Chapter 43

After finishing the subjective portion of the Bar Exam, Jiang Mian’s schedule didn’t lighten up. He still had to prepare for next summer’s civil service exam.

However, for Jiang Mian, time wasn’t actually that tight.

After all, over all these years, he was accustomed to spending twenty-four hours a day—excluding sleep—either studying or on the way to study.

Only now, things were a little different from before.

Because Jiang Mian would spare some time for his pursuer.

When Chen Gu messaged him and he happened to see it, he would chat with Chen Gu for a while.

Even if it was cross-timezone chatting, Jiang Mian would definitely reply.

And when Chen Gu came to school to accompany him in soaking up the atmosphere at the Library, Jiang Mian no longer refused.

Precisely because of this, the chatter on the Forum gradually dwindled.

Because… Jiang Mian actually wouldn’t go to the Library with Chen Yishen.

In fact, Jiang Mian didn’t like going to the Library with anyone he knew. He knew there’d inevitably be some chatting, and he found it rather distracting.

Yet he didn’t think the occasional question from Chen Gu distracted him at all.

Jiang Mian even felt these days were quite nice.

He liked peaceful, simple times. Although sometimes, with Chen Gu’s mouth… well, maybe he could actually “desensitize” himself to this too. Hearing it often enough, he gradually got used to it.

He even, when Chen Gu was having a relapse, holding him, sighing as if delirious, saying I really want to kiss you, managed to keep a straight face and pretend he hadn’t heard.

Time always passed quickly. At the end of October, a small typhoon hit South Boundary, bringing ten straight days of rain. Chen Gu reminded Jiang Mian practically several times a day to bring an umbrella. He also confirmed Jiang Mian had spare allergy medication before feeling reassured.

The first two times Jiang Mian was reminded, he didn’t react. It wasn’t until the rain poured down and he was in his dorm that Chen Gu messaged him, asking if he’d gone out. Jiang Mian expressed confusion, and Chen Gu also expressed confusion.

[Sir Jiang: You’re allergic to rainwater, right?]

Seeing this message, Jiang Mian paused.

He was indeed allergic to rain, but he hadn’t expected Chen Gu to still remember.

The heart lake that had seemed to settle was rippled once more. Jiang Mian looked out the window at the pouring rain and felt, for the first time, that rainy days weren’t so annoying after all.

[Jiang Mian: Didn’t go out.]

[Jiang Mian: Although it’s a small typhoon, South Boundary is surrounded by water. Flooding is still possible. You try not to go out either.]

Chen Gu said okay.

After the typhoon passed, the rain stopped and the sky cleared, revealing a rainbow.

Jiang Mian saw it too, but by the time he did, the rainbow in the sky was already very faint. Many people had posted rainbows on their DingDong Moments.

Jiang Mian had no artistic cells. He randomly clicked on a complete photo, glanced at it, and felt no particular feeling.

Only when Chen Gu sent him the rainbow photo he had taken did Jiang Mian once again feel how breathtakingly soul-stirring the beauty of nature could be.

Chen Gu had chased the rainbow to its nearest point and waited for the dusk.

The afterglow of the setting sun blended with the already fading rainbow, complemented by the golden coastline. It didn’t look like a photo anymore but more like a painting imagined by an artist.

Jiang Mian saved it again, simultaneously marveling at Chen Gu’s exceptionally high aesthetic sense.

In mid-November, South Boundary’s temperature reached a very suitable number for going out. But the weather was so damp that if Jiang Mian and Chen Yishen hadn’t bought a dryer together earlier, they’d truly have headaches over clothes that wouldn’t dry.

Jiang Mian also switched to long sleeves. His physique wasn’t as good as those sporty classmates. Occasionally, with the morning-to-evening temperature differences, he’d even put on a thicker Jacket.

With such fine weather, their class organized a mountain climbing winter outing, funded by the class budget, scheduled for November 20th.

Jiang Mian, who had always disliked these things, fell silent.

When Jiang Mian told Chen Gu he’d be going mountain climbing next week, it happened to be a public holiday afternoon. He and Chen Gu were sitting in a cart noodle shop on the food street next to the school.

