Work Text:
Now
Shang Qinghua glances around the room inconspicuously. Small groups are already forming around some desks as his fellow students make introductions and scan their WeChat profiles. Shang Qinghua wonders if maybe he should join one of the gatherings. This is a new start, after all, and Shang Qinghua’s chance to create a new whole image for himself. He turned into somewhat of a shut-in during high school and didn’t have that many friends. Any friends, to be honest, if you don’t count Shen Yuan. Which Shang Qinghua doesn’t because Shen Yuan isn’t a friend, he’s a blight upon Shang Qinghua’s existence. But now that he’s in university, Shang Qinghua is determined to turn over a new leaf. Last night when he couldn’t sleep, he outlined some of his potential roles in class. He lets his pen spin across his knuckles and revises the possibilities.
The Leader: Out of the question. Shang Qinghua isn’t nearly cool, talented, or determined enough to go for this one.
The Athletic One: Hah.
The Mysterious One: While he has the “quiet and withdrawn” thing down to a tee, he’s not exactly what people call enticing.
The Beautiful One: Hah.
The Smart One: Could be a possibility, if he weren’t so lazy when it comes to anything that isn’t his web novel. Put it on the Maybe list.
The Bully: Haha!!!
The Funny One: This could work, maybe? Shang Qinghua has written a comedy before, and it’s gotten pretty okay reviews. Another contender for the Maybe list.
The Creative One: Now it’s getting warmer. Shang Qinghua has always had a knack for stories, no matter how much his readers complain that he’s a terrible writer.
As Shang Qinghua is mapping out his very own university slice-of-life story, he fails to notice how the murmurs all around get a bit louder. He also fails to notice the steps that approach his table. He does not fail to flinch at the loud thud that suddenly comes from next to him as someone unceremoniously drops their bag on the chair.
Oh.
Someone decided to be his desk mate! Shang Qinghua does his best to not look too excited and uncool (difficult for someone who has “looking uncool” as his idle animation) as he turns to his first potential university acquaintance. Mentally, he’s already planned out their friendship – it’s going to be a bit hesitant at first while they get to know each other, but then an exciting event brings them closer together (he’s not yet decided on the event, but his stories always develop as he writes them). Ultimately, they become inseparable for life. It’s a solid first draft. Shang Qinghua adopts a smile while preparing to greet his neighbour with a “Hey, I’m Shang Qinghua!”
He gets to “He-“ before his neat little friendship-plotline gets ripped into shreds, thrown into the toilet, and flushed down the drain.
Because before Shang Qinghua stands his worst nightmare. His worst nightmare that, since their last meeting about three years ago, has somehow grown even taller, even broader, and even more annoyed with the world. He looks like he’s going for The Leader, The Athlete, and The Bully all at once (he’s also going for The Beautiful One, but Shang Qinghua would rather live on a secluded mountain without internet before he admits that).
He almost snaps his pen in half because before Shang Qinghua stands none other than Mobei fucking Jun, who is even more of a blight than Shen Yuan. Shang Qinghua’s already miserable middle school life was turned into hell by this absolute ice block of a person. And now this personified ice block is here, in his university, in his literature class, at his desk. The audacity! Shang Qinghua is this close to grabbing Mobei Jun’s bag and throwing it down on the floor, he really is! And if Mobei Jun weren’t so tall and mean-looking, he’d totally do it! But Mobei Jun is, in fact, very tall and very mean-looking, so Shang Qinghua settles on a glare. That’ll show him!
Or maybe not.
Mobei Jun just glances down at him and, in an unsurprising turn of events, doesn’t look fazed by Shang Qinghua’s death stare. He doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty about meeting the boy whose life he turned into an endless spiral of torment. He simply looks like he always did – impassive and mildly annoyed.
“Oh,” he says, and fuck did his voice ever get deeper. “Shang Qinghua, right?”
So he does remember the subject of his torture, he just chooses to act like nothing ever happened! Good! Great!!! Two can play this game.
“Yes,” Shang Qinghua fake-smiles. “And you are…?”
“Mobei Jun? We were desk mates in middle school.”
“Oooh,” Shang Qinghua says convincingly. “Yeah, right, I think I remember. You were the guy everyone was scared of, right?”
Mobei Jun’s perpetual frown deepens, and Shang Qinghua feels some righteous vindication. Unfortunately though, the jab does not deter Mobei Jun from sitting down. He unpacks his books and throws some pens on the table. One of which looks familiar. Very familiar. It invokes a terrible, terrible deja-vu in Shang Qinghua.
Then
Shang Qinghua lets his pen spin across his knuckles while he scrolls through the comment section of his latest chapter. Unrealistic character development. Pah! The whole point of this novel is to have the main guy get as strong as possible, who cares about his character? Plotholes everywhere. Plot??? Shang Qinghua didn’t realise he’d written one! What exactly was so hard to understand about the power-fantasy tag? His thumb stops its constant scrolling motion when he spots a familiar username. Shen Yuan’s comment is dripping sarcasm, and Shang Qinghua hopes he slipped on it. Why must his best friend consider himself a literature critic? And what is he doing in Shang Qinghua’s comment section? There’s no literature to be found here, only a good time. Before he has the chance to reply, the door to the room opens and the class quiets down. Shang Qinghua quickly pockets his phone before it can get confiscated again. When he looks up, he sees that the teacher isn’t alone. Next to her stands a tall boy with broad shoulders who looks like the most stereotypical athlete character ever. He looks also strikingly similar to one of the side characters in Shang Qinghua’s novel – the one hot villain he added for those who enjoy that kind of thing (Read: for himself. Shang Qinghua deserves a hot villain. As a treat.)
“Good morning, everyone,” the teacher says and smiles at the class. “Today we welcome a new student, who just transferred here from the north. Why don’t you introduce yourself, hm?”
The boy glances at her, then at the class, and then frowns. Come to think of it, he’s been frowning this entire time, really going for that hot villain look. Shang Qinghua is mildly intrigued and wonders if the boy is nervous, stern, or just rude.
“I’m Mobei Jun.” he says. The class looks at him expectantly, but after a few seconds it becomes apparent that Mobei Jun considers this as having fulfilled the objective of the quest “introduce yourself”.
The teacher nods and gestures to the class. “There are a few empty seats, you can choose whichever you like.”
Shang Qinghua, proud owner of an empty seat next to him, straightens a bit as he calculates the likeliness that the transmigrated villain of his novel is going to sit down next to him. There is a table right in the front – unlikely, types like Mobei Jun don’t go for the front of the class (and yes, Shang Qinghua is somewhat of an expert on this – he’s read plenty of school stories!). There’s also a table next to the window, but that seat is reserved for protagonists, and Mobei Jun is definitely not a protagonist. This leaves the chair next to Shang Qinghua and the one in the very back. Shang Qinghua decides spontaneously that he kind of wants Mobei Jun to sit next to him, simply because he seems so interesting.
