At 3 a.m., Meng Xin was still tossing and turning in bed.
He really wanted to walk over to Bian Ting’s bed, shake him awake, and ask why he told someone that he wasn’t boyfriend material.
But Bian Ting wasn’t the type to badmouth people casually.
Meng Xin couldn’t figure out what he’d done recently to offend Bian Ting.
After racking his brain, the only thing he could think of was that he’d been asking Bian Ting to bring him food more often.
Could it be that Bian Ting found bringing food for him too annoying?
Especially since small pot rice noodles came with soup — hard to carry without spilling. You had to be extra careful, or one wrong move, and the soup would splash everywhere.
But then Meng Xin felt even more wronged. If Bian Ting didn’t want to bring him food, he could’ve just said so. Why talk behind his back?
It wasn’t like Meng Xin had to make him do it!
After stewing over it for hours, Meng Xin finally made a decision:
From now on, no matter how lazy or busy he was, he’d go to the cafeteria himself. He’d never ask Bian Ting to grab food for him again.
The next day, Meng Xin showed up to class with massive dark circles under his eyes.
His classmates asked, “Meng Xin, what were you doing last night?”
Meng Xin waved his hand dismissively, “Ugh, contemplating life. Don’t ask.”
Meng Xin didn’t reach out to Bian Ting all day.
No funny videos, no weird memes, no random whining like “I’m so tired” or “Why isn’t class over yet” — nothing.
He still replied when Bian Ting messaged him in the morning, but barely.
Bian Ting: [Picture]
Bian Ting: “This morning’s clouds.”
Meng Xin: “Wow, pretty.”
And that was the only conversation they had all day.
Bian Ting couldn’t focus in the library. Every few minutes, he glanced at his phone.
He couldn’t let it go like this. So, he opened their chat.
Bian Ting: “I’ll head back at six. What do you want to eat?”
Meng Xin: “No need! I’m already in Cafeteria 4.”
Bian Ting: “Who are you with?”
Meng Xin: “Just me.”
Meng Xin: “Oh, and you don’t have to bring me food anymore. Thanks for helping me before, haha.”
Something felt off.
Meng Xin was the type to throw a string of “ha”s into every message. But this time, there were only three — tacked onto a “thank you.”
Bian Ting: “What’s wrong?”
Bian Ting: “Are you upset?”
Meng Xin muttered to himself, “Of course, it’s because of you.” But he typed:
Meng Xin: “No, I just feel bad for always bothering you, haha.”
Worried that Bian Ting might overthink, he added:
Meng Xin: “Besides, I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf. No more laziness!”
Bian Ting: “It’s not a bother.”
He opened Meng Xin’s WeChat Moments.
Sure enough, Meng Xin had posted at 4 a.m.
Meng Xin: “From now on, I’m going to the cafeteria myself!”
The post had a bunch of comments.
Friend A: “What, you broke or something?”
Friend B: “What kind of meal requires your personal presence?”
Friend C: “Seriously? If you’re going, bring me something too.”
Friend D: “I’ll test this out. I’ll bring you food tonight — what do you want?”
Meng Xin replied to each one.
To A: “Shut up. I’m striving to become a self-sufficient, disciplined adult. You wouldn’t understand.”
To B: “The small pot rice noodles in Cafeteria 4 are amazing [frustrated emoji].”
To C: “Fine, fine. Guess I can’t abandon my dear child.”
To D: “Stop tempting me!! I swear I’m done asking people to bring me food!!”
And at the bottom of all those comments, Bian Ting had left one too.
Bian Ting: “Want me to go with you?”
Meng Xin didn’t reply for a while.
When he finally did, he said:
Meng Xin: “No need, no need. Our class schedules don’t match — it’d be too much trouble!”
Meng Xin lasted five whole days eating in the cafeteria by himself, powered by sheer will.
During those five days, his meal choices steadily declined.
