Xia Yiyang sneaked the admission letter back home.
The word “sneaked” was truly appropriate—that big red box was far too conspicuous to hide from prying eyes. He and Sheng Lin lived together, in and out at all hours of the day. Finding a moment alone to open the letter was simply impossible.
Alas! Poor young master! Tragic little emperor! Getting into university was supposed to be a cause for celebration with drums and gongs, yet here he was, skulking around like a thief!
As for where to hide it—that was another problem entirely. The house was only so big, and Sheng Lin was constantly tidying up. He knew exactly what was in every cabinet. If Xia Yiyang hid the admission letter in a cabinet, it would absolutely be found by Sheng Lin the very next day.
Fortunately, Xia Yiyang still had his suitcase.
This unremarkable suitcase had accompanied the young master from Beijing to the hotel, from the hotel to the hostel, and from the hostel to Sheng Lin’s place. Xia Yiyang hated organizing things—his clothes and odds and ends were always just tossed haphazardly into the suitcase. When he first moved into Sheng Lin’s living room, the suitcase lay open right next to the sofa bed. Several times, he’d stubbed his toe on it in the middle of the night while getting up, hopping around and howling in pain. Even so, the young master never bothered to put the suitcase away properly.
It wasn’t until Sheng Lin invited him into the bedroom and gave him half the closet that Xia Yiyang’s suitcase gradually emptied out, eventually getting shoved under the sofa.
Now, it was time for the young master’s suitcase to make a comeback!
Xia Yiyang dragged out the suitcase, pulling out some small bits of trash from under the sofa along with it—look, it was his sock! Those were his favorite panda socks, and the left one had been missing for nearly two weeks—turns out it had rolled under the sofa.
He immediately put the left sock on.
Look, it was his power bank! He’d wondered why he couldn’t find it, and even joked that it had gained sentience, seen the news about uncertified electronics not being allowed on planes, and run away on its own.
He immediately plugged in his phone.
Next, Xia Yiyang unearthed a whole treasure trove from under the sofa: the little elastic band he used to tie back his bangs, the pinecone he’d picked up on Mount Qingcheng, the home ear-cleaning kit he’d insisted on buying (never used once), and the miniature mahjong tiles he’d gotten from a gacha machine…
There was even the fortune cookie Qin Zaozao had given him. Oh, he’d been having so much fun lately that he’d completely forgotten about it.
Xia Yiyang poked the cookie through its packaging. Rongcheng’s humidity had softened it completely—it could only be kept as a souvenir now. He wondered if the paper fortune inside had gotten moldy.
Whatever—he set it aside and continued his treasure hunt.
When Sheng Lin walked out of the study, he saw the teenager kneeling on the living room floor, head tilted, staring into the gap under the sofa.
Focused, like a little cat.
The boy was wearing cool short-sleeved pajama shorts. As he leaned down, his pajama top naturally slid forward with gravity, revealing a pale, slender waist. Xia Yiyang was very thin, yet all his flesh seemed to have gone to his backside, the lightweight fabric practically stretched to its limit.
Sheng Lin’s Adam’s apple bobbed. That must feel good to touch.
Ahem.
No looking at things you shouldn’t.
He called out: “Xia Yiyi, what are you doing?”
“!” Xia Yiyang sprang up on the spot, spinning around to face him in a panic. His left foot inexplicably wore one sock, while his bare right foot seemed to want to flee—but escape failed, and it could only stay put, scratching at the floor.
“I—I’m not doing anything.”
Sheng Lin’s gaze shifted to the suitcase beside him: “Why did you drag out your suitcase?”
“Uh, I want to pack my things.” Xia Yiyang was immensely grateful he’d closed the lid immediately after tossing the admission letter inside. “I bought way too many random souvenirs. I want to pack them all up. And since my clothes have been hanging in your closet—I thought I’d put away the ones I don’t wear often.”
To support his story, Xia Yiyang pretended to be very busy, folding clothes and organizing souvenirs.
But he didn’t realize that his packing behavior was giving Sheng Lin the wrong idea.
“…Are you going back to Beijing?” the man asked.