In hindsight, this is the very moment in which Shang Qinghua sealed his fate and plunged himself into a dark abyss of his own making: He smiles at Mobei Jun and jerks his head towards the spot next to him.
Mobei Jun doesn’t show any indication that he even noticed the gesture, but he slings his bag over his shoulder and shuffles through the rows of tables. Shang Qinghua notices that he has to turn sideways at particularly narrow passages. Very interesting character. (Shallow? Shang Qinghua? So what if he is?) To his delight, Mobei Jun really does come over to his table! Shang Qinghua’s very own “befriend the mysterious transfer student” side plot can commence! Mobei Jun unceremoniously sits down without another look at Shang Qinghua and unpacks his books. Very mysterious. (And very pretty from this close. Shang Qinghua preens at his luck.)
“Alright!” The teacher claps her hands. “Shang Qinghua, please help Mobei Jun if he has any questions.”
“Sure!” Shang Qinghua says and nudges Mobei Jun with his shoulder. The look he gets for that makes him shrink back just a little.
“Uh…Hey! I’m Shang Qinghua.”
Mobei Jun nods and goes “Hm.” When he reaches over, Shang Qinghua briefly thinks he wants to shake hands. But then, Mobei Jun takes Shang Qinghua’s pen. Just like that. His favourite pen. The one that spins the best.
“Forgot mine,” Mobei Jun says, like that’s any justification to take Shang Qinghua’s favourite distraction from class. Shang Qinghua’s eyes follow his pen to Mobei Jun’s side of the table, where it’s not even used to take notes with. It just lays there. Unspinning. Shang Qinghua opens his mouth, about to ask for his pen back because what? The?? Hell???
“Shang Qinghua. I know you must find your new classmate interesting, but please pay attention to class,” the teacher says sternly. “And don’t distract Mobei Jun.”
And thus, dear reader, commences The Injustice To Shang Qinghua. This was the protagonist’s first encounter with his own personal demon.
Now
“And you’re sure you’re not being overdramatic?” Shen Yuan asks as he snatches a piece of beef tendon from Shang Qinghua’s place.
“What about this is being overdramatic?”
“Well, you just told me the heavens have sent their retribution to punish you for your vices – which is valid, your last chapter was honestly an insult to storytelling – and that you will be going into seclusion for the next ten years.”
“So? That’s not overdramatic. It’s the truth!” Shang Qinghua spears a mushroom with his chopstick and chews viciously. “And don’t talk shit about my novel.”
“And what exactly is this punishment? Just because some guy from middle school sits next to you, you’re going into emergency mode?”
“It’s not just some guy! It’s the worst bully you’ll ever encounter! Back then, he constantly followed me around to torment me! I didn’t get a single minute of peace!!!”
“Stop making your exclamation marks so audible, you know I hate that. And anyway, people change. Middle school students are especially stupid, surely he has matured.”
Shang Qinghua scoffs. “He would have apologised if he’d matured. But no, he pretended like nothing happened!”
“It was three years ago, Qinghua.”
“The wounds are still fresh!”
“Just get over it, maybe you’ll become friends.”
“I will have my justice!”
“Alright, well, can your justice wait until after lunch? I just came from an informatics lecture and my brain is still kind of fried. The system we’re using is terribly obscure.”
Shang Qinghua takes a deep breath and nods. “I don’t wanna think about him anyway. I don’t even know why he’s in the intro to literary studies class! He left school because he joined some national youth ice hockey team, what does he have to do with literature? Can he even read? I bet he can’t!”
Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “Don’t wanna think about him, huh?”
“Exactly! Just because he’s oh-so-athletic and oh-so-good-looking he thinks he can just do whatever he wants? But not this time! I won’t–“
“Binghe!” Suddenly, Shen Yuan waves at someone behind Shang Qinghua. “Sorry, Qinghua, I have to discuss something with him. I’ll see you in the dorm, alright?”
The blight on Shang Qinghua’s existence, who is also a massive traitor, grabs his tray and hurries over to a guy in black who looks like the remnants of his high school goth-phase are still clinging to him. Shang Qinghua glares at their retreating backs and decides to call the backstabbing eunuch in his novel Shen Yuan.
For now, he can only turn back to his plate and poke at the food as he indulges in self-pity. His arch-nemesis is back, he hasn’t made any friends yet, he hasn’t cultivated his new image, and there is beef tendon on his plate! He hates tendon! Just as he thinks that his day can’t possibly get any worse, someone sits down in front of him. And that someone is not a kind face looking to become Shang Qinghua’s new friend. Of course not, that would imply that fate favours Shang Qinghua. Instead, it laughs and slaps him in the face as it places a block of ice right in front of his nose. He wants to glare at him, but Shang Qinghua is still determined to treat Mobei Jun like he doesn’t care about him and their past at all, so he merely lifts an eyebrow.
“Did you want something?”
“All the other tables are full,” Mobei Jun grumbles without looking up and shoves a piece of pork into his mouth. Shang Qinghua glances around. Technically there are still some free places, but it’d make him look petty if he remarked that. And so he resorts to treating Mobei Jun with indifferent silence. Only that Shang Qinghua is very bad at silence, and after a few minutes he really can’t stand it anymore.
“What made you study literature?” he asks, as dismissively as possible.
“Had to choose an elective,” Mobei Jun replies in between bites of pork, still without looking up. Three years with very hot summers have apparently still not been enough to melt this literal block of ice. Shang Qinghua Mmhs and resists the urge to pry a bit more. He wants to hear how Mobei Jun’s time in the national youth ice hockey team was (wants to hear it was terrible and Mobei Jun was the worst player), but he also doesn’t want to show interest in a bully. Said bully now finally glances up and his eyes flicker to Shang Qinghua’s plate.
Oh no, Shang Qinghua thinks, oh no you won’t!
He does.
Reach over and take a piece of beef tendon, that is. He doesn’t even ask! He just takes it!! The nerve of this guy!!! This scene, too, drags to light one of Shang Qinghua’s long repressed memories.
Then
Shang Qinghua wonders how his life has gotten to this stage. This stage being the tenth level of hell, encrusted in a layer of ice. Responsible for this is none other than Mobei Jun, who has made it a quest on his journey through middle school to be Shang Qinghua’s personal tyrant. No matter where he goes, Mobei Jun is there to torment him. He just won’t leave him alone!
