Chapter 12

Hearing the word “good” directly from Zhou Jinsheng’s mouth, even though he knew Zhou Jinsheng was still scrutinizing the authenticity of his displayed behavior.

Shen Yu still felt this was a qualitative leap.

At least, on the surface, he now had a very reasonable opportunity to get close to Zhou Jinsheng—

Especially after the incident at the Archery Dojo, where he had a falling out with Cheng Yitan—

The school was a microcosm of society, and the class was one corner of its dark side. Personal relationships mostly expanded outward from one’s safe territory first, like a spiderweb spreading to farther reaches.

Shen Yu’s seat had terrible feng shui, backed by Zhou Jinsheng, the living King of Hell. Even those who wanted to talk to Shen Yu hesitated and backed off.

Not to mention the rumors that suddenly sprang up on the School Forum, saying Shen Yu had offended Zhou Jinsheng.

Shen Yu was ultimately an outsider. The class cliques had long solidified. Before, he had only been slightly closer to Cheng Yitan, who always kept to himself.

Beyond that, he only got along with the scatterbrained Chen Jinyang and Chen Miaomiao, but the siblings weren’t in his class. Distant water couldn’t quench immediate thirst.

Now that his relationship with Cheng Yitan had suddenly frozen over, the only one left in front of Shen Yu was Zhou Jinsheng.

Time flew by, and half a month passed in the blink of an eye.

With Zhou Jinsheng’s tacit approval, their relationship advanced by leaps and bounds. At least, Shen Yu felt he and Zhou Jinsheng had established a solid revolutionary friendship.

This self-injury ploy was worth it!

Shen Yu: 【Happy again, 007.】

007 thought for a moment and imitated him: 【Happy again, Shen Yu.】

It had rained not long ago.

The rainwater washed the world clean, and Jingyang basked in the clear sunlight after the rain.

The wind rustled the trees. Down below, students in school uniforms walked by in groups of three or five under the trees, chatting and laughing. Their laughter and the wind carried into the bright classroom.

The third morning class had just ended. Noticing Shen Yu’s predatory gaze, Zhou Jinsheng, who had been openly playing on his phone with his head down, paused. His sharp, flamboyant brows lifted slightly.

Fleeting memories from recent days overlapped in an instant.

One moment, he sat by the window when two or three pebbles suddenly hit the window glass from below.

Zhou Jinsheng, standing by the window, looked down.

Shen Yu, fresh from PE class and holding a basketball, stood under the tree. He tilted up his sweaty face and called out with a grin: “Zhou Jinsheng, come down and play basketball.”

Another moment, in the morning fog of milling students, with treetops and branches swaying in the wind.

Shen Yu suddenly popped up in front of him, holding a bag of breakfast. His eyes curved, his smile bright.

“Zhou Jinsheng, skipped breakfast again? I bought extra.”

“Zhou Jinsheng, there’s a match at the Archery Club today. I saved you a ticket. Remember to come.”

“Zhou Jinsheng, what’s this book? Lend it to me!”

Before the book was flipped through a few pages, the guy snapped it shut with a “pa-da” and, wrinkling his nose under the sunlight, complained without restraint: “What kind of book is this? Not reading it. Come practice ball with your bro. I joined the Tennis Club—pretty cool, right!”

After spending time together, Zhou Jinsheng discovered that, beyond the pleasing face, Shen Yu’s personality surprisingly suited his taste.

It was as if they had a natural rapport, or like they had known each other for many years before this.

Whatever he said, Shen Yu could follow along, jumping from wild tangents to profound depths of soul and thought.

Their hobbies matched, their interests aligned, even their worldviews were much the same.

Very… wondrous.

Like a firebrand in his veins, like a bird returning to the flock, the final puzzle piece, the last stroke on a canvas.

Finally, he felt full and complete.

In the blooming summer flowers of Jingyang in August and September, amid the lush green shade, Shen Yu probed, explored, and entered Zhou Jinsheng’s life. The barriers receded like the tide, vanishing into the damp sand.

“Zhou Jinsheng, we’re study buddies now. Be sure to lend your homework-averse partner your art appreciation assignment.”

“Zhou Jinsheng, let’s go rock climbing this Saturday. I found this super niche club.”

“Zhou Jinsheng…”

“Zhou Jinsheng—”

He called for ages, but Zhou Jinsheng didn’t react.

Shen Yu frowned and waved his hand in front of him back and forth, trying to pull back the guy’s wandering attention.

At some point, Shen Yu had usurped one of Zhou Jinsheng’s desks right under everyone’s jaw-dropping stares, officially becoming Zhou Jinsheng’s deskmate.

