Whether it was wearing someone else’s slippers or drinking the leftover water from someone else’s cup, Qi Yang found a perfect, solid excuse for every one of these actions.
He simply wanted to provoke Mu Yicong.
The more Mu Yicong didn’t want to have anything to do with him, the more Qi Yang wanted to stain everything that belonged to Mu Yicong, to leave his mark on Mu Yicong’s personal belongings, and to see Mu Yicong helpless and forced to deal with him.
He wanted to see Mu Yicong torn apart by his antics, ripping off that annoying mask of calm.
This twisted mentality, hidden with a secret thrill, was a form of “destruction” on a psychological level.
Qi Yang had a strong urge to destroy Mu Yicong.
But if Mu Yicong could be so easily angered by Qi Yang, he wouldn’t be Mu Yicong.
Watching Qi Yang drink the last bit of water from his cup, Mu Yicong’s gaze flickered almost imperceptibly to the rim of the cup, where droplets clung.
Qi Yang slammed the cup back onto the table with a bang.
Mu Yicong withdrew his gaze and replied flatly, “Clean it before you leave.”
Qi Yang laughed cheerfully. “In your dreams.”
After drinking, Qi Yang lazily pulled his homework out of his backpack. Then he looked around, refused to take out his own pen, and grabbed Mu Yicong’s pen instead.
He took Mu Yicong’s homework.
He took Mu Yicong’s scratch paper.
Like a malicious intruder, he slowly tested Mu Yicong’s limits.
“You’re copying homework and still need to check calculations?” Mu Yicong snapped, growing annoyed as the things in front of him were nearly all taken by Qi Yang.
“This isn’t your own home, is it?” Qi Yang asked, ignoring the question, twirling the pen as he copied the problems. “A rented place?”
Mu Yicong didn’t answer, pulling out another stack of scratch paper.
“I’m eating dinner here tonight,” Qi Yang announced matter-of-factly.
“There’s no food for you,” Mu Yicong said.
“I’ll buy some,” Qi Yang said, doodling a cartoon face on Mu Yicong’s scratch paper.
Mu Yicong showed no sign of agreement or disagreement, lowering his head to continue with his own problems.
Qi Yang hadn’t really come to copy homework; he was just bored. Copying homework all afternoon sounded way too dull.
But listening to the continuous scratching of Mu Yicong’s pen tip on paper, he surprisingly calmed down and quietly finished copying all the math homework.
When the sunlight outside the window shifted from yellow to orange, Mu Yicong put down his pen, rolled his neck, pushed back his chair, and stood up.
“Where are you going?” Qi Yang asked subconsciously.
Mu Yicong glanced down at him. “The bathroom.”
Qi Yang’s gaze slid downward, landing on Mu Yicong, and he sighed leisurely, “You really didn’t go easy on me last time.”
Mu Yicong was already about to leave, but hearing Qi Yang’s comment, he stopped in his tracks.
“What do you want?” he asked Qi Yang.
“I haven’t figured it out yet,” Qi Yang said. “But I’m not letting you off for that hit.”
“You’re sick,” Mu Yicong cursed.
Qi Yang spoke with total confidence, completely forgetting why he had taken that hit in the first place.
Seeing Mu Yicong about to leave, he raised his arm and, incredibly fast and naturally, grabbed at Mu Yicong.
The sensation in his palm sent a strange electric current up from Qi Yang’s spine to the back of his head.
That damn thing had some weight to it.
Mu Yicong never expected Qi Yang to do something like that. He froze first, then frowned, his gaze like a knife piercing straight into Qi Yang’s face.
“Don’t you have to pee? Go ahead,” Qi Yang said, in a fantastic mood. He propped his arm on the back of the chair, rested his chin on his hand, and stared at Mu Yicong.
Using his most provocative look.
But the next second, without any warning, Mu Yicong kicked the leg of the chair sideways, grabbed Qi Yang by the hair, and toppled him, chair and all, to the floor.
It came out of nowhere, and the loud crash was terrifying.
The sudden loss of balance and the impact on his back made Qi Yang squint. But with the chair back as a buffer, it didn’t hurt much.
He coughed and was about to say something, but Mu Yicong smoothly flipped over, landing directly on top of Qi Yang, straddling him. His hand slid from the hair down to Qi Yang’s neck, clamping down.
In that split second, all Qi Yang could think about were scenes from Animal World where the leader of the pack disciplined its subordinates.
Mu Yicong had put him in this completely dominant position.
“Don’t push it,” Mu Yicong said, his voice as dark as the color of his eyes.
“Bring it on. Let’s go another round,” Qi Yang said, lying comfortably on the floor. Even with his neck held, he still whistled, continuing to provoke. “I’ve figured out you can’t take a joke, Mu Yicong.”
Fighting was the last thing Qi Yang was afraid of.
Pushing Mu Yicong out of his usual state didn’t scare him at all. Instead, a wave of excitement surged inside him.
He was about to say something else when he suddenly froze, his gaze dropping to where Mu Yicong was straddling his stomach, their bodies pressed together. “You…”
Before Qi Yang could finish, Mu Yicong abruptly let go, stood up, and strode toward the bathroom.
The door slammed shut with a deafening bang.
