“Poor Little Thing” didn’t get a reply.
After the message was sent, it remained unread all the way until Ming Ying returned to his apartment.
Ming Ying pocketed his phone and took out his keys to unlock the door. He felt inexplicably exhausted from this outing, as if he was dead on his feet.
Entering the apartment, Mark poked his head out of his room at the sound. “Ming, are you okay?”
Ming Ying threw his bag aside and collapsed onto the sofa in two huge strides. Limbs splayed out, he looked like he was on the verge of death.
“I’m fine. Just took an exam, that’s all.”
Hearing this, Mark walked out, asking curiously, “Was it Thomas? So, what score did you get?”
Ming Ying opened his eyes, then raised his right hand and formed a fist at Mark.
“0.”
Mark couldn’t believe it. “Oh, God! And I was counting on you to help me with my calculus course!”
These foreigners had stereotypes about Chinese students’ math abilities. Ming Ying was amused and laughed, then asked, “Mark, do you know if there’s a professor named Silas in our college?”
“Silas?” Mark frowned. “What is that? A last name?”
“I don’t know. Probably.” Ming Ying sat up, scratching his head, changing the stress of the syllable. “Or maybe it’s Silis? Something like that. Do you know him?”
Mark suddenly let out another “Oh!” “Are you talking about Professor Silas from the Law School? He was a student at N University himself and later stayed on as a professor. Why?”
The Law School?
“No way…”
How could someone so knowledgeable about architectural design and materials be from the Law School?
But then… maybe a double major?
Damn. That would be terrifying.
To earn two such prestigious degrees from N University and stay on as faculty, he’d have to be at least a postdoctoral fellow at minimum.
But that foreigner didn’t look… that old.
Or had he just aged well?
Ming Ying clicked his tongue on the sofa for a moment. “It’s nothing, bro is just tired. Tired.”
Though his mouth said he was tired, he suddenly sprang up with a “whoosh,” bid goodnight to a dumbfounded Mark, and retreated to his room.
Ming Ying didn’t rush to wash up and sleep. Instead, he opened his computer and searched the university website for the AMSL (Advanced Materials and Structures) Laboratory the professor had mentioned.
Sure enough, upon opening the webpage, a list of papers and patent introductions nearly blinded him.
Ming Ying began browsing with great interest.
He got so absorbed in his research that he lost track of time. It wasn’t until his 11 o’clock alarm reminded him to sleep that Ming Ying stretched and got up.
He shut down his computer, grabbed his phone, and while turning off the alarm, saw XI’s reply.
On the screen were just three characters and a question mark.
XI: Hard to please?
Ming Ying’s eyes widened. He scrolled up; it was in response to his complaints about his advisor and plea for comfort.
But what did replying with those three characters mean?
Was she asking how his advisor was hard to please?
This… only saying half a sentence, forcing people to automatically imagine a questioning tone… it felt so familiar…
Ming Ying inexplicably thought back to high school. When his grade was putting up a blackboard newspaper, he drew a picture of his homeroom teacher (which looked a bit ugly). He was then dragged over by the teacher and asked repeatedly: “Is this me? Is this me?”
Ming Ying burst out laughing with a “pfft.”
It was really strange. It seemed like anything XI said could make him laugh.
So, Student Ming Ying fell back into his cosplay.
Mingo: Mm-hmm.
Mingo: [Puppy nodding.jpg]
Mingo: [Teacher XI, I wish you were my advisor.]
Two blue checkmarks lit up; the other side had read it.
Ming Ying rested his chin in his hand, waiting for a reply.
But for some reason, the other person didn’t reply for a long time.
Ming Ying tactically drank two glasses of water. Just as he was starting to think about making excuses to save face, the other side suddenly replied!
XI: I could. But currently, I only accept obedient students.
“Pffthahaha—”
Ming Ying laughed so hard he almost slid off his chair.
Mingo: What a coincidence, Teacher. I am super obedient. [Star eyes.jpg]
XI: Mn.
Ming Ying pressed his advantage.
Mingo: So, Teacher, do I get a little red flower for being obedient? What do I have to do to earn your little red flower?
Mingo: [Shy]
Half a minute passed.
