The Student Union’s dinner gatherings always followed the same routine.
First, the Student Council President offered some words of encouragement. Then the heads of the various departments took turns speaking about their commitment to doing their jobs well. Once the formalities had wrapped up, they finally dug into the meal.
Ning Shuang usually enjoyed these lively events, but he wasn’t in the mood today.
Seeing him eat with his head down the entire time, Zhao Wei Liang nudged him with an elbow. “Why aren’t you saying a word? This silence isn’t like you at all.”
Ning Shuang’s cheek bulged out on one side, stuffed full of crispy pork. He looked up at Zhao Wei Liang. “I’m eating. Once I’m done, I’ve got to head home.”
Chatting here with his old friends couldn’t compare to going home and spending some time bonding with Ji Huaizhi.
Well… it was mostly one-sided bonding so far.
“No, don’t head back yet. You’re the bravest one here,” Wan Qi said quickly when he heard Ning Shuang mention leaving after the meal.
The piece of crispy pork dangling from Ning Shuang’s lips plopped into his bowl. He turned to Wan Qi, who sat across from him. “What’s going on?”
“You clearly weren’t listening to us at all,” a girl with a high ponytail two seats to his right grumbled at him.
Zhao Wei Liang slung an arm over Ning Shuang’s shoulder and quickly recapped their earlier conversation for him.
“You remember that post I showed you this morning, right?”
Ning Shuang grunted an acknowledgment and kept shoveling food into his mouth. Zhao Wei Liang went on. “We figured there’s no smoke without fire—rumors don’t just appear out of thin air. So we’re planning to go check it out tonight. You in?”
Ning Shuang had zero interest in adventures like that. This world held no such thing as ghosts or gods; trouble like that always came down to human scheming. Rather than chasing after something so nebulous, he wanted nothing more than to get home as soon as possible.
“I’m not going,” Ning Shuang said, refusing their invitation without a second thought.
“Why not? It’ll be a thrill!” Wan Qi said, his excitement flaring up again.
Ning Shuang blinked in confusion. “Isn’t a whole bunch of people going? It should be fine if I sit this one out.”
Li Shengran, the buzz-cut guy, grinned and teased, “Wan Qi’s scared—that’s why he wants you there. You’ve got all that strong yang energy!”
Called out in front of everyone, Wan Qi flushed. He shot back righteously at once. “That’s not true at all! I’d go even if Ning Shuang bailed!”
Laughter erupted around the table.
That place might have been sealed off for the time being, but no one could really stop anyone determined to check it out. Besides, they were going in a group tonight—if someone was lurking inside, trying to play ghost, they’d catch the culprit in the act.
Ning Shuang mulled it over but still kept his mouth shut about joining.
They didn’t press him since he wasn’t interested. Zhao Wei Liang said, “Don’t crash too early tonight. I’ll send you some pics later.”
Ning Shuang nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
He kept a pretty regular schedule. Unless Lu Yuyang was crashing at his place, Ning Shuang hit the hay at ten-thirty and rose at six-thirty for a morning jog.
About halfway through the meal, his phone buzzed in his pocket. A message popped up on the screen—from Ji Huaizhi!
【Ji Huaizhi: About when will you be home?】
Ning Shuang’s eyes went wide the instant he saw it. He fired back a quick reply: 【Student Union dinner—probably not till after eleven…】
Ji Huaizhi gazed down at Ning Dundun, which was circling eagerly at his feet. He reached out and stroked its head. Golden fur slipped between his fingers, accentuating how pale and slender his knuckles were.
Ning Dundun, your master misses home.
His head remained bowed, long hair cascading forward to veil his entire face in shadow. He looked gloomy and aloof.
After a moment, he picked up the glass from the table and slowly poured its purified water into Ning Dundun’s bowl.
Once the bowl was full, he withdrew his hand and typed a reply: 【Ning Dundun seems unwell. When I got back, it hadn’t drunk much from the bowl.】
The words “Ning Dundun unwell” sent Ning Shuang into a panic. 【What’s wrong? Can you snap a pic of how it’s doing? I’ll head back right now!】
His appetite vanished in an instant. Ning Shuang said his goodbyes to the table and grabbed his jacket before hurrying out.
Ji Huaizhi glanced at Ning Dundun as the reply came in.
