Lin Cheng silently cracked open the second can of beer.
Lu Xiaoxiao reached out to take it, only to realize that Lin Cheng had already taken a swig straight from the can. When he noticed her hand extended, he paused for a beat. “Do you still want some?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Lu Xiaoxiao shot him a sideways glance.
Lin Cheng chuckled and handed her a can. Before long, that one was also chilled by a few degrees. Only then did it click for him. “Help chill mine too.”
Lu Xiaoxiao snapped her fingers, and the beer in Lin Cheng’s hand turned ice-cold.
He fell silent after that, quietly gazing at the moon in the night sky. Tonight’s moon was fairly round, though slightly dimmed by some nearby clouds drifting across it. Lu Xiaoxiao’s legs were crossed beneath the hem of her skirt. She glanced casually at Lin Cheng and saw that he was indeed staring intently at the moon.
She had assumed he would keep rambling on with his twisted logic, but to her surprise, he stopped there. Seeing that he had nothing more to say, Lu Xiaoxiao stayed quiet too. The two of them sat in silence, watching the moon, the world around them utterly still. Gradually, the wind picked up.
“You’re clearly a bit younger than me, yet you spout all this bizarre nonsense all day long…” Lu Xiaoxiao remarked offhandedly.
“Then what kind of words make someone an adult?” Lin Cheng turned away from the moon, looking back at her with gentle eyes. But Lu Xiaoxiao found herself at a loss for an answer.
What did it take to become an adult, really?
“So you’re still just a kid too. Only by sticking firmly to your own convictions, unaffected by others, can you truly be called an adult.”
“Twisted logic.”
“Right and wrong are hard to debate because they depend on one’s standpoint. So only by holding firm to your own truth can you be absolutely right. But people don’t live just to be right, nor do they make friends because it’s ‘right.’ Sticking rigidly to your own correctness only makes you more and more isolated.”
“So you don’t have many friends?” Lu Xiaoxiao gave him a disdainful look.
“No, I prefer going along with others. Girls sometimes need a little coaxing to become cute. I’d guess the one with few friends… is you.” Lin Cheng winked at her.
Lu Xiaoxiao clenched her fists.
She suddenly had the urge to punch someone.
Bullseye.
Lin Cheng could clearly read the flicker of resentment in the corner of Lu Xiaoxiao’s eye. He took another big gulp of beer and leaned back in the lounge chair, narrowing his eyes slightly as he resumed his lazy contemplation of the moon. Gentle moonlight bathed his face, and the breeze brought a refreshing coolness.
“You seem pretty lost.” Lin Cheng began to coax her gently.
Vigilance filled Lu Xiaoxiao’s eyes at first. She didn’t want to look at him anymore, so she turned her gaze to the moon as well. But she didn’t deny it. “A little, yeah.”
“Still, sticking to your guns is pretty cool.” Lin Cheng suddenly grinned. “Going with the flow isn’t bad, but if you want true peace of mind, the ultimate goal is self-realization.”
“You know psychology too?”
“A bit. Half-baked knowledge, mostly. I use it to sweet-talk girls—blame all their current issues on their dysfunctional family, give them an outlet to vent all their faults. After all, no one wants to admit their own mistakes; they just want a solid excuse to shift the blame.”
“But a lot of people’s personality flaws and psychological problems really do stem from childhood trauma…”
“Exactly. That’s why those who buy into trauma theory the most end up trapped in the past, unable to move forward. I never deny that past experiences shape who you are now, but the question is… do you need to change? Only pain makes people truly want to transform, but transformation itself is painful. It means killing off your old self. That’s why we need excuses to numb ourselves. Most people don’t actually crave change—they just want pity and encouragement.”
Lu Xiaoxiao felt like there had to be some logical flaw in Lin Cheng’s words. Her competitive streak kept her silent for a full three minutes, but she still couldn’t pinpoint the problem. Frustrated, she took a big swig of her ice-cold beer and ended up choking a bit, coughing painfully. Lin Cheng gently patted her back.
At the same time, he continued softly, “But all that up there? It’s just to fool the indecisive fools. They’ll overthink it endlessly and probably decide to change, thinking it’ll lead to a happy, fulfilling life. It’ll prove they’re not weak or submissive, that they have the rebellious spirit to defy fate. Then they’ll see me—the guy spouting this seemingly cool life philosophy—as their catalyst for change. Whether they idolize me or try to out-argue my logic… once the fish is hooked, it’s easy sailing.”
Enlightenment dawned on Lu Xiaoxiao, followed immediately by the impulse to splash her beer in Lin Cheng’s face.
She turned to look at him. He wore a helpless smile. Lu Xiaoxiao ground her teeth. “Where the hell do you learn all this crap?”
“From books. Read enough, and you pick it up naturally. All half-baked, but good enough to charm a girl.”
