Yang Haoran returned to the classroom and took his seat. As for Yaoyao, she had arrived ahead of him, just like always.
Once he was settled, he noticed a pair of eyes fixed on him. They had been watching him from the moment he stepped through the door.
“Zhao Jun!”
Yang Haoran spotted the familiar face. Their gazes locked, crackling with tension.
In the end, Zhao Jun couldn’t hold out. With a cold snort, he turned away.
The shadow of that last beating still lingered in his heart. Now facing Yang Haoran head-on, he felt a twinge of fear deep down, even if he refused to admit it.
He had arrived early that morning, only to find his classmates’ stares completely different from before—tinged with disdain or scorn. It left him feeling stifled and irritated.
As time passed, more students trickled into the classroom.
“You’re here early today, Rat,” Wei Ming said, slapping Yang Haoran on the shoulder in greeting before taking the seat behind him.
“You’re the one who’s late, calling me early,” Yang Haoran shot back, rolling his eyes.
“I was up all night grinding games—barely got two hours of sleep. If the dorm supervisor hadn’t done rounds, I might’ve skipped class altogether.”
Wei Ming looked drained, yawning as he spoke. “Hey, Rat, how come you haven’t been online lately? I’ve been solo queuing alone. Last night I got so tilted I went into full meltdown mode—the madder I got, the worse I played, losing streak after losing streak.”
Hearing Wei Ming bring it up, Yang Haoran realized it was true. He hadn’t touched a game since getting out of the hospital.
He chuckled and made up an excuse on the spot. “Been busy chasing skirts lately. Limited stamina, you know? Gotta leave the solo queues to you.”
“Already moving on to someone new? Who’s the girl, Rat? She hot?”
Wei Ming sounded surprised. Was Rat really that bold these days?
Yang Haoran’s mind flashed to Aunt Shen’s devilish figure and stunning face. “It’s not about hot or not. She’s a total siren—an enchanting one. Any guy would fall for her.”
“No way, for real? That top-tier?” Wei Ming’s curiosity was piqued. “Who is she? From our class or another?”
He racked his brain for matches to Rat’s description but came up empty. Yang Mengyao and Xiao Shaowan were pretty, sure, but they didn’t scream “siren.” If he had to pick someone in class, maybe only their homeroom teacher, Gu Qingying, fit the bill.
Who in their teenage years could resist a mature, beautiful woman with a killer body?
“Can’t say… Can’t say…” Yang Haoran shook his head, flashing a knowing look.
“Come on, Rat, that’s not cool. Don’t leave me hanging like this—it’s torture!”
Wei Ming grumbled. Seeing Yang Haoran still shaking his head, he switched tactics. “Fine, fine… I won’t make you spill the details. Just drop a hint or two to satisfy your bro’s curiosity, yeah? Haoran bro~”
By the end, Wei Ming’s voice turned syrupy and coquettish, like he was wheedling. It gave Yang Haoran goosebumps all over.
He’d known since they met that Wei Ming had a hot temper, but underneath it, the guy was a total closet perv.
“Fine, you win…” Yang Haoran rubbed his forehead, exasperated. After a moment’s thought, he decided to toss him some scraps. “Won’t say who exactly, but she’s not from our class. Looks-wise? Think Teacher Gu’s figure and face—not a bit inferior.”
“That’s basically saying nothing!”
“Hold up, Little Ming. You’re awfully chatty today. In heat or something? Wanna hunt one down yourself?”
“As if it’s that easy. Besides, where do you even find a type like that?” Wei Ming sighed helplessly at the thought.
Yang Haoran paused, then leaned in and whispered, “What about Aunt He?”
“Which Aunt He?” Wei Ming blinked in confusion at first, but a flicker of shock passed through his seemingly innocent eyes.
“Come closer.”
Yang Haoran leaned toward Wei Ming’s ear and murmured, “He Muchen.”
Wei Ming’s eyes went wide. He stared at Yang Haoran in disbelief, his mind reeling with shock. How did Rat know? Was he bluffing, or did he really have dirt?
Doubts swirled in his head, leaving him flustered—a mix of panic that his buried secret had been unearthed and a strange, faint thread of anticipation.
On the surface, Wei Ming’s face flushed beet red. If they weren’t in class, those fiery eyes of his could’ve incinerated Rat on the spot.
Gritting his teeth to suppress his rage, he hissed in a trembling whisper, “Rat, that’s too far. You can’t joke like that. That’s my mom—you know what you just said?”
“Apologize, and I’ll pretend it never happened. We’ll still be bros. Otherwise, friendship’s over.”
“Sorry.” Yang Haoran apologized helplessly. Wei Ming’s expression softened a bit.
“It was unintentional… I swear, Little Ming, totally unintentional.” Yang Haoran emphasized. “Your dorm computer’s old rig got a virus once. When I was cleaning it up, I found a Trojan hiding in a folder. Got curious, opened it, and saw a bunch of torrents. Those torrents…”
“Stop.”
Wei Ming cut him off, his face darkening ominously. He knew better than anyone what was in that folder.
Seeing his bro’s expression turn scary-black, Yang Haoran added, “It’s just a mother complex. Nothing to be ashamed of. I just didn’t expect you to have those thoughts too.”
“Huh?” Wei Ming’s heart jolted. What had he just heard?
His voice hesitant, he asked, “Rat… you have those thoughts too?”
“If I didn’t, I’d have kept this secret buried forever and acted like I never saw it.” Yang Haoran shrugged. If it weren’t for the fact that Wei Ming’s torrent collection was nothing but mother-son incest vids, he wouldn’t have been so sure—or bothered telling him.
Rat’s blunt honesty left Wei Ming feeling awkward instead.
It was like the deep, shameful secret he’d hidden away forever was no big deal to someone else. Was Rat nuts, or was the whole world?
“You don’t think it’s… you know, taboo… worldly judgment or whatever…?” Wei Ming stammered.
What he meant was that this kind of thing was seen as utterly depraved and scandalous by society. How could Rat talk about it so casually?
Had they both somehow skipped morality class in their nine years of compulsory education? No Confucian classics for either of them?
He felt overwhelmed by the shocks today—numb, almost like he was meeting Rat for the first time.