For the first two days, he went to the “sacred” Cafeteria 4. He even posted a few Moments, like:
“Dine-in is actually pretty nice!” “Cafeteria 4 has so many delicious options!” “I love eating!”
“Small pot rice noodles taste even better fresh, sob sob.”
By the third day, exhaustion set in. He downgraded to Cafeteria 2, near the teaching buildings, grabbing whatever he could from the self-serve section.
On the fourth day, he couldn’t even be bothered to walk to Cafeteria 2. After class, he just stopped by the convenience store downstairs for some oden.
By the fifth day, he’d officially joined the ranks of students ordering cheap takeout.
Holding a flimsy black plastic spoon, eating a free sausage he got from following a store, Meng Xin stared at his reflection and wailed:
“Meng Xin, how did you sink this low?!”
For some reason, he didn’t want Bian Ting to see him like this.
He scarfed down his ¥9.9 meal as fast as possible, then snuck out to throw away the trash like he was disposing of evidence.
Meng Xin was devastated.
He’d gotten way too used to the comfort of Bian Ting helping him out. It was true — luxury is easy to get used to, but hardship is tough to endure again.
But he couldn’t entirely blame himself.
Their dorm was just too far from the cafeteria.
He couldn’t go on like this.
He decided to find a meal buddy.
Maybe if he had someone to go with, he’d stick it out.
Meng Xin found a meal buddy pretty quickly.
His name was Fan Da, and he said he’d recently recovered from an illness. After that, he wanted to turn over a new leaf and eat healthy — so he figured having a meal buddy would help them both stay accountable.
Meng Xin felt too embarrassed to admit that he was just trying to prove to his roommate that he didn’t need someone to bring him food. That sounded too childish, like something a kid would do out of spite.
So his official reason became: “I’ve decided to become a responsible college student who eats on time!”
Though, when Fan Da saw him in person, his first comment was:
“You look pretty healthy to me.”
Of course, he was healthy.
With Bian Ting around, Meng Xin never missed a meal, no matter how lazy or busy he was.
Sometimes, he even worked out with Bian Ting.
Still, Meng Xin coughed awkwardly and played along:
“… Sub-health. You know, like, borderline unhealthy.”
Fan Da was cheerful and talkative. On their first meal together, he rattled off a mountain of gossip — who knows where he even got all that info.
Meng Xin found it pretty entertaining, though.
They chatted for so long that by the time Meng Xin finished eating, it was already 8 p.m.
That’s when Bian Ting messaged him.
Bian Ting: “You’re eating this late?”
Bian Ting: “Are you alone again?”
Meng Xin: “No, no, I’m with Fan Da.”
Bian Ting knew who Fan Da was.
A couple of days ago, when Meng Xin said he didn’t want to bother him anymore, he also mentioned finding someone with a more compatible schedule — and that person was Fan Da.
Realizing how late it was, Meng Xin said goodbye to Fan Da and started walking back to the dorm.
On the way, he messaged Bian Ting:
Meng Xin: “Bian Ting, I just heard the wildest gossip. Apparently, our old academic advisor got divorced and started dating a student.”
Bian Ting: “The one who got fired a while back?”
Meng Xin: “Yeah.”
Meng Xin had absorbed so much secondhand gossip that day that he completely forgot he was mad at Bian Ting.
He dumped every juicy detail he’d gotten from Fan Da straight to the person he was closest to — Bian Ting.
Meng Xin: “Also, the advisor is a guy. And the student is a guy too.”
Meng Xin: “So crazy.”
Meng Xin: “I’m shook.”
Meng Xin: “This is so absurd.”
Bian Ting’s reaction was oddly muted, and he completely missed the point:
Bian Ting: “Did Fan Da tell you that too?”
Meng Xin: “Yeah! Dude, Fan Da knows so much gossip.”
Meng Xin: “Eating with him is actually pretty fun hahahahaha.”
The “meal buddy” strategy worked like a charm. For three whole days, Meng Xin didn’t bother Bian Ting at all and went to the cafeteria with Fan Da instead.
