The first night of the new semester—whether it was the lingering disgust from Shen Zeyu or simply being back on campus again—Qi Xu, who normally slept through the night like a log, actually had a dream for once.
For him, Q University had been four years of quiet stress, so the dreams weren’t exactly pleasant.
In the dream, it was near graduation. Fourth-year students didn’t spend much time on campus anymore. Qi Xu had just returned from a job interview and pushed open the dorm door—only to find three people inside who didn’t belong there.
None of them looked up. They acted like he was invisible, chatting among themselves.
Xu Yichen was sitting on his bed, grinning as he talked.
“Graduation’s coming up. What are your plans?”
Shen Zeyu was climbing up his ladder like he owned the place, sneaking shy glances at the person on the next bed.
“I’ve decided to go abroad with Ah Huai. I really don’t want to work at Shen Corp right after graduation—it sounds so boring.”
On the neighboring bunk, Xie Huai turned to look at the door but said nothing.
Qi Xu locked eyes with the dream-version of Xie Huai.
Neither of them saw anything in the other’s gaze.
As if real, as if illusion.
Qi Xu wanted to speak—wanted to shout at them for sitting on his bed—but found himself unable to make a sound.
Then, Xie Huai silently got up from his own bed and walked over to Qi Xu’s. He even picked up Qi Xu’s pillow and hugged it.
The next second—boom!
His bed collapsed.
Qi Xu felt himself falling with it, weightless and anchorless, plummeting straight down. When he finally hit something solid, his legs jolted—
—and he woke up.
Groggy and disoriented, he opened his eyes. The frame above his bed looked exactly like the one in the dream, blurring the line between reality and nightmare.
His chest rose and fell. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment before slowly sitting up, glancing at the bed beside him—and blurted out:
“You’re still here?”
Xie Huai was sitting on his bed with a laptop balanced on his knees. At the question, he paused and looked over, confused.
“Where else would I be?”
Qi Xu hadn’t caught what he said clearly. He reached up and removed one of his earplugs, then looked at him again.
Xie Huai didn’t repeat himself. Instead, he asked,
“Had a bad dream?”
Qi Xu touched the mattress beneath him, confirming it hadn’t collapsed. Still dazed, he muttered,
“Yeah… dreamt the bed broke.”
A moment passed. Then the voice from the next bed chuckled softly.
“The first thing you ask when you wake up is why I’m still here… Did I break your bed in the dream?”
Qi Xu stared at him wordlessly. The silence spoke volumes—it was obvious he wasn’t denying it.
Xie Huai asked again, “What did I do in the dream?”
Qi Xu didn’t answer. What was he supposed to say? You climbed over the bunk frame, got into my bed, hugged my pillow, and then the whole bed collapsed?
But Xie Huai wasn’t letting it go, patiently waiting for a response, clearly wanting an actual answer.
Qi Xu looked visibly annoyed.
“It wasn’t just you in the dream. It was like a damn rave on my bed—people, ghosts, you name it.”
It even made him wonder if, after he died, these people would throw a dance party on his grave too.
Xie Huai raised his eyebrows but didn’t push further. Better to leave some dignity for someone whose dream bed had just collapsed.
The dorm door creaked open slowly. Li Yan tiptoed in, holding two boxed meals. He looked up and let out a breath of relief when he saw Qi Xu awake.
“Qi Xu, thank god you’re finally up. You scared the crap out of me.”
Qi Xu was about to climb down when he paused at that.
“Did I talk in my sleep?”
“No, you were completely still. Didn’t even turn over once.” Li Yan recalled how Qi Xu hadn’t moved all morning—it freaked him and Feng Zhenjie out so badly they broke into a cold sweat.
“It’s already noon and you still weren’t up. Luckily, Xie Huai told us you sleep like this. We were so worried, we even had him check if you were still breathing.”
He chuckled awkwardly at the memory.
Just then, Feng Zhenjie came in carrying a new water dispenser. The moment he saw Qi Xu, he grinned.
“Our sleeping beauty’s finally awake.”
Qi Xu: “…”
Without a word, he got out of bed and headed to the balcony to wash up.
Li Yan set one of the lunch boxes on Qi Xu’s desk.
“Xie Huai said you like sweet and sour flavors, so I got you sweet-and-sour pork and cola chicken wings. The veggie’s shredded potato.”
