Chapter 14: Angry

Li Ran: “……”

How was he supposed to teach personally?

He looked depressed at the Cullinan kicking up dust as it drove away, then even more depressed as he rode his bike home.

When he went downstairs to feed Hei Ge, he still seemed glum, stumped by Chi Mo.

“Why am I so hopeless…” Li Ran squatted on the ground, hands on his knees, watching the black cat huff and puff as it devoured the egg yolk, lamenting his bitter fate.

The black cat ignored him and kept eating furiously.

For a whole week, it had only seen egg yolks and not this useless human who couldn’t do anything right. The black cat had finally realized that Li Ran was hopeless—like mud that couldn’t stick to a wall. It couldn’t hunt itself, and even when it tossed prey at his feet, he wouldn’t eat it. Beyond saving, it had given up on him.

But today, the black cat brought out its white cat wife. She sat obediently not far away, curiously watching Li Ran. This time, Li Ran got a good look at her face, and while the black cat let out a few low warning growls from its throat upon noticing, it didn’t block her like before.

It was actually allowing Li Ran to look at its wife.

The white cat’s eyes were water-blue, like a lake or ice crystals.

Her fur was clean, her sitting posture proud and elegant.

She was especially cute.

After finishing one egg yolk in front of Li Ran, the black cat carefully picked up the second one, tail raised, and walked over to the white cat. It set down the yolk and nudged it with its paw.

Once the white cat lowered her head to eat daintily, the black cat lowered its own head to groom her fur.

Their relationship was so good.

Li Ran watched with a touch of envy and murmured, “I want a wife too.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Chi Mo’s face flashed through his mind. Startled, Li Ran yelped and jumped up, fleeing in panic.

Chi Mo’s face popping into his head was purely because Li Ran, at 17, hadn’t met many people. Even fewer young people.

Classmates didn’t count.

As Li Ran puzzled over why Chi Mo had inappropriately appeared in his mind—not to mention the wave of discomfort washing over him, hairs standing on end, chills running through his body—Shen Shu’s face followed.

The entire night had passed, and this noon was almost over, yet Li Ran could still vividly recall Shen Shu’s mouth, like a machine gun.

Naggier than Tang Seng.

Terrifying.

On Monday, before heading to school early and stopping by the market, Li Ran grumbled to himself over his daily messaging task.

As he pulled out his phone and stared at Chi Mo’s chat, agonizing, he muttered, “He won’t let me just send ‘good morning.’ ‘Good noon’ and ‘good evening’ too… That should be fine. Three sentences.”

Li Ran: [Mr. Chi.]

Chi Mo: [Mm.]

Li Ran: [Good morning.]

Chi Mo: [Mm. Good morning.]

The chat should have ended there, but Mr. Chi had said that wouldn’t pass. Li Ran’s fingers tapped at the keyboard, he exhaled and inhaled, finally sighed, racked his brains, and sent the truth.

Li Ran: [I’ll say the rest later.]

Chi Mo: [?]

Li Ran: [The day’s so long. Can’t I say the other stuff in the afternoon?]

It was a long sentence—at least for Li Ran. If he’d said it in person, he would’ve paused for ages.

Chi Mo: [Oh.]

That was the downside of texting.

Chi Mo wasn’t one for smiles or chit-chat on a normal day, but you could see his expressions and moods. Li Ran was clueless and couldn’t read them anyway. But a cold “oh” typed out over the icy phone screen felt like arctic air blasting over, instantly hitting Li Ran’s anxiety nerves.

He didn’t know how to say sweet things to coax him…

Thus, on this new Monday, something shocking happened in High School Class 20.

The ultra-punctual, last-second arrival master Li Ran actually entered the classroom 20 minutes early!

He’d started arriving early from two weeks ago—five minutes at most.

“Holy crap… Something’s off. I gotta check the news. No smoke without fire—has the apocalypse finally come? Is Mother Earth about to explode?” Zhang Si said, dumbfounded.

He clasped his hands together upward in a heart-holding gesture, carefully extending them toward his deskmate Zhang Youde’s face. Those in the know realized he was demanding his 50-cent bet winnings; others might think he was begging, too poor for even a broken bowl, reduced to receiving charity in his palms.