Bian Ting had assumed Meng Xin’s “I’m turning over a new leaf” moment would last all of five minutes, so he was surprised when Meng Xin stuck with it — and even found himself a dedicated meal buddy.
Lately, Meng Xin had been mentioning Fan Da a lot, mostly to emphasize how committed he was to changing his lazy ways and how he definitely wouldn’t trouble Bian Ting to bring him food anymore.
— Surely, Bian Ting wouldn’t have anything to complain about now, right?
Turns out, wrong.
That evening, Fan Da suddenly messaged him.
Fan Da: “Oh, by the way, I keep forgetting to mention this — I’m gay.”
Fan Da: “I thought it was pretty obvious, but I figured I’d let you know anyway.”
Fan Da: “You noticed, right?”
Meng Xin: “.”
Meng Xin: “No.”
Was it obvious?
Meng Xin wracked his brain, but he couldn’t figure out what signs he’d missed.
He genuinely hadn’t met many gay people before — Fan Da was the first one he actually knew.
For a second, Meng Xin was a little shook.
— His new meal buddy was gay?!
Were there really that many gay people at their school? He’d always thought it was a rare thing.
Fan Da: “Do you mind? If you do, that’s okay.”
Fan Da: “Just let me know in advance if you wanna cut ties, alright?”
After the initial surprise, Meng Xin realized it really didn’t matter.
He just needed someone to eat with — whether that person was gay or not made no difference at all.
After all, his requirements for a meal buddy had only been three things:
A person.
Male.
Capable of feeding themselves independently.
Meng Xin: “It’s cool, I don’t mind. Wanna grab lunch tomorrow?”
Fan Da: “OK, OK!”
The next day, they were sitting in the cafeteria, and Meng Xin couldn’t help but sneak a couple of glances at Fan Da.
“You’re really gay?”
“Yeah,” Fan Da said, tilting his head. “Why? Didn’t you say you didn’t mind?”
“I don’t, I don’t.” Meng Xin quickly waved his hands.
He was just… curious, since he’d never really interacted with a gay person up close before.
“I actually thought you did mind,” Fan Da added, circling back to their earlier conversation.
“Because a couple days ago, I ran into your roommate — that guy, Bian Ting.”
“Bian Ting?” Meng Xin’s eyes widened. “What did he say to you?”
“He just told me you’re straight or whatever.” Fan Da recalled the odd encounter and couldn’t help but comment, “It was kinda weird, honestly. I mean, I don’t even know him. Well, I know of him, but we’ve never talked. How would he know if I…”
Meng Xin’s mood soured the second he heard the word “straight.”
At this point, hearing that word was almost triggering, all thanks to Bian Ting.
“Did he also say,” Meng Xin forced down his frustration and repeated the words he’d overheard not long ago, “that I’m only good enough to be a friend, not a boyfriend?”
Fan Da thought about it.
While the warning had been a little more aggressive, the general meaning was the same.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Recalling Bian Ting’s expression during their conversation, Fan Da started feeling a little uneasy.
Just to be sure, he double-checked:
“You really don’t mind that I’m gay, right?”
But Meng Xin’s mind was already elsewhere.
He shook his head absentmindedly, completely tuned out of the current topic.
Fan Da relaxed. “Good, good.”
But Meng Xin couldn’t care less if someone was gay or not.
The only thing on his mind was — why the hell was Bian Ting talking trash about him again?!
He’d already let it slide when Bian Ting badmouthed him to Zhang Yiming — that guy was Bian Ting’s friend, after all.
But Fan Da and Bian Ting didn’t even know each other!
Why did Bian Ting go out of his way to trash-talk him to a complete stranger?!
If Bian Ting hated bringing him food so much, fine!
He’d stopped asking him to do it, hadn’t he?!
So what was Bian Ting still upset about?!
And if he really had a problem, couldn’t he just say it to Meng Xin’s face?!
Meng Xin was so mad he lost his appetite.
— He was officially cutting ties with Bian Ting!!!
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