Jiang Mian let Chen Gu grip his wrist like that, for an entire class period.
South Boundary was still hot in October, so the air conditioner in the classroom was running constantly.
But even so, Jiang Mian could still feel a thin layer of sweat forming where Chen Gu’s hand covered his wrist.
And even his palm was inexplicably slightly damp.
Probably because Chen Gu had so many little movements.
Jiang Mian thought.
After all, Chen Gu would occasionally graze his fingertips across the inside of Jiang Mian’s wrist. The calluses on his fingertips rubbed against the somewhat delicate skin, especially pressing against his radial artery, making him feel constantly on edge, and a bit ticklish too.
But Jiang Mian had no intention of shaking off Chen Gu’s hand.
It wasn’t until the professor dismissed class that Chen Gu hadn’t let go, and he hadn’t said anything either.
Chen Yishen looked at Jiang Mian and Chen Gu. He hadn’t noticed the little movements the two were making hidden beneath the desk, just speechless for a moment before asking: “Wanna eat together?”
Chen Gu didn’t speak, leaning lazily back in his chair, looking as if whatever Jiang Mian said was law.
It made Chen Yishen feel like he urgently needed a Quick-Acting Heart Pill.
Jiang Mian had originally planned on eating at the dining hall, but: “It’s peak mealtime, the cafeteria will be crowded. We’re not going.”
Chen Gu had said before that his Touch Starvation was the type where he craved touch yet couldn’t stand others touching him.
He would feel nauseous.
When it got crowded, jostling and physical contact were inevitable.
Chen Yishen, hearing this, didn’t insist on them joining, just waved his hand: “Then I’ll go wait for Huihui to get out of class. Have fun, you two.”
He chuckled mischievously: “I won’t disturb you.”
After adding that remark, he ran off at top speed, as if afraid of getting hit.
Like some naughty kid.
Classmates packed their things and left the classroom one after another. Only Jiang Mian and Chen Gu remained seated, unmoving.
It wasn’t that Jiang Mian didn’t want to move, but that Chen Gu hadn’t loosened his grip yet.
And Jiang Mian could feel it.
Chen Gu was truly having a relapse. This one lasted much longer than any of the previous ones.
…Did this illness flare up without any warning or reason at all?
Jiang Mian pressed his lips slightly, turned his head, and looked at Chen Gu.
The moment their eyes met, Chen Gu’s originally somewhat casual gaze instantly focused. He still looked completely nonchalant, but from his slightly curved brows and eyes, one could read tenderness and deep affection.
Jiang Mian asked softly: “Are you feeling better now?”
Hearing this, Chen Gu shifted closer to Jiang Mian, his arm pressing against Jiang Mian’s. “No.”
His puppy-dog eyes drooped, looking pitiful and delicate, his tone even weak and fragile: “Jiang Mian.”
Chen Gu seemed to have suffered a huge grievance: “I feel so awful.”
As he spoke, he raised his other hand as if to scratch his own arm. Jiang Mian didn’t react in time and watched helplessly as Chen Gu scratched four bloody trails onto his arm. Jolted by the glaring red, he reached out and grabbed Chen Gu’s hand to stop him. “You…”
Jiang Mian frowned at the bloodstains on his nails and the overly deep scratches on his arm, feeling as if the pain had transferred onto himself, his brows nearly knit together. “Didn’t I say not to scratch?”
Chen Gu hung his head. “Sorry.”
He sniffled, his voice light and pitiful: “But I really feel so awful.”
Chen Gu leaned against Jiang Mian, the fingers of the hand caught by Jiang Mian hanging limply.
His nails were actually trimmed very well—not long and slender, but rounded and close to the skin. Precisely because of that, to scratch his own skin open with such nails, drawing blood, required real force.
Jiang Mian could fully deduce from these four bloody gouges just how terrible Chen Gu must feel to do such a thing.
He pressed his lips together, listening to Chen Gu murmur his name again in a low voice: “Jiang Mian.”
Jiang Mian answered. Chen Gu only repeated: “I feel so awful.”
Jiang Mian was silent for a moment. “Bear with it for now. First, come back to my dorm with me. Okay?”