Zhang Si kicked Zhang Youde. “Hand over the cash, stinky man! Loser! Pay up, you gambling dog—don’t be a sore loser.”

After cursing, he switched to a friendly smile and turned to Li Ran. “A’Dai, what’s up with you?”

Li Ran pulled a wet wipe from the side pocket of his bag, pretending to be busy as he wiped the desk. “Nothing…”

With less than half a month until the end of sophomore year, was it too late for Li Ran to buckle down now?

He’d entered from the back door with barely a sound, but every classmate already in the room shot him shocked, puzzled looks, making Li Ran wonder if he shouldn’t have come so early.

Qi Zhi always came early, though…

Li Ran had something to ask him.

He kept wiping the desk, gradually expanding the area until he’d cleaned half of Qi Zhi’s side too.

“Hey, you guys—stop staring at my deskmate. You know he’s shy, so quit gawking. Turn around, all of you. I’m warning you, keep staring and I’ll get jealous—one punch per classmate. Don’t blame me for forgetting two years of class brotherhood then.” Qi Zhi snapped out of his shock, grinning brightly. His joke instantly distracted from Li Ran’s oddity.

It was just arriving 20 minutes early. What was the big deal?

Once the classmates stopped paying attention to the back row, Qi Zhi’s smile faded slightly, a hint of worry in his eyes. He reached out, gripped Li Ran’s wrist to stop the wiping, and his fingers accidentally slid down, brushing Li Ran’s.

Lowering his voice, he asked, “A’Ran, did something happen on the way here?”

Free from the stares, Li Ran relaxed like a fish in water, breathing easily again. Instinctively, he pulled his hand back into his pocket and leaned forward slightly, unaware of the touch.

“Nothing happened.” He lowered his voice too, looking guilty like a thief for the first time. “Deskmate, I’ve got something to ask you.”

For two years, in the eyes of everyone who knew or was familiar with Li Ran—teachers and students alike—he’d been a not-too-bright, extremely rigid kid.

Honest to a fault.

His features and personality had grown separately.

He set rules for himself and stuck to them strictly for long stretches. Only emergencies could make him budge.

Like his last-second school arrivals.

He’d executed that inflexible routine flawlessly for two years and prided himself on it.

Until a habitual lane-cutter and red-light runner crashed into him, forcing him to scrape the Cullinan luxury car and nearly saddle him with massive debt. Only then did he realize he needed to leave extra time every day.

None of his classmates knew what had happened—Li Ran kept his mouth shut, never sharing his own business or anyone else’s.

They only knew the five-minute-early arrivals had started wordlessly.

Most importantly, Li Ran had a clear grasp of his own IQ. Whether he just didn’t like studying or whatever, he knew he was dumb and could never catch up to his deskmate. So he muddled through, never going to the teacher or office for help on tough questions—or asking his deskmate.

Classmates joked and called him A’Dai; he’d respond, seeming part of the happy family, but really, he’d always marched to his own beat.

He wasn’t curious about them and never asked for help. Not even for something small like moving a desk or chair.

He handled his own problems.

He lived in bustling human society but chose to be an island.

So when Qi Zhi heard Li Ran say, “I’ve got something to ask you,” he was floored.

When Li Ran stumbled through, trying his best in a few awkward phrases to explain the explosive question—“How do I send more bubbly green messages to someone every day?”—Qi Zhi didn’t know who he was or where he was anymore.

He clenched a fist with one hand, thumb extended, and rapidly tapped his brow, trying to knock the chaos from his brain.

Class hadn’t started yet; the teacher wouldn’t come. Li Ran watched wide-eyed as Qi Zhi suddenly seemed possessed, muttering, “This isn’t real, this isn’t real—what’s real anymore…”

He pressed his back to the wall, fists up in front like a defense—if Qi Zhi went berserk and lunged to bite his neck, he could block in time.

He hadn’t wanted to ask a classmate; it went against Li Ran’s way of life.

But he was at the end of his rope. Where was he supposed to find so many topics to message Mr. Chi?

…Chi Mo was too good at stumping people.

Qi Zhi had dated tons of girlfriends since freshman year. He was loaded with chatting experience.

Finding topics should be a breeze.

Plus, for all his romantic history, no one called him a scumbag. He dated one at a time, no cheating, spent generously, gave breakup fees. No flaws.

