Liang Zhixia instinctively ducked his head and saw that his shorts had ridden up so high they were about to expose half his ass.
The shorts were especially loose, with soft, comfortable fabric. He’d always worn them as pajamas, never imagining he’d flip them up like this in front of his roommate.
He quietly tugged them back into place and covered himself properly with the blanket. Clearing his throat twice to cover his embarrassment, he said, “They must’ve bunched up while I was sleeping. I’ll be more careful next time.”
As for the “dirty stuff” his roommate had mentioned, he pursed his lips and shot back an innocent look. “That’s your delivery package.”
Lu Quan scowled and turned to yank open a drawer. He pulled out a pair of gloves and slipped them on slowly, all under Liang Zhixia’s curious stare.
Only then did those hands reach for the package on the desk and begin to unpack it.
Liang Zhixia: ?
He didn’t get it at all. Tilting his head, he asked curiously, “Is there poison on the delivery box or something?”
Why else wear gloves?
Lu Quan’s brow lowered ominously, his gaze icy cold as he tossed out two words like scraps from a table: “Very dirty.”
Who would’ve thought that was the reason?
The package was filthy, sure—but most people opened it first and washed their hands after.
As he watched Lu Quan unpack it, Liang Zhixia suddenly had the urge to hire him as a live model.
He could even pay.
The guy’s build was tall and lean. Right now, his thick lashes were lowered, sunlight dusting his brow with a noble, distant aloofness.
His fingers were long, trapped tightly in the gloves, which only made them look even more elegant—perfect for all sorts of other tasks.
Those clearly defined knuckles gripped the knife handle and sliced smoothly along the seal—
“What are you staring at?”
The cold, irritated voice cut in abruptly. Liang Zhixia snapped back to reality and jerked his gaze away, but not before locking eyes with those pitch-black depths.
Lu Quan tossed the knife aside, extracted the contents from the box, and wiped down the entire desk with wet wipes. Finally, he looked up at his new roommate.
“I don’t like people prying into my privacy.”
This was the third time.
He frowned in distaste, fingertips drumming the desk. Maybe it was time to draw up some dorm regulations.
After the counselor had told him a freshman was being assigned to his room, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Better to just keep paying double dorm fees.
Caught in the act—and for that reason—Liang Zhixia’s face burned red. He mumbled softly, “Sorry.”
Lu Quan peeled off the gloves, washed his hands over and over, snatched up his phone, and stormed out.
Liang Zhixia let out a massive breath, collapsing back onto the bed. He’d been wrong about this—his new roommate was impossible to deal with. Scary as hell.
It wasn’t even his fault, but the guy had to pin it on him anyway.
He hated it.
The more he dwelled on it, the more wronged he felt. He grabbed his phone, opened the chat with the black avatar, and unleashed a torrent of messages in a fit of venting.
[Baby, I’ll always be watching you, forever…]
[Baby, can I lock you away? In a place only I know about.]
[Baby, I like you so much. I can’t live without you. I’d die if you left!]
[Baby, don’t talk to anyone else, or I won’t be able to hold back.]
[Baby, why aren’t you replying? Can you answer me soon?]
Once the chaotic barrage was sent, he felt worlds better.
He flicked out of WeChat on habit, but the very next second, the pinned black avatar lit up with a reply.
Just a single capital L, radiating icy detachment.
[L: Who pissed you off?]
To his surprise, the other person replied instantly this time.
He flopped onto the bed, kicked off the blanket to reveal slender white ankles, his lean instep arching slightly in a smooth, graceful line.
Propping his chin on his palms, he sent over a lazy voice message.
“A really, really annoying person. Just like you.”
[L: Someone you ran into outside?]
Liang Zhixia stared at the message, unsure how to respond. He didn’t like spilling personal drama to near-strangers—they’d only been chat buddies for half a month.
The question felt like it crossed a line.
But he’d started the topic, after all. His light tea-colored eyes sparkled with mischief as a sly grin spread across his face.
“I overheard this guy on the road being so rude to his girlfriend. Super harsh, telling her not to peek at his private stuff.”
