”
“Th-that’s not right either…” Meng Xin mumbled, still dazed. “I already know now…”
“Then let me sign my name, and you become my boyfriend.” Bian Ting picked up the pen and pretended to sign the breakup letter.
“Th-this doesn’t seem right either…” Meng Xin’s face burned red as he snatched the breakup letter from Bian Ting’s hands. “This is a breakup letter, not a love contract…”
“So this doesn’t work, that doesn’t work—now I’ve lost my friend, my crush, and I didn’t even get a boyfriend.” Bian Ting sighed and repeated Meng Xin’s words mockingly, “How could there be a more miserable gay guy than me?”
“It’s not that dramatic…” Meng Xin quickly crumpled up the breakup letter and stuffed it into his pocket. “…Fine, I won’t cut ties with you.”
“Then can I still secretly like you?” Bian Ting persisted.
“……”
“……”
Bian Ting lowered his gaze, pursing his lips.
Meng Xin couldn’t handle this. He warned him, “Don’t pull this trick on me.”
Bian Ting, understandingly, turned his head away—deliberately avoiding Meng Xin’s gaze without a word.
Meng Xin: “……”
Logically, out of sight should mean out of mind, but somehow, Meng Xin felt like if he didn’t allow Bian Ting to keep crushing on him, he’d be an absolute jerk.
“…Fine, fine!” Meng Xin gave in, his face completely flushed. “Just… don’t make it too obvious.”
Bian Ting finally turned back to look at him.
His gaze was direct and unfiltered.
Meng Xin could feel the heat rising to his ears. He stiffly reminded him, “I just said—don’t make it too obvious…”
Bian Ting reluctantly toned it down… slightly.
“Got it.” Bian Ting paused and then asked, “What counts as ‘too obvious’?”
Meng Xin’s brain was about to overheat. How the hell was he supposed to know?
“…Figure it out yourself.”
Then, like a startled rabbit, he scrambled up to his bed, yanked the curtain shut in one swift motion—completely sealing himself off.
A total retreat.
His voice came from behind the curtain, highly deliberate: “I’m going to sleep now!”
“I’m going to sleep for fifteen hours. From now until noon tomorrow. You’re not allowed to talk to me or make a single sound!”
At this very moment, Meng Xin’s mind was in absolute chaos.
“Wait… so I’m the shameless straight guy?”
“No way… I’M the shameless straight guy???”
“Holy sh*t—I’M the shameless straight guy!!!”
So the person Bian Ting liked… was him.
Meng Xin’s face burned hotter. It was almost painful. He buried his face into his pillow, desperately trying to suffocate himself.
What now?!
Bian Ting liked him. If he were into guys, he’d just accept it.
But he was straight!
Meng Xin rolled back and forth on his bed three times, but still couldn’t think of a solution.
Finally, he grabbed his phone and searched:
“What should a straight guy do if his gay best friend confesses to him?”
He clicked on the post with the most replies.
The top comment was filled with dense blocks of text, all saying the same thing:
【RIP, bro. Two dudes liking each other is disgusting.】
Meng Xin: “……”
Meng Xin didn’t think Bian Ting was disgusting.
Comment #2: 【RIP bro, can’t believe he even went after his best friend. What a complete freak. Absolute scum.】
Meng Xin: “……”
He didn’t think Bian Ting was a freak either.
Comment #3: 【RIP bro, you don’t need a friend like that. Just cut him off.】
Meng Xin: “……”
He didn’t want to cut Bian Ting off.
After reading three comments, he backed out of the thread.
The whole post was just people “feeling bad for the poor straight guy” while trashing the gay guy for confessing. But not a single person had given an actual, useful solution.
Maybe he shouldn’t have asked straight guys about this in the first place.
What did straight guys even know about gay guys?
He didn’t understand. They didn’t understand.
He needed to ask someone who actually understood.
So, he sent a message to Fan Da.
Meng Xin: [You awake?]
Fan Da: [Asleep.]
Meng Xin: [Why did you say that twice?]
Fan Da: [I thought your internet was lagging and you didn’t see that I’m asleep.]
Meng Xin: [Cut the crap. It’s barely midnight. What college student sleeps this early?]
Meng Xin was determined to talk about this. He forced the conversation in a completely abrupt direction.
Meng Xin: [By the way, have you ever liked a straight guy?]
Fan Da: [Why are you asking?]
Fan Da: [We’re just casual meal buddies, don’t overstep your boundaries.]
Meng Xin: [I can’t ask that? Fine, I’ll rephrase.]
Meng Xin: [Hypothetically, just hypothetically—if a gay guy confessed to his straight best friend, what should the straight guy do?]
Fan Da immediately responded.
Fan Da: [He should just say yes.]
Meng Xin: [BUT HE’S STRAIGHT!]
Fan Da: [Then he should say yes even more directly than the gay guy.]
Meng Xin: [I SAID HE’S STRAIGHT!!!]
Fan Da: [You said this was hypothetical, why are you so worked up? …Wait, don’t tell me this actually happened?]
Meng Xin: [Nope. Just asking randomly.]
For once, Fan Da didn’t mess around. He just sent a simple “Oh.”
Fan Da: [Are we done here? If we are, I’m going to sleep.]
Meng Xin: [Don’t sleep yet, chat with me a bit longer.]
Meng Xin threw out another question: [Do you think I’m cute?]
Bian Ting had said before that he liked cute people.
Meng Xin really couldn’t understand—did the word “cute” have anything to do with him at all? Or did gay guys see people differently than straight guys did?
Fan Da: […………]
Fan Da: […………………]
Fan Da: […………………………]
A full screen of ellipses flooded the chat.