Qi Xu, mid-brush, turned and looked toward the dorm room. Li Yan and Feng Zhenjie were chatting about something funny they saw in the cafeteria. Xie Huai had come down from his bed and was mostly listening, occasionally chiming in. Laughter trickled out—a perfectly ordinary dorm scene.
Qi Xu finished washing up, came back in, and sat down to open the meal.
“How much was the food? I’ll transfer it to you.”
Li Yan pulled out his phone and tapped a few times.
“Hang on, let me check how much it was on my student card… 15 yuan.”
Qi Xu transferred the money to Li Yan’s WeChat before starting to eat. Nearby, someone was typing steadily on a laptop. Qi Xu paused mid-bite and glanced over.
Xie Huai was still typing, and without even looking up, said,
“I already ate.”
Qi Xu frowned slightly.
“Did I ask?”
“You didn’t?” Xie Huai continued typing casually. “I just figured you were about to. I just got back from the old house. Grandpa Shen messaged you but you didn’t reply. He thinks your oversleeping still hasn’t improved, so he said he’s starting you on herbal soups again tomorrow.”
Qi Xu muttered a low curse, yanked out his charging cable, and quickly called the old man back.
Watching him rush to the balcony, phone in hand and visibly flustered, Li Yan turned to Xie Huai.
“Qi Xu’s sleeping issue—is it a health thing?”
“Premature birth. He’s still recovering physically,” Xie Huai replied.
Feng Zhenjie stuffed his mouth with food.
“Ah, that explains it. I thought he just looked a bit thin. He should really eat more and bulk up a bit. Honestly, I wish I could give him ten pounds of my weight.”
Li Yan rolled his eyes.
“Please don’t. What you’ve got is fat. Qi Xu’s lean muscle. You didn’t notice last night? I saw his abs—those rare flat-cut ones. Even I was jealous.”
Xie Huai stopped typing and lifted his hand from the keyboard.
“Last night?”
Li Yan got excited again.
“Oh right! Qi Xu probably forgot he’s not living at home anymore. Went to shower without a shirt, and came out just with a towel over his shoulders. We got quite the view.”
Qi Xu finally convinced Grandpa Shen to cut it down to just soup on weekends. When he came back inside, he unscrewed a bottle of water and chugged half of it.
Xie Huai had already closed his laptop.
“So, did you win that argument with your grandpa?”
Qi Xu shot him a look.
“Not really. I just agreed to go home for dinner on weekends.”
Li Yan finished every grain of rice in his box.
“Then you might not get to go back for a while. Military training starts tomorrow, and this afternoon we have to pick up our uniforms and go to the class meeting.”
Qi Xu held his forehead and suddenly recalled the dreaded days of military training. Worse than 8 a.m. classes was morning drills at 6:30.
Xie Huai saw his expression and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Think you can get up that early?”
Qi Xu was fully self-aware and admitted defeat immediately.
“Nope.”
Li Yan added nervously,
“I heard military training at Q University is really strict. If you’re late, you get punished. Do it too many times and you have to give a public apology on stage.”
Qi Xu gave up entirely.
“I’ll just go get a death certificate. Let’s say I died.”
Xie Huai threw in a sharp jab,
“Death certificates require the person to be present now? Sounds like the start of a ghost story.”
Li Yan and Feng Zhenjie burst into laughter, calling out how perfectly in sync the two were—clearly childhood friends.
Qi Xu, however, thought that’s the real ghost story. How could they tell they grew up together? They’d only known each other for barely two months.
He thought Xie Huai would clarify things, but instead he said,
“I’ll wake you up tomorrow.”
That sidetrack left Qi Xu unable to go back and correct them.
“No need,” he said. “I’ll just set an alarm.”
At 2 p.m., the guys from Dorm 314 and the one next door all headed out to the teaching building for a meeting.
“Where’s Teaching Building No. 3?”
“Hang on, I have a map—let me check.”
“This campus is huge. We should probably think about buying bikes.”
“Damn, I left the map upstairs. I’ll go get it.”
“We’re already all the way down—don’t bother. We’ll just ask someone on the way.”
While everyone else was busy debating where to go, Qi Xu silently turned left and kept walking without missing a beat.
Li Yan called after him,
“Qi Xu, do you know where Teaching Building No. 3 is?”
“Yup,” Qi Xu replied, drawing out the word lazily. “I know.”
Xie Huai followed at his usual relaxed pace.
Li Yan turned to the others,
“My roommate knows. Just follow him.”
Yesterday, Li Yan had added everyone from the class group chat, and by now he was pretty friendly with most of their classmates.
