Chapter 13

Ning Nanzhou’s ears flushed red beneath his hair, almost exploding with heat as the other pressed close to him, their scorching breath seeping through the fabric and nearly making his legs give out.

Do ordinary people have pheromones too?

If not, then why was he feeling so dizzy?

Fortunately, Chi Yu stared at him for a moment, then wiped the drop of water from his lips and said, “Just teasing you.”

He exhaled heavily in relief. Chi Yu then asked, “What do you want to eat?”

“I’m not picky,” he shook his head. “You can eat whatever you want.”

For some reason, the way Chi Yu looked at him felt… strange. As his mind slowly regained its clarity, he sensed something was off.

Ning Nanzhou ate his meal with a restless heart. Before going to the movies, he rushed to the bathroom to seek advice from the experienced Xu Ye.

“I have a friend—”

Before he could finish, Xu Ye interrupted, “What happened?”

“It’s really not me! It’s that my words got—used for three days straight,” he censored the phrase. “I have a friend who likes someone. Usually they don’t act out of line, but if the other person asks, ‘Why do you agree to everything?’ would that give away that they like them?”

“That’s obviously liking someone.”

!!!

His mind had been too muddled earlier. Who would say yes to everything for someone they’d only met four times?

Besides—

He looked at his reflection in the mirror: lips stained vivid, ears embarrassingly red, really like someone who had been—used for three days straight in a manga.

He took a deep breath and told himself he couldn’t keep going like this. He had to maintain his persona!

He washed his face with cold water, trying to wash away the redness at his ear tips.

Chi Yu was waiting for him at the ticket gate, shirt buttons fastened meticulously, long legs straight and slender, radiating a strong aura of restraint.

He walked over calmly, telling himself not to look down.

Yet, upon entering the couples’ theater and seeing the seats, his ears involuntarily reddened again.

No cinema near the university was proper; this one was no exception.

The double seats were spacious enough to lie back completely, with half-meter-high partitions between seats, along with a considerate little card that read, “No surveillance, feel free to use,” implying anything goes.

Are cinemas really this bold nowadays?

Ning Nanzhou stiffened for two seconds before sitting down, pretending not to notice the words on the card.

Other students didn’t disappoint. Even before the movie began, the neighboring seat was awash with unmistakably intimate sounds.

The darkness amplified every sensation; he could clearly hear the sounds of lips and teeth mingling, and feel—

Chi Yu’s breath drawing ever closer.

At that moment, the movie started. He kept his gaze fixed forward without glancing sideways.

It wasn’t easy. First, he had to ignore Chi Yu sitting right next to him, very close. Second, it was a Spanish art film—his first time at a cinema watching an art film, more soporific than chemical analysis.

He didn’t know why Chi Yu chose this film. He pinched his thigh to remind himself not to fall asleep.

More than halfway through, Chi Yu looked at the thin youth: “You’re watching very intently.”

Ning Nanzhou lowered his voice to prove it: “This film is quite captivating. I thought the protagonist had a special reason for searching for someone, but it turns out he just stumbled upon a number and embarked on a long journey to find them.”

He wracked his brain analyzing: “The love story is interesting too. The protagonist isn’t in love with a single person, but a type of person. Anastasia and Carla belong to the same type.”

If he’d known pretending to be obedient would be such torture, he should have just said he dropped out of middle school and had spent twenty years gutting fish at a supermarket, knowing nothing about games.

Perhaps his voice was too low; the other rested his chin on Ning Nanzhou’s shoulder, leaning close to his ear: “Then what kind of person do you like?”

Cold lips brushed against his sensitive earlobe, as if about to be kissed or bitten at any moment. He instinctively imitated Chi Yu’s tone: “Gentle and restrained.”

The moment he finished, the other responded flatly, “Oh.”

—

At the dinner party that day, Ning Nanzhou was unpacking a package alone in his dorm.

This time, he had bought a DK uniform: a milky white vest, a school-supplied shirt, and a plaid tie—pure and innocent like a harmless little white rabbit, exactly the kind he used to frown at.

Just as he finished unpacking, the dorm door opened and Xu Ye’s loud voice came from outside.

“Brothers, I’m back!”

If Xu Ye saw him buying such things...

Ning Nanzhou immediately shoved the clothes into his wardrobe, but it was too late.

Xu Ye’s sharp eyes caught a glimpse of white trim: “Damn, Ning! What did you buy?”

