Ming Ying admitted his fault at lightning speed.
However, the person on the other end didn’t seem to be buying it.
XI: Where did you go wrong?
Mingo: I shouldn’t have sent you those kinds of photos during a lecture. [facepalm]
XI: Mm.
XI: You need to be obedient.
Mingo: [Furious Nodding.jpg]
Ming Ying thought to himself, Can I go now?
But clearly, he was thinking too much. XI seemed genuinely determined to lecture him. The moment he sent the sticker, a reply came.
XI: So, continue.
…
Ming Ying had no idea how things had turned out this way.
If the XI who chatted with him before was a gentle teacher, the current XI was absolutely a detestable Dean of Students.
In short, by the time the party outside ended, Ming Ying was still in this tiny toilet stall, being “forced” to complete the material for his vile thesis.
To make things worse, the person on the other side, with the critical tone of a thesis reviewer, was earnestly evaluating his pornographic photos and offering revision suggestions.
Ming Ying still had some shame left; his face was as red as a tomato. He didn’t dare scroll back through those chat logs at all.
Because a random swipe revealed conversations like this:
Mingo: [Image]
XI: Unqualified.
XI: Take off your pants.
Mingo: Teacher… aren’t people supposed to wear pants…
XI: Ming, repeat the key points of this research topic.
Mingo: Visual and artistic effect analysis of pornographic selfies…
Mingo: …Fine, I’ll take them off!
Mingo: [Image]
XI: Lighting is too bright, angles are too monotonous.
Mingo: Then how am I supposed to take them…
XI: Get the camera closer.
Mingo: Fine. [Crying]
…
Damn it, photos with fabric were a no-go, blurry photos were unqualified, and even monotonous angles were unacceptable!
Having been “disciplined” like this, Ming Ying was finally scared straight by XI. He swore that if time could turn back, he would never have sent those kinds of photos to the other person during a lecture!
—If he were to send them, he’d pick a different occasion.
Ming Ying ruffled his hair, wondering why, somehow, posing in a few angles for some pornographic selfies felt like he’d run a marathon.
It was killing him.
Just then, as the party was ending, the restroom became more crowded.
“Has anyone seen Ming?”
Ming Ying froze; it was Bruce’s voice.
“I dunno, who knows where he went.” Alan answered him.
Ming Ying panted in the toilet stall, hearing the footsteps outside, Alan and Bruce’s voices. He finally couldn’t take it anymore.
Mingo: Teacher, the party is over. I have to go back, I really can’t take any more.
Mingo: [Puppy Fainting.jpg]
About five minutes after this message was sent, his phone buzzed.
XI: I’m boarding the plane, taking off soon.
XI: Go back and refine the thesis outline. Can you finish it tomorrow?
WTF!!!
What the hell? What thesis outline?
Ming Ying silently pounded his chest. Why did he feel like XI was being serious?
Ming Ying weakly resisted.
Mingo: Can I not write it? [Crying]
After sending this message, it remained unread and unanswered.
Ming Ying let out a breath. It seemed XI had already boarded. She really left as soon as she said she would, no hesitation at all.
He got dressed and couldn’t resist flipping through the chat logs again. But the moment he opened it, his eyes were assaulted by a screen full of his own abs and thighs!
“…”
Damn it, their relationship used to be pure and flawless!
Ming Ying cursed, hurriedly closing it.
And so, Ming Ying, his soul seemingly detached from his body, returned to his apartment.
The moment he opened the door, Mark, who was playing games in the living room, screamed: “OH MY GOD!”
Even though he was used to Mark’s theatrics, Ming Ying was still startled. “Mark, please consider my heart condition.”
However, Mark didn’t care about Ming Ying’s heart at all. He asked very directly: “My dear Ming, are you still a virgin?”
“???”
Ming Ying’s eyes widened: “What are you talking about, Mark?”
Mark squinted, circling Ming Ying once, finally stopping and pointing at his face: “Ming, you look like you’ve been ravished.”
“???”
Ming Ying decisively widened his eyes to retort: “Bullshit! I’m just tired!”
Under Mark’s skeptical gaze, Ming Ying hastily fled.
He returned to his room, immediately throwing his phone far away, and collapsed onto his bed.
But his brain was still thinking for him. Mark’s line “you look like you’ve been ravished” echoed in his ears like a demonic chant.
Damn it. What the hell kind of mess was this?
Clearly, the main event today was supposed to be him seducing XI, so how had he become the one being teased…
Ming Ying rolled around on the bedsheet. He still had class tomorrow, and so many papers to read.
Thesis…
Holy crap.
Ming Ying realized he might never be able to look at those two words the same way again.
Dirty bastard. He clutched his blanket, cursing in his heart.
And thus, Ming Ying’s hectic day came to an end. He fell asleep just like that, naturally failing to complete the “homework” Silas had left him.
The next day, he slept in, rushed out of bed to get to class, and the moment he sat down in the classroom, he suddenly remembered this matter.
