Actually, he wanted to say “buy reading glasses,” but fearing that would be too much and he’d get beaten, he didn’t dare.
Ming Ying hung up the Board Member’s call.
He said to Bruce, “Let’s go. This brother’s treating you to a meal.”
Bruce said, “Wow, Ming, when did you strike it rich?”
Ming Ying was immediately displeased. “Dude, is that really my reputation with you?”
He was just about to argue when, the next second, Bruce’s phone, right in front of him, suddenly rang.
“…”
Bruce said he needed to take this call.
But Ming Ying had a very ominous feeling about this…
Bruce answered the phone, ruffled his hair, and frowned. “Professor Steve? Okay—Ming? He is indeed next to me.”
Ming Ying also frowned and gestured to Bruce, asking who it was?
Bruce gave him a meaningful look while saying, “ok, we are coming back now.”
“…”
After Bruce hung up, Ming Ying asked, “Who?”
Bruce spread his hands helplessly. “Professor Steve.”
Ming Ying also spread his hands. “So?”
Bruce spread his hands even wider. “He wants us to go back.”
Ming Ying clapped both hands onto Bruce’s shoulders. “Can we not go back?”
Bruce sighed. “No.”
Ming Ying also sighed. “ok.”
So the two had no choice but to pick up their bags and head back.
By this time, the students in the classroom had mostly dispersed. Ming Ying spotted two figures still standing by the podium at a glance—Steve and Aston…
That old bastard indeed hadn’t left…
Ming Ying and Bruce exchanged a look. Ming Ying touched his nose and shuffled over with his eyes downcast.
Luckily, Steve was talkative, constantly lecturing and enlightening the two unlucky students before him.
Feeling guilty as sin, Comrade Ming Ying stared at Steve’s face the entire time, looking extremely earnest.
When the lecture was finally over, Steve patted their shoulders and said, “Good luck to you both! I have some matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave now.”
It was finally done.
Bruce smiled and said, “Goodbye, Professor. Goodbye, Mr. Aston. Well then, we’ll be off now.”
Ming Ying finally sighed in relief.
But the moment he looked up, just about to leave, he met Silas’s slightly narrowed eyes.
In an instant, all of Comrade Ming Ying’s sins flashed before his eyes.
“Buy glasses”… how did he even come up with that…
Seeing him finally look up, Aston curved his lip. Then he looked at Bruce and asked, with considerable gentlemanly grace, “Are you two going to eat?”
Bruce answered honestly. “Yes. To the cafeteria.”
“Mm, the cafeteria,” Aston nodded, pointing slightly at Ming Ying, who had his head lowered and had barely spoken the whole time. “Together with fellow student Ming Ying?”
Bruce smiled very enthusiastically. “Of course. Ming said he’s treating me to lunch today.”
Ming Ying heard Silas laugh.
I f…
Ming Ying nervously fiddled with his backpack strap, because he hadn’t forgotten the scene this morning where he’d suggested inviting this old bastard to eat together…
He looked up. The man standing before him still wore that same expression, looking at him as if saying nothing and yet saying everything.
Under that gaze, which made the tip of his heart tingle slightly, another ten thousand little ponies stampeded through Ming Ying’s heart.
“Ahem.”
Ming Ying coughed, and began his act of chasing skirts and forgetting brothers, declaring his loyalty. “Uh, Bruce, sorry, I, uh, I’ve got something on today. Can’t go eat with you. You go ahead. I’ll treat you next time.”
Bruce’s eyes widened. “Ming, we’ve only walked these few steps. Have you gone bankrupt again?”
“…”
If only it was just bankruptcy, that would be easy.
Ming Ying coughed again. “Er, I, uh…”
Just as Comrade Ming Ying was hesitating, Silas suddenly lifted his hand to check his wristwatch, picked up the speech notes from the podium, and then said, “Then, I wish you both a pleasant lunch.”
He seemed ready to leave.
No way… was the old bastard letting him off lightly?
Ming Ying watched his retreating back. Suddenly, his phone buzzed.
XI: 367
“…”
…He was still that old bastard, damn it.
Ming Ying grit his teeth and said to Bruce without changing his expression, “My dad was bitten by a dog this morning when he went out. I’ve gotta go check on him!”
Bruce was shocked. “Ming, your father is actually in New York? Then do you need me to take you to the hospital?”
Ming Ying waved his hand. “No need, he deserves it.”
Bruce’s eye twitched. He mentally concocted a whole family ethics drama. Finally, he patted Ming Ying’s shoulder. “Okay, when you feel like eating with me, contact me.”
“Mm.” Ming Ying said, “You go ahead. I’ll leave in a bit.”