Chen Gu seemed to have lost all rationality, only looking at Jiang Mian pitifully with those moist puppy-dog eyes, resting his forehead on Jiang Mian’s shoulder and saying in a tiny voice: “I want to hug you.”
There were still students in the classroom who hadn’t left, discussing what to eat later or the problem the professor just explained. Chen Gu’s gesture and this sentence instantly spread a layer of crimson to the tips of Jiang Mian’s ears.
Jiang Mian always felt Chen Gu was doing it on purpose, yet he also truly sensed that Chen Gu was really having a relapse.
Because Chen Gu’s fingertips were restlessly rubbing his wrist. And he was indeed holding back, restraining himself to just staying close, not making any more intimate gestures.
But still…
Jiang Mian’s thoughts were in chaos for a moment.
…Could Chen Gu be taking advantage of his illness to pretend?
Amidst his own noisy heartbeat, Jiang Mian thought.
His body was taut. Because of Chen Gu’s proximity, his nerves were tense, like a bowstring drawn to its limit. With the slightest release, no one knew where the sharp arrow nocked on the string would fly.
Perhaps it would directly pierce Jiang Mian’s own heart—that wouldn’t be surprising.
“Chen Gu.”
But regardless of whether Chen Gu was pretending or acting, to Jiang Mian, the answer wasn’t important. “Let’s go back to my dorm, okay?”
Because he simply couldn’t say no to Chen Gu like this.
Even if he was certain it was fake, he still couldn’t.
Chen Gu responded in a low voice: “Okay.”
His long, fine eyelashes were lowered, his entire face hidden in shadow, making his expression unreadable.
So Jiang Mian didn’t know that Chen Gu’s face showed none of the agonized, confused torment of being afflicted by this psychological condition. Instead, his lips were lightly hooked, his eyes filled entirely with dark and cunning calculation.
Jiang Mian had guessed correctly.
Chen Gu was indeed having a relapse, and this time it was fiercer than ever. But he wasn’t the type to yield to it.
After so many years of struggle, Chen Gu could long since meet the once-nauseating craving with pain without changing expression.
He had never been merciful to himself.
And it was precisely because of this that he used himself as a trap for Jiang Mian to fall into.
As long as he could have Jiang Mian.
What happened to himself—Chen Gu never cared.
Chen Gu moved his lips and continued in that voice which stabbed straight at the heart, unbearably painful: “But I really feel so awful. Can I hold onto you?”
Jiang Mian stopped.
He closed his eyes. His body, originally tensed to an extreme, strangely relaxed instead.
So he had been waiting here all along.
Jiang Mian exhaled lightly, unable to describe what he felt inside.
Anyway, he had no intention of pushing Chen Gu away.
“Mm.”
Chen Gu raised an eyebrow slightly, thinking Jiang Mian agreed rather quickly.
But the surprises Jiang Mian had given him recently weren’t just this one.
So Chen Gu wrapped his hand around Jiang Mian’s wrist and slowly lifted his head.
He schooled his expression, maintaining that pitifully lovable look. But upon seeing Jiang Mian’s slightly lowered, half-lidded eyes, Chen Gu understood something.
As they spent more time together, becoming more and more familiar, seeing through each other became easier.
But Chen Gu was a little surprised that Jiang Mian, having clearly guessed, was still willing to walk into the trap.
His tongue swept over his molars. His mood inevitably grew increasingly light.
Because Jiang Mian had nodded and agreed himself. Chen Gu held onto his wrist as they walked back to the dorm.
When the two stood up, they were noticed by the classmates still in the room.
Seeing their actions, combined with the little interlude from the earlier class… yep, the atmosphere was strange.
Jiang Mian paid no mind to the stares cast their way and led Chen Gu straight back to his dorm.
The teaching building was a short distance from the dorms, and Jiang Mian didn’t speak the entire walk.
Chen Gu looked down at him, deliberately acting frail. “Jiang Mian.”
Jiang Mian looked up. Chen Gu said quietly: “Talk to me, please.”
Jiang Mian was slightly puzzled. “I’m not ignoring you.”
Confirming the person wasn’t angry, Chen Gu quietly let out a breath. While mocking himself inside, outwardly he continued doing the shameful thing: “I meant talk to me, say something.”