XI: Depends on your performance.
Ming Ying laughed and flopped onto his bed. Spouting a string of nonsense and having the other person play along made his heart feel warm.
Mingo: XI, are you comforting me?
XI: Happy now?
“Oh man, I can’t, hahahaha…” Ming Ying wanted to roll around in glee the moment he saw that tone of voice.
On the other side, Silas set down his teacup. Looking at the chat on the screen, he gently curled his lip.
Actually, he had made a small mistake tonight.
That mistake was definitely not his criticism of Ming Ying’s answer. When it came to professional academic issues, Silas was always serious, no matter when or where; this was the very foundation of N University.
But, Silas recalled the young man’s somewhat awkward and hasty expression, and he began to rub the teacup in his hand.
However, Student Ming Ying had already completely tossed that “awkward and hasty” moment to the back of his mind. He was currently lying in bed, clutching his phone, reluctantly saying goodnight to XI. Probably because he got so excited before bed, he couldn’t fall asleep for a long time.
He scrolled through his chat history with XI. Scrolling and scrolling, a thought suddenly popped into his head again: What was their relationship right now?
It certainly couldn’t be considered online dating, and “online friends” felt too distant.
Actually, logically speaking, if they weren’t online friends, what were they? But Student Ming Ying had his own internal monologue: Although the other person’s appearance was already a bit fuzzy in his mind, they weren’t the kind of so-called online friends who had never met each other!
Fine.
Ming Ying thought he should define their relationship clearly, so it would be easier to progress step by step, right?
He took a few screenshots of their chat history. Just as he was about to consult his Childhood Friends Group, his movement suddenly stopped.
Forget it.
Although his chat with XI wasn’t particularly scandalous, knowing the mischievous nature of his “sons,” Ming Ying had no idea what earth-shattering, heaven-weeping things they might say.
Better not.
With that, Ming Ying had no one else to ask.
So, hugging his phone, just before sleep, his mind went blank and he sent another message.
Mingo: Are we considered friends?
And just like that, Student Ming Ying sent this even more earth-shattering, straight-man-esque line. And without waiting for a reply, he fell asleep.
When he woke up the next day, Ming Ying lazed in bed for a good while before suddenly remembering the brain-dead question he had sent to XI the night before!
He hurriedly rolled over and grabbed his phone.
Pressing it open, over a dozen messages flooded his screen: spam ads, emails, and messages from his childhood friends’ group.
Ming Ying squinted, frowning, and scrolled for a long time before reaching his chat interface with XI.
For some reason, he felt a little nervous.
However, upon opening it, Ming Ying couldn’t help but frown.
The good news: the other party had replied.
The bad news: it was a rhetorical question.
XI: What do you think?
Damn.
Ming Ying didn’t know if XI, like him, also pondered word-for-word how to reply to every message, but he had to admire that her replies always left him momentarily speechless.
If he answered ‘yes,’ would she then think they could only be friends?
If he answered ‘no’… if not, what were they?
And if he didn’t reply… that would be too awkward.
Damn.
And so, the good mood Student Ming Ying had earned by acting like a good student the night before vanished in an instant.
He ruffled his hair and decided to get up first and think later.
But as soon as he opened his door, his stomach growled first.
So Ming Ying decided to go make some food and think later.
In the not-so-early morning, Mark was nowhere to be seen in the living room. Judging by the position of the shoes, Ming Ying determined Mark was still sleeping in his room.
Ming Ying opened the fridge and finally started contemplating the ultimate question of international students: What can I eat?
Everything he’d brought from China was basically instant food. He’d been eating that for days on end. Eating it again, Ming Ying felt a little sorry for himself.
But whether ordering takeout or eating out, it was all too expensive…
He circled the apartment kitchen again, finally leaning on the range hood and sighing.
At this very second, he was probably the student in the whole world who most wanted school to start so he could eat there.
Forget it, he’d make do with some noodles. When Mark woke up, they could go to the supermarket together and buy some things. Anyway, school started in just two days.
Ming Ying turned on the stove, ready to make himself a bowl of plain, simple noodles. Who knew that while fumbling around, suddenly, something triggered the apartment’s fire alarm.