Someone whispered to him,
“Your dorm’s two legends look super aloof. They don’t really talk to anyone. Do you know what their college entrance exam scores were?”
Li Yan’s eyes widened as he looked at the tall figures walking ahead.
“Legends? What legends?”
“You seriously don’t know? You live with them and they didn’t tell you? Qi Xu and Xie Huai’s scores were so high they were redacted. I had to dig around like crazy to find that out. I bet they secretly stay up late every night studying and already started reading next semester’s textbooks.”
Feng Zhenjie, picking up on something off, said,
“Not really. One of them didn’t even come back last night, and the other was out cold before ten. Must be natural talent—regular people can’t compare.”
Everyone else was stunned silent.
Feng Zhenjie didn’t say more and tugged Li Yan to catch up with Qi Xu.
Li Yan looked confused.
“What’s going on?”
Feng Zhenjie lowered his voice,
“From now on, don’t go around talking about Xie Huai and Qi Xu to other people.”
Li Yan lowered his voice too.
“Why? You know they’re geniuses too?”
Feng Zhenjie replied,
“No, but I do know a few people in our class had their college entrance exam scores hidden—one of them is that Gao Wenjun guy. Think about why he was so eager to ask you about their scores.”
Li Yan sucked in a breath, his mind spinning through every worst-case scenario, only to get smacked lightly on the head by Feng Zhenjie.
“Don’t go overthinking it. Just be cautious. We’ve got two straight-up genius heartthrobs in our dorm—looks and brains combined. I bet the school forum will be buzzing with their names in a few days.”
Li Yan said,
“No need to wait. Someone already posted about them on the first day. But they’ve barely shown up in public, so most people don’t know anything about them yet.”
They arrived at the classroom and began entering through the front door.
As expected, Xie Huai and Qi Xu’s striking looks drew plenty of attention. A few students even kept their heads down, busy replying to posts in the school forum.
No opening class meeting would be complete without the dreaded self-introduction round.
Some social butterflies took the stage and talked non-stop—like Li Yan, who once again invited everyone to visit his hometown.
Others barely spoke—not because they were shy, but just because they couldn’t be bothered.
Qi Xu stepped up to the front, eyes barely lifted.
“My name’s Qi Xu.”
Everyone waited for him to say more, but he simply turned to walk off stage.
The counselor quickly stopped him.
“How about saying a bit more? Help the class get to know you better.”
Qi Xu finally raised his eyes. Two seconds passed before he added,
“Male. Interests… money.”
Applause erupted. Who doesn’t love money?
That one extra sentence gave everyone a clearer impression of Qi Xu—because honestly, that hobby hits close to home for most people.
The counselor called for quiet and moved on.
“Next, Xie Huai.”
Qi Xu stepped down as Xie Huai walked up. The two passed each other—one in black, one in white—a visual contrast that drew even more stares.
After the introductions, it was time to choose a temporary class monitor to coordinate upcoming military training duties.
Anyone interested was invited to volunteer—and up went Gao Wenjun.
While boasting onstage about his experience as class monitor in high school and listing his honors, his eyes kept drifting toward the two whispering guys seated together.
Qi Xu leaned toward Xie Huai and, for reasons even he wasn’t sure of, asked,
“Didn’t you used to be class monitor too? Why didn’t you go up?”
Xie Huai smiled,
“Oh? How’d you know I was class monitor in high school?”
Same vibe as when he’d said, “How’d you know my exam score was redacted?”
Qi Xu didn’t answer. He just started fiddling with his prayer beads.
Xie Huai continued,
“Being class monitor’s too much work. I don’t have the energy to deal with that many details.”
Qi Xu thought back to earlier that morning—Xie Huai glued to his laptop. At their age, it was probably time to start getting involved in the family business.
Then Xie Huai added,
“Waking you up is hard enough. Being monitor means waking everyone up. I’m not built for that.”
Qi Xu: “…”
His lips parted slightly.
“Get lost.”
In the end, the counselor announced that Gao Wenjun would serve as the temporary class monitor and asked him to create a class group chat.
Once in the group, everyone had to update their display name. Right after Qi Xu finished setting his, his contacts lit up with red dots—friend requests from classmates. He just went ahead and accepted them all.
After the meeting, they went to pick up their military training uniforms and handle a bunch of miscellaneous tasks. By the time they got back to the dorm, it was nearly 9 p.m.
Everyone in Room 314 showered and climbed into bed.