Chen Gu’s voice was soft. “Let me divert some attention. Otherwise, I keep thinking about it, and it’s so unbearable.”
Jiang Mian moved his lips. “Will that help?”
Chen Gu nodded pitifully.
So Jiang Mian had no choice but to open his mouth, racking his brain for a topic. “What do you want to eat later?”
“Do you have something you want?”
“I feel like eating rice noodle rolls.”
“Then let’s eat that.”
…
Chatting sporadically, they moved forward. Because he was worried about Chen Gu’s illness and his injury, Jiang Mian walked a bit faster than usual.
His eyes were only on Chen Gu, so he didn’t notice how many people were watching them along the way.
And Jiang Mian also didn’t know that, in others’ eyes, they truly looked like a young couple strolling across campus. Their posture and manner were completely different from when he was with Chen Yishen—though it was already different before.
But at least now, the contrast was much starker.
Arriving at the dorm, Chen Gu noticed the partition wall separating the desks from the beds and raised an eyebrow slightly.
Jiang Mian closed the door. As he turned around to bolt it, Chen Gu directly wound himself around him from behind.
Jiang Mian’s body stiffened.
Chen Gu’s arm encircled his waist and abdomen, trapping his other hand along with it.
His chest pressed against Jiang Mian’s slender back, solid like a wall, his shadow and body both encompassing Jiang Mian.
Jiang Mian’s breathing and heartbeat, along with his movements, stopped for a few seconds before restarting.
When he came back to his senses, he realized Chen Gu had already grasped the hand holding the key, guiding his hand to lock the door.
Hearing that final “click,” a chill inexplicably shot down Jiang Mian’s spine. A sense of danger jolted straight from his tailbone to the top of his head, transforming into a heavy hammer trying to jolt him awake.
Jiang Mian couldn’t help it and struggled slightly.
What followed was an even tighter entanglement.
Jiang Mian winced in pain, frowning as he called: “Chen Gu.”
He stated plainly: “You’re holding too tight. And I want to treat your wound first.”
“Don’t bother with it.” Chen Gu reluctantly loosened his arm a fraction, inexplicably vexed by Jiang Mian’s body which seemed like glass. “It’s not fatal.”
Jiang Mian: “?”
Expressionlessly, he called again: “Chen Gu.”
Sensing the person in his arms was getting a bit angry, Chen Gu had the agitated urge to simply hand Jiang Mian a knife and let him stab him to death.
But he ultimately held back, lest Jiang Mian truly get furious.
“You go get it. I’ll follow you.”
Jiang Mian: “…”
Knowing Chen Gu was truly having a relapse, he ultimately compromised, letting Chen Gu hang onto him as he arduously moved forward, walking to his cabinet and taking out the small Medicine Kit.
He waited for a while, but Chen Gu still didn’t release him.
Jiang Mian pressed his lips together. “Are you still not better?”
Chen Gu responded: “Jiang Mian, this doesn’t seem to work anymore.”
The agitation and countless indescribable thoughts inside him were still tearing at him frantically, sprouting one dark idea after another.
Jiang Mian recalled the “Addictiveness” he’d read about online that day.
He also knew that medications built resistance, requiring increased dosage over time. He just hadn’t expected this condition to follow the same rule.
So Jiang Mian sighed softly and compromised. “Then what do you suggest?”
The illness was Chen Gu’s. Only Chen Gu knew how to relieve it.
Chen Gu said softly: “Don’t move.”
Jiang Mian obediently didn’t move.
Thus, his entire body was directly lifted by Chen Gu. The sensation of weightlessness halted Jiang Mian’s breath. But in just an instant, he landed in Chen Gu’s embrace, and Chen Gu sat down on his Computer Chair.
Jiang Mian’s pupils contracted sharply. He completely stiffened, not daring to move at all now.
Because…
He was directly sitting on Chen Gu’s lap. His toes dangled, barely touching the ground.
Jiang Mian seemed embedded directly into Chen Gu’s embrace, practically plastered against him.
He could even feel it.
Chen Gu’s heart seemed glued to his shoulder blade, beating wildly.