This shop was very unique. The shopfront wasn’t large, only making cart noodles. And unlike other places selling curry fish balls and such, theirs was pork cutlet with pan-fried egg cart noodles.

Jiang Mian had eaten here a few times. He really liked it.

“All your classmates are going?”

“Mm.”

Chen Gu casually stirred the noodles in his bowl. “How long?”

Jiang Mian swallowed the egg in his mouth. “Three days, two nights. Besides climbing, there are some other activities.”

“Going towards the mainland side?”

“Mm, just the city across the bay. Two hours at the fastest.”

Chen Gu lightly rubbed the end of his chopsticks. “How are you guys staying?”

Jiang Mian told the truth. “Class-organized trips usually have three to a room. Hotels over there aren’t cheap; we generally go to partner hostels.”

He added: “Same as before.”

The four words Jiang Mian added directly made Chen Gu stop.

He gave a slight smile, his voice soft. “Then who are you rooming with this time?”

Jiang Mian thought carefully. “Chen Yishen, and then Meng Hao.”

Chen Gu had heard this name before. Not just because that summer basketball game—where he’d filled in for this person’s spot—but also because, over this period of frequently visiting South Boundary University and following Jiang Mian, he’d gotten to know the guy.

Jiang Mian might not have noticed, but Chen Gu could tell.

The way Meng Hao looked at him was that of a love rival. He had designs on Jiang Mian.

Chen Gu sneered inwardly, but outwardly still acted perfectly.

Except Jiang Mian always seemed to sense a sliver of his mood.

Jiang Mian looked at him, slightly puzzled. “You in a bad mood?”

“Mm.” Chen Gu didn’t even pause. He lazily tugged the corner of his lip, joking half-truthfully: “Three whole days. Sir Jiang is going to abandon me alone in South Boundary to go play with other kids for three days. I’m so sad.”

Jiang Mian: “…”

Seeing him stay silent, Chen Gu continued his casual, drawn-out lament: “Alright, I’m just too fragile. I shouldn’t be so willful. Our Sir Jiang has his own life, his own friend circle. I’m just an insignificant pursuer…”

“Chen Gu.” Jiang Mian interrupted him. “Eat.”

Chen Gu looked at him pitifully, but Jiang Mian had already timely evaded his attack, lowering his eyes and seriously eating his noodles.

Chen Gu glanced at his slightly red ear tip, his mood marginally improving.

But it wasn’t enough.

Chen Gu picked up some noodles absently, eating a couple of bites. Ever since Jiang Mian said he’d be sleeping in a room with classmates, he hadn’t really been able to taste this bowl of noodles.

So annoying.

Why did he have to keep wearing this human skin?

Directly abducting Jiang Mian to his place and locking him up right now would save so much trouble.

Chen Gu’s hand propped on the table, his eyelashes lowered to hide the look in his eyes. Yet his gaze remained locked onto Jiang Mian, like invisible chains wrapped around Jiang Mian’s neck, forbidding him from escaping to places Chen Gu didn’t know.

“Stop looking at me.” Jiang Mian pressed his lips slightly and lifted his eyes to meet Chen Gu’s gaze. Clearly sensing the danger, he only reminded him: “The noodles will get mushy.”

Chen Gu curled his lip. “Got it.”

He thought he’d better keep wearing it.

He liked sitting with Jiang Mian like this, casually chatting about things, peacefully eating a meal.

——

Subjective exam scores came out slower than the objective ones. They’d taken it earlier this year compared to previous years, but score release was around the same time as always, in January.

As they put it, there was a sword hanging over their heads until January.

But Jiang Mian was indifferent. He’d always been confident in his scores.

And even if he didn’t pass, he could face it calmly. After all, he was still young; he could just fight again.

Because the class was organizing a trip, they spontaneously formed small groups to go shopping for supplies.

Jiang Mian was still torn about whether to go at all, mainly because he truly disliked the mountain climbing part.

If it were like previous years—soaking in hot springs or visiting some little town—he wouldn’t be so conflicted.

And coincidentally, on the day they were shopping, Chen Gu said he wasn’t feeling well. So Jiang Mian declined his classmates’ arrangements and went to Chen Gu’s place, promptly stopping Chen Gu from harming himself.

