Ji Zhi’s words hadn’t even finished when Fu Huixu cut him off. “You just called my name.”
Ji Zhi: ?
His first reaction was pure confusion. Why on earth would he call the other guy’s name out of nowhere? But Fu Huixu wasn’t the type to lie about something so trivial…
Ji Zhi quickly realized the truth—oh crap, he actually might have.
In the dream, while begging Fu Huixu to let him go, Ji Zhi had indeed called out the man’s name several times.
Had he been so worked up that he’d shouted it aloud in reality?
Ji Zhi had no idea exactly what had happened. He racked his brain for an explanation while locking eyes with Fu Huixu, his nerves stretched taut.
After that brief interruption, Fu Huixu fell silent. His sharp gaze fixed on Ji Zhi, carrying a chill that felt almost tangible.
He had woken up that morning as usual and was about to head out after washing up.
Even as a freshman, Fu Huixu was already interning at his family’s company. His father had placed him in a frontline position for hands-on experience, so even on days without classes, he had to rise early and commute to work.
Previously, he’d lived near the office, but now that he was back on campus, the family butler drove to the school gates every day to pick him up.
Still, remembering how Zhi Zhi had mentioned his sore throat the night before, Fu Huixu decided to send a message first to check if it had improved.
He had just fired off the text to Zhi Zhi when a tense shout came from behind him: “Fu Huixu, don’t…”
Fu Huixu turned instinctively.
The dorm room held only him and his roommate, so the voice could only belong to the other guy.
Fu Huixu didn’t bother memorizing names unless they mattered to him, and this roommate was no exception.
He vaguely recalled that the guy’s name shared a similar sound with Zhi Zhi’s, but the full name? Not a clue.
Right now, the roommate lay on his bed, eyes squeezed shut, body trembling violently as if still trapped in the dream.
Fu Huixu frowned. He had zero interest in what dreams Ji Zhi was having—except that the guy had called his name in his sleep.
He wasn’t curious enough to dig deeper and was about to look away when Ji Zhi’s voice came again: “Let me go…”
Fu Huixu’s expression froze.
The voice quivered violently, laced with a whimper and desperate plea, like a small beast cornered in terror.
Yet something in that timbre struck Fu Huixu as familiar.
It reminded him of Zhi Zhi.
Zhi Zhi’s voice was soft and coaxing, every syllable a flirtatious lilt, the trembling ends like feathers brushing his heart and leaving it itchy.
Fu Huixu had spoken with Zhi Zhi plenty of times and replayed his voice messages endlessly, so it was no wonder this roommate’s tone felt eerily similar.
His gaze settled back on Ji Zhi.
The guy wore black-rimmed glasses and had an utterly ordinary face—nothing like Zhi Zhi.
But that voice…
Fu Huixu was still mulling it over when Ji Zhi’s eyes snapped open, followed by a question. That familiar timbre made his thoughts waver again.
Until Ji Zhi spoke once more: “I… I called your name?”
“Sorry, I must’ve had a nightmare. I often dream about people around me…”
Ji Zhi had called out Fu Huixu’s name multiple times in the dream and said plenty more besides.
Judging by Fu Huixu’s steady demeanor now, Ji Zhi figured the man hadn’t caught anything too incriminating—like “leave my pants alone” or “I don’t want to wear that skirt.”
Otherwise, he wouldn’t be facing a calm Fu Huixu; it’d be a fist instead.
With that settled in his mind, Ji Zhi regained his composure. After some frantic mental gymnastics, he scraped together that excuse.
And truthfully, it wasn’t entirely false—this dream had been a nightmare through and through.
Even awake, Ji Zhi could vividly recall every detail.
His wrists still tingled with the ghost of Fu Huixu’s iron grip, and with the man standing just a few feet away, it felt for a heartbeat like the nightmare was unfolding all over again.
Please, no…
After speaking, Ji Zhi forced down his panic and stared at Fu Huixu with feigned bewilderment.
He’d never studied acting, but in that moment, he credited his streaming experience and natural talent—because he nailed it.
Fu Huixu’s dark pupils reflected back a face full of genuine confusion and regret, as if Ji Zhi truly had no idea what had transpired.
Anyone else would have bought it hook, line, and sinker.
The voice before him—utterly unlike Zhi Zhi’s—snapped Fu Huixu out of his reverie.