Ning Dundun’s ears and tail drooped right away. It flopped obediently onto the floor in a listless heap. Ji Huaizhi snapped a photo and typed slowly: 【It’s been like this since I got back.】
【Ning Shuang: I’m in a cab now. Hang tight—I’ll be there soon to check.】
They were eating at an off-campus restaurant, and the dinner dragged on past nine. Ning Shuang flagged down a cab the moment he stepped outside and headed straight home.
Traffic held him up a bit, so he pulled up around nine-forty.
He stood at the door and peered inside. The house lay shrouded in darkness, while the wind outside moaned like the low wail of some restless spirit. A shiver ran through Ning Shuang. He rubbed his arms and fumbled with the lock before pushing the door open.
He hadn’t even shut it all the way when a massive, fluffy bundle of force barreled straight into him.
“Ning Dundun… aren’t you feeling bad?” Ning Shuang flicked on the entryway light. Dim yellow illumination spilled down from overhead, enveloping him in a warm golden glow. He crouched to stroke Ning Dundun’s head.
Ning Dundun lolled out its tongue, brimming with energy—no sign at all of being under the weather. “Woof!”
Still suspicious, Ning Shuang kicked off his shoes and flicked on the living room’s warm lights. As he stepped out of the entryway, his gaze swept toward the sofa—and a solitary figure there nearly drew a yelp from his throat.
He staggered back half a step, clutching the shoe cabinet for support. His heart hammered like a drum, pounding so fiercely it felt ready to burst free from his chest.
“Ji Huaizhi?” Ning Shuang called out tentatively.
The house felt freezing cold. Summer nights weren’t supposed to chill like this.
The figure on the sofa turned toward him.
A faint purple gleam flickered across those dark eyes, their depths cold and fathomless. He wore simple casual clothes, with long hair spilling over one shoulder and bangs draping across half his brows.
“Sorry—did I startle you?” Ji Huaizhi asked, rising to face him fully after noticing the step back.
Ning Shuang had been startled, but he scared easy anyway, and it wasn’t like Ji Huaizhi had meant to. He shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Just my nerves.”
As he spoke, he flipped on every light in the living room. Bright white light washed over the warm tones, bringing everything into sharp clarity.
Ji Huaizhi eyed the exuberant Ning Dundun at Ning Shuang’s feet and spoke up before any questions could form. “It was sleeping just before.”
“The second you opened the door, it bolted over here.” In other words, even he had no idea why its energy had returned.
Ning Shuang dropped into a squat and grabbed Ning Dundun’s cheeks. “What’s your deal? Actually sick, or faking it?”
Ji Huaizhi watched Ning Shuang, the corners of his lips twitching upward ever so slightly. Then he smoothed his expression and said evenly, “Maybe it just missed you.”
“Really?” Guilt tugged at Ning Shuang. He’d been gone for long stretches lately, and Ning Dundun was such an energetic pup. Who knew—maybe loneliness had gotten to it.
“Sorry, Ning Dundun. I’ll make sure to get home earlier from now on.” Ning Shuang cooed at it before leading it over to Ji Huaizhi’s side.
“Thanks for taking care of Dundun. I don’t usually get back this late. Club dinner tonight—I couldn’t bail early. Lucky you swung by to watch it.” In that moment, Ji Huaizhi’s stock rose even higher in Ning Shuang’s eyes.
Ji Huaizhi shook his head. “No need to thank me.”
Noticing the water bowl still brim-full, Ning Shuang cupped Ning Dundun’s face and lectured it sternly. “Haven’t I told you to finish your water every day? Did you forget what the vet said?”
Ning Dundun let out a few “woofs.” Ning Shuang gave it a gentle swat on the snout, feigning sternness. “Are you even listening to me?”
He paid no mind to the aggrieved look on Ning Dundun’s face.
Ji Huaizhi settled on the far end of the sofa. Seeing Ning Shuang gripping Ning Dundun’s cheeks and scowling in mock anger brought a faint smile to his lips.
Ning Shuang sniffed the air, suddenly aware of a subtle, sweet scent lingering about—like aged wood mingled with herbs. It wasn’t overpowering, but impossible to ignore.
Probably something they’d tracked in from outside. Ning Shuang didn’t dwell on it. Once he’d gotten Ning Dundun to drink half the bowl, he turned to Ji Huaizhi. “Ji Huaizhi, have you had dinner yet?”
