After the funeral ended, Zhang Hong walked them to the car.
Fu Congxiao stopped and looked at her, assuming she had some warning or final instructions to give.
But Zhang Hong said nothing. She simply motioned for the servant to hand over a gift box, which contained a scarf, gloves, and a new trench coat.
“Young Master, autumn will bring the cold. Please take good care of yourself out there,” the servant said. “The old lady has been feeling low these past few days and is still recuperating, so she won’t come out to see you off.”
“Understood,” Fu Congxiao replied. He turned to Zhang Hong. “Thank you.”
Zhang Hong gave a slight nod.
She was an utterly ordinary woman.
Her origins, her background—even her name—all blended seamlessly into the crowd.
Yet a woman like her had married into a powerful family without a word, let her husband drink and carouse himself to death, and in the end risen to become a core executive in the conglomerate.
She had pulled off a grand, open scheme spanning more than twenty years, as casually as if she were just stepping out to buy vegetables.
Back at school, the lingering air of sorrow soon faded away.
In those days, Shang Xi’s circle of friends grew larger and larger—especially after the Sports Meet, when his contacts list expanded exponentially.
“It’s him! It’s him! The Wind Oil Essence War God!”
“He’s leveled up already—now he’s the Red Bull God! Last time I heard him sing, I somehow stayed awake through the whole exam!”
“Take a good look at yourself! Why do you conk out every time during English?!”
Shang Xi’s QQ space was a chaotic mess of reposts, meme images, and viral jokes flying every which way. His friends were all laughing their heads off in the comments and likes.
Before long, invitations started pouring in for hangouts.
“Brother Xi! Comic con this weekend?”
“This Friday—a ton of second-years are hitting karaoke and Werewolf Kill. You in~?”
“Red Bull baby—we’ve got a test tomorrow night. Can you bless us ahead of time? Dinner’s on us tonight!!”
Shang Xi enjoyed making friends, but he always made a point of bringing Senior Brother along.
Fu Congxiao usually preferred peace and quiet, and Shang Xi rarely bothered him. But these were unusual times; it was best to distract the mind and chase some mindless fun.
Fu Congxiao didn’t object. He joined without hesitation.
The moment they stepped into the private room, Shang Xi waved to the group. “Hey! I brought my senior brother too!”
Everyone froze for a second, then the energy ramped up even higher.
“Senior’s so handsome!! I saw someone secretly trying to copy your scale-sticking trick!!”
“Let’s sing! I just queued up a bunch—what else should we add?”
“Both seniors are total hotties. WeChat swap?”
Fu Congxiao offered a faint smile. Most of the time, he simply sat beside Shang Xi, listening to him belt out songs and watching the others play games.
Shang Xi grabbed a song at random and passed the mic over. Fu Congxiao took it without a second thought and sang along in a low voice.
At seventeen, Fu Congxiao’s voice already carried the timbre of adulthood—magnetic and faintly husky. It was enough to make cheeks flush.
No one knew who started it, but an empty beer bottle appeared on the table, and soon they were shouting to play Truth or Dare.
As the songs cut and switched in a frenzy, more and more people piled into the game.
Wherever the bottle spun, the punishment landed, filling the room with shrieks and howls.
Shang Xi was busy devouring the fruit platter when the bottle suddenly pointed his way.
He had sung a few numbers that night, leaving everyone extra hyped.
“It’s you! Red Bull God!”
“Hahaha—switch it up? I’m scared we’re gonna get some nuclear reveal!”
“No way! No escaping! Truth or dare?”
Shang Xi figured he had nothing to hide. He straightened up seriously. “Truth! Fire away!”
The last one punished cleared their throat. “If someone stole the person you like, would you steal them back?”
Fu Congxiao had been fighting off drowsiness. He glanced sideways.
Little Nightingale sat bolt upright.
“If it’s just a little like, hell yeah—steal ’em back. Means that other person has zero taste.”
The classmate nodded knowingly. “Okay, but what if it’s someone you really, really like?!”
“Hmm…” Shang Xi declared without missing a beat. “Tie ’em up first. Then whip ’em while asking if they dare do it again.”
Fu Congxiao looked mildly surprised. The others erupted in hoots.
“Brother Xi’s vibe is all wrong!!”
“So straightforward—totally caught me off guard—”
Shang Xi crunched into a piece of watermelon, utterly unfazed. “Someone important? Lock ’em down by your side. I can’t stand anyone else even glancing their way.”
“So possessive! Kinda alpha, surprisingly!!”
“Dating you would probably be a wild ride, haha.”
Senior Brother nursed his beer nearby, lost in thought.
A few rounds later, the bottle landed on Fu Congxiao.
A junior girl, with zero self-preservation, lobbed out a bombshell.
“What’s your wildest fantasy?”
The room went dead silent for a beat—then exploded into even rowdier cheers.
“Here we go!!”
“Whoa, are we cleared for this?”
“I’m betting blow up the school or rip off the Neck Ring. I dream about that every day.”
Amusement welled up in Fu Congxiao’s eyes.
He finally seemed able to voice his deep, buried desires out loud.
“The craziest one…”
Shang Xi glanced at him, a touch of unease in his eyes.
Fu Congxiao said flatly, “Eating my roommate.”
Someone immediately piped up, “Shang Xi’s in the same dorm as him!”
“Ah, I’ve seen Brother Xi’s true form—so tiny, looks like it would go down easy!!”
“I’m not the only one who’s thought that! Damn! My guilt just lightened up big time!”
“My roommate smells amazing too, aaaah, finally I can say it out loud!”
Shang Xi stared blankly into his eyes. The other man didn’t look away—instead, he met his gaze openly, almost brazenly.
Their eyes locked for three seconds, an eternity to the young man.
