If you asked Bian Ting what he liked about Meng Xin, he could talk for three days and nights without stopping.
Bian Ting first noticed Meng Xin during the beginning of their freshman year.
At that time, Bian Ting wasn’t familiar with Meng Xin yet.
He was walking back to his dorm when he saw Meng Xin from a distance.
Meng Xin had just finished class and was heading back to his dorm with a classmate from his class.
As they walked, Bian Ting saw Meng Xin chatting with his friend while casually picking up an empty plastic water bottle that someone had thrown on the ground and tossing it into the recycling bin.
Then, as they passed a shared bike that had been knocked over in the middle of the path, Meng Xin deliberately went over, lifted it up, and placed it back in its original spot to prevent it from blocking the way or tripping anyone.
It was clear that Meng Xin did all of this instinctively, without any particular reason or intention.
When they reached the dormitory, Meng Xin and his classmate went their separate ways.
Outside the dorm, there was a designated area for food deliveries. Some students, unable to make it to the cafeteria between classes, would order takeout in advance and have the delivery drivers leave it there, so they could grab their meals as soon as they got back.
At around 11:30 AM, the area was packed with food orders, enough for twenty to thirty people.
Just then, a suspicious-looking person walked by, hesitated, and then doubled back.
The third time he passed, he glanced around, and seeing that no one was paying attention, he quickly grabbed several orders. Even in such a tense moment, he wasn’t picking at random—
In his hands were fried rice, noodle soup, milk tea, fruit salad, fried chicken snacks… a feast, to say the least.
Then, he took off in a hurry.
But before he could exit the dormitory gate, Meng Xin ran up and grabbed him by the arm, stopping him. “Hey, did you take the wrong order? You can’t just take someone else’s food.”
The guy was carrying seven or eight takeout bags, each hanging from a different finger—even his pinky was fully loaded. He hesitated, but still tried to insist, “This is mine!”
Meng Xin, however, had a surprisingly strong grip. Holding the guy’s arm with one hand, he used the other to quickly check the receipts on the food.
“But the names and phone numbers don’t match. These aren’t yours.”
Meng Xin, still giving the guy a way out, didn’t outright accuse him of stealing. Instead, he offered an escape route: “You must have taken the wrong ones. Please put them back.”
Realizing he’d been caught, the guy tried to struggle free and run, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break Meng Xin’s hold. Instead, he found himself staring at Meng Xin’s puzzled expression.
“…”
Finally, he gave up and gritted his teeth. “Fine, I’ll put them back.”
Bian Ting watched as Meng Xin made sure the guy returned each takeout order one by one, then gave him a serious lecture, telling him not to do it again.
Later, Bian Ting saw people discussing the incident on the university’s anonymous confession board.
[Post] Submission of Good Deeds: Today, our dorm had a takeout thief! This guy stole SEVEN or EIGHT meals at once! Damn, the way he moved, his composure—he was definitely a repeat offender. So disgusting 🤢. But!!! Out of nowhere, a super handsome guy ran up and caught him, and then the thief had to put all the food back… Just want to give a huge shout-out to our dorm’s unknown Takeout Guardian!!! Thank you, Takeout Guardian!!!
P.S. This isn’t just me looking through rose-tinted glasses—this guy was actually super handsome. If anyone knows who he is, please tell me! I forgot to ask for his WeChat!! AHHH!!!
I swear, takeout thieves are the worst. You’re in college, and you still don’t have basic decency?!
Recently, there’s been a surge in takeout theft. My food has been stolen multiple times already—what if it’s the same guy?! Thank you, Takeout Guardian!!!
I can’t stand these thieves… Like, stealing normal food is bad enough, but someone even stole the Chinese medicine my mom sent me to help me recover! Damn it, which gay dude stole my medicinal herbs to cure his homosexuality?!
[Post] You guys are so lucky to have the Takeout Guardian… Yesterday, my takeout got stolen. After struggling through classes, all I wanted was to go back to my dorm and have a decent meal—only to find it gone. 🙂 There wasn’t even enough time to go to the cafeteria before my 2 PM class, so thanks to that damn thief, I had to starve all afternoon!!!
Thank you, Takeout Guardian!!!
Thank you, Takeout Guardian!!!
Thank you, Takeout Guardian!!!
How could someone manage to do three good deeds in just ten minutes?
Bian Ting put down his phone and glanced over at Meng Xin.
Meanwhile, Meng Xin had already forgotten all about the good deeds he had done. He was currently scratching his head, struggling with his advanced math homework. When he noticed Bian Ting looking at him, he blinked in confusion.
He had no idea why Bian Ting was staring at him and wasn’t sure how to react. After a moment of thought, he simply smiled at him with bright, curved eyes.
Of course, it wasn’t just because Meng Xin could pull off three good deeds in ten minutes that Bian Ting liked him.
Meng Xin was a little slow when it came to relationships, but in other aspects, he was remarkably observant.
A week into the semester, Bian Ting still wasn’t very close with his dormmates, and they didn’t interact much. Meng Xin, on the other hand, had already gotten chummy with Huang Wenjie and the others, spending every evening gaming together.
Bian Ting never joined in, making him seem a little out of place.
One night, Meng Xin noticed Bian Ting sitting alone at his desk, looking a bit isolated. He turned to ask, “Bian Ting, are we being too noisy when we play?”