In an instant, the piercing alarm bell shook the entire apartment building.
Ming Ying, holding a spatula, froze.
Mark rushed out of his room. Seeing the alarm going off and the person in the kitchen, he shrugged helplessly, saying, “Dear Ming, you are about to receive your first fine from New York City.”
…
Ming Ying couldn’t even describe what happened next. Yes, because he wanted to make a bowl of noodles, he ended up summoning the New York Fire Department.
He was incredibly flustered and sincerely explained to them that he was just, simply, purely, wanting to eat a bowl of noodles.
Luckily, this kind of accident seemed to happen often. The firefighters were used to it and didn’t make things difficult for them, just leaving a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar fine before leaving.
After watching the fire truck drive away, Ming Ying was still in shock.
Mark was also quite shaken, sitting on the sofa munching on potato chips. “Scared me to death!”
Ming Ying lowered his head, rubbing his temple. Looking at the fine for accidentally triggering the alarm, he felt a massive headache.
Of all the amounts to fine! Damn $250!
Ming Ying felt the world was mocking him.
He let out an “Ah,” collapsed onto the carpet, and lay there for a while. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. Hey? He now had a legitimate reason not to reply to that message!
Ming Ying sat up as if resurrected, clutching his phone and sending messages. Mark, watching from the side, thought money was pouring out of his phone.
Mingo: XI, have you ever accidentally triggered your apartment’s fire alarm? TvT
Two blue checkmarks lit up.
Ming Ying was stunned. So fast?
But the other person had read it and didn’t reply immediately.
Ming Ying sighed. Just as he was about to exit the chat interface, a message from the other side popped up.
XI: Not surprised.
Ming Ying: “…”
What did that mean? How did Ming Ying taste a hint of schadenfreude in those three words?
Ming Ying rubbed his chin. At that moment, XI sent another message.
XI: Fire alarms can be physically prevented from false triggers. If you don’t know how, you can look up a tutorial online.
“How do you chat in Chinese on WhatsApp?” Mark suddenly chimed in, having drawn close without Ming Ying noticing.
Ming Ying jumped in fright. “Mark, don’t appear out of thin air. I’ve been unlucky enough today.”
Mark blinked, “Really? But it looked like you were chatting very intently. Is that the hot girl from the airport?”
Ming Ying jumped again. How did Mark’s eyes work? How could he tell anything like that?
Mark laughed loudly. “I guessed right, Ming. Don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost, okay? Tell me what you guys talked about. I’ll help you analyze it.”
Mark’s gossip bug was acting up again.
Ming Ying was also suffering severely. After thinking it over, he actually agreed.
So he selectively recounted his dialogue with XI to Mark. The latter raised an eyebrow and said, “Ming, your techniques for chasing girls are really old-fashioned.”
Ming Ying exclaimed, “Ah! This doesn’t count, right? We’ve only met once.”
“Oh? So you don’t like her?”
Ming Ying’s eyes widened.
“Think about it seriously. Has your mood been led around by her lately? Happy, sad, anxious—is it because of her? If so, then how does it not count?”
Ming Ying thought carefully and had to admire Mark’s nose as a veteran in the field of love.
Indeed, his emotions recently had been fluctuating because of the person on the other end of the phone. If this was liking, then…
“So, what should I do?” Ming Ying asked humbly for advice.
“You don’t understand girls.” Mark was brimming with confidence, smiling as he said, “The key to chasing a girl isn’t the chase itself, but first letting the girl see you, making her interested in you. Then, when you show a little more initiative, the other person will naturally agree.”
“See…?” Ming Ying clicked his tongue. “That’s a bit difficult. We mostly chat online.”
“Silly Ming!” Mark clapped him on the shoulder. “The ‘see’ I’m talking about means showing your charm. What does that have to do with online or offline?!”
“Huh?”
“To put it bluntly.” Mark winked at him, imparting his flirting skills. “Your chats are too clean. You need to learn to actively seduce. Understand?”
Damn.
Even a fool would understand that, let alone Ming Ying, who was no fool. He automatically ran the conversion in his head.
Seduce—seduce Teacher XI?