By this hour, most people had eaten.
What was Ning Shuang getting at with that question?
Ji Huaizhi pondered for only a second before meeting Ning Shuang’s eyes and lying without missing a beat. “Not yet.”
“Perfect—I didn’t eat much either. I’ll whip up some noodles. Want to join me?” Ning Shuang stood and checked with him.
Ji Huaizhi nodded. “Thanks. Need a hand with anything?”
Ning Shuang headed into the kitchen and snagged the apron off the wall hook, tying it around his waist. “Nah for now. Tomato-and-egg noodles. Any foods you can’t have?”
“None.” Ning Shuang had said no help needed, but Ji Huaizhi followed him into the kitchen anyway.
“Good to know.” No restrictions made it simpler. Ning Shuang glanced over and spotted Ji Huaizhi rinsing tomatoes. He spoke up at once. “I’ve got this—you go rest. You’ve already looked after Ning Dundun for so long.”
He took the tomato from Ji Huaizhi’s hand. Their fingertips brushed together, and Ning Shuang instinctively pulled his hands back from the chill. At that moment, the water flowing from the faucet couldn’t even compare to the icy coolness of Ji Huaizhi’s hand.
Ji Huaizhi withdrew his hand. With just a slight dip of his head, he could see the birthmark on the back of Ning Shuang’s neck. His eyes darkened a shade as he stepped back to give Ning Shuang more space to wash the vegetables.
As Ning Shuang rinsed the vegetables, he asked, “Ji Huaizhi, are you always this cold?”
Last night, he had accidentally touched Ji Huaizhi’s hand, and it had been just as unnaturally icy.
“Not cold. Why do you ask?” Ji Huaizhi seemed oblivious to the fact that his body temperature didn’t match Ning Shuang’s idea of normal for a human.
Ning Shuang pursed his lips and frowned as he glanced back at him. “I just felt like your hand was really cold. I thought you might be chilly.”
“I’ve always been like this.” Ji Huaizhi’s hand at his side curled slightly as he offered a casual explanation.
Some people naturally had lower body temperatures than average. Ning Shuang thought about it for a moment and decided it wasn’t that strange. “Then you must not mind the heat in summer, right?”
Ji Huaizhi considered it. “It’s fine.”
“I’m the opposite,” Ning Shuang said. “I hate the heat. Maybe it’s because back in my hometown, it’s cool all year round, so I’m not used to it here.”
Ji Huaizhi caught the hint of nostalgia in his tone, but Ning Shuang continued, “That said, it’s pretty nice here too. The seasons change so distinctly. Do you know it snows a ton here in winter?”
“Not really.” Ji Huaizhi answered honestly. After all, this was his first time in the city.
Ning Shuang scooped the washed tomatoes out and placed them on the cutting board to slice into chunks.
“That makes sense. You’re just a freshman this year and new to the area. In a few more months, you’ll get to see the big snows.” Ning Shuang recalled last winter’s snowfall, and a note of delight crept into his voice.
Ji Huaizhi stood behind him, his gaze traveling from the exposed nape of Ning Shuang’s neck downward. The apron wasn’t tied very tightly, but it accentuated the line of his waist perfectly. Their heights were similar, and the two tall young men crammed into the narrow kitchen made even the air feel a little charged.
“Okay.” Ji Huaizhi pulled his appraising gaze away and responded.
Before long, two steaming bowls of egg noodles were ready.
They sat down at the dining table. Ning Shuang handed Ji Huaizhi a pair of chopsticks and said, “Give it a try. My cooking’s actually pretty decent.”
Ning Shuang wasn’t just tooting his own horn—he was genuinely confident in his skills. Even Lu Yuyang, that picky young master with his refined tastes, had praised his cooking.
Ji Huaizhi took the chopsticks and murmured his thanks.
The moment he swallowed his first bite, Ning Shuang eagerly asked, “So? How is it? To your taste?”
His eyes shone with anticipation as he watched Ji Huaizhi.
Ji Huaizhi swallowed the noodles and nodded. “Delicious.”
“That’s great. Then on weekends, I can make you some other stuff.” Ning Shuang stirred his bowl, steam rising in a hazy veil as he added, “After all, assuming nothing changes, you’ll be staying here all four years of college, right?”
“Yeah.” Ji Huaizhi nodded in agreement.