The clear words pierced his ears, cooling his momentary lapse.
For a split second, he’d actually wondered if this roommate was Zhi Zhi.
But that was ridiculous. Their faces didn’t match, their voices only overlapped slightly, and Zhi Zhi lived alone in another city.
He was just overly worried about Zhi Zhi, that was all—enough to get distracted by a similar-sounding name and freeze at a single phrase.
Realizing there was no connection, Fu Huixu’s gaze turned icy.
He had no interest in whatever schemes Ji Zhi harbored; he wouldn’t entertain them anyway. With that, he turned to leave.
Ji Zhi blinked at the abrupt pivot but quickly grasped that his excuse had worked.
The knot in his chest finally loosened.
He vowed never to think of Fu Huixu before bed again, lest he slip up like this once more.
Though he’d woken earlier than usual, the morning’s scare had chased away any lingering sleepiness. He decided to head to class.
While checking his messages as always, Ji Zhi spotted one from Fu Huixu.
【Top Fan No.1: Baby, how’s your throat? Still hurting?】
Likely mindful of his roommate, Fu Huixu had sent text instead of voice, but Ji Zhi could easily imagine the gentle tone of Top Fan No.1.
Ji Zhi replied: 【It’s better now. Should be fully healed in a few days. Don’t worry.】
【Top Fan No.1: That’s a relief. Don’t push yourself if you’re feeling off—I’ll worry.】
【Top Fan No.1: Baby, I miss you so much. I even thought someone’s voice sounded just like yours today.】
Ji Zhi: “…”
Hold on—it was morning, and the only person he’d seen was Fu Huixu.
Had he accidentally slipped into his streaming voice?
The realization made his heart race. Terrified Fu Huixu might connect the dots like he had, he typed furiously: 【I miss you too.】
【I can’t wait to see you.】
【Top Fan No.1: Baby, I want to see you too.】
Seeing Top Fan No.1 shift topics, Ji Zhi grinned triumphantly.
As expected, mentioning this diverted Fu Huixu’s focus—no more voice talk. And now, he’d never link his roommate to it.
After replying, the contrast between Fu Huixu’s earlier cold tone and this hit Ji Zhi hard.
But it was for the best. At least it proved Fu Huixu hadn’t suspected a thing.
Ji Zhi headed to class.
During a break, he met up with Chen Xingwen.
Chen Xingwen’s worried gaze softened upon seeing Ji Zhi unscathed. “Thank goodness. I was freaking out you’d get found out. Glad you’re still in one piece.”
Recalling the morning ordeal, Ji Zhi sighed deeply. “…Almost wasn’t.”
Chen Xingwen: !!!
Ji Zhi skipped the dream details and gave a quick rundown of the incident.
Chen Xingwen looked at him with pure sympathy.
He totally got why Ji Zhi would dream of Fu Huixu—like how scary movies made him dream of ghosts.
Especially since ghosts weren’t real roommates, but Fu Huixu was right there.
Chen Xingwen even admired Ji Zhi a bit for managing to sleep at all.
Either way, it eased his own worries. Moving out of the dorm wouldn’t happen overnight, but with Ji Zhi’s resilience, he could relax.
Chen Xingwen: “Whatever happens, you’re okay—that’s what matters.”
Ji Zhi wasn’t sure exactly what ran through Chen Xingwen’s mind, but the pity in his eyes said enough.
After that near-miss, Ji Zhi stayed extra vigilant for the next few days.
To dodge phone calls that might give him away, he claimed his throat was still rough and stalled.
He returned to the dorm late each night, minimizing time with Fu Huixu. Holed up in the library studying, his grades skyrocketed.
Before bed, per Chen Xingwen’s advice, he binged horror flicks.
Fu Huixu’s presence dulled their terror a tad, but by steering clear of those thoughts, Ji Zhi avoided dreaming of him again.
Things were finally looking up.
Ji Zhi daydreamed about total freedom once Fu Huixu moved out.
That day, Ji Zhi and Chen Xingwen had light schedules. They agreed to grab a fancy meal after class.
They picked a food street near downtown, not returning until afternoon.
On the way back, Chen Xingwen caught up on sleep—Ji Zhi knew he’d pulled an all-nighter on anime—and left him be.
Bored, Ji Zhi scrolled his phone. A new message made his pupils contract.
【Top Fan #2: I’m at A University right now.】