Xia Yiyang let out a “Huh?” and turned to look at him.
Sheng Lin said: “Before your sister went into the venue today, didn’t she say you’d been traveling too long and urged you to go back?”
The teenager scratched his head, looking troubled: “From what my sister said, if I don’t go home, my parents are definitely going to nag me… Brother Lin, you’re not going to be mad that I’m going home during the busiest part of the summer, are you?”
Though Sheng Lin had been prepared, hearing Xia Yiyang admit with his own mouth that he was leaving Rongcheng still brought a bitter taste to his heart.
“Why would I be mad? Your aunt and uncle must miss you a lot.” Sheng Lin’s expression showed no cracks, and his tone was as calm as ever. “When are you planning to leave?”
“Let me check flights… mm, how about August 20th!”
Xia Yiyang planned to go back for a week and return to Rongcheng with his parents right before school started. Once home, he intended to have a farewell meal with his high school friends. Beijing kids rarely left the capital for college, but Xia Yiyang was the odd one out who loved adventure. This trip back, he’d proudly show off all his experiences in Rongcheng to his friends, letting them know he was no pampered little master raised in a greenhouse!
Sheng Lin looked at the half-open suitcase at Xia Yiyang’s feet. Countless words caught in his throat, but none of them came out.
The young master was eager to go home. The time they had left together was running out.
…
That night, neither of them slept well.
Xia Yiyang couldn’t sleep because he kept thinking about the admission letter hidden in his suitcase. He tossed and turned all night like a pancake on a griddle. Even when he finally fell asleep, he let out bursts of strange laughter in his dreams.
Sheng Lin couldn’t sleep because the person beside him kept laughing weirdly in his sleep. Woken up in the middle of the night, he looked helplessly at the young master beside him.
The young master had half his body outside the quilt. The bedroom’s air conditioning was set extremely low, and the exposed skin on his arms was covered in tiny goosebumps. He shivered from the cold, yet in his dreams he didn’t think to cover himself—instead, he instinctively burrowed toward Sheng Lin, seeking a new source of warmth.
Sheng Lin gazed at the teenager so close to him. In the moonlight, he could see the fine layer of fuzz on his face—like velvet, like a peach—tempting one to make a mistake in the darkness.
The boy muttered disjointed sleep-talk: “Hehehe… admission letter… hehehe… back to Beijing…”
They say dreams are the truest reflection of the heart. Listening to the fragmentary words tumbling from his lips, Sheng Lin had so much he wanted to say, but in the end, it all condensed into a single sigh of tender pity.
He gathered Xia Yiyang’s limbs back under the quilt, wrapping him up properly so he wouldn’t keep practicing military boxing in his sleep.
Then, quilt and all, he drew him into his embrace.
The boy felt the warmth and burrowed deeper into the crook of the man’s neck. Sheng Lin felt a slight tickle but didn’t pull away.
Slightly long black hair fell across Xia Yiyang’s forehead. Even in sleep, a smile rippled at the corners of his lips, and seeing that smile made Sheng Lin unconsciously soften his own eyes and mouth.
“Sleep,” Sheng Lin patted the quilt-wrapped bundle in his arms.
Sleep on.
…
Xia Yiyang suspected he’d turned into a little chick.
He had a strange summer sleeping habit—the air conditioning had to be set low, the quilt had to be thick, cold on the outside and warm on the inside, perfectly balanced.
But today, something was off. He felt like he was trapped inside an eggshell, unbearably hot all over, unable to move his arms or legs.
He-yah—!
He struggled hard, finally breaking through the eggshell with one arm. His hand seemed to touch something hot and firm. Half-asleep, he opened his eyes, and what greeted them was Sheng Lin’s sharply defined face.
Damn! A king-size bed with two pillows, and he’d somehow ended up on Sheng Lin’s pillow? Their position was hardly innocent—he was practically sprawled across Sheng Lin’s chest, with Sheng Lin’s hand resting on his quilt, while his own hand that had escaped the blanket had coincidentally landed on…
The boy had been squirming and twisting under the quilt, and Sheng Lin had been stirred awake by his movements.
Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, filling the room with brightness. Their eyes met, and every subtle expression on each other’s faces was clearly visible.
“Morning,” Xia Yiyang said awkwardly, his scalp tingling at the proximity, grasping for small talk. “Brother Lin, you’re really energetic this morning…”
God, what is this stupid mouth even saying!
Nothing was good about morning! Morning was terrible—so terrible it had short-circuited his brain and made him spout nonsense.
Sheng Lin said nothing, following the line of his outstretched hand downward.
Xia Yiyang realized belatedly and hastily withdrew his hand, pulling the quilt tight around himself, stammering: “How did I end up on your side?”
“Who knows?” Sheng Lin’s voice was a little hoarse—probably just from waking up. “I was sleeping fine, and you just had to crash into my arms.”
Xia Yiyang felt guilty and couldn’t tell whether he was telling the truth or not.
Sheng Lin got up and said, “I’m going to wash up.”
“Mm…” The young master wrapped himself tighter in the quilt and rolled back to the far corner of the bed, his eyes darting everywhere but at him.
Sheng Lin took a cold shower, a rather long one. When he came back, his body still emanated a cool mist.
Xia Yiyang’s mind wandered, and he couldn’t help speculating about what Sheng Lin had done in the bathroom.
Seeing that Xia Yiyang was still lazing in bed, Sheng Lin asked him: “Since you’re awake, want to come out and exercise with me?”
“I’m not awake, not awake.” Xia Yiyang quickly closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. “It’s only six—even the bugs aren’t up yet, and the birds can’t get up either.”
Seeing he couldn’t rouse him, Sheng Lin didn’t push. He changed into his workout clothes and went downstairs to run.
The door clicked shut, and the next second, Xia Yiyang jumped out of bed and scrambled to the bedroom window, still wrapped in his quilt. He lifted a corner of the curtain and peered out furtively.
The man was doing warm-up stretches by the roadside. Even with just simple stretching, his beautiful muscle lines were impossible to look away from.
The breakfast shop owner next door greeted Sheng Lin warmly: “Boss Sheng, how come it’s always just you? Isn’t that kid from your place afraid of the sun, hiding at home like a young master?”
Sheng Lin replied: “He’s young and still growing. He needs more sleep.”
Then he changed the subject: “What’s for breakfast today?”
Breakfast shop owner: “Peanut milk congee—your kid definitely hasn’t had it before! Fresh out of the pot, still hot.”
“Two portions, then.” Sheng Lin said. “He likes cold food. Could you chill one portion in the fridge for me? I’ll pick it up after my run.”
“Sure thing, sure thing!” The breakfast shop owner moved swiftly, muttering, “You’re really something as an older brother—no complaints at all.”
As if by some unseen force, Sheng Lin felt a gaze settle on him. He turned to look up at the second-floor bedroom window—only to see the curtain swaying gently.
He smiled, finished his warm-up, and started running. In the morning light, the man ran straight along the tree-lined path—not fast, but each step measured with precision, as if calibrated by a ruler.
In the bedroom, Xia Yiyang, who had nearly been caught, pulled his head back in. His mind still lingered on the image of the man running forward. Wow—he’d known Brother Lin for almost two months now, yet every day Sheng Lin seemed more attractive than the day before.
Stop, stop—don’t think about all that random stuff. He’d woken up early today for something important.
Xia Yiyang dashed out of the bedroom, lunged for his suitcase, and fished out the red box buried under all the souvenirs—yes, he was going to open his admission letter while Sheng Lin was out exercising!
This was the letter he’d been dreaming about all summer long. Ever since the day he submitted his college application, he’d been envisioning this very moment.
Xia Yiyang held his breath and carefully peeled off the plastic seal from the red box. His hands trembling, he opened it—inside the rigid gift box, besides the usual items like enrollment instructions and a bank card, there was actually a scroll.
Who would have thought—this year, Rongda’s admission letter came in the form of a scroll.
“Ahem, ahem,” the teenager stood up, holding the scroll aloft, putting on an exaggerated one-man show. “By the grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Xia Yiyang, hurry and receive your edict!”
The next second, he dropped to his knees, accepting the scroll with both hands, instantly in character: “Your humble servant receives the decree!”