Ning Shuang chuckled softly. “Perfect. I’ll let you try more of my cooking sometime.”
With that, he settled into quietly eating his noodles.
After the meal, Ji Huaizhi offered to wash the dishes, but Ning Shuang naturally refused. They bickered a bit, but in the end, Ji Huaizhi washed while Ning Shuang dried and put them away.
The running water rinsed the white porcelain bowls clean, turning the tips of Ji Huaizhi’s fingers a pale pink from the chill. His hands were beautiful—long, even joints, flesh distributed evenly, with clearly defined veins on the back. They were especially striking.
His long hair draped over one shoulder, the ends dampened by stray water droplets. Ning Shuang watched him so intently that he lost himself for a moment. Snapping out of it, he couldn’t help but speak up. “Ji Huaizhi, can I ask you something?”
“What?” Ji Huaizhi had noticed Ning Shuang staring at him the whole time but didn’t call him out on it. Only when Ning Shuang said his name did he look up.
Ning Shuang gestured with his hands, curiosity lighting his face. “Why do you keep your hair so long? Maybe it’s a stereotype, but I always associate long hair with artsy types.”
When they first met, Ning Shuang had even assumed Ji Huaizhi was studying art or music!
Ji Huaizhi tilted his head and glanced down at his long hair. He seemed lost in some memory for a moment before saying, “Someone told me it’d look good on me.”
Ning Shuang blinked, his expression unchanging, but inside, his heart shattered into pieces.
Don’t tell me it’s for someone he likes?
Ning Shuang’s mind raced with possibilities, but he didn’t have the guts to press further. Instead, he went along with it. “It really does look good. Suits you perfectly.”
Ji Huaizhi paused in his washing, a flicker of pleasure coloring his eyes behind his fringe.
Once the dishes were done, they each returned to their rooms. Only then did Ning Shuang have a chance to check his phone.
By now, their so-called exploration team had assembled and was heading to the Abandoned Experimental Building.
Ning Shuang watched the video Zhao Wei Liang had sent: the scene in front of the building, pitch black under the spilling moonlight that draped over the dilapidated structure, giving it an eerie, uncanny vibe. A few figures advanced inside with flashlights.
[Ning Shuang: If you actually see that Guardian God, what wish should I tell you to make?]
No, wait—the message was from Zhao Wei Liang: “Ning Shuang, if I really see that Guardian God, what wish should I make?”
Ning Shuang didn’t believe for a second they’d spot any supernatural nonsense, but he played along. “Wish to strike it rich. Then we can all mooch off you.”
“Hey, no way. Isn’t there a rule about not wishing for money?” Zhao Wei Liang replied.
【Ning Shuang: Then wish to get a date this semester.】
【Zhao Wei Liang: Perfect. Yeah, let’s go with that.】
They sounded serious, like they might actually encounter the Guardian God.
Ning Shuang had zero interest. He turned off his phone and headed to the bathroom for a shower.
As he stripped off his clothes, he suddenly heard a soft cooing from the window. He went over and opened it to find a pure white little bird perched outside. Its feathers were sleek and so white they almost shimmered like liquid light. The bird wasn’t shy at all—even as Ning Shuang leaned in close, it didn’t fly away.
“Injured…?” Ning Shuang gently scooped it into his palm and tilted his head to inspect it closely. He couldn’t spot any wounds. Not hurt, then—maybe hungry?
A faint, ethereal fragrance wafted from it. Ning Shuang leaned in to sniff and said in surprise, “Someone must take care of you. You smell amazing.”
He carefully set the little bird back on the windowsill. “Hang on, I’ll get you some food.”
He grabbed the bathrobe from the back of the door, slipped it on, and went downstairs to pour some millet into a bottle cap.
When he returned to the bathroom, the windowsill was empty. He poked his head out and looked both ways, spotting only that the light was still on in Ji Huaizhi’s room to the right, with his window wide open.
After a moment’s thought, Ning Shuang went out and knocked on Ji Huaizhi’s door.
About half a minute later, Ji Huaizhi opened it.
“Ji Huaizhi,” Ning Shuang said. “Did a little bird fly into your room?”
Only after he spoke did Ning Shuang notice that Ji Huaizhi’s face looked a bit off, his ear tips tinged with pale pink. Was it hot in there right now?