It was like Fan Da had never been this speechless before.
Meng Xin immediately regretted asking him that question.
Fan Da: [Spare me.]
Fan Da: [Normally, I’d just let this slide, but today I had Xinjiang fried rice noodles. I don’t want to throw up.]
Meng Xin: [.]
Meng Xin: [Forget it. Pretend I never asked.]
Fan Da sent a “hehe” and said:
[Too late.]
[I now know that Bian Ting likes you, Bian Ting confessed to you, and Bian Ting thinks you’re cute.]
……Shit!
Meng Xin’s eyes widened. It was the middle of the night, and he couldn’t make a sound, so he had to silently punch the air in frustration.
Meng Xin: [AHHHHHHH I NEVER SAID IT WAS BIAN TING!!!!!!]
Fan Da: [It’s fine, you don’t have to. I knew it was Bian Ting from the very first message you sent me.]
Fan Da: [Relax, I get it. Our friendship might be fake, but our telepathy is real.]
Meng Xin threw his phone aside and screamed internally.
Like a pancake on a griddle, he flipped from one side of the bed to the other—then back again.
Once he was properly cooked on both sides, he sat up and grabbed his phone.
Meng Xin: [Bullshit!!!]
Meng Xin: [You don’t get it at all!!!]
Fan Da: [I get it. He loves you.]
Meng Xin: [YOU DON’T GET IT.]
Fan Da: [I get it. You love him too.]
Meng Xin: [YOU REALLY DON’T GET IT.]
Fan Da: [I do. I’ve been shipping you two for ages.]
Meng Xin was at his breaking point.
Furiously, he typed: [I’m done talking to you. You gay guys are impossible to reason with!!!]
Meng Xin flopped back into bed.
His heart felt exhausted.
This world… was too polarized. Straight guys understood straight guys but not gay guys. Gay guys understood gay guys but not straight guys.
Maybe, when straight and gay people could finally understand each other, the world would truly be at peace.
The only question was…
Would he live long enough to see that day?
———
Five minutes later.
Meng Xin: [It’s really not Bian Ting.]
Fan Da: [Buy me Xinjiang fried rice noodles.]
Meng Xin: [I’M SERIOUS. IT’S NOT BIAN TING.]
Fan Da: [BUY ME XINJIANG FRIED RICE NOODLES.]
Meng Xin, exhausted, tried to shut him up with force.
Meng Xin: [Will Xinjiang fried rice noodles make you shut up?]
Fan Da: [No, but you can put it on Bian Ting’s tab.]
Meng Xin: [I’M CUTTING YOU OFF.]
Fan Da: [Oh no. I’m devastated.]
In his final act of vengeance, Meng Xin cursed Fan Da to go a whole week without eating Xinjiang fried rice noodles.
Then, he angrily exited the chat.
This was destined to be a sleepless night.
At 3 AM, Meng Xin shot up from his bed and lifted a corner of the bed curtain.
The dormitory was silent, everyone fast asleep.
He could even hear Huang Wenjie snoring.
Meng Xin glanced toward Bian Ting’s bed—there wasn’t a single glow of light or sound coming from it.
—Bian Ting actually managed to fall asleep?
Is this how all gay guys are?
They can confess to a straight guy and then just sleep soundly like it’s nothing?
Gay guys really are terrible creatures!
Meng Xin couldn’t sleep, and since he couldn’t think of a solution, he turned to his phone for distraction.
He tapped into every single app, out of pure boredom, clearing all the red notification dots one by one. He even went through his spam emails just to mark them as read.
When he opened WeChat, he felt annoyed all over again.
Bian Ting didn’t even send him a single message!
But then, Meng Xin noticed something else—
Tonight, their four-person dorm group chat was exceptionally lively.
Their dorm group chat was usually dead silent.
If anyone needed to talk, they would do it in person. If it was something private, they would just DM. The only time the chat saw any activity was when they had to split the electricity bill.
But tonight was different—
There were over twenty unread messages.
Meng Xin clicked in and scrolled to the first message.
At around 10 PM, Huang Wenjie had sent the first line:
Huang Wenjie: 【Bian Ting, why aren’t you saying anything?】
Bian Ting: 【Someone told me not to make a sound because they were trying to sleep.】
Huang Wenjie was indignant:
Huang Wenjie: 【Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous! How dare Meng Xin, the lowest-ranking member of this dorm, silence our noble and highly esteemed godfather?】
Gao Yinghang joined in:
Gao Yinghang: 【Today, he tells our godfather to be quiet. Tomorrow, he’ll be ordering him to fetch tea and water. The day after, he’ll be overthrowing the system and seizing power!】
Huang Wenjie: 【This kid, Meng Xin…】
Then, the two of them started playing a four-character idiom game, roasting Meng Xin.
Huang Wenjie: 【目無尊長 (No respect for elders)】
Gao Yinghang: 【目中無人 (Sees no one as important)】
Huang Wenjie: 【沒大沒小 (Lacks manners)】
Gao Yinghang: 【無法無天 (Lawless and unruly)】
Huang Wenjie: 【不成體統 (Completely improper)】
Gao Yinghang: 【禮崩樂壞 (Total moral collapse)】
Finally, they united in a final judgment:
Huang Wenjie: 【This kid, Meng Xin, is completely spoiled!】
Gao Yinghang: 【This kid, Meng Xin, is completely spoiled!】
And then—
Huang Wenjie: 【What does godfather say? @Bian Ting】
Gao Yinghang: 【What does godfather say? @Bian Ting】
Meng Xin scrolled down to see Bian Ting’s only reply from five hours ago—
Bian Ting: 【It’s fine. I’m the one spoiling him.】
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