Wait for that old bastard to get a little further away.
Bruce patted his shoulder again.
However, after waiting a while, when Ming Ying exited the classroom, he saw Aston standing in the long corridor, looking down at his phone.
Damn it. He just had to mess with him like this…
Ming Ying glanced back at the classroom door, thinking to himself: That last line just now… he couldn’t have heard it, right…
Since this corridor was the only way out, Comrade Ming Ying, even if he plastered himself against the wall, would inevitably have to pass by Mr. Aston.
Thankfully, there were still scattered crowds passing by. Comrade Ming Ying’s little brain kicked into gear. He followed behind two female students, planning to slip past using them as cover.
But the devil is always one step ahead—
Silas: “Ming?”
Ming Ying stopped in his tracks, coughed, adjusted his bag, then turned his head, tilted it, and lifted the corner of his mouth, speaking in English: “Has Mr. Aston not left yet? I thought you had already departed.”
He pretended they weren’t close, and the person opposite him didn’t expose him either.
Aston rolled up the speech notes in his hand. “Why aren’t you going to eat with that gentleman?”
Ming Ying gave an “ah” sound. “He has some things to do. We can only reschedule.”
Aston frowned. “Is that so? But I heard him say it was your father who was bitten by a dog, and you told him to leave first.”
“…”
F.
Ming Ying cursed inwardly. He glanced at the people passing by and could only say, “These days, dogs are just so impolite, haha.”
Silas glanced at him, said no more, and took the lead, walking away with his speech notes.
Damn it.
Ming Ying had no choice but to follow.
So the two walked in single file, just like in the morning, the only difference being this time Silas was in front and Ming Ying behind.
Above them was the clear, bright Manhattan blue sky, but at this moment, Ming Ying was in no mood to appreciate it.
Because he was clutching his phone, sending messages.
Mingo: I can explain.
Mingo: I was really paying attention to what you were saying…
Mingo: But you know, Earth has gravity. If the pen wanted to drop, what could I do about it? Am I right…
Mingo: I don’t want to go to the reading room…
Mingo: Baby.
Mingo: [Puppy crying.jpg]
…
However, after Ming Ying sent nearly ten messages in a row, a certain someone only glanced at his phone once along the way, then didn’t look again.
This pissed Ming Ying off so much that he followed up with five [Puppy baring teeth] stickers in a row from behind.
Finally, the two went upstairs. In the elevator, with only the two of them left, Ming Ying leaned against the wall and glanced at the straight back of the figure in front of him, still not daring to speak.
But this “not daring” was different from a moment ago when others were present. This time it was because of the surveillance camera, otherwise…
Beep. The elevator doors opened.
Another beep, and the door to 367 opened.
This sound was like the opening of Pandora’s box. Ming Ying couldn’t help but recall the scene of his first visit to this place.
He hesitated for a moment, then followed in.
The instant he stepped inside, Comrade Ming Ying launched his attack.
He hugged Silas’s waist from behind, very obediently pressed his face against the man’s back, and said in a deliberately coy voice, “Boss, I didn’t mean it. The wind was so strong outside, I was worried about your eyes, so I told you to buy a pair of glasses. Plus, you’d look extra handsome in glasses. Trust me.”
Silas didn’t speak, but took two steps forward. Ming Ying didn’t let go either, just clinging to the man’s back and shuffling along.
These two steps were incredibly difficult. Silas finally managed to drag the warm little creature attached to his back over to the desk. He put down his speech notes and bag.
Only then did he turn his face slightly and pat the hands locked around his waist. “Ming, let go first.”
“Don’t wanna.”
Damn old bastard. The moment I let go, you’ll turn around and start messing with me again.
Ming Ying wasn’t stupid.
Silas: “Think carefully before you speak.”
“…”
Hearing this, Ming Ying didn’t dare move. He could only release his hands.
The next second, he, along with his bag, was lifted bodily and placed on the desk.
F… Ming Ying was startled.
Silas braced his hands on either side of him. His expression was still relatively normal. “Ming, hung up on me again?”
“…” Ming Ying wasn’t feeling guilty. “Well, it was your fault first, okay!”
Silas raised an eyebrow. “For example?”
Ming Ying: “Why didn’t you tell me you were the main speaker!”
Silas: “Did you ask me?”
“So if I don’t ask, you don’t tell?” Ming Ying asked. “And dare you say you weren’t doing that on purpose just now!”
Silas: “Doing what on purpose?”
At the mention of this, Ming Ying’s anger flared. “Deliberately calling on me.”
Silas found it amusing. “So, you also deliberately got the question wrong, is that right?”
