On the way back to the academic building, He Qinglan seemed a bit embarrassed. “Little Yuan, I get the feeling Ji He likes you.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan didn’t take it seriously. “Maybe. I saved his life once before, so he probably looks up to me a little.”
He Qinglan nodded. “Oh, I see.”
As they passed a couple, the girl suddenly got worked up and shoved the guy. “I told you she likes you! Why did you still go off alone with her?”
The guy was clearly a sleaze. “I keep telling you you’re overthinking it. She’s just a bro. If I wanted to be with her, you wouldn’t even be in the picture.”
The girl slapped him hard across the face. “We’re done! Go be with your ‘bro’!”
Zhou Zhuoyuan: “…”
He Qinglan smiled reassuringly. “It’s fine. Even if you went out alone with him, I’d trust you.”
Zhou Zhuoyuan looked up into He Qinglan’s pure, innocent eyes. He had such an understanding boyfriend—he couldn’t afford to let him down.
After a moment’s thought, he said, “I swear, I won’t go anywhere alone with Ji He.”
There weren’t many guys in the world who could make their partner feel so secure, but Zhou Zhuoyuan was one of them.
~~~
Guan Qi was the last one in the dorm to find out his two roommates were together. That afternoon, when he got back and tried to push the door open, it wouldn’t budge.
The door swung open, and He Qinglan greeted him with a warm smile, ushering him inside with unusual enthusiasm.
Guan Qi glanced at Zhou Zhuoyuan, who had just settled back into his seat. His lips were a little swollen, and his eyes and cheeks were flushed red.
Guan Qi liked guys too, so he instantly guessed what these two had been up to.
No way? Was the whole dorm full of gay guys?
Pei He happened to walk in right then. He took one look at Guan Qi standing dumbfounded in the doorway, then at the guilty-looking He Qinglan and Zhou Zhuoyuan pretending to bury himself in his textbook.
Pei He stroked his chin and drawled sarcastically, “He~ is~ one~ hun~dred~ per~cent~ straight~.”
Guan Qi: “…”
“Everyone knew but me? Zhuoyuan, you didn’t tell just me?” He was having a hard time processing it.
Seeing that Zhou Zhuoyuan had no intention of responding, He Qinglan cleared his throat twice. “He’s pretty low-key about it.”
The low-key Zhou Zhuoyuan had actually already told He Tiaosheng and Sun Yuqing with a conspiratorial, “I’m gonna let you in on a secret, but don’t tell anyone.”
Guan Qi studied Zhou Zhuoyuan’s expression and swallowed all his accusations. He knew him well enough to recognize that Zhou Zhuoyuan was getting irritated.
Regular roommates didn’t have the right to grill him about keeping secrets.
~~~
Zhou Zhuoyi was Ji He’s best friend. Growing up, Ji He had always told him everything, no matter what happened. But this time, after such a massive blow, Ji He had kept it all bottled up without breathing a word.
Maybe he was afraid Zhou Zhuoyi would say something like, “I told you to give up, but you wouldn’t listen.” Kind-hearted as he was, Zhou Zhuoyi probably wouldn’t rub it in like that.
Only Zhou Zhuoyuan had an endless supply of cutting words, like he could never run out.
And yet, Ji He was hopelessly hooked.
He liked it that much.
After breaking his arm, the Ji Family had relented to his begging and let him go to school despite the injury—but he had to come straight home before evening study hall. Meanwhile, Zhou Zhuoyuan had grown accustomed to spending his evenings with He Qinglan instead.
All at once, everything seemed to be conspiring against him.
Back home, he flopped onto his bed and pulled out the photo he’d secretly snapped of Zhou Zhuoyuan last time.
The pricey camera had captured his expression perfectly: pure annoyance at being photographed.
Ji He stroked the photo. That irritation felt so alive—the way his brows furrowed just a touch, like he was about to snap at any second.
Zhou Zhuoyuan had a foul temper. Ji He loved needling him until he blew up, then coaxing him back down. He loved watching Zhou Zhuoyuan’s emotions flare because of him.
Lost in the memory, Ji He smiled softly. But suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.
The annoyance on Zhou Zhuoyuan’s face in the photo wasn’t the same as the anger he’d shown when he hit him.
Ji He set the photo aside and pulled out his phone to call Zhou Zhuoyi. “Little Yi, do you remember your brother’s first birthday banquet after he came back to your house?”
There was a pause on the other end, then: “Yeah, I do. What’s up?”
Ji He’s voice trembled. “That day, after he went back home… did he act any differently? Was he really upset?”
Another stretch of silence.
“I think,” Zhou Zhuoyi said slowly, “he probably was upset.”
“That day after he got home, Bro didn’t show much. He ate normally, studied, slept like usual. Dad didn’t hit him hard—it was mostly for show, for all the uncles and aunts. No marks were left.”
“Bro and Dad sulked at each other for a few days. He didn’t talk to Dad, but then Dad gave him some money, and the cold war ended.”
“Later on, no matter what events we took my brother to, he refused to eat or mingle at the banquets. So Mom and Dad gradually stopped bringing him along.”
“So I figured he must have been upset.”
“But my brother’s too proud to ever let it show.”