By now, Jiang Mian was already quite calm about being encircled in Chen Gu’s arms.

After all, this time wasn’t exactly like that previous time either. He wasn’t sitting on Chen Gu’s lap, but sitting between his legs, back leaning against Chen Gu’s chest, head resting against it too.

Still, Jiang Mian didn’t dare move randomly. He looked at Chen Gu’s solid arms and thighs—clearly more than a full size larger than his own—his thoughts drifting somewhat.

Come to think of it… he still owed Chen Gu that run.

Chen Gu wrapped his arms around Jiang Mian, burying his face in Jiang Mian’s hair, inhaling the faint scent of shampoo, the corner of his mouth hooked up.

He knew Jiang Mian was supposed to go shopping with classmates today. So he tried it, and it worked.

Then…

Chen Gu’s eyes gradually darkened.

——

The day before Jiang Mian and the others were set to leave for the trip.

Because he always woke up earlier than Chen Gu, Jiang Mian consistently sent a “Morning” message to Chen Gu first.

Generally, Chen Gu would reply around nine to ten o’clock, never past eleven.

But today, even after Jiang Mian finished his early morning class, ate at the cafeteria, and returned to his dorm, Chen Gu still hadn’t replied.

Jiang Mian couldn’t help frowning.

Initially, he thought Chen Gu had probably stayed up all night painting again, like he did at the end of last month.

He’d said his inspiration struck and he couldn’t stop, so he stayed up the whole night. That day, Jiang Mian sent “Morning” at six AM, and Chen Gu also replied “Morning,” then said he was going to sleep.

However, by the afternoon, when Chen Yishen was talking with Jiang Mian about packing for tomorrow, Jiang Mian still hadn’t received a reply from Chen Gu.

Jiang Mian pressed his lips together. “Hold on, I’m going out to make a call.”

Chen Yishen: “Oh, okay.”

Jiang Mian went into the hallway and dialed the first time. Chen Gu didn’t pick up. So he dialed a second time.

By the third call, as the ringtone was about to end, he still hadn’t heard an answer. Jiang Mian’s brows furrowed tightly.

Just as the third call was on its very last ring, Chen Gu answered.

“Hello?”

Jiang Mian paused.

The voice on the other end was thick with nasal congestion, hoarse, and carried a weak, feeble tone. No matter how you heard it, something was wrong.

“You have a cold?”

“Jiang Mian?”

Jiang Mian: “?”

Couldn’t even recognize his voice?

“Sorry.” Chen Gu coughed twice on the phone. “I caught a cold yesterday, took some medicine. The effects are pretty strong. I only woke up because you called.”

His voice still sounded extremely exhausted. “I’m fine.”

This was “fine”?

Jiang Mian’s brow creased deeply. “Did you take your temperature?”

Chen Gu’s voice was weak. “Just a common cold.”

After saying this, Chen Gu clearly coughed twice more on the phone. The subsequent coughs were muffled. Jiang Mian guessed Chen Gu had covered the receiver or his own mouth to hide it from him.

Jiang Mian pressed his lips. “I don’t have class. I’m coming to see you. Have you eaten anything?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll bring you porridge.”

Jiang Mian checked the time. “Pour yourself a cup of hot water first and drink some, then keep sleeping. I’ll call you when I arrive.”

Chen Gu whimpered. “No energy.”

Jiang Mian sighed. “Then wait for me. Not talking anymore, heading over now.”

With that, Jiang Mian hung up.

Chen Gu listened to the dial tone in his hand, leaning against the sofa, casually spinning the ear thermometer in his hand, testing it once more.

He looked at the display reading “40.8”, showing no emotional fluctuation as he finished the last bite of his ice cream.

It was a fair distance from Jiang Mian’s school to his place. He still had time to clean up the ice cream container.

And deliberately leave the various brands of cold medicine packets on the table…

He hoped this fever would last a while longer.

If not, he’d activate Plan B.

Chen Gu’s eyelids drooped. Even though the high fever was indeed torturing him, making his head heavy and thoughts very slow and dull, he was still crystal clear on what he was scheming.