Lying on his side, Li Yan looked across at Qi Xu and asked,
“Qi Xu, how come you remembered to bring a shirt today? I was hoping to admire your abs again.”
Qi Xu: “…”
How was this guy the same as Jiang Zimu?
Truth was, he had forgotten his shirt again today—until Xie Huai reminded him and even handed him the T-shirt he’d left on the edge of the bed.
“You think I’m what, a free show? Keep staring and I’ll have to start charging.”
That cracked up the guys across from him, and soon the room was filled with joking and banter that somehow veered right back into more serious territory.
Feng Zhenjie asked again,
“Qi Xu, are you really gonna be able to wake up tomorrow?”
Qi Xu, not too confident:
“We’ll see. Worst case, I get punished with a few laps.”
The guy on the next bed over, however, sounded completely sure of himself.
“You won’t be late.”
His voice was close. Really close. Like a whisper right beside the ear.
The two beds were pushed together head to head. Out of mutual respect, they slept facing opposite directions, but only a few rungs of the metal bedframe separated them.
Any closer, and they’d be sleeping forehead to forehead.
Qi Xu rolled over and yawned deeply, sleep heavy in his voice.
“Just don’t try waking me up at five. I turn into a wild animal when I’m not fully conscious.”
There was the soft rustle of blankets, then:
“I won’t. Go to sleep.”
The night before military training, no one seemed to sleep well—some were anxious, some excited. Dim lights glowed at the head of the beds.
Xie Huai had just set his phone down when he heard steady, quiet breathing beside him—soft as a cat’s, barely audible.
At 6:10 a.m., the alarm from the opposite bed went off. Li Yan and Feng Zhenjie both reached out of their blankets at the same time to shut it off, then sat up groggily.
They were supposed to meet on the training field at 6:30. Half an hour to get up, wash up, and walk there—barely enough time. Morning exercises would be followed by breakfast.
Xie Huai stirred too, but Qi Xu was still flat on his back, completely unmoving, as if he hadn’t even heard the alarm.
Li Yan climbed down and rubbed his eyes.
“Didn’t Qi Xu set his alarm last night? Why didn’t it go off?”
Xie Huai replied,
“Starts at 6:20. One alarm per minute until 6:25. He’s fighting for every extra second of sleep.”
Li Yan: “…”
“So he’s trying to be the Five-Minute Warrior? Even if he runs full speed from the dorm to the field, it’ll take longer than that!”
Xie Huai looked down at his phone, scrolling for something.
“You guys go ahead and wash up.”
Standing on the balcony with his toothbrush in his mouth, Li Yan watched as Xie Huai placed his phone right next to Qi Xu’s ear. Half a second later, a deep, dramatic voice echoed from the speaker—
“Young Master, it’s time for your herbal tonic.”
The next second, Qi Xu suddenly sprang up from his bed like he had springs attached to his body, still shaken, with that nightmare voice still ringing in his ears.
He spun his head sharply toward the culprit, dark brows furrowed, a cold smile on his lips as he snapped,
“Xie Huai, are you freaking crazy or what?!”
Mission “wake him up” accomplished perfectly. Xie Huai didn’t get angry at the scolding; he calmly turned off the recording.
“I had someone specially go to your house yesterday to have Uncle Li record it. Seems like it worked well today.”
Li Yan laughed.
“You two really are neighbors. You know each other too well. So, why exactly is Qi Xu afraid of that phrase?”
Xie Huai got out of bed.
“You can ask him later. Right now, I bet he’s still steamed.”
Qi Xu’s face darkened even more. Combined with his morning grumpiness, he looked like he wanted to blow up the entire planet. Without a word, he climbed down from the bed and went to the balcony to wash up.
No one dared to bother him.
A little while later, there was a knock on the dorm door. Feng Zhenjie, already dressed, opened it.
Standing in the doorway was Gao Wenjun, peering inside.
“Are you all up? Today’s the first assembly. Not a single person in our class can be late.”
Qi Xu stood near his bed, just about to pull off his T-shirt and put on his military training uniform. The shirt flipped up a bit, exposing a lean, toned waistline, his loose pajama pants hanging low on his hips.
Suddenly, a hand gripped his wrist, stopping him from continuing.
Qi Xu silently lowered his gaze to the hand holding his wrist. His morning grumpiness hit a new peak—he was about to explode—but then he heard Xie Huai say,
“Go change in the bathroom.”
“Annoying,” Qi Xu said in a low voice.
Xie Huai naturally loosened his grip.