Ming Ying panted a couple of times. Seeing that smug face just made him even more frustrated.
So he laughed too, a very infuriating laugh. “Then what’s this now? As a School Leader, well-dressed on stage, yet worse than a beast offstage, deliberately messing with a young male student?”
“…”
The world fell silent.
Damn, what… what had he just said…
As expected, Silas frowned at him, saying nothing.
In the silence, Ming Ying’s eyelid twitched. After a moment, he tentatively reached out again, wanting to touch the man’s waist.
But this mischievous hand failed to succeed.
Because the next instant, Ming Ying felt his body lighten. Before he could even gasp, he was lifted up, the back of his head pinned as he was kissed deeply.
This old pervert not only pressed down on his head but also gripped his waist, plundering his air and sweeping through his lips and tongue.
Ming Ying was kissed into a daze. He’d wanted to curse at first, but later, he unconsciously lifted his arms to wrap around the old pervert’s neck, as if he were about to melt in this tiny space.
In broad daylight, bright sunlight streamed unobstructed through the blinds behind them, seeming to shine straight into someone’s heart.
“Mm, I… I have class this afternoon, I…”
“Mm, I know.”
“Hey, no, no touching there.”
“Mm, got it.”
“F, are you trying to tickle me to death so you can inherit my thirteen essay assignments hahahahaha…”
A thousand years later…
Ming Ying straightened his clothes, blinked his hazy eyes, and leaned against the wall for a long while before his vision refocused.
Silas touched his face. “Ming, come eat.”
“Ah? Oh.”
Ming Ying looked up and finally had the chance to properly observe this reading room.
It was very simple and plain, not very large. Besides the desk, the most plentiful things here were books and various architectural models. It was clearly Mr. Aston’s secret base.
What it was used for before, he didn’t know. Anyway, today it was being used for a tryst with a male student.
Ming Ying slowly shuffled over and sat down. He flipped through the lunch boxes on the table. Eight Treasure Duck, Fried Shrimp, Ribs with Rice Cakes… all his favorites.
Ming Ying was surprised and delighted. “When was this prepared?”
Silas: “Just now. Someone delivered it.”
Ming Ying smiled, glancing at him. “Aiya, what should I eat first?”
Comrade Ming Ying had a sudden bright idea. He shifted his chair closer to the person beside him.
Silas sensed the movement and turned his face to look at him.
Their eyes met. The shadows cast by the light were already overlapping.
The next second, Silas reached over, pinched Ming Ying’s chin, and turned the boy’s face back towards the food. “Eat.”
Ming Ying made a “tch” sound.
As he ate, Ming Ying suddenly said, “What I said earlier… you’re not allowed to take it to heart…”
Silas glanced at him.
Ming Ying suddenly felt he’d sounded too forceful, so he tried to make up for it. “Uh, I mean, it was just angry talk, something I blurted out. Uh, well, I like it when you’re worse than a beast. Wait, no, I mean, you get what I mean, right?”
Silas looked at him and suddenly laughed. “Mm.”
“…”
This time, Ming Ying understood this laugh. It clearly read: Why would I nitpick with a kid like you?
Ming Ying poked his chopsticks, still not satisfied.
He said, “But you are really infuriating. You’re the main speaker, and you didn’t even tell me.”
Silas put a piece of duck meat into his bowl. “Ming, I don’t quite understand. Is who the main speaker is really that important?”
“Of course.” Ming Ying said, “If I’d known it was you… at least,”
At least what… at least he would have prepared a little first?
But wouldn’t that be playing right into someone’s hands?
No, no.
“…At least I wouldn’t have complained.” Ming Ying gave him a slight smile. “I would have complained internally.”
Silas completely understood what he was thinking. He didn’t refute it, just curved his lip slightly. “I’ll pay more attention next time.”
Ming Ying suddenly put down his bowl, took out his phone, and said, “Don’t move.”
Silas: “What’s wrong?”
Ming Ying held up his phone, looking at the man in the lens, clicking his tongue. “As expected of the Boss, huh? Your expression changes so fast. You practically ate me alive on stage just now, but now you’re smiling so nicely. Evidence, evidence—I absolutely have to take a picture!”
Silas said nothing, just let him take the photo.
Ming Ying clicked, successfully capturing the incriminating evidence. He asked, “—Speaking of which, let’s not have a ‘next time.’ This lecture of yours should only be once a year, right?”
Silas: “Look it up yourself when you get back.”
Ming Ying: “Heh.”
Immediately after, he heard Silas ask, “Ming, you’ve been in New York for less than two months, haven’t you?”