Even now, as Shang Qinghua stands in line for lunch, Mobei Jun is a threatening presence behind him. It squashes even the last remnants of Shang Qinghua’s hope to ever make friends, because everyone is scared of Mobei Jun and gives him a wide berth. It must be one of Mobei Jun’s goals, to completely isolate Shang Qinghua. The only plus side to this is that the teacher praised Shang Qinghua for taking such good care of the transfer student. Hah! As if this transfer student needed taking care of. It’s Shang Qinghua who needs the care! Care, and maybe a restraining order against bullies. He looks at the plate the canteen-lady places on his tray and curses under his breath.
“Beef tendon, of course! Because this day wasn’t bad enough yet!”
He resolutely ignores Mobei Jun as he walks to a table, but of course that doesn’t deter the other, who unprompted sits down opposite of him. One of these days! One of these days, Shang Qinghua is going to give him a piece of his mind! He just has to wait for the right opportunity. Like for example for when Mobei Jun has a cold and is a bit weakened. Then again, the ice block called Mobei Jun is probably incapable of catching a cold.
He probably sleeps in the freezer, Shang Qinghua muses while he pokes around in his food. When he glances up, he finds Mobei Jun staring back and just knows he’s getting ready to bully Shang Qinghua again. He’s proven right a moment later, when Mobei Jun reaches over and takes food right off of Shang Qinghua’s plate. Just like that! Without asking! The absolute state of this dude! Shang Qinghua can only stare disbelievingly as Mobei Jun eats his beef tendon.
One of these days!! One of these days, Shang Qinghua will get vengeance.
Now
Three years later, Shang Qinghua is sad to report that he still has not gotten his vengeance. The only thing he does have is a steadily increasing level of frustration. That, and the sudden attention and interest of his classmates.
It’s in his class on literary classics that the usually empty seat next to him is suddenly occupied, and this time not by that demon called Mobei Jun. Instead, a girl sits down and smiles at him. Shang Qinghua wonders if she mistook him for someone, but considering how close she is the girl would have to be incredibly near-sighted.
“Hey!” she says, and it’s clearly directed at Shang Qinghua.
“Hey?” he replies and considers the probability of her being a psychopath. Considering the track-record of Shang Qinghua’s desk mates, it’s at about 76%.
“I’m Sha Hualing. Nice to meet you.”
Shang Qinghua nods slowly. A few moments pass in silence. Then, Sha Hualing leans over.
“Say…” she drawls and taps a long fingernail against the desk. “You know Mobei Jun, right?”
Shang Qinghua bristles at the mention of the name. “What of him?”
“Oooh, I was just wondering.” Sha Hualing smiles devilishly, and it makes Shang Qinghua think that she and Mobei Jun would probably get along well. It annoys him. For the sole reason that he doesn’t want to Mobei Jun to get along well with anyone! He should be lonely and miserable!!! “Where do you know him from?”
“We were classmates in middle school,” Shang Qinghua mumbles, suddenly not at all excited about someone talking to him anymore. Of course he knows he’s not very interesting, but why do people want to talk about Mobei Jun with him?! Great, even his social interactions are ruined by Mobei Jun!
“Was he like this back then as well?”
Cold, mean, and dumb? “Yes!” Shang Qinghua says with gusto.
“Amazing! He’s so cool, mysterious, and dangerous! A famous ice hockey player, at this age! I heard the university all but begged him to join the team, and he’s already their best player!”
Of course the horrible, arrogant, aloof, mysterious, tall, muscular, attractive – Shang Qinghua briefly loses his train of thought and forcefully drags it back on track – jerk called Mobei Jun would be popular. But only because these people don’t know him like Shang Qinghua knows him – as a mean bully. A mean bully who, for some reason, decided that Shang Qinghua is his favourite victim (granted, Shang Qinghua is small, weak, and honestly? Kind of pathetic, but still! That’s not an excuse! No victim-blaming!). Just this morning, for example, Mobei Jun sat down next to him again, and the first thing he asked was, “Are you still alone all the time?”
The words stung him a bit – so what if he’s a loner?
Excuse you? Shang Qinghua wanted to say. It’s your fault that no one else dares to come here, you demon of a man!
“I’m here to learn,” he said. “Not to make friends.”
Mobei Jun hummed. Then, after a good five minutes, he said, “Wanna hang out after school?”
Shang Qinghua almost choked on his spit. Hang out. With Mobei Jun. To what, deliver himself to his own doom like a hamster jumping in a wolf’s den?
“I’m kind of busy.”
“Oh.”
Shang Qinghua almost expected Mobei Jun to force him to hang out, like he did so often in the past. But fortunately, he let it go after that.
“-y? Hey??”
Shang Qinghua looks up. Right, he’s still having a conversation.
“Do you know what he likes outside of hockey?” Sha Hualing asks.
“Why are you asking me? If he’s so great, maybe you should talk to him.”
Sha Hualing giggles. “I wouldn’t dare. Come on, there must be something!”
“I don’t know! Boxing, I guess?” And Shang Qinghua should know. He has been Mobei Jun’s punching bag more than once.
Then
Shang Qinghua sits on the stone steps, legs crossed at the ankles and sun warming his skin. It’s a great summer’s day for pretending to have a sprained ankle. This is a plot long in the making – it started with Shang Qinghua doing some thigh-hugging with the physical education instructor (you know, cleaning up equipment after the lesson ended, laughing at his dumb jokes, the whole shebang), continued with him pretending to stumble over a stray basketball, and ended with him being excused for the next week of physical education because of his poor, poor ankle.
That’s what led him here, sitting underneath the warm sun while his fellow students are on the second round of dodgeball. It’s not that Shang Qinghua doesn’t enjoy physical activity – he likes it! A lot, even. It gets his creativity flowing and he always gets the best ideas when he’s in some way active. What he doesn’t like, however, is having others see him being active. And that’s because Shang Qinghua is embarrassingly inelegant. Everything he does looks clumsy and amateurish. He can’t even run properly. Once, he overheard a group of students mocking the way he walked (he does not walk like a hamster in a wheel, thank you very much!).
So. Shang Qinghua takes every excuse he can get to not participate in physical education. It’s fine, he’ll just walk home and get his daily dose of exercise that way. He tilts back and lets the sun warm his skin, thoroughly enjoying the afternoon. He’s just thinking about whether or not the hot villain of his story is going to make it through the next arc alive when suddenly a shadow falls over him, taking away light and warmth. And who could it be other than Shang Qinghua’s least favourite icicle?
He squints up at Mobei Jun’s tall form that’s looming over him.
Oooh! Shang Qinghua thinks. So this is how the protagonist feels when the villain is threatening him. Good reference!