In that instant, Shang Xi felt himself slipping back into his Nightingale state, pinned under that gaze unique to snakes.
Just one bite.
Like snapping up a piece of mochi, the man could easily scoop him into his mouth and swallow him whole.
A primal fear surged alongside an indescribable panic, so fierce it bordered on twisted exhilaration.
The sheer size difference between a Nightingale and a cobra made even the bird’s struggles seem pitifully futile.
Shang Xi finally grasped the reality: he shared a dorm with his natural predator.
This snake tolerated the little bird perching on his head, even letting it nibble the tip of his tail now and then.
But in any moment—just one instant—
He could be devoured entirely.
A senior girl came over and patted his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, don’t worry. The dorms have special detection systems. Even if your senior brother swallows you whole, the dorm supervisor will grab him by the tail and make him cough you up.”
Someone else burst into wild laughter.
“Ghost story for real—the case that senior sister mentioned actually happened.”
Everyone finally let loose their pent-up little secrets, visibly relieved.
“Keep it going!”
“Hey, turns out we’re all just faking being normal, hahaha, I’m at peace now.”
“What’s the big deal? Everyone’s got some dark little thoughts.”
Shang Xi clutched his tray and took another bite of pineapple, barely tasting it.
As he chewed the fruit, it felt like the fruit was chewing him back.
Sour and sweet, laced with a sharp sting—still irresistibly tempting.
The guy next to him casually speared a piece with his fork and asked lightly, “Scared?”
Shang Xi looked up again.
“You should’ve been scared from the start,” he said. “Should’ve kept your distance—as far away as possible.”
Fu Congxiao lowered his gaze with a faint smile and reached for a napkin.
Somehow, even before the game began, they’d ended up side by side.
The private room was massive, with endless seating options.
Sofas, stools, cushions scattered on the floor.
Yet here they were, pressed close—shoulders brushing, legs touching.
As Fu Congxiao stretched for the napkin, the space between them shrank even more, their body heat mingling directly.
Shang Xi kept his head down, making no move to pull away.
Fu Congxiao grabbed the napkin and slowly wadded it into a ball.
Like he was idly encroaching on something soft, methodically destroying it.
“Too late.”
The two young men absorbed the room’s raucous energy alongside a shared, unspoken silence that stretched on.
Until the bottle spun once more, its mouth pointing straight at Shang Xi.
“Ha! Brother Xi’s luck is in the toilet tonight!”
Shang Xi snapped back to reality and blurted, “Truth.”
“Nope, you already picked that last time,” someone crowed smugly. “Dare it is!”
“Ah…” Shang Xi rubbed his temple. “I don’t wanna go hit up strangers for their WeChat or anything. Go easy on me, guys.”
He’d watched the punishments escalate firsthand.
The others had endured round after round of chaos already—they weren’t about to let him slide.
“Hit Brother Xi with something brutal! Holy crap, I actually asked the waiter for Gaokao practice sheets earlier, and he looked at me like I was brain-dead!”
“You’re overthinking it. Waiters here have seen every kind of crazy.”
The last guy punished mulled it over and proposed something halfway reasonable.
“Alright, pick anyone in the room and interlock fingers with them for fifteen seconds.”
Fu Congxiao’s eyes flickered faintly. Shang Xi zeroed in on Old Chen, his reliable lab partner.
“I’ll go with Old Chen!”
Old Chen thrust out his hand without hesitation. “Say thanks to your good bro!”
Shang Xi reached out with his left hand. In the next instant, another slender, pale hand cut into his view.
“With me.”
Fu Congxiao’s eyes caught the lights like chips of cold emerald.
Chillingly beautiful, impossible to tear away from.
Shang Xi froze. Before he could react, their fingers were clasped tight.
The culprit said calmly, “Time it.”
Screams erupted in the room, deafening.
“Holy shit!!!”
“Damn, damn—is this even allowed?? For real??”
“Damn, that’s so smooth! Senior, you can’t seriously be into him, can you?!”
Old Chen tactfully pulled his hand back, snatching a handful of sunflower seeds on the way. His eyes said it all: Bro, you’re on your own.
Shang Xi could barely make out what the others were screaming amid the chaos. All he felt was the heat burning across his face as Fu Congxiao led him by the hand.
He’d rushed over to Old Chen out of an inexplicable guilt that clawed at him.
He’d only wanted to slip away from Fu Congxiao—the timing hadn’t even been that late.
But Fu Congxiao had calmly declared it too late, shattering any chance of escape.
One palm slick with sweat, the other cool to the touch.
Being pulled along like that drained even more warmth from him, ensnaring him once again in the silent coil of a serpent’s tail.
The others were all laughing. “Take it slow—no need to rush the countdown!”
“Ten! Nine point five! Nine—”
One of the junior girls covered her face as she whooped, “Senior!! Explain yourself!! What the hell are you doing?!”
“I’m giving my roommate a proper apology,” Fu Congxiao said with a serene smile. In a low voice, he added, “I didn’t scare you earlier when I said I wanted to eat you up, did I?”
Shang Xi had been desperately trying to shove those words out of his mind, but here they were again, flung back at him like a deliberate taunt.
“You…”
In petty retaliation, he clenched his fingers tight, nails digging just enough to prick the back of Fu Congxiao’s hand.
Fu Congxiao didn’t flinch. He simply gazed at him with gentle composure.
Even though they both knew the truth. Even though dark currents churned beneath the surface.
Fu Congxiao played it so cool and unflappable that no one else could guess just how searingly hot every word truly was.
The young man flushed in embarrassment. “Okay, fifteen seconds are up.”
Fu Congxiao murmured softly, “Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to let go?”
Shang Xi turned his head away and clammed up.