“What if you run into a woman who knows more than you?”
“Then I’d play the innocent little puppy. Most strong women have a hidden maternal side. When a sweet, obedient boy curls up in their arms, nuzzling against their chest, it gives them this inexplicable sense of peace and happiness.”
Lu Xiaoxiao stared straight at Lin Cheng, momentarily speechless. She figured any insult would just bounce off his thick skin like a tickle. Rational instinct told her she’d bitten the hook again. Right now, she desperately wanted to see this man in front of her break down in tears. More precisely… it was her desire to win, to conquer, to dominate.
She knew she shouldn’t feel this way, but she couldn’t help wanting to say something—to tear through this guy’s defenses. Strange images flashed in Lu Xiaoxiao’s mind: Lin Cheng leaning into her embrace, his cheek buried in her chest, rubbing against it. The thought sent a shiver of disgust through her, yet her body trembled inexplicably.
Humans were such strange creatures.
Lin Cheng popped open the third can of beer and lightly poked Lu Xiaoxiao’s shoulder. She snapped her fingers, chilling his beer again. He took a big gulp and looked at her—hesitant to speak, teeth gritted. He smiled at her. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t fishing for you.”
Lu Xiaoxiao crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down without a word.
Lin Cheng gave her a weird look. “Really. I swear I won’t sleep with the same woman twice, or may I get hit by a car on my way out.”
Lu Xiaoxiao suddenly felt an inexplicable wave of humiliation.
She started taking deep breaths.
She had a thousand curses lined up in her mind, but none would come out. Meanwhile, Lin Cheng finished off that can and reached for the fourth. Lu Xiaoxiao snapped her fingers.
Lin Cheng sipped from the fourth can. “That line’s usually for convincing a girl you slept with once—who doesn’t want a second round—to give in. But say it in the wrong context, and it just pisses her off instead of sparking her competitive side.”
“Explain.”
“Huh? Figure it out yourself.”
“Explain.” Lu Xiaoxiao’s voice grew colder as she snapped her fingers again. The beer in Lin Cheng’s can froze solid into a block of ice. He gave her a wry look and surrendered. “Fine, fine.”
“It’s simple, really. A lot of girls have strong competitive streaks—especially the pretty ones. After getting tricked once, they get super vigilant… or vengeful. She might lie in bed with you again, but she won’t let you touch her, humiliating you to feel morally superior and satisfied.”
“So saying it first thing in bed makes her fly off the handle, feeling like her ‘mating rights’ are denied. She’ll pounce to prove her allure, mocking you for desiring her while… well, alcohol helps lower inhibitions—like a debuff.”
“But say it in a calm, safe space like this, and it’s just pure rage. Though you seem pretty even-tempered. I figured you’d splash me with your beer earlier.”
Lu Xiaoxiao’s fingers gripped the hem of her skirt.
She’d been played.
Her breathing had just steadied when her tone evened out a bit. “You seem awfully pleased with yourself.”
“Nah, not really. This is me teaching you how to avoid getting sweet-talked by scumbags. I don’t share this with just anyone.”
“So do you even have a clear sense of your own position? You absolute scumbag!”
“Hey, labels don’t matter. The worse the label, the more goodwill you get from doing one good thing. Sure, call me a deadbeat scumbag, but as long as I’m not cheating, forcing abortions, or scamming money, I’m just providing emotional value—and upfront about it. That’s just playful teasing, not true scum or beast-level.
Watch out for the ones who call you ‘nice-tempered,’ ‘great personality,’ ‘kind and generous’ instead. They slap on these shiny labels, and people subconsciously idealize themselves, slipping into the role… You’ll get burned that way.”
Lu Xiaoxiao clearly remembered he’d just labeled her even-tempered for not splashing him—priming the label, then reinforcing it with her actions. She took a deep breath and turned to Lin Cheng. She imagined he was gloating, smug about toying with her emotions. But actually, Lin Cheng was just clutching his beer can, desperately trying to pour frozen beer into his mouth. He set it down and looked at Lu Xiaoxiao with pitiful eyes. “Melt it, please. I’m begging you.”
“Drop dead.” Lu Xiaoxiao’s voice was icy.
“Don’t make me cry for you.” Lin Cheng gazed at her pitifully. “The beer you’re drinking is mine anyway. I haven’t done anything wrong—just chatted with you. You can’t bully people just because you’re an Ability User, right?”
For some reason, Lu Xiaoxiao felt in the wrong.
She grabbed a fresh can and handed it to him—already chilled. “I can only freeze; can’t thaw. Drink a new one. Let that one sit.”
“Sure thing.” The pitiful look on Lin Cheng’s face melted away instantly, replaced by a grateful smile.
…A strange pang of guilt stirred in Lu Xiaoxiao’s heart.
…Wait, had she fallen for it again?!