Young Master Zhou Da snapped out of his memories. His distinct-knuckled fingers pushed aside the pencil case and textbooks Shen Yu had claimed on his desk, then magnanimously shot Shen Yu a look: “Something else?”

“Something.” Shen Yu said: “Let’s go see a movie tonight. Zerg premiere.”

“No.”

Zhou Jinsheng leaned back in his chair, rejecting him outright.

Shen Yu wailed: “Didn’t you say you wanted to see it a while ago? Why not now?”

“Don’t want to now.” Zhou Jinsheng looked up from his phone at Shen Yu.

Shen Yu propped his chin, tilted his head, and stared unblinking. His eyes were damp, like petals long soaked in water.

Floating on the surface, they were ordinary and tacky. Submerged, utterly beautiful.

His fingers lightly rubbed the phone’s edge, feeling the metal’s rough chill. Seeing Shen Yu about to whine again, Zhou Jinsheng raised his tone slightly, offering a lifeline: “Unless—”

“Unless what?” Shen Yu jumped in immediately, as if he’d agree to any outrageous demand.

Zhou Jinsheng watched him with interest, a faint smile swirling in his calm eyes. His tone was infuriating: “Unless you beg me.”

Shen Yu: “…”

After getting familiar, Shen Yu really wanted to roll his eyes at Zhou Jinsheng’s occasional pettiness, but he held back in the end.

This occasional mischief was better than the silent lethality eight years later.

With that thought, Shen Yu rummaged in his desk drawer, slapped two movie tickets on Zhou Jinsheng’s desk, and shoved his own textbooks forward, reclaiming the neat desk space.

Zhou Jinsheng looked down.

Shen Yu said: “You know Zerg premiere tickets are impossible to get, worth a fortune. I sacrificed my looks and bribed them off Chen Miaomiao. If you don’t go—I’ll tie you up and drag you there.”

As he spoke, Shen Yu recalled Chen Miaomiao’s antics, and his face scrunched up like a bun.

Zhou Jinsheng set down his phone, picked up the two thin tickets, and smiled: “So you prepared to act first and report later?”

Zerg was the final installment in Director Huai Shi’s sci-fi series.

He started with youth pain-and-love literary films but stayed lukewarm until he couldn’t afford Shang Capital City’s high rent. He gritted his teeth, half-assed a low-budget sci-fi suspense flick for quick cash to keep chasing his passion. Unexpectedly, it blew up.

Good that it did.

The director, staying true to his heart, gleefully planned to return to the literary scene. But audiences rejected it, hurling personal attacks and threats, forcing him back to the series one film after another.

Threatened so long, the director finally erupted in silence.

He would film youthful boys and girls! Dripping, sticky love! Melodramatic entanglements!

So he decided to bow out smiling after this final series film, sneaking back to literary work.

Thus, Zerg drew massive attention, with premiere tickets scalped to sky-high prices.

But for Zhou Jinsheng, a premiere ticket was just a phone call away.

Shen Yu fumed: “What do you mean act first and report later? You said you wanted to see it! This is me going all out for a friend!”

“Fine, fine, going all out. Happy?” Zhou Jinsheng was speechless yet helpless. He handed the tickets back: “What time?”

Shen Yu: “Six-thirty PM.”

“Fine.”

Zhou Jinsheng looked up to see Cheng Yitan, thermos in hand after fetching water, walking toward them.

The teen kept his head low, his tall, slender frame hunched. His bangs, once just covering his eyes, now shrouded half his face in long, dark strands. His vibe was less quiet and shy, more gloomy and dark.

Zhou Jinsheng had later traced the School Forum rumors’ origins.

The IPs of the big accounts steering the rumors all traced back to this unassuming boy.

Truly like mistletoe, thriving only in rotten corners.

Noticing Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze, Cheng Yitan’s hunched shoulders jolted. He nearly dropped the cup.

Zhou Jinsheng narrowed his long eyes, without even disgust, and soon looked away.

Jingyang’s plain class bell echoed overhead.

Cheng Yitan silently returned to his seat, shoulders and neck tense. He was thin; the uniform couldn’t hide his outlines. From behind, he was just a graceful curve.

Cheng Yitan quietly opened his book and picked up his pen.

The voices behind him drilled into his ears, one after another. Head down, his hair-veiled eyes were coldly gloomy like a snake’s.

It should have been… it should have been his.

That warm smile, those bright eyes free of shadows, that complete trust and acceptance… they should have been his.

His.

His.

His alone—

A harsh “scraaape.”

The ballpoint pen tip scraped violently across the paper, leaving a long streak.