This class was Advanced Architectural Design Theory. Ming Ying shifted his laptop aside, then secretly opened his phone.
XI had actually replied to him at eleven o’clock last night!
Ming Ying got a little excited, but the moment he unlocked the screen, he covered his face.
Their conversation had ended on:
Mingo: Can I not write it? [Crying]
XI: What do you think?
Those four words again! Ming Ying snorted coldly, propped his chin on his hand, and started typing.
Mingo: I think I can not write it.
Sent successfully.
Ming Ying waited five minutes. The message was finally marked as read.
After it was read, he saw the interface show the other party was “Typing…”, but after waiting a while, no message came. Ming Ying began to suspect the signal was bad and couldn’t transmit.
So he looked up, glanced at the professor who was doing a self-introduction, then secretly stretched his arm out under the desk, trying to change the signal like that.
But it was useless.
Ming Ying couldn’t help but suspect that XI was busy and had forgotten to hit send.
So Ming Ying sent a sticker to remind her.
Mingo: [Puppy Spinning.jpg]
This time, XI replied.
XI: Are you in class?
Ming Ying’s eyes widened. Wait, how did she know he was in class?
Mingo: Yes, yes! How did you know I was in class?!
Mingo: [Curious]
Excited yet nervous, Ming Ying looked up, subtly scanning his surroundings. No, that’s not right, he didn’t see any girls…
The curly-haired boy sitting next to Ming Ying noticed his darting eyes and raised an eyebrow at him: “What are you looking at?”
Ming Ying came back to his senses, smiled: “Sorry, I was checking to see if there were any girls.”
Curly-haired boy: “Hahaha, are you telling a cold joke? We’re in the School of Architecture!”
Ming Ying: “…”
Uncultured little foreigner. He thought to himself.
At that moment, his phone buzzed. Ming Ying looked down.
XI: Not being obedient again?
Damn. Ming Ying almost dropped his phone.
Immediately, in point-one seconds, he processed XI’s meaning and hurriedly sent a message to salvage the situation.
Mingo: No such thing!
Mingo: I’m super incredibly obedient!
Mingo: It’s just that the professor is doing a self-introduction! So I took the time to message you!
Mingo: I was afraid you’d be worried if I didn’t reply! I really am paying attention in class!
Mingo: _
Watching the messages being read one by one, Ming Ying’s heart rose in his chest.
The next second, the phone vibrated.
XI: Mm. Pay attention in class.
Ming Ying had just breathed a sigh of relief when immediately—
XI: After class, I’ll find you.
Ming Ying facepalmed. His heart felt both excited and scared, which was hard to describe.
He’s really like a Dean of Students, dammit!
Poor Ming Ying had never been in a relationship and didn’t know if this type of process was correct, so he could only take it one step at a time.
On the other side, in Washington.
The man sat on the hotel’s spacious, expensive sofa, sipping his coffee. Seeing the “Mm mm” sticker pop up on his phone screen, the corner of his lips curled up slightly.
Meanwhile, Ming Ying had finally made it to the end of class.
Although he’d switched hemispheres, Ming Ying was still his old self. He really hadn’t absorbed much of the lecture, especially this pure theory stuff; the myriad of terms went in one ear and out the other.
But Ming Ying wasn’t worried at all. Although he hadn’t listened much, with his IQ, this stuff was a piece of cake. He just needed to review the case studies when he got back, and that’d be it.
Right now, with his mind occupied by XI, even his walk was lazy and listless.
He checked his phone as he walked. By the time he got back to his apartment and saw no new messages, he thought, XI hasn’t forgotten about me, has he?
An inexplicable sense of disappointment subtly surfaced.
Damn it. Ming Ying hit himself. He was really about to turn into M!
But then, the next second, his phone screen jumped, just like his heart.
As if XI could see his class schedule, a timely message came through.
However, the content was something Ming Ying found rather embarrassing.
XI: Let’s discuss the matter of the thesis outline.
Ming Ying: “…”
Anyone who saw this sentence would think they were really discussing some serious matter.
Ming Ying gave a wry smile and started playing the pity card.
Mingo: Teacher, can we talk about something else? [Crying laughing]
XI: We can.
Ming Ying felt a surge of joy. But then, the next second.
XI: After the thesis is written.
Ming Ying seriously wanted to vomit blood.
Mingo: But taking photos is really hard…
XI: Ming, if you do something wrong, you have to bear the consequences, don’t you?
What else could Ming say?! Fine! Take them! Write it!
He took a deep breath.
Mingo: I beg for the teacher’s instruction.
Mingo: [Hands Clasped Together]
After two seconds.
XI: Where are you?
Holy crap. Ming Ying felt a stress reaction seeing those three words.
He hesitated.
Mingo: Outside. (′Д`)
After sending it, Ming Ying’s heart inexplicably raced. This was the first time he’d lied to XI!
A minute later, the message was read, and a reply jumped out.
XI: Should I trust you?