But instead of thanking Mobei Jun for the inspiration, Shang Qinghua crosses his arms. “What?”
“Why are you sitting here?”
“Sorry, I didn’t know you owned these stairs.” The words left him before Shang Qinghua could stop them, and he instantly wants to gather them up and stuff them back into his stupid, stupid mouth. Mobei Jun’s passively threatening expression turns actively threatening, and for a moment Shang Qinghua is convinced he’ll get beaten up. During the three seconds his and Mobei Jun’s eyes are locked, Shang Qinghua’s narratology-proficient mind comes up with a reasonable plot, which has him accept Mobei Jun’s punches, losing a tooth for the bad route and getting a cool scar for the good route, then gets found by a teacher who takes him to the principal, where he tells the tragic story behind his injuries and gets Mobei Jun expelled. It’s a good story, in Shang Qinghua’s humble opinion – he especially likes the ending.
Unfortunately though, Mobei Jun doesn’t raise his fist. He just crosses his arms, raises an eyebrow, and keeps looking at Shang Qinghua with that expectant frown. Hah! As if Shang Qinghua is going to cave and answer just because of a menacing glare!
“I hurt my ankle.” Okay, a bit of caving is fine. He didn’t tell the truth anyway.
Mobei Jun glances at where Shang Qinghua’s foot is propped up on the step, ankle bent at a sharp angle. His silent gaze returns to Shang Qinghua and somehow conveys the exact sentiment of “Bro.”
“Fine,” Shang Qinghua says loftily, not sure why Mobei Jun is so insistent on having this conversation. What’s it to him anyway??? “I’m just not in the mood for dodgeball. I’ll get hit during the first two seconds anyway, so I might as well save everyone the trouble.”
It’s amazing, really, how different the many frowns of Mobei Jun are from each other. It now shifts to one that looks a bit calculating, mixed with a healthy portion of judgement. Suddenly, long fingers close around Shang Qinghua’s wrist.
“Come with me,” Mobei Jun says and, without using much strength (or any strength at all, from the look of it), yanks Shang Qinghua to his feet. As he’s being dragged along, Shang Qinghua refuses to acknowledge how fragile his wrist looks in Mobei Jun’s large hand, and how the sight makes heat rise into his cheeks (heat out of fear, okay? Not the other kind!!!).
-
Mobei Jun is, without a doubt, the worst person ever. What kind of sick and twisted enjoyment he gets from this, Shang Qinghua doesn’t know and doesn’t care to know. All he wants is to return to the safety of the solid, unslippery ground around the ice rink. But for that he would have to get there, which is something out of the realm of the possible. Right now, he’s standing right in the middle of the frozen surface and wonders if he’ll make it out of this with at least one or two bones intact.
“Come on. Just take a step.” Mobei Jun is a few metres away from him and watching expectantly.
Just take a step, Shang Qinghua parrots in his mind and sticks out his tongue in Mobei Jun’s direction. The other blends in perfectly with his surroundings – just as cold, hard, and unyielding as the ice. Shang Qinghua told him that he’s not the best at coordination, and what does Mobei Jun do? Takes him to the ice rink, where coordination and dexterity are key. He must truly love torturing Shang Qinghua.
“You simply have to push yourself forward,” Mobei Jun says. “It’s really not difficult.”
Not difficult for a professional hockey player! Shang Qinghua wants to yell, but Mobei Jun is his only source of safety on the ice. Which, in hindsight, is a contradiction in and of itself.
“Fine!” Shang Qinghua hisses. If he falls and breaks some bones, at least he can push the blame to Mobei Jun. He lifts a foot off the ice and takes a small step forward. The blade glides forward and Shang Qinghua immediately lets out an embarrassing squeak as he loses his balance and falls on his poor behind.
“You need to be more determined,” Mobei Jun says while he watches on impassively as Shang Qinghua struggles back up to his feet. “If you’re this nervous, you’re only turning yourself into your own obstacle.”
“Terribly sorry, I’ll try my best to not be a complete failure!” Shang Qinghua snaps and, in a frustrated fit, pushes himself forward. His body lurches at the unfamiliar motion and Shang Qinghua waves his arms around to not fall down again. Great, just what he needed – to look even more foolish than usual! The blade catches against something and Shang Qinghua instinctively closes his eyes as he tilts precariously to the side. Before he can fall, he bumps against a solid resistance and two arms wrap around him to steady him.
“You’re not a complete failure,” says the stern voice of Mobei Jun right next to his ear. “You just need a bit of confidence.”
Shang Qinghua, nose pressed against Mobei Jun’s chest and dignity scattered all over the ice, only barely resists the urge to push Mobei Jun away. Mainly because that would be more hurtful to himself.
“Great, getting confidence by making a fool of myself will definitely work!” he bites out. Mobei Jun this absolute bastard! Shang Qinghua will get justice!
Now
“Morning.”
Shang Qinghua almost startles. No one has ever greeted him in class. But when he looks up, of course it’s just Mobei Jun, that jerk. Though Shang Qinghua has to admit that he’s suspiciously tame these days. He hasn’t done anything to embarrass Shang Qinghua, nor has he dragged him off to do some weird sports activities. He also hasn’t eaten any more of his food, nor taken anything of his without permission. He’s probably planning something big.
Shang Qinghua lets out a grunt that might count as a greeting, and continues to write in his notebook. A few moments of silence pass. He glances at Mobei Jun from the corner of his eyes and sees the other sitting rigidly in his chair, hand curled into a fist atop the table. He looks tense, and Shang Qinghua wonders what’s his deal is. Suddenly, Mobei Jun speaks up.
“Do you have time after school?”
Immediately suspicious, Shang Qinghua narrows his eyes. “Why?”
“There is this cart outside of school selling Jianbing. Maybe you want one?”
Shang Qinghua narrows his eyes further, until Mobei Jun’s pretty, annoying face turns slightly blurry. “Why would I want that?” Does Mobei Jun intend to poison him? Does he know of Shang Qinghua’s shellfish allergy?
“Don’t you…like them?”
Yeah, okay, Shang Qinghua does like them, but that’s not the point here!
“Well, I don’t have time anyway,” he says and demonstratively turns back to his notebook. It’s very satisfying for his ego, to be the haughty and distant one in this conversation.
“Do you still like writing?” Mobei Jun asks. Why is he so intent on talking to Shang Qinghua? Ah, he must be trying to distract him from his writing! Yeah, that’s probably it. Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes at so much pettiness.
“Yeah.”
“Is it for your web novel?”
Shang Qinghua freezes.
No.
Oh no.
It’s over. He’s done for.