Perhaps because it was the series finale, Zerg departed from grand themes for a delicate love story.

Cataclysm struck; mechanical soldiers were developed. Composed of human hearts, machine bodies, and fuel blood, they shuttled through gunfire time and again.

Zerg was one ordinary mech soldier among many. What set it apart: it often chatted via infinite terminal with a little boy on the ground.

Mostly, the boy chattered; it was his loyal listener.

But war was too frequent. It had to follow the troops skyward, fighting bloody battles, slaying giant beasts spilling from rifts.

Several times, its fuel lines were severed, fuel raining down like water, sparks crackling.

This time, a beast’s tentacle smashed it to the ground, parts scattering. No matter—at least it could chat with the boy.

Rain pelted the smoke-filled earth. Zerg itself was a ruin. Clumsily, it activated the terminal.

The boy rolled his eyes in a message: Don’t reply if you don’t want to. Am I that annoying? I have other friends. Blocked.

Sunlight pierced the clouds. The final frame froze on the bright post-rain ruins. Rays passed the belated rescue team, layer upon layer, over decayed buildings.

Lights out as night neared.

Exiting the theater, faces varied: some called it a trash plot with director’s baggage; others praised the technique and emotional build, worth the ticket; some puzzled, later searching interpretations online.

Vast night blanketed Shang Capital City. Far off, highways hid behind buildings, neon weaving like veins.

Night deepened; crowds bustled.

The two left the cinema, walking under streetlights.

Shen Yu turned his head.

Light and shadow layered past; in half-lit particles, Zhou Jinsheng’s profile was sharp, expression shifting.

Shen Yu asked: “Zhou Jinsheng, what’d you think of the movie?”

Zhou Jinsheng, hands in pockets, lazily lifted his lids: “Plot average, but visuals and scenes were good. Emotions rendered well. Box office might not top the previous ones, but solid. Fans’ll love it.”

Shen Yu: “…”

Zhou Jinsheng glanced at him: “What?”

Shen Yu: “Who’re you discussing box office with? Don’t you think I’m a lot like Zerg?”

Zhou Jinsheng stopped, eyeing Shen Yu up and down. His expression grew weirder: “You?”

Shen Yu nodded.

Zhou Jinsheng: “……Where does it look like?”

Facing Zhou Jinsheng’s incredulous gaze, Shen Yu explained pitifully, “I’m not talking about appearance or anything like that. Look, the Zerg only has one friend, and in class, I only have you as a friend.”

“Just based on that, don’t I resemble it a lot?”

Zhou Jinsheng raised an eyebrow and said lazily, “Not necessarily a friend.”

Shen Yu froze. “What do you mean?”

“Patter patter—”

Before Zhou Jinsheng could explain, raindrops fell like beads from a broken string, pouring down from the dark clouds overhead.

The rain came without warning, fast and fierce. It instantly drenched the neon-lit city that never slept.

“Hey, why’s it suddenly raining so hard? It was sunny all day.”

“I’m telling you, the weather forecast hasn’t been right these past few days.”

Pedestrians grumbled as they hurried to find shelter.

The rain poured down, soaking their clothes halfway through in an instant. Cold wind carried a piercing chill that seeped right into the thin fabric.

Shen Yu’s eyes quickly locked onto a flower shop across the street.

He shielded the rain with one hand while pulling Zhou Jinsheng along with the other as they ran. “Let’s go to the flower shop across the street and wait out the rain.”

The wind, the rain, and the air all carried a chill, but the warmth of human body heat and breath was fervent.

The two dashed together to the shop entrance across the street to take shelter. Outside the flower shop stood two flower racks arranged in a V-shape facing outward, filled with pots of flowers. Artificially cultivated irises, daffodils, butterfly orchids… all sorts of fresh blooms stretched their petals, releasing a rich and alluring fragrance. A string of small light bulbs hung above the shop, glowing like signs of life in the quiet night.

Wind chimes tinkled. The shop owner, dressed in a green qipao, unfurled the awning overhead to shield the room full of flowers from the wind and rain.

Her beautiful eyes sparkled. Seeing Shen Yu and Zhou Jinsheng miserably huddling outside the shop, she kindly brought over two small stools.

Shen Yu, still holding Zhou Jinsheng’s hand, smiled and thanked the owner.

The owner’s curious gaze fluttered like a light butterfly, alighting gently on their clasped hands before fluttering away. She smiled and turned back into the flower shop.

Zhou Jinsheng realized it belatedly.

A strange heat spread from their touching skin, propagating like a virus.

In the end, Shen Yu let go of his hand first.

His eyes darkened.