“The door’s open. Or do you want someone to see you naked? Didn’t you say you charge for that?”
Qi Xu looked up and saw Gao Wenjun standing outside the door. He wasn’t into giving people a free show, so he grabbed his uniform and turned into the bathroom.
Feng Zhenjie told Gao Wenjun,
“They’re all up. Guaranteed to be on the field on time.”
Gao Wenjun smiled and withdrew his gaze.
“Good. I’ll go wake the others.”
When the whole group from Room 314 finished changing and headed out, Qi Xu’s phone alarm went off at exactly 6:20—a perfect ten minutes left to comfortably walk from the dorm to the field.
The drill instructor hadn’t arrived yet, but the counselor was there, having the students line up by height—tallest to shortest—in two separate rows for boys and girls.
Li Yan, at 5’8”, was average height back home but considered short in this class full of tall northern kids.
Qi Xu slowly made his way toward the back of the line, only to be stopped by a hand pressing against his back.
“Where do you think you’re lining up?”
Qi Xu sized up Xie Huai, ignoring the cap shading his head, and asked,
“How tall are you?”
Xie Huai took off his hat.
“1.85 meters (about 6’1”) on the college entrance physical exam. Don’t know if I grew over the summer.”
Qi Xu’s gaze was like an X-ray, silently judging.
“Didn’t grow. I’m taller than you. You go to the front.”
Looking like that, Qi Xu really was just a little taller than Xie Huai.
Xie Huai looked down at where Qi Xu was standing.
“You better stay right there for the rest of your life and not move. Go ask the instructor to make you do only stationary drills for the whole military training period. Otherwise, you’re still shorter than me.”
The classmates around them covered their mouths, laughing quietly at the exchange.
Qi Xu: “…”
His hands itched a bit—he wanted to throw a punch.
Feng Zhenjie stepped in to keep the peace between the two rivals, making them stand apart, one in each row, so there was no more height comparison.
Gao Wenjun walked over holding a plastic box.
“During military training, you can’t wear any accessories. Take them off now and put them in this box. We’ll return them after dismissal.”
A girl asked,
“Are earrings not allowed either?”
Gao Wenjun said,
“Nope.”
The girls hurriedly took off their earrings, necklaces, bracelets. Some of the boys started taking off their watches.
Qi Xu took off his wrist beads, fiddled with them a few times, then pocketed them. He couldn’t be without them and wasn’t used to others touching his personal items.
Gao Wenjun strode straight over to Qi Xu.
“Put your wrist beads in here too.”
Qi Xu slipped one hand into his pocket.
“If the rules say I can’t wear them, I’ll take them off, but it doesn’t say I have to put them in the box.”
“You really should put them all in here for safekeeping. It’d be a hassle if they get lost,” Gao Wenjun said, lifting the plastic box slightly as a way to pressure Qi Xu.
A hand holding a watch reached over, pressing the box lower in front of Qi Xu.
“There are people behind you waiting to hand stuff in.”
Qi Xu saw a Cartier watch tossed carelessly into the plastic box.
Gao Wenjun glanced at Xie Huai but said nothing, then walked to the back of the line to continue collecting from others.
Qi Xu didn’t dwell on this little incident because what happened next stuck with him for a long time.
When their instructor arrived, he adjusted their self-arranged formation, placing Xie Huai behind Qi Xu.
Qi Xu glanced sideways stubbornly but didn’t look up.
Was Xie Huai taller than him in their previous life?
Qi Xu thought it over but couldn’t recall. Back then, all his focus was on his career. Xie Huai was just a Shen family partner and one of those people he didn’t want to negotiate with.
On the first day without drills, all the classes dispersed after lineup adjustments, and after breakfast, everyone gathered at the auditorium at 8 a.m. for the military training mobilization meeting.
The cafeteria was packed, everyone wearing camo uniforms. The upperclassmen who accidentally wandered in felt dizzy for a moment.
Two people at the door stood out like cranes among chickens. Behind them were several taller guys, but the front two had an irresistible aura.
Maybe that was what made their presence so different.
One was born a prodigy, receiving top-tier education; the other had the mind of a 28-year-old, with experience as a leader. Even with a look of impatience, they were different from the ordinary freshmen around them.
Qi Xu saw so many people instinctively step back in the cafeteria. Xie Huai noticed and asked,
“Where are you going?”
“I’m feeling dizzy. I’ll head back to the dorm first.” Qi Xu had just started when he was interrupted.