How does Mobei Jun even know about this? It’s Shang Qinghua’s most well-kept secret, no one besides Shen Yuan knows about this! But of course this asshole would dig around and search for the most embarrassing thing to expose Shang Qinghua with. Well, looks like Shang Qinghua is changing universities! Maybe countries, depending on who Mobei Jun tells about the fact that Shang Qinghua likes to write filthy porn and cliché stories online.
Mobei Jun doesn’t elaborate, probably enjoying the impact his words had. Shang Qinghua resolutely does not look up and only makes a “Mhhmhm” sound.
Luckily, Mobei Jun doesn’t pursue the topic. Not like he needs to – the damage to Shang Qinghua’s psyche has been done. He stares down at the page without being able to write a single character.
“Who did you tell?” he presses out, even though it means he’s giving Mobei Jun the panicked reaction he’s probably been hoping for.
“Tell?” Mobei Jun sounds surprised. Well, as surprised as a block of ice can sound. “No one, why would I?”
Yeah, sure. No one, Shang Qinghua scoffs mentally. He just wants to keep Shang Qinghua fretting!!
“You wrote a lot back then. I remember the way your stuff sounds.”
Shang Qinghua’s panic briefly halts as he tries to remember when Mobei Jun read any of his texts. And then it comes back to him.
Then
“Hey. What are you writing again?” Mobei Jun asks as he noisily sits down next to Shang Qinghua and glances over. Shang Qinghua immediately covers the sheet with his arm, extremely miffed at getting interrupted just as he’s getting to the good part. The good part being his protagonist finally getting railed after 20k characters.
“Nothing for you.”
“It’s break. Why are you writing? Everyone else is outside.” Mobei Jun nods towards the windows, which present the view of the beautiful, clear blue sky.
“And?”
“You should join them. Get some fresh air, find some friends. Don’t waste your time in here alone.”
Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes. Mobei Jun just loves to remind him that he’s a shut-in with no friends. He almost doesn’t care anymore.
“I like writing. It’s not a waste of time for me.”
Mobei Jun turns quiet, and when Shang Qinghua glances at him, he finds the other in thought.
“Oh,” he says eventually. “I see.”
As if Mobei Jun would understand. He spends all his time training, and having others watch and gush about him training (Shang Qinghua watched once, but his traitorous mind was getting swayed by Mobei Jun’s powerful movements and strong muscles, and he doesn’t want to think anything positive about his bully).
“You can leave. No need to waste your time in here.” Shang Qinghua hopes Mobei Jun will get the hint. Of course the stupid ice-block-head does nothing of the sort.
“Nah. I gotta do my Chinese homework anyway.” He rummages through his bag and pulls out an ill-treated, crumpled notebook. Shang Qinghua turns back to writing, purposely turning in a way that blocks the view of his paper from Mobei Jun.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“You said you like writing, didn’t you?”
“And?”
A large hand enters Shang Qinghua’s vision, strong yet slender fingers pushing over a notebook. His eyes wander over the hand and the connecting wrist, following veins up a strong arm and eventually landing on Mobei Jun’s face.
“You can write for me. I don’t like it that much.”
What. The. Fuck.
“You want me to do your homework for you?” Shang Qinghua asks disbelievingly. Wow. This is a new low, even for Mobei Jun. Now he’s forcing Shang Qinghua to do his homework? Well, technically he didn’t force him, but!!! As if Shang Qinghua is going to decline, with the treat of that strong arm so close to his own frail body ("Did you mean: threat?" Shang Qinghua's inner spell-checking system supplies, and he hastily changes the grave mistake).
“Fine,” he hisses, and snatches the notebook from Mobei Jun. “Fine. I’ll write your homework.”
Mobei Jun looks mildly confused. “I mean, if you don’t–“
But Shang Qinghua stopped listening. He doesn’t want to hear another word from this jerk’s mouth!
Now
Miraculously, Shang Qinghua’s reputation is still doing fine. Well, it hasn’t gotten worse, anyway. Which means Mobei Jun actually didn’t tell anyone about his secret. Does he intend to blackmail Shang Qinghua later on? Just in case, Shang Qinghua hasn’t updated his latest story, Crazy Magic Fairy Road, in three days. His readers are getting very impatient, but the newest chapter includes some very explicit and very, very problematic stuff, so for now Shang Qinghua is on a Mobei-Jun-induced hiatus.
Mobei Jun himself is unfortunately not on hiatus. He’s still hovering around in Shang Qinghua’s periphery like a particularly clingy demon. It’s not as bad as back then in middle school (Mobei Jun was all but stuck to him, like one of those clingy love interests in a romance drama, but the evil version), but still irritating.
Especially so in their shared class, where Mobei Jun sits right next to him to distract Shang Qinghua with his presence alone. It’s really unfair how he’s become even more imposing. When the summer’s heat prompts Mobei Jun to get rid of his jacket, Shang Qinghua needs to actively keep his eyes in front of him so they don’t veer to the side to take in Mobei Jun’s broad chest and muscled arms. Not because Shang Qinghua is interested or anything, but because Mobei Jun is perfect reference material for his story.
He’s not the only one who’s getting distracted. In fact, Shang Qinghua noticed an increasing number of students “accidentally” coming to their class. Their eyes immediately glue themselves to Mobei Jun as soon as they enter, and they hover around whispering and giggling until the professor’s arrival makes them leave. Mobei Jun never pays them any attention at all – gods, Shang Qinghua wishes that was him. He’s seemingly the only one Mobei Jun ever gives any attention to, even though he wants none of it.
Like right now. It’s still half an hour until class starts and Shang Qinghua arrived in the room early for some peace and quiet, only to find that the source of all his unpeace and unquiet already occupied the table.
He distinctly feels Mobei Jun’s eyes on him while Shang Qinghua is texting Shen Yuan, who just stood him up for their weekly gaming night.
Me (14:32)
dude wtf ure leaving me hanging??
in this economy???
cucumber bro (14:33)
You’re being dramatic again. It’s Binghe’s only night off and I haven’t seen him in 5 days.
Me (14:33)
then whose shoulder m i supposed to cry on ah? im losing it over here bro
cucumber bro (14:35)
Your middle school sweetheart again? I keep telling you you’re overreacting! He doesn’t seem bad at all, and he didn’t even do anything to you?
Me (14:35)
YET!!!!!
hes waiting for an opportunity i just no it
cucumber bro (14:36)
I’m going to say something controversial yet brave.
How about you talk to him? Maybe there’s a misunderstanding somewhere in this whole thing. I’ve heard this communication-thing works pretty well.
Me (14:37)
bro
bro
have u learned nothing from my novels? communications a myth invented by functioning members of society
cucumber bro (14:37)
You do you, Airplane. Just don’t come running to me when you realise too late your engine caught on fire and you regret not checking it earlier.
