XI: Then wait until I come back tonight.
Come back tonight.
XI didn’t ask why he suddenly stopped replying, just said she would come back tonight. Was this… an explanation?
Crap. You’re reading too much into it again, really.
Ming Ying smacked his own forehead but still typed a reply, feeling quite pleased.
Mingo: Yes, Ma’am, Teacher.
Mingo: [Kissy face]
The moment the [Kissy face] sticker sent, Ming Ying instinctively wanted to recall it, but he forcibly stopped himself.
What’s the big deal, he thought, looking at his hand. In her eyes, don’t I even qualify to send a [Kissy face]? She’s basically seen everything except… that place. What’s wrong with sending a [Kissy face]? Hmph.
Ming Ying ran a hand through his hair. Suddenly, his phone buzzed.
Ming Ying felt his hand tremble along with the beat of his heart.
XI: Mm.
Just one word. But, YES!!!
Ming Ying secretly fist-pumped.
Then, humming his little tune again, he went and carried Ben over.
The big one and the little one leaned against the kitchen doorframe, chatting idly with the cooking staff.
Chatting away, Ming Ying actually got a burst of chef-inspiration and tried to go in to learn a few tricks. Fortunately, the chef took one look and saw right through his kitchen-disaster constitution, promptly shooing him out.
XI had excellent taste in food. This time, she had them come over to make some homestyle Southern Chinese dishes.
Steamed fish, twice-cooked pork, white cut chicken…
They looked, smelled, and no doubt tasted fantastic. Ming Ying suppressed the urge to ask how much these few dishes cost, only lavished them with praise, then got up to grab his phone.
Click, click, click—he snapped photos of all the dishes and sent them to XI.
Mingo: [Picture]
Mingo: [Picture]
Mingo: [Picture]
…
Mingo: Looks so delicious. What did you eat for lunch?
His phone buzzed twice in succession.
XI: Eat more.
XI: I’m at the school.
Ming Ying thought, why at school? If she’d mentioned it earlier, he could’ve just taken Ben to the school. Why stay here?
He picked up his chopsticks, thought for a moment, then asked anyway.
Mingo: What time will you be back, roughly?
Mingo: [Puppy spinning sticker]
Crap. The moment that message sent, Ming Ying felt something was off. Wasn’t this just like some young wife, a watcher-stone waiting at home alone while her husband was out?
Ugh.
Ming Ying hurriedly sent a follow-up.
Mingo: When you’re back, we can discuss what to eat tonight.
Yeah. That sounds better.
XI: Okay.
Ming Ying put his phone away with a grin, raising an eyebrow.
Then he played video games with Ben all afternoon.
Luckily, XI was genuinely busy this time and didn’t monitor them at all. After Sophie picked Ben up, Ming Ying was left alone, bored, slouching on the sofa for a while.
As he sprawled there, he fell asleep.
Lately, the weather in New York always cleared up towards evening, so the warm yellow light spilling through the glass windows always had a particularly strong soporific effect.
Silas returned in just such a twilight.
He didn’t actually come to this place often. Usually, only if he left the school late would he crash here.
Silas came up from the underground parking garage, stepped into the elevator, and opened the remote surveillance on his phone.
The moment he opened it, a soft laugh escaped his lips.
Asleep again.
…
Ming Ying’s sleep wasn’t actually deep. So the “ding” of the elevator doors had already woken him.
The reason he didn’t immediately get up was because he felt like he was dreaming. Sighing within his dream, Ming Ying groggily opened his eyes.
His vision was blurry, the light slowly focusing. He seemed… to see a man?
Wait, was he dreaming?
Ming Ying rubbed his eyes and was instantly wide awake.
He propped himself up on his arm, a trace of dazedness lingering, and got a clear look at the newcomer.
Male, wearing a trench coat, very tall—a foreigner.
What the hell?!?!
Ming Ying’s first reaction: Could this be XI’s dad…
In that split second, Ming Ying’s mind conjured a whole melodramatic soap opera: XI’s dad discovering her online relationship and coming to the scene to catch the culprit!
Ming Ying was so scared he shot to his feet, the blanket draped over him falling to the floor with a slap.
The man changed his shoes in the entrance hall, seeming to notice the commotion. He looked up and saw the young man who looked like he’d been zapped by static electricity and the blanket on the floor.
Silas frowned slightly.
But he assumed Ming Ying was just disoriented from being woken up. So, after changing his shoes, he headed towards the kitchen to get Ming Ying a glass of water, saying as he went, “Ming, pick up the blanket.”
What the…???
Ming Ying didn’t hear a word Silas said, because the instant he saw the man’s face, he turned to stone. Literally petrified.
What? XI’s dad was actually that weird, that strange Professor!!!
Was God joking with him? This kind of joke?!