The male classmates behind him all spoke up,
“Don’t faint! Qi Xu, go find a few empty seats. We’ll help you buy breakfast.”
“It’s rare we’re all here eating together. Let’s go.”
“Qi Xu, what do you want to eat?”
Those useless group meals from high school had followed them into college—everything had to be done together. In just over a month, this strange sense of collective honor would probably fade away.
Qi Xu ended up with the important task of saving seats. He handed his student ID card to Xie Huai.
“You watch and buy the food.”
Xie Huai took the card. The photo on the student ID was the same as the one on his college entrance exam admission ticket, except this one was in color.
Rarely, the photo showed Qi Xu actually looking like he was smiling. It wasn’t exactly a smile, more like the corners of his mouth were just slightly turned up, his eyes soft and lacking the usual sharpness.
His black hair was neatly combed, making him look like a good kid—just like the first time Xie Huai saw him at the internet cafe. Back then, he really looked like a wide-eyed cat.
At that time, Qi Xu didn’t know he had been switched at birth with Shen Zeyu, and that the life in Qi’s family village was not truly his own.
At least back then, Qi Xu didn’t accept the status quo. He wasn’t crushed by Qi Guohui’s oppression; he still held hope for the future. Qi’s family village couldn’t trap him.
Now, he was like a wolf who hadn’t fully woken but stayed alert.
If anyone crossed his line or provoked him, they would be paid back tenfold—an eye for an eye, no mercy, viciously tearing off a layer of skin.
Most of the time, though, he curled up and slept in his own territory, occasionally licking his fur.
Xie Huai mostly saw Qi Xu in this state, which made him want, at one moment, to reach out and touch the wolf’s fur.
“I don’t look as good as in the photo,” Qi Xu said dryly, letting out a “ha” — this guy never said anything nice.
“You’re not much better-looking either.”
“…”
The others were even more speechless. “You two better just shut up. You can’t hurt each other, but you’re hurting us.”
Li Yan leaned in and offered a different opinion: “I think you look just like your photo, maybe even better in person. The photo didn’t quite capture your vibe.”
Qi Xu relaxed and said to Li Yan, “I’ll buy you a drink later.”
The group suddenly surged forward, showering Qi Xu with compliments—some even threw out flowery phrases like “as beautiful as a goddess” or “stunningly lovely.”
Qi Xu wondered how their language scores had gotten them into this school.
He waved his hand and bought drinks for everyone—except Xie Huai.
“Thanks, Xu-ge.”
“Xu-ge, you’re generous.”
In less than half a day, the guys’ way of addressing Qi Xu changed from “Qi Xu” to “Xu-ge” (Brother Xu).
Qi Xu took over two rows of chairs by the window with a dozen bottles of drinks.
When everyone came back after buying breakfast and saw all the drinks on the table, they were even more excited. They had thought Qi Xu was joking; after all, they all often said stuff like “I’ll treat you sometime.”
One seat had no drinks on the table. Xie Huai quietly sat there and put the breakfast he bought in front of Qi Xu.
“There’s no sweet and sour flavor in breakfast, so I got you a bottle of milk,” Xie Huai said. “Try hard—maybe you’ll grow taller than me.”
Qi Xu grabbed the milk, shoved the straw into it hard as if jabbing Xie Huai: “Don’t say that so soon. If I end up taller than you, you have to call me ‘brother.’”
Xie Huai readily agreed: “Deal.”
Qi Xu took a sip of the milk and realized belatedly, damn—it’s kids who care about height. Why was he acting like an eighteen-year-old brat?
After breakfast, they went back to the dorm to tidy up. A drill instructor was coming for an inspection later.
Just as they left the cafeteria, someone called out, “Xie Huai!”
Xie Huai turned around and a bottle of juice was thrown to him, which he caught steadily.
Qi Xu didn’t say anything, walked ahead of Xie Huai without looking back, like a proud cat.
Xie Huai looked down at the mango juice in his hand and shook his head helplessly.
“Xu-ge’s cold on the outside but warm inside—he still cares about you,” Li Yan said, somewhat envious of their friendship. “He knows you like juice.”
Feng Zhenjie teased, “Hey, we’re all iced black tea, but you’re the only mango juice. Xu-ge’s got a special spot just for you.”
Xie Huai didn’t open the juice and looked a bit resigned: “I’m allergic to mango.”
Li Yan and Feng Zhenjie were speechless.
That was a gift from the “heavenly poison.”