Me (14:37)
the hells that even supposed 2 mean
Shang Qinghua stares at the screen, but no answer arrives. He tsks and slams his phone on the table. Stupid Shen Yuan! First he stands him up, then he takes the side of Mobei Jun, then he leaves him on read! Shang Qinghua hopes he gets his cucumber stuck in a door!
“Everything alright?”
Shang Qinghua bristles at the stupid question from stupid Mobei Jun who is definitely not misunderstood and just stupid.
“Why wouldn’t it be? I’m perfectly fine!”
“You look a bit annoyed.”
“No, really? I hadn’t realised! Maybe because my one friend decided his new flame is more important than our gaming night!” The words are out before Shang Qinghua can stop them. The frown on Mobei Jun’s face turns a little uncertain, which only adds fuel to the fire of Shang Qinghua’s irritation. “What’s that look for?”
“I’m just–“
“Happy that I’m spending my evening all alone and miserable in my room?”
“What?” The frown is back in full-force. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Sure, you secretly want to see me happy! That’s why you spent the entirety of middle school bullying me!”
“Bullying?” For once, the frown completely vanishes off of Mobei Jun’s face. Instead, he looks stunned. Or pretends to, at least. “I bullied you?”
That’s the final drop that makes Shang Qinghua’s anger overflow. He slams his hands on the table and jumps to his feet. “You’re honestly just the worst, you know that?” he yells and then, like the scorned love interest of a harem novel, dramatically storms out of the room. Somewhere amidst his fury, the scene reminds him of an event from the past.
Then
Shang Qinghua is immersed in the first chapter of the new novel from his rival author Sleeping Willow's Flower, when suddenly he hears his name. He glances up, but the corridor before him is empty. When he looks around and out the window, he sees a group of his classmates idling around in the shade of a tree.
“Him? Hmm, I don’t know. He’s always so quiet and withdrawn, I don’t think he’d like getting invited,” one of the boys says.
“You could still ask him, maybe he’ll come.”
A girl snickers. “It could be funny, actually! He’s super clumsy. Do you remember the time the strap of his bag was stuck under the table, and he almost gave himself a concussion when he yanked and the table fell on him?”
The group laughs and Shang Qinghua feels an uncomfortable sting in his chest. He knows that he’s not really a part of the class community, but having it spelled out like this hits different. He quickly steps away from the window before anyone can see him, but for the fraction of a heartbeat before he turns around, his eyes lock with another pair. Mobei Jun looks up at him with his characteristic frown. Shang Qinghua hastily retreats and hopes Mobei Jun didn’t recognise him – he’d definitely make fun of it.
He hurries around the corner, desperate to just get away from it all, to a quiet place where he can suppress his emotions in peace, and bumps against something.
“Shang Qinghua.”
Great. Just what he needed, because he hasn’t lost enough face already. He forces an impassive expression on his face and steps back.
“Oh, it’s you. Wow, you’re fast. What do you want?”
Mobei Jun looks down at him. “Are you alright?”
“Fantastic! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“What they said…”
They. As if Mobei Jun didn’t happily participate in making fun of Shang Qinghua.
“I really couldn’t care less. And I’ve got stuff to do, so if you please…” he gestures for Mobei Jun to make way, but the other doesn’t move.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Shang Qinghua’s eyebrows shoot up. But he really shouldn’t be surprised – of course Mobei Jun would jump at the chance to ridicule him to his face.
“Shang Qinghua, I actually…you know, I think you’re…”
“Save it.” Shang Qinghua says. Suddenly he’s very, very tired. “Whatever you want to say, I’ve probably heard it before. Just leave me in peace. At least today.”
He pushes past Mobei Jun, half-expecting to be held back. But as he walks down the corridor, instead of Mobei Jun’s hand around his wrist, he only feels his gaze against his back.
Now
Shang Qinghua vindictively clicks the “Publish” button, releasing his problematic brainchild into the cold harsh world for wannabe web novel critics to tear apart. So what if people find out he’s writing stallion novels? He stopped caring about others’ opinions long ago. He leans back in his chair and drapes an arm over his face.
I bullied you?
The nerve of this guy, honestly! As if he didn’t know exactly what he was, is, and will continue doing to Shang Qinghua! Mobei Jun is truly the worst. All those good looks, and for what? He’s like one of those poisonous animals that look all pretty on the outside, waiting for their prey to drop their guard, and then consume them! And those fools that dreamily gaze after him have all been fooled! Shang Qinghua is truly the only sensible one around here!!!
Maybe there’s a misunderstanding somewhere in this whole thing.
As if. Shen Yuan is even dumber than previously assumed if he truly considers that there is more to Mobei Jun than just being a general jerk. Time and time again he made Shang Qinghua’s life harder than it already was, and said things that made Shang Qinghua even more miserable than he already was. No, he’s never going to forgive Mobei Jun! Not in this life, and also not in the next. Even if they transmigrate into one of Shang Qinghua’s own novels as love interests, he’s still going to hate him!
A knock at the door interrupts Shang Qinghua’s determined inner monologue.
He lifts his arm a fraction and looks at the door from the corners of his eyes. Did Shen Yuan come crawling back after all, realising Shang Qinghua is far better company than that simp Luo Binghe? (Even though Shang Qinghua’s company these days consists mostly of whining and complaining.) (Justified whining and complaining.) He grins to himself, mentally preparing an “I told you so” speech as he slinks towards the door. He grabs the handle, takes a deep breath, adopts his most arrogant expression, and yanks open the door.
“Well, well, well, look who came crawling ba-“ His words trail off.
There is no Shen Yuan on the other side of the door – unless, of course, Shen Yuan hit a spontaneous growth spurt and gained about 20kg of pure muscle mass.
Mobei Jun’s scowl is even fiercer than usual when he stares down at Shang Qinghua, and he thinks alright, this is it, he’s finally going to get that beating he’s been expecting from Mobei Jun ever since middle school. Even though Shang Qinghua wants nothing more than to act all brave and heroic in the face of villainy, he subconsciously shrinks back and averts his eyes like a hamster before a bird of prey. But surprisingly, Mobei Jun doesn’t force his way inside the room. After a few beats of silence, that manage to crank Shang Qinghua’s anxiousness up to 99, Mobei Jun takes a deep breath.
“Are you scared of me?”
Shang Qinghua looks up. There Mobei Jun stands – looms, more like – about a whole head taller than Shang Qinghua, shoulders broad, exposed forearms muscled, gaze stormy, and asks if Shang Qinghua is scared of him.