Was there still any hope for him and XI in this lifetime???
Ming Ying stood there numbly, then suddenly blurted out, “Uh, Uncle, I, I didn’t mean it, y’know.”
Uncle.
Silas stopped in his tracks.
He turned around, holding the water glass, and narrowed his eyes at Ming Ying beside the sofa.
Something seemed to be off.
Before Silas could figure out the logic, Ming Ying put on an expression of facing his doom. “Uh, about this, I can explain. It’s just, me and Cherry, we’re sincere. I absolutely, absolutely meant no disrespect to her, that thing—wait, can you understand Chinese?”
Damn it.
Ming Ying ruffled his hair. He’d literally rather XI’s dad be Thomas!
Just then, Ming Ying heard the man repeat very softly, “Cherry?”
Ming Ying’s heart lurched violently. He quickly grabbed his bag and said in English, “Sorry, professor. I didn’t mean anything to Cherry. I’ll go first. I’m really sorry.”
After rattling off several “Sorry”s, Ming Ying was ready to run.
However, Silas set down the water glass. His expression wasn’t exactly good, but far better than Ming Ying’s. He frowned and said, “Sit down. I think there’s a misunderstanding between us.”
Damn! He actually spoke Chinese! Then he definitely understood what I just said, and he didn’t even deny it—it’s actually true?!
Ming Ying trembled. And he wanted him to stay—was he planning to silence him forever?!
Ming Ying’s only thought now was to escape, completely unable to listen to anything. This was even more terrifying than skipping class.
“Then I’ll, I’ll just go to the restroom first,” Ming Ying said.
Silas raised a hand, indicating the direction.
But Ming Ying hugged his backpack, not daring to look up. “Thanks. Thanks.”
Fortunately, Ming Ying had been here before and could find it without looking. He slid into the bathroom, then leaned over the sink, gasping for breath.
He turned on the faucet, splashed water on his face to clear his head, then immediately took out his phone.
His chat history with XI had stopped at noon. Looking at it now, did that mean XI was discovered by her dad at noon?
Too terrifying. Why did it have to be him!
If it had been any old guy like Thomas, he wouldn’t be this scared.
Ming Ying took a few deep breaths, telling himself to calm down. Pocketing his phone, he stealthily cracked open the bathroom door.
That strange professor was sitting in the living room, his back to the hallway. And the hallway bathroom was very close to the main entrance.
Ming Ying’s clever little brain calculated quickly. He slipped out of the bathroom, crept silently to the door, then—Open it! Go downstairs! Run!—all in one fluid motion!
Ming Ying fled without a second’s hesitation.
When Silas realized no one was there, ten minutes had passed.
He opened the bathroom door, saw water droplets splashed beside the sink, and suddenly laughed. In sheer anger.
…
After bolting from the building, Ming Ying walked extremely fast, as if someone was chasing him.
Along the way, a heavyset police officer even asked him if he needed help.
When a person suffers a shock, they tend to talk nonsense.
Ming Ying was no exception. Gasping for air from running, caught by this officer, he immediately frowned and said, “My romantic partner’s dad is that terrifying professor. What am I gonna do? I also got caught by him, for sending lewd photos to his daughter. I’m not gonna get arrested, am I?”
—Crap! He just remembered—that Silas guy had a double degree! He also had a law degree!
Now the specialization for catching him was perfectly matched.
Ming Ying felt all hope drain away.
The heavy-set officer exchanged a look with his lanky partner and asked, “How much medicine did you take?”
Ming Ying: “…”
Ming Ying rubbed his head, seeming to finally come to his senses. He walked to the curb and hailed a cab.
Throughout the ride, Ming Ying fell silent.
He had to ask again: How did things come to this?
Of course, this question wasn’t unique to Ming Ying. Silas also had some confusion.
Right now, he was reviewing the security footage on his phone—specifically, the segment of Ming Ying plastering himself against the wall to sneak out and escape.
Silas dragged the progress bar back and forth, watching it three times. Finally, he tossed his phone onto the sofa.
Ming must have mistaken him for someone else.
Silas quickly reached this conclusion.
It sounded absurd, but it was the only possibility.
Ming Ying, however, wasn’t that calm. He’d simply taken the man’s lack of immediate denial as absolute truth. Back at his apartment, he hardly dared to look when a message came in on his phone.
So what did he do?
Driven by an intense, unprecedented love of learning, he pulled out the small paper he hadn’t finished revising the night before.
Staring intently for a while, he suddenly spotted his notes—the revision suggestions XI had given him.
Damn!
Ming Ying sighed and tossed his pen aside.
He sat there dejectedly for a while. Then, as if some wire crossed in his brain, an idea suddenly popped up—he wanted to be with XI.
Two souls were arguing in Ming Ying’s head.
One said: Are you crazy?