“Totally out of line! You wouldn’t do that, right Baby?”
“Baby, I like you so, so much, so don’t be like that jerk. I just wanna get to know you better.”
“If I catch you messing up, I’ll have to punish you.”
[L: I wouldn’t.]
Liang Zhixia pouted. As if he’d buy that.
Total scumbag playbook.
Not a word of it trustworthy.
He fired off a nodding kitten emoji to wrap up the chat.
CatCat’s open for business no more today. Do not disturb.
Still sprawled on the bed, he tapped into a group chat at random—and there was “Lu Quan”‘s name.
His interest piqued; he scrolled eagerly upward, hoping others felt the same way he did about how obnoxious Lu Quan was.
By the time he’d read through it all, his enthusiasm deflated.
Nothing like he’d pictured. Not a single soul called Lu Quan annoying!
Everyone was gushing: handsome, genius IQ, wealthy family, polite gentleman. Worst of all, someone claimed he had a great temper—and linked proof.
He clicked it and instantly regretted it. A forum thread titled: Lu Quan! Nuwa’s Masterpiece!
The theme was blunt as a hammer.
Every comment sang his praises. That’s when Liang Zhixia learned Lu Quan was a junior in the School of Finance, a star student.
He’d dominated the campus forums and confession boards since freshman year, photos everywhere. Top scorer on entrance exams, that year’s gaokao champion.
Recalling that face from earlier, yeah—it had stunned him. Handsome enough to piss off gods and men. But it didn’t excuse the shitty attitude.
So he snuck in a comment at the very bottom.
CatCat Doesn’t Get It: You’ve all been fooled by Lu Quan. He has an awful temper!
The thread had thousands of replies already—his would never get spotted!
Feeling smug after trash-talking behind his back, he quit the forum with a grin and pulled up his music.
He fished the tablet from his bag. A dorm wasn’t like home—too many eyes around. He didn’t want his roommate knowing he drew BL manga.
For now at school, the tablet would have to do.
His long lashes drooped as his slender fingers clutched the stylus, inspiration flowing onto the blank canvas.
Little did he know, his comment had bumped the thread back to the top.
8234: Who’s this clown?
8235: Whoa! Ballsy!
8236: Another ugly loser?
8237: Just a jumping clown~
8238: Freshman season always brings these clowns (nom nom nom)
“Break time’s up! Break time’s up!”
Liang Zhixia rubbed his stinging eyes and silenced the incessantly blaring alarm.
Three hours had slipped by unnoticed.
His back and waist throbbed, but gazing at the fresh artwork, he curved his lips in satisfaction. He stretched lazily, then scooped up his phone—which he’d muted earlier.
The class group chat had the counselor instructing everyone to gather in the classroom at five.
It was already half past four. He scrambled to pack his things, grabbed his phone and the campus map, and dashed out.
Smarter this time—he held the map right in his hand. But A University was even bigger than he’d imagined, carved up into all sorts of zones.
He still ended up hopelessly lost.
Brand new to campus, no friends yet—not even someone to ask for directions.
He reflexively wanted to vent, but Zhuzi was swamped with the school start. Nope.
His gaze drifted down to the black avatar. Nah, the other guy would just call him an idiot.
Suddenly, voices nearby made his tea-colored eyes light up. Saved!
He rounded the corner—and slammed right into someone coming the other way.
So solid.
His nose throbbed with pain. His pain tolerance was always low, and now his eyes watered uncontrollably.
Rubbing his nose, his long lashes fluttered like butterfly wings. He looked up. “Hi, I was hoping to ask—”
The moment he saw who it was, he blinked rapidly, breath hitching. He struck first.
“You bumped into me!”
The guy tilted his chin up a touch, his expression fired up like a triumphant cat king.
Lu Quan patted the spot they’d collided expressionlessly, a faint frown creasing his brow as he took a step back.
Liang Zhixia: !!!
What was he, some raging flood beast? Or did he carry a plague?
Lu Quan was the worst.