Some idiot in the background laughs hysterically, and it takes a while for Shang Qinghua to notice said idiot is him.
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“So you’re not?”
The irritation Shang Qinghua managed to get rid of while posting his chapter comes back with a vengeance. “Oh course I am! That’s what you want to hear, right? That pathetic little Shang Qinghua is scared? Are you happy now?”
But Mobei Jun doesn’t look happy – the opposite, really. The corners of his mouth drop even further.
“Why?”
“Wh- WHY?” Shang Qinghua splutters. “You spent the entirety of middle school bullying me and you ask me why I’m scared of you?”
“I didn’t bully you,” Mobei Jun says and for the first time, the impassive tone he always speaks with makes way for urgency. “What makes you think that?”
Shang Qinghua is going to spit blood. So Mobei Jun wants to have it spelled out, huh? Good. Very good! Shang Qinghua is great at spelling!!!
“Why don’t we start with the first day we met then! You sat down next to me with your- your-“ he gestures the shape of a large wardrobe. “your muscles, and your height, and you steal my favourite pen! I’ve had that pen since elementary school! I wrote my first novel with that pen! And you – what are you doing?”
Mobei Jun is rummaging through his bag, scattering empty bottles and crumpled papers over the ground before he reaches out and hands something to Shang Qinghua.
Shang Qinghua stares down at the thin object in his hands.
It’s a pen.
His pen.
“What…”
“I thought-“ Mobei Jun clears his throat. “Isn’t that how you make friends? Friends share things. So if you want to make a friend, you just…take their stuff and give them yours?”
Shang Qinghua slowly raises his head and gapes at the guy before him who just expressed the mentality of a kindergarten kid with the seriousness of a grown man.
“You wanted to make friends with me. Yeah sure. Do you really think I’m that stupid? You always took my food! Even now! Even now!!!” He jabs his finger accusingly against Mobei Jun’s chest and Oh, Big Mistake. That is one very firm chest. But Shang Qinghua has a point to make. “You still eat my food! And you don’t give me yours, so don’t give me that sharing bullshit!”
“But you don’t like beef tendon. Or broccoli.”
Shang Qinghua pauses and thinks back to all the instances Mobei Jun sat down with him and took food off his plate.
…
…
“Well, how would you know??”
Mobei Jun breaks eye-contact and stares down at his feet. “You said so. And you…You always left them on the plate before.”
Shang Qinghua’s blazing fury mellows down a little. What the hell is going on here? The word misunderstanding bounces back and forth in his head. Did Mobei Jun actually…? But no! No!! Shang Qinghua will not get swayed like all those other fools!
“Then why did you always force me to make a fool of myself, ah?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Where’s the explanation for that? You constantly dragged me off to do gods-know-what dumb sports! You made me ice skate, knowing full well I have two left feet!”
“I didn’t mean to-“
“Everyone made fun of me, but you really went all the way!”
“It wasn’t-“
“The amount of bruises I got because of that! Was it fun, to see me stumble about?”
“NO!”
Shang Qinghua flinches when Mobei Jun’s deep voice raises in volume, and he wonders if there is an integrated bass booster in Mobei Jun’s throat.
“No,” he repeats, more quietly now. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Or make you hurt. But you were always so self-conscious and hesitant. I just wanted…to give you some confidence.”
“Confidence?” Shang Qinghua echoes incredulously. “How am I supposed to get confidence from…” he trails off. Mobei Jun had dragged him to the ice rink often back then, so much that eventually, Shang Qinghua noticed some progress. Eventually, he could stand on his own two feet, even glide over the ice without falling. And, even though he’d never admit it, it became kind of fun. He didn’t feel as clumsy as he did with other sports.
But!
As if it was Mobei Jun’s intention to give him confidence! Hah! As if!
“And did you also want to give me confidence when you made me do your homework? Again and again I had to write your Chinese essays for you!”
“But you said you liked it!”
What the fuck? What the fuck??? When did Shang Qinghua ever say he liked writing Mobei Jun’s essays?
“Now you’re just lying!”
“’I like writing,’ is what you said. So, I thought…”
Shang Qinghua opens his mouth to argue some more, then closes it again. He did say that, he supposes. But where in Mobei Jun’s book does “I like writing” equal “I like writing other people’s homework”??? This is what is called a misunderstanding, Shen Yuan’s helpful voice says in Shang Qinghua’s head. He shuts it up. And anyway, there is still one thing, one final thing that proves 100% that Mobei Jun has been bullying Shang Qinghua, and that there is not a single misunderstanding here!
“So let’s assume I buy all those bad ‘I just wanted to help you’ tales. Which are really bad, by the way. Super cliché and predictable, you won’t get any readers with those. You still threatened me! You still intended to blackmail me!”
Mobei Jun’s shoulders sag and for a brief moment, he looks lost. How an almost 2m tall guy with the countenance of an especially frigid ice cube can look lost is beyond Shang Qinghua, but Mobei Jun manages it.
“When did I threaten you?”
Shang Qinghua scoffs. “Don’t pretend it isn’t so. You deliberately told me that you know I write web novels! You want to expose my secret!”
“It’s a secret that you write the novels?” Mobei Jun asks. He’s a remarkable actor – he sounds legitimately confused.
“No, I run around telling everyone that I love to write bad stallion novels in my free time! How did you even know about that? Are you so desperate to make my life hell that you searched the internet for dirt on me?”
“What, no! I read them.”
Shang Qinghua’s anger-fuelled brain skitters to a halt with a cartoonish screech noise. “What?”
“I always keep up with your novels.”
Shang Qinghua completely deflates. There’s nothing left of his anger, his indignancy, his righteous fury. There’s not even confusion. His whole head is empty save for a single sentence. I always keep up with your novels. And Mobei Jun still isn’t done.
“I didn’t know it was a secret. I thought you were proud of them. They’re…they’re good novels.”
He’s joking. He’s making fun of Shang QInghua. There is no other explanation for it. He’s probably filming all this to expose him in the most embarrassing way possible. But then why does he look so honest??
“When I clicked on the novel, I recognised your style from back then.”
Shang Qinghua wishes Mobei Jun would shut up. His brain is already fried, and every word from Mobei Jun makes it worse.
“I even left you comments. Lord of the Deserted North.”
Like the distressed courtesan in his latest novel, Shang Qinghua crumples to the ground. His legs give out from underneath him and his knees hit the floor. Mobei Jun makes a surprised noise and lunges forward, but too late. They both end up kneeling in front of each other.
Shang Qinghua and his greatest source of motivation, that is.
Lord of the Deserted North is by far his favourite reader. They leave very short and very to-the-point comments about how much they liked the newest chapter, which, for some reason, always gives Shang Qinghua a boost of inspiration.