Not one ex said he’d been bad to them. They all called him a great boyfriend.

“Li Ran.” Qi Zhi said seriously.

Li Ran blinked. “Hm?”

Qi Zhi opened his eyes and looked up. “You’re dating someone?”

No trace of his usual sunny jokes—his face was grave.

Seeing Li Ran’s defensive posture, Qi Zhi couldn’t help laughing.

How could someone be this adorable.

Last time, Qi Zhi’s unfinished “you’re more suited to men” had made Li Ran blow up in anger. He’d apologized for ages.

Li Ran was big-hearted and forgot unpleasantness quickly, but Qi Zhi was sensitive and avoided edgy jokes to tease him for a while.

He’d only confirmed the earnest look on Li Ran’s face—he really wanted to know how to send more messages—before saying on purpose, “You’re asking me for help?”

Everyone knew Li Ran never asked for favors.

“Yeah, help me out.” Li Ran said it easily. It wasn’t hard at all.

Then he thought and added, to make it complete, “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

Qi Zhi: “……”

Who taught him that?!

If Chi Mo knew he’d not only learned to ask for help but figured out the logic of buying lunch for it, he might praise him.

At noon, Li Ran went to the cafeteria. Normally alone, today he ate with Qi Zhi—because he was treating.

Their high school ranked dead last in the eight-school joint exams, but its cafeteria was the best among all city high schools. It had even made the news.

The principal said: Skimp on anyone but not the students’ and teachers’ stomachs.

Every joint exam, exam rooms were randomly assigned across schools. Students testing here would eat and immediately defect, not wanting to leave.

Meanwhile, at the top floor of Moran Technology.

Chi Mo had just ended a meeting when his phone buzzed twice.

He pulled it out.

Li Ran had sent several photos.

Of high school cafeteria lunch.

Vibrant colors and glossy sheen, meat and veggies perfectly balanced. Even the rice grains were distinct, plump, and glutinous-looking. Half a fair, slender hand steadied the chopsticks on the bowl, accidentally photobombed in.

The aroma of this not-extravagant-but-definitely-delicious lunch seemed to waft through the screen, drawing the viewer’s gaze.

The high school cafeteria was noisy and bustling.

Qi Zhi usually ate lunch with his girlfriend—or a girl he was flirting with if single. He’d invited Li Ran before, saying he’d skip her if Li Ran joined.

But Li Ran preferred going solo.

Today was their first real shared lunch. Qi Zhi shoveled a couple bites, silently watching Li Ran across from him snap photos on his phone.

The angle captured meat, veggies, rice, chopsticks—and maybe the back of half a hand.

Close-ups of the dishes too, of course.

After shooting, Li Ran typed on his phone, head down.

Li Ran: [Picture x5]

Li Ran: [Mr. Chi.]

Li Ran: [I’m eating.]

Li Ran: [Have you gotten off work?]

Li Ran: [Remember to eat.]

Qi Zhi didn’t know what sappy stuff Li Ran was sending—personal privacy, so he didn’t ask. He lifted his bowl and scarfed several bites, forgetting to pick up veggies.

After sending, Li Ran was pleased, set down his phone to enjoy the food—but it vibrated wildly.

Chi Mo was calling.

Li Ran was mildly shocked.

Even sending about lunch at noon was no good?

The cafeteria was too chaotic; he might not hear the phone. Li Ran asked Qi Zhi to watch his food so the cleaning auntie wouldn’t mistake it for abandoned and toss it.

The auntie would scold them for wasting food.

Li Ran never wasted food.

He walked out to the corridor to answer the call.

“…Mr. Chi?”

Chi Mo’s tone was indifferent. “So good at this at noon today? Who gave you the tip?”

“Huh?”

“Who did you ask for help?”

“…My deskmate.”

“Qi Zhi?” Chi Mo sneered.

Downstairs, classmates were still rushing toward the cafeteria. This had to be one of those studious types who stayed in the classroom doing homework. Upon hearing this, Li Ran immediately pulled back his gaze from observing the others and felt surprised.

“How did you know?”

Chi Mo didn’t answer. Instead, he said, “Li Ran, you really know how to play this.”

“If there’s something you don’t know, why not come ask me? This is between you and me.” Chi Mo’s voice turned cold and hard. “Do you think I’m dead or something? Come find me after school.”