The boy couldn’t wait to untie the thin cord on the scroll and unfurl it inch by inch.
The neatly printed text was finally fully revealed before him.
[Dear Xia Yiyang:
We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to the School of Mechanical Engineering at Rongcheng University, majoring in…
The registration date is…]
Xia Yiyang couldn’t help but transform into a baboon—screeching, pounding his chest, and bouncing all over the living room.
Jumping on the sofa, jumping on the carpet, even grabbing his panda plushie to jump along with him.
(^▽^)!
(@^▽^@)!!
(p≧w≦q)!!!
He’d already checked his admission results online a long time ago and thought he wouldn’t be this excited. But holding the admission letter in his hands, feeling its substantial weight, seeing the red seal of “Rongda School of Mechanical Engineering” with his own eyes—the thrill of his wish finally coming true surpassed everything.
He was a college student now!
He’d been admitted to Rongcheng University!
In one month, he’d be starting his studies at the School of Mechanical Engineering!
Summer was the best!
This summer, his biggest wish had come true!
He took eight hundred selfies with the admission letter held aloft, opened WeChat, and couldn’t wait to share the good news.
But when he saw the pinned contacts at the top, his hand paused.
He didn’t have many friends on WeChat, and only two were pinned.
The first was the [Imperial Relatives Exchange Group].
The second was… [Brother Lin].
Brother Lin.
Sheng Lin.
A minute ago, Xia Yiyang had been over the moon. But now, why did he feel so deflated?
…
“What rotten luck—I forgot to exclude my boss from that post yesterday.”
Jian Yun stared at the message from her boss on her phone and couldn’t help rolling her eyes so hard they nearly got stuck.
At Saturday’s signing event, not only had she met her “husband,” but she’d also gotten her hands on limited-edition signed photo cards through her brother’s connection. She’d been overjoyed and posted about it on Moments, forgetting to exclude her colleagues. Though she’d realized it within a minute and deleted and reposted it, her boss had already seen it.
And then—her dog of a boss had “assigned” her a “task.”
Hmph. [Expletive redacted].
To briefly summarize the task:
She currently worked at a leading mechanical manufacturing company in the industry. The company had been collaborating with a high-precision component design engineer for some time. This engineer was based in Rongcheng—not an employee of their company, but a freelancer. He’d recently been designing a new set of industrial components for the company, and it was complete and ready for delivery.
The problem was, the design files were far too large. Transferring them over the internet was unstable and posed a leak risk. Mailing them wasn’t secure enough either. The boss had originally planned to send someone to personally pick up the hard drive—but it just so happened that Jian Yun was already in Rongcheng!
@BaldBoss: Jian Yun, aren’t you flying back to Beijing from Rongcheng tonight?
@BaldBoss: Perfect. Before you board the plane, go pick up the hard drive from him.
Jian Yun: “…”
Perfect my ass.
She wasn’t getting her airfare reimbursed, nor her accommodation. She’d come here to see her idol and her “husband,” not to go on a business trip at her own expense!
Fuming, she viciously typed out a reply.
@Cloudy: Okay, got it. [Handshake][OK][Rose]
@Cloudy: How do I contact this engineer?
@BaldBoss: Here’s his number: 138xxxxxxxxx.
@BaldBoss: Navigate to the Summer Ice Jelly Shop at Rongda’s North Gate. Call him when you get there.
Jian Yun: “…?”
She’d long heard that people in Rongcheng lived a relaxed life—either in mahjong parlors or tea houses. This engineer took it to another level, actually arranging to meet at an ice jelly shop.
Speaking of ice jelly, she remembered the refreshments at yesterday’s signing event—chilled, bubbly ice jelly with fresh fruit. She’d downed three bowls in one go.
Her brother had said his “Brother Lin” was the refreshment supplier for that event. She wondered what his shop was called—she’d love to have some again.
Rongcheng was full of ice jelly shops on every street. And coincidentally, the freelance engineer she was meeting today had chosen to meet at an ice jelly shop.
Perfect—she could get a takeout order to bring on the plane.
Leave a Reply