“Are you okay?” Mobei Jun asks. His hands are on Shang Qinghua’s shoulders. Their grip is surprisingly gentle.
“Peachy,” Shang Qinghua squeaks.
“Are you sure?”
“I spent the past years living one of those dumb misunderstanding plots I hate, I’m doing great! Perfectly fine!”
“Sorry? I didn’t mean to make you think I was bullying you.”
“Yeah. Hah.” Shang Qinghua feels like the upside-down smiling emoji. He reaches out to push Mobei Jun’s hands from his shoulders, but in the process he ends up patting Mobei Jun’s bicep and gets a bit distracted. So they just stay kneeling on the floor.
“Say, Mobei Jun…” Shang Qinghua says slowly, because amidst all the shock and confusion and having his worldview completely shattered, a thought emerges. “Does this mean you voluntarily read stallion novels in your free time?”
“Yes?” Mobei Jun says, not the least bit embarrassed. “But yours are the only ones that are truly good.” He says it so plainly. So honestly. Fuck, Shang Qinghua’s getting that warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest that the love interests in his novels get when the protagonist looks at them. He lets out a shaky laugh.
“You’re the worst, Mobei Jun.”
“Wha- Why am I still the worst?”
“I thought I was bad at social interaction! But you! You wanted to make friends by stealing! Who does that?”
“I already told you-“
“Anyway!” Shang Qinghua doesn’t let him finish. He feels giddy. He’s never gotten the chance to write from experience due to being generally boring, but now an opportunity presents itself right in front of him on a silver platter! An icy cold, frowning silver platter. “How do you intend to make it up to me?”
“Make it…up to you?”
“You could buy me lunch, for starters. You already know what I like and don’t like. Should be easy, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you want to help out your favourite author, Airplane Shooting Across the Sky? You can provide some excellent reference material by taking me out on a date. That way I can write romance even better.”
Mobei Jun goes still, just like an actual ice statue. “Date?” Suddenly it’s him who looks foolish and confused, not Shang Qinghua (okay, Mobei Jun’s foolishness and confusion still looks hot, but that’s beside the point).
“Date. But it has to be well planned. Romantic. Exciting. I need good reference material.” Shang Qinghua stands up and dusts off his pants. “Maybe I’ll even give your novel-self a good ending. As a reward.” He reaches out a hand for Mobei Jun to take. Mobei Jun stares at it wide-eyed. He tentatively places his hand on Shang Qinghua’s palm and – okay. Okay, bad idea. Even if there were three Shang Qinghuas, they still wouldn’t manage to pull Mobei Jun to his feet. But surprisingly, Mobei Jun stands up by himself, without letting go of the hand or causing Shang Qinghua to fall.
“You wrote me into your novel?”
“Of course, I always write real-life people into my novel. Shen Yuan is the backstabbing eunuch. Luo Binghe is the idiot servant. You’re the evil villain.”
Mobei Jun thinks for a while. “The one with ‘a strong jaw and rippling muscles, exuding an air of dominance that makes others tremble with different emotions’?”
Shang Qinghua cringes. “That one description was just for fan service, in reality the villain is ugly.”
“’Deep blue eyes with a piercing gaze, sharp cheekbones, flowing black hair and skin like white jade’ doesn’t sound like the description of an ugly character.”
“Suddenly everyone’s a critic!” Shang Qinghua snaps and yanks his hand from Mobei Jun. “Who died and made you king of literature?”
“I know stuff. I’m even attending a class.”
Shang Qinghua scoffs and marches out of his dorm room. He needs food. Mobei Jun follows him. It feels familiar, but not in an uncomfortable way.
“Why on earth are you even in that class? You said it yourself, back then. You don’t like writing.”
Mobei Jun turns quiet. He still hasn’t answered after they’ve turned the corner, and Shang Qinghua doubts he will do so in the near future. But he’s proven wrong yet again when he hears some mumbled words.
“What was that?”
“Because of you,” Mobei Jun says, more clearly this time.
Shang Qinghua pauses mid-step. He slowly turns around and sees Mobei Jun, almost 2m tall, broad, intimidating Mobei Jun, standing in the corridor looking like a shy highschooler who just confessed to his crush.
“I saw you during orientation and heard you’re majoring in literature, so I thought it’d be a good opportunity to talk to you again. I didn’t expect you to hate me. I always thought we were…friends…or something…”
Oh.
Oh. (This is Shang Qinghua, having a cliché Oh-In-Italics moment.)
Mobei Jun is a shy highschooler who just confessed to his crush.
Mobei Jun also thought Shang Qinghua was his friend, while Shang Qinghua always considered him his enemy. Does that make this an enemies-to-lovers plot, or a childhood friends-to-lovers plot? While Shang Qinghua is mentally finding tags for his life, Mobei Jun looks at him uncertainly. Oh. Shang Qinghua should probably answer.
“Oh boy,” he laughs awkwardly. “What a mess, am I right?”
Mobei Jun does not look any less uncertain. A bit more, actually. It’s kind of fun, Shang Qinghua thinks, to see him struggle like this.
Oh shit.
Shang Qinghua has been the bully all along!
Mobei Jun looks honestly distressed now. “I, uh…I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You can just ignore what I said if–“
“What??? Oh no, no no no! No more misunderstandings!” Shang Qinghua yells quickly and jumps forward to grab Mobei Jun’s hand. “I hate those the most!”
“Then…we’re friends?”
Shang Qinghua shakes his head, but before Mobei Jun can fret again, he clarifies. “I told you, didn’t I? I want you to take me on dates. I want you to be my reference for relationships. I want you help me write this romance plot.”
“You want to…” Mobei Jun stares down at where their hands are linked. “Court the villain of your novel?”
“I want the villain of the novel to court me.” Shang Qinghua grins. “And who knows, maybe I’ll turn him into the protagonist’s love interest in the end. My readers are going to hate it, it’ll be great!”
Mobei Jun looks up.
Oh shit. Is that a smile? This tiny curl of lips that eases the frown between Mobei Jun’s brows and makes his eyes curve? No villain has any right to look this cute. Shang Qinghua is going to perish.
He decides that this is the perfect time to start collecting references. With determination he reaches up and takes Mobei Jun’s face into his hands. Then he pulls him down to his own level and plants a firm kiss on his forehead.
This is going to be great!
The ever-cold countenance of the imposing demon takes on a faint blush when the hero kisses the mark on his forehead. He takes a staggering step back and stares down at the man he always considered his enemy with great shock.
“This…you…what…” he stammers and touches his forehead in a daze.
The hero smirks devilishly. Turns out there are more ways than one to deal with your nemesis.