Chapter 89 088. The Birthday Dinner
Friday had finally arrived—Long Xing’s birthday.
After class ended in the evening, the group returned to the dorm, freshened up quickly, and set off in a boisterous procession toward the off-campus streets.
An Han walked at the very back, texting Lin Yi about tomorrow’s comic convention while glancing ahead at the others.
Almost everyone was dressed in black.
Except for Chen Junjie, who wore blue jeans, the rest were head-to-toe in dark clothing. Combined with Long Xing’s imposing presence, if they’d just added sunglasses, passersby might’ve mistaken them for a gang of underworld enforcers on patrol.
Besides the four dormmates, Su Peng had also joined Long Xing’s celebration. Originally, Long Xing had wanted to invite members of the Fitness Club too—but Wang Sheng strongly objected, so Long Xing decided to spend tonight just with his roommates and meet up with the club members for a separate gathering tomorrow.
“Wang Yu didn’t come…”
An Han breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He still felt a bit wary of Wang Yu, and ever since what happened at the hotel last time, he’d been especially reluctant to see him again.
This was already An Han’s third time celebrating Long Xing’s birthday.
The first was during freshman year—they weren’t close back then, so he hadn’t even attended. The second, in sophomore year, he’d given Long Xing a game skin worth around 100 yuan.
And now, this was the third.
He glanced down at the gift bag in his hand, reconsidering the best moment to present it.
He’d originally planned to wait until Long Xing gathered all his friends and buddies—make a grand, public reveal—but now the party only included the four dormmates plus Su Peng, all of whom Long Xing was already very familiar with.
No matter. Even like this, if I manage to record the whole event, I can still turn this birthday dinner into Long Xing’s personal “black history.” Once that footage circulates, his affection toward me is bound to drop.
Just then, he noticed Long Xing glancing back at him—eyes filled with eager anticipation.
Clearly, after days of buildup, Long Xing was already fantasizing that An Han’s mysterious gift must be something expensive… or perhaps a painstakingly handmade token of deep affection.
An Han suppressed a chuckle internally. The more he hopes, the harder he’ll fall when he sees that ultra-girly pink thermos.
It was only late October, but the evening air already carried a chill—many pedestrians had begun wearing light jackets. An Han’s own jacket no longer stood out, and finally, no one stared at him because of it.
That small relief meant a lot to An Han, who always worried people might notice his chest whenever he stepped outside.
“What are you two chatting about so intently?” Su Peng suddenly appeared beside him, eyeing the phone in An Han’s hands.
“Nothing much,” An Han casually slipped his phone into his pocket. He couldn’t possibly reveal his plans for the comic con, so he deflected with a question of his own: “Why didn’t Dong Ming come?”
“He’s not that close with Long Xing.”
What a shame. An Han secretly wished Dong Ming had come—ideally so he could get him drunk. Even if he couldn’t dress him in women’s clothes, watching the guy stumble around like a silly, tipsy fool would’ve been hilarious.
The group soon arrived at a bustling outdoor eatery. An Han had zero interest in picking dishes, so he followed the waiter straight into the private room.
Restaurants near campus were always packed around dinner time, and tonight was no exception. Even inside the private room, he could hear the raucous noise spilling in from the main hall.
He yawned and pulled out his phone again.
“You’ve got these measurements—seriously, are you even a guy?”
It was a message from Lin Yi, sent ten minutes ago. An Han ignored it.
He was supposed to meet Lin Yi at 10 a.m. tomorrow for the comic con.
The thought made him nervous—what if something unexpected happened?
It’s just wearing a qipao, posing as a model in front of a booth at the con, letting guys admire me. Shouldn’t be any trouble, right?
The irony wasn’t lost on him: he used to be the one admiring girls… now he was the girl being admired.
“Xiao Han, I ordered grilled fish too,” Long Xing called out as he entered the private room, carrying a whole crate of beer. “Let’s finish this case here, and save the rest for KTV later.”
“Mm.” An Han nodded listlessly.
“What did you get me, really?” Long Xing sat down beside him and reached for the gift bag on the table. “Just let me peek!”
“You’ll find out at KTV,” An Han replied, lifting his gaze. His eyes shimmered softly as he smiled gently, “You’re definitely going to love it.”
That tender, watery-eyed look caught Long Xing completely off guard—he quickly averted his eyes, heart pounding.
Could this be… a love confession gift? Why else keep it so secretive?
His mind began spinning wild, unrealistic fantasies.
But wait—I’m a guy… and Xiao Han’s a guy too. That wouldn’t be right, would it?
I should firmly reject him… but what if he starts crying in front of me?
An Han noticed Long Xing zoning out with a deeply conflicted expression but had no idea what was going on in his head. He simply looked up as the others filed into the room.
“What took you guys so long?”
“We went to pick up Long Ge’s cake. Not everyone’s as lazy as you, just sitting around waiting to be fed,” Chen Junjie said, placing a small six-inch cake on the table.
An Han leaned over for a look—and immediately wrinkled his nose in disappointment. “This cake’s so tiny, it’s barely enough for me alone.”
“It’s one bite per person. Long Ge doesn’t even like cake—who’d eat a big one?”
“I do!”
“Who the hell asked you?” Chen Junjie rolled his eyes. “Acting like it’s your birthday.”
An Han sighed inwardly, staring longingly at the unopened cake. Long Xing didn’t like sweets, but he absolutely adored them—especially creamy, sugary desserts.
“Long Ge! Long Ge! Cake’s here!” Chen Junjie plopped down next to Long Xing and called out loudly.
Long Xing finally snapped out of his daze, looked up, and realized everyone was already seated—with a cake sitting right in the middle of the table.
Afraid someone might guess what he’d been daydreaming about, he jumped up quickly. “Let’s just eat the cake now—good for filling our stomachs before the main meal.”
They scrambled to unwrap the cake, stuck in candles—but Long Xing skipped the whole “make-a-wish-and-blow-out-candles” ritual. Instead, he just shouted for paper plates and plastic cutlery and began slicing the already tiny cake into even smaller portions.
Sure enough—everyone got barely a single bite.
An Han sighed softly. His eyes darted around the table… and instantly locked onto one noticeably larger slice. Without hesitation, he stood up and reached for it.
“What’s the rush?” Su Peng teased from the side. “Only you’re this eager.”
“I feel like it!” An Han retorted.
He carefully held the flimsy paper plate in his palm. “Long Ge, where’s the fork?”
“Here.”
Fork in hand, he took a bite—but his gaze kept scanning the table, searching for anyone who might not care for cake.
His eyes landed on Wang Sheng, sitting beside Su Peng, idly scrolling through his phone with obvious disinterest.
Before An Han could even speak, Su Peng had already pushed his own untouched slice toward An Han’s plate.
“What are you doing?” An Han immediately tensed up.
“I don’t like cake. Too rich and creamy for me.”
“I don’t like it either!” An Han quickly looked away and focused intently on his own tiny piece.
Trying to curry favor with me? Not a chance!
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