“No,” Bian Ting replied. It wasn’t official quiet hours yet, so there was no reason to ask others to be silent.
Meng Xin let out an “Oh,” then asked, “Are you studying?”
“No.”
“Then why don’t you join us?” Meng Xin asked excitedly. “Come play with us!”
Bian Ting shook his head. “I don’t know how to play.”
“I can teach you! It’s super easy. You’re smart—you’ll get the hang of it in no time.” Then, as if suddenly remembering that Bian Ting might not even like video games, Meng Xin quickly added, “Of course, only if you want to.”
To his surprise, Bian Ting actually agreed. “Okay.”
So Meng Xin helped him create an account and pulled him into their gaming group.
“Pick this support role—it’s the easiest to start with.” Meng Xin chattered away as he tapped around on Bian Ting’s phone. “Then just level up here for now. Once you get out of the beginner zone, add me as a friend…”
That night, Meng Xin played games with Bian Ting for hours. At one point, he even made Bian Ting go through an in-game ceremony to become sworn brothers, saying that way, Bian Ting would always know when he was online.
Before going to bed, Meng Xin sent Bian Ting a message.
It was a cute cat emoji, followed by: [Bian Ting! If you’re ever bored, you can always come find me to play!!]
Bian Ting replied: [Okay.]
Meng Xin wasn’t just good at noticing when someone was left out—he also had an eye for details that most people overlooked.
One time, their dorm decided to order a cake. Huang Wenjie asked, “The shop owner wants to know if we want chocolate or mango filling. What do you guys think?”
Gao Yinghang waved his hand dismissively. “I’m good with either.”
Huang Wenjie turned to the other two. “What about you?”
Meng Xin said, “Let’s go with chocolate. Bian Ting doesn’t eat mango.”
Huang Wenjie was surprised. “Bian Ting, you don’t eat mango?”
Bian Ting nodded. “Yeah.”
“Then chocolate it is! Settled.”
Later, Bian Ting asked Meng Xin, “How did you know I don’t eat mango?”
“I saw you picking them out last time,” Meng Xin replied. “Are you allergic, or do you just not like them?”
Bian Ting hadn’t expected Meng Xin to notice such a small thing. He glanced at him, surprised.
“Allergic.”
“Oh, I see. Got it.” Meng Xin patted Bian Ting’s shoulder. “I’ll remember that!”
When Meng Xin said he would remember something, he really did. From that point on, mango never appeared in front of Bian Ting again. Even mango-flavored snacks were handed off to Huang Wenjie, while Bian Ting got strawberry instead.
There were many little things like this, but they were all too insignificant. If you asked Meng Xin about them, he’d probably have forgotten already.
As Meng Xin was memorizing vocabulary, he noticed that Bian Ting had stopped writing at some point, lost in thought.
“Bian Ting, what are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking about the question you just asked me.”
Earlier, Meng Xin had asked Bian Ting why he liked him. That question sent Bian Ting into deep thought, recalling countless small details.
Meng Xin poked him. “What about it?”
Bian Ting smiled. “I think you’re really cute.”
A straight guy like Meng Xin was completely caught off guard by this compliment from a gay guy. His face instantly grew warm.
And that warmth felt dangerous.
—How dare he use sweet words to confuse him! This scheming gay guy!
“Why are you suddenly complimenting me?” Meng Xin said warily. “You can’t use words that sound this gay on me.”
He had wanted to say it for a long time—how could Bian Ting think he was cute?
No wonder Bian Ting couldn’t figure out which straight guy he liked. Who would associate that word with him, of all people?!
Besides, “cute” was a word for girls with big eyes and sweet smiles. It wasn’t a word for straight guys.
“You don’t like this word?”
Bian Ting, ever agreeable, switched up his phrasing.
“You’re really impressive.”
“You’re powerful.”
“You’re strong and mighty.”
“…”
The words themselves were fine, but coming from Bian Ting—a gay guy—there was just something off about them.
So Meng Xin rejected them too. “No, these don’t work either!”
“They don’t?” Bian Ting asked. “Are they not straight enough?”
…The problem wasn’t the words.
The problem was that gay guys just shouldn’t go around casually complimenting straight guys!
“No.”
Meng Xin said seriously, “Gay guys aren’t allowed to compliment straight guys.”
Bian Ting: “Who said that?”
Meng Xin: “I did.”
“Why?”
“It just isn’t allowed.” Meng Xin declared righteously. “When a straight guy compliments a gay guy, it’s pure appreciation. But when a gay guy compliments a straight guy… well, who knows what that means?”
Like how he could say, “Bian Ting, you’re really handsome,” because he was speaking objectively, from a straight guy’s perspective, purely as a compliment.
But Bian Ting couldn’t do the same in reverse—because that was all part of the cunning schemes of gay guys.
“I’m just appreciating you too,” Bian Ting said.
Meng Xin didn’t believe him. “Are you really that pure?”
Bian Ting shrugged. “Okay, maybe not that pure.”
“But does it even matter? A straight guy getting complimented by a gay guy isn’t going to suddenly turn gay.”
Bian Ting deliberately asked, “Or will he?”
“…”
Well, with that phrasing, there was no way Meng Xin could say yes.
So he loudly declared, “Of course not!”
“Wow,” Bian Ting praised him again. “Such an impressive straight guy.”
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