“You’re overthinking.” He quickly shut the wardrobe door.

But there were too many clothes to close it properly. Xu Ye strode over: “If you didn’t buy anything, why are you so secretive? Thongs or lingerie?”

Xu Ye flung the door open, sending clothes tumbling out.

Both fell silent.

Xu Ye was more shocked than if he had seen lingerie: “Xiao Zhou, why would you buy something like this?!”

Ning Nanzhou closed his eyes expressionlessly. He just knew...

Unable to endure Xu Ye’s alternating glances between the clothes and himself, his face full of shattered worldview, he explained: “I took on an ad shoot for a brand, to model their clothes.”

Xu Ye nearly had a heart attack: “You scared me to death!”

“This’s more normal than lingerie, right?” Ning Nanzhou was speechless.

Xu Ye’s look said he’d find Ning Nanzhou in lingerie more normal than this “good boy” act.

Ning Nanzhou: “...”

After changing, he received a call from Chi Yu: “Class over? I’ll come pick you up.”

“No need.” He awkwardly put on a light-colored tie. “The restaurant’s close to school; I’ll just walk.”

The other gave a low affirmative: “Call me when you get there.”

He said okay, hung up, and stepped out under Xu Ye’s gaze.

Xu Ye didn’t doubt Ning Nanzhou’s words.

Ning was different—they’d been earning their own living early on, yet he was careless with money: buying merchandise at the beginning of the month, eating only one meal a day by the end. Taking freelance jobs was normal.

—

Ning Nanzhou walked from the south gate to Beihua Road—famous for its narrowness and numerous restaurants, always jammed at meal times.

An idiot had parked a Bugatti at the intersection, blocking the way so not even a fly could pass. He was about to curse when he remembered the restaurant was just around the corner, and swallowed his words.

Luckily, the driver moved the car to a new spot and got out—a freckled kid with curly hair and a smiling young man.

Clearly, FKW’s support player Qiao Zhengqi and mid-laner Yu Jin’an!

Watching their backs, he nervously headed to the restaurant.

Chi Yu was at the door and, seeing the sweat on his forehead, gently explained, “Today, the two teammates and the club manager came. They’re all easy to get along with, no need to be nervous.”

He obediently replied with a hum.

“Let’s go.” Chi Yu paused suddenly. “Can I hold your hand?”

Caught off guard, his heart raced. Should he refuse?

Inside the private room, Little Qiao couldn’t wait—he was curious about what his captain’s partner was like.

He asked Song Mingjie, who was arranging the menu: “Song, why did the captain refuse to bring his partner yesterday but agreed today? Is it because my sincerity moved him? I only gave him weeds in his Ant Manor yesterday.”

Song Mingjie twitched his eyes: “Don’t ask. It’s none of your business.”

Yu Jin’an warned Little Qiao: “If you keep stealing my Ant Manor energy, don’t blame me if I make you play ranked.”

“I won’t let you play ranked anymore.” Little Qiao pouted. “Last time I ran into your old teammate, you almost healed him. Manager, I’m telling you, don’t sign him next season—he’s loyal to the enemy.”

At that moment, the door creaked open, and Little Qiao immediately fell silent.

Chi Yu entered holding the hand of a strikingly handsome youth.

Truly beautiful, with long, thick eyelashes and eyes like Hetian jade. Though dyed silver, there was no hint of coldness—more like a fluffy little bird.

Incredibly well-behaved.

Little Qiao was instantly smitten, wondering how the captain had managed to win him over—why didn’t he have such luck?

He quickly introduced himself: “Hello, partner! I’m Qiao Zhengqi, just call me Little Qiao. Do you play Arrival? I can help you reach King rank!”

Chi Yu blocked Little Qiao’s overly enthusiastic gaze and said coolly, “Your partner doesn’t play. If he wants to, I’ll take him.”

“You don’t play games? I’m pretty good,” Little Qiao was a little disappointed but quickly added, “It’s okay! There are so many trolls nowadays. You wouldn’t believe it, yesterday I got called a duck while playing.”

Ning Nanzhou raised an eyebrow; that was some serious trash talk.

Though he liked to banter, he’d never been called a duck before.

Little Qiao nearly looked heartbroken: “That guy was pretty good, but not that much. I lost 1v1 to him, then he called me a duck! I’m never playing match-three games again.”

The silver-haired youth lifted his head at the mention of match-three games.

Wait.

Was that... talking about his dad?