Ming Ying was startled, then shook his head. “No…”
“Where have you visited?”
Ming Ying thought for a moment. “Nowhere really…”
When he thought about it carefully, he really hadn’t been anywhere.
Because his academic tasks were heavy, plus there was this old man. His life now was just two points and a line: school—old man’s house, occasionally going back to his own apartment.
If he had to name anywhere special, it would be that GAY bar… wait, no, no, he’d rather not have gone there.
So, Comrade Ming Ying declared proudly, “Uh. I love studying so much. Besides school, I’ve only ever been to… been to that someone’s house…”
Silas: “Whose house?”
Ming Ying: “…”
Silas: “The house of the one who’s worse than a beast?”
Ming Ying, hearing this, swung his leg and nudged the thigh of the beast beside him. “Didn’t I say, you’re not allowed to take that to heart…”
Silas: “Ming, I’m just repeating your own words.”
Ming Ying quickly said, “Mm mm mm, I wrongly accused you. I’m the beast. I am.”
Just like that, by the light filtering through the blinds, a little beast sat next to an old beast, contentedly finishing their lunch.
After the meal, Silas said, “I’ll take you out on Wednesday.”
Ming Ying didn’t react. “Ah?”
Silas looked at him. “Aren’t you going away for the competition next week?”
Ming Ying: “Mm. Yes.”
Silas: “There’s time.”
After saying this, he got up and walked towards the door.
Ming Ying followed behind Silas, belatedly realizing: Damn it, the old bastard couldn’t be thinking of…
Silas walked to the door, pressed his fingerprint, then turned to look at the person lost in thought, frowning. “Ming, what are you thinking about?”
Ming Ying’s face flushed a little. “Cough, uh, well, I think ‘outside’ is really not necessary. I’m quite conservative, you know…”
“…”
Why wasn’t he speaking?
Ming Ying looked up and met the man’s slightly puzzled gaze.
“Conservative?”
“Mm…”
“Ming, I meant taking you outside.”
“Mm?”
“Out. Side.” Silas said, “It means going out and walking around. What were you thinking?”
“…”
Ming Ying: “Oh. So Boss is that innocent?”
Silas gave a sound of agreement, suppressing a smile. He added, “Give me your hand.”
Ming Ying asked warily, “What for?”
Silas: “Record your fingerprint.”
Ming Ying’s eyes widened. “I get access too?”
Silas: “Why wouldn’t you?”
Ming Ying felt a little pleased inside, but he frowned. “This, isn’t this a privilege only for professors or leaders and the like? Is this allowed per regulations?”
Beep beep beep, three sounds from the door lock, fingerprint registration complete.
Silas stated: “I set the rules.”
“…”
What could Ming Ying say? There were advantages to being a capitalist too, eh?
…
That night, Ming Ying dreamed.
He dreamed of strolling down the streets of Manhattan with Silas.
Majestic overpasses, orange-gold sunsets, endless streams of cars, and the two of them, moving unhurriedly.
In the dream, Ming Ying was feeling pretty good, until he leaned closer and was suddenly startled—
He discovered that he and Silas were actually holding hands!
Damn. A normal stroll was okay, but holding hands wasn’t.
What guy walks down the street holding another guy’s hand?
Ming Ying couldn’t decide which dream was scarier—this one, or the one where Silas spanked him with a belt…
In a daze, Tuesday arrived.
After class that Tuesday, Ming Ying specifically went back to his apartment first. For no other reason than because, damn it, he had nothing suitable to wear out at Silas’s place.
In his room, he rummaged through his closets, thinking: Would a suit be too formal… but wearing his usual clothes might be too casual…
Ming Ying held up clothes to the mirror for a long time.
Suddenly, for a fleeting moment, he had a terrifying feeling—
He felt like one of those girls in a TV drama, waiting to go on a date with her sweetheart…
Damn.
Ming Ying threw down the clothes. He wanted to slap his own face, but couldn’t bear to, so he settled for touching it instead.
He thought of that dream about holding hands again.
Damn it, was he poisoned or something?!
Right at that moment, his phone suddenly rang.
Ming Ying snapped back to reality, picked it up, and looked. Caller ID: XI
Ming Ying quickly cleared his throat and answered, “Hello, you here already?”
Who knew there would be a pause on the other end before a voice said, “Ming Ying, come out.”
Ha?
Why did that tone sound off?
Ming Ying’s heart skipped a beat… Wait, Mark couldn’t be home, could he?
“I’m coming out now, wait for me.”
Ming Ying scrambled up and jogged out of his room, only to find two men staring at each other in the living room.
What was even worse, one of them was… only wearing a bath towel around his lower half…