Qi Yang scrambled to sit up, the back of his knees still caught on the edge of the chair. He stared blankly in the direction of the bathroom for a long time before softly cursing, “Fuck.”
That day, Qi Yang didn’t get to eat dinner at Mu Yicong’s place. He didn’t wait for Mu Yicong to come out. He packed up and left, leaving his slippers scattered all over.
That night, Qi Yang went into a trance again.
After the Double Holiday ended, until the end of the semester and the start of winter break, Mu Yicong never brought breakfast for Qi Yang again.
In the second semester of sophomore year, they went back to being strangers. The one who was supposed to be on the honor roll stayed there, and the one who started fights every now and then kept doing it.
“Your plan’s on hold?” Liu Dameng was completely confused about Qi Yang and Mu Yicong’s situation. “How come you two are ignoring each other again?”
“What’s there to talk about?” Qi Yang leaned against the railing, looking down, idly sucking on a lollipop, shifting it from one cheek to the other.
Liu Dameng followed his gaze down and immediately spotted the tall Mu Yicong in the crowd.
And Ren Wei, still tagging along like a shadow.
“It’s really weird. How did Mu Yicong end up being such good friends with this Ren Wei?” he muttered to himself. “They don’t seem like they’d get along.”
“Who should he hang out with?” Qi Yang turned to ask Liu Dameng.
“Even hanging out with you would be better than being with Ren Wei,” Liu Dameng thought Qi Yang’s question was pointless. “Not that I like either of them, but this Ren Wei…”
Liu Dameng smacked his lips, not finishing his thought.
But Qi Yang could read his expression in an instant: Ren Wei was too uncool, not straightforward. Even though a person’s character wasn’t tied to their appearance, most high school kids judged by looks.
And as far as they were concerned, Ren Wei’s character wasn’t all that great.
“Who knows what their deal is,” Qi Yang said coldly, looking at the two with a strange contempt.
“What do you mean?” Liu Dameng didn’t get it, joking casually, “What else could they be? Gay?”
“Who’s gay?” Cui Wu came over with a few bottles of drinks to hang out, catching the juicy gossip. “That sissy guy from Class 12?”
Qi Yang didn’t respond to them. He stared at Liu Dameng for a moment, bit on his lollipop, turned around, and walked away.
Gay.
That word wasn’t banned in Qi Yang’s high school years. A lot of girls in class loved watching movies and anime with gay themes. They could even analyze two male leads from a tomb-raiding novel to death.
There were even kids at their school who openly admitted they were gay, like the one Cui Wu mentioned.
Qi Yang had no opinion on that stuff, and he wasn’t against it.
What others did with their sexuality didn’t matter to him, as long as it didn’t affect his life.
But connecting the word “gay” with Mu Yicong’s name felt weird. Especially with that Ren Wei.
Qi Yang recalled the feeling of that bulge he’d felt that day and felt inexplicably annoyed.
But that wasn’t what bothered him the most.
More than whether Mu Yicong was gay, Qi Yang was pissed that he was the one who got pinned down that day, and before he could even say anything, Mu Yicong had the nerve to get all cold with him first.
No more breakfast, no more talking, putting on that dismissive, look-down-his-nose act again.
Why was he so annoying?
After letting these seemingly trivial things pile up in his mind for a while, Qi Yang decided he wasn’t going to put up with Mu Yicong’s crap anymore.
“Oh, so this problem is much easier to solve using your approach.”
After evening self-study, Ren Wei followed Mu Yicong all the way to the entrance of his neighborhood, holding an exercise book and praising him nonstop.
“You’ve really got a good brain. How come I couldn’t figure it out?”
Mu Yicong didn’t say anything. He took out his phone to check the time, then stopped by the roadside.
“Let me treat you to dinner, Yicong,” Ren Wei invited enthusiastically. “You barely ate anything at supper.”
“No need,” Mu Yicong refused plainly. “Any more questions?”
“No, no,” Ren Wei waved.
Mu Yicong hummed in acknowledgment, turned, and walked into the neighborhood.
“Hey, Yicong,” Ren Wei called out again.
Mu Yicong turned his head.
“I noticed you and Qi Yang haven’t been interacting lately,” Ren Wei said, with an expression that suggested he wanted to say something but was holding back, probing for information. “Did you two have another falling out?”
When it came to topics about Qi Yang, Mu Yicong didn’t answer right away like he usually did with Ren Wei’s questions.
“What’s up?” he asked Ren Wei instead.
“Nothing.” Ren Wei leaned in and said in a low voice, “I just think Qi Yang isn’t your type. It’s good you two don’t hang out much.”
As Ren Wei leaned in, Mu Yicong subtly stepped back.
After listening to Ren Wei’s muttering, he slowly blinked, gave Ren Wei a once-over with a faint, unreadable smile, and without a word, walked away.
The stairwell lights in the old neighborhood were broken. The moment you entered through the unit door, you couldn’t see a thing.
Mu Yicong slowly climbed the steps. When he reached the third floor, he stopped at the corner of the stairs.
In the pitch-dark stairwell, someone was sitting on the stairs in front of the door of his rented place.
“You sure have a lot to talk about with that Ren Wei.”
Qi Yang sat with one leg bent and the other stretched out long across the steps, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
