Chapter 32 Chapter 32: Rain Soaked the Sky – Part 2
Xu Yecheng finished the last chip, glanced at the crumbs clinging to his index finger, and instinctively sucked it clean.
Wiping your hands after eating chips? That just kills the soul of the experience.
He gathered the empty bag and tossed it into the trash bin—only to find the bin already overflowing. He stood up, bent down, tied the garbage bag shut, tidied up his desk a bit, then grabbed his things and headed out for class.
He Xiaohan, like Xu Yecheng, had an evening session of Music Appreciation.
He glanced over as Xu Yecheng prepared to leave. “Heading to class, Cheng?”
Xu Yecheng turned and gave him a quick look. He Xiaohan’s eyes lingered on the small mole near Xu Yecheng’s eye—and for no reason at all, that pair of eyes from the girl he’d met in the lab building flashed into his mind.
“That girl in the lab also had a tear mole…” He Xiaohan thought, oddly distracted.
“Yeah. Gonna grab dinner first, then go to class,” Xu Yecheng replied.
“Wait up—I’ll come with you,” He Xiaohan said, quickly gathering his things and standing from his seat.
Xu Yecheng wasn’t the type who enjoyed being alone. He preferred having company—whether eating, going to class, or walking back after lectures. Unfortunately, Liu Xianlin and Zheng Wenxuan were the kind who, if they didn’t have class, would just stay in the dorm ordering takeout.
Given Xu Yecheng’s tight budget, one takeout order could’ve fed him for several meals. The campus canteen was far more economical.
After a brief hesitation, he waited by the door until He Xiaohan finished tying his shoes.
“Let’s go,” He Xiaohan said, running a hand through his hair before slipping past Xu Yecheng.
Xu Yecheng had started noticing something odd about He Xiaohan and Ji Qingying’s dynamic. They seemed to operate on a “only meet when there’s a specific reason” basis.
In Xu Yecheng’s view, if two people were together, naturally they’d eat meals together, take walks during free time—simple, everyday things that just happened without needing to be scheduled.
But He Xiaohan didn’t seem to work that way. He was either holed up in the lab, buried in books in the dorm, or doing homework—and only occasionally disappeared briefly to see Ji Qingying.
Xu Yecheng shook his head. With He Xiaohan’s careless, playful attitude… maybe he wasn’t even serious about Ji Qingying at all.
He Xiaohan caught the motion and looked puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Xu Yecheng muttered.
The canteen was packed, and the line was long. By the time they finished eating, they were running late—the classroom building was quite far from the cafeteria.
“We’re gonna be late,” Xu Yecheng said with a pained glance at his phone, quickening his pace.
“Let’s bike over,” He Xiaohan suggested, gesturing toward their dorm building.
“Huh?” Xu Yecheng blinked, confused.
“I’ll give you a ride,” He Xiaohan said. “Come on—you said we’re short on time.”
Xu Yecheng numbly nodded and followed.
Two minutes later, they reached the dorm bicycle rack. He Xiaohan swung onto his bike, and Xu Yecheng hesitantly sat on the back seat.
“Hold on tight~”
With a powerful push of his long legs, the bike shot forward.
Wind rushed against Xu Yecheng’s face, carrying the faint, fresh scent of mint from He Xiaohan.
“You’re way lighter than Xuan,” He Xiaohan remarked casually from the front.
“Hah… thanks for the compliment,” Xu Yecheng replied stiffly, forcing a laugh.
He Xiaohan pedaled fast—too fast. Xu Yecheng felt uneasy. As a kid, he’d once fallen off a bicycle, and the memory still haunted him. His hands gripped the small raised edge of the seat tightly. When they hit a speed bump, the sudden jolt nearly made his heart stop.
By the time they reached the teaching building, Xu Yecheng climbed off, pale-faced. He Xiaohan turned to look at him, brow furrowed in confusion.
“Cheng… are you okay? Do you get motion sickness from bikes?”
Xu Yecheng was speechless. He shook his head. “Just a little dizzy. It’s fine.”
“Low blood sugar?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Xu Yecheng grumbled, clutching his notebook as he walked inside. “You pedaled too fast. I just ate—my stomach’s doing somersaults.”
“Can’t help it—time’s tight. And trust me, biking that fast’s exhausting too,” He Xiaohan chuckled, shrugging with mock exhaustion.
Out of the corner of his eye, Xu Yecheng noticed several girls glancing at He Xiaohan—and, by extension, at him.
He suddenly felt intensely self-conscious.
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Music Appreciation was a course meant to cultivate artistic sensibility—students learned musical knowledge, immersed themselves in aesthetic refinement, and experienced the profound emotional power of music.
But perhaps Xu Yecheng was simply too “basic.” He couldn’t grasp this lofty, soul-elevating feeling at all. So during class, he did what he did best: slacked off.
He took a seat in the back row—the official zone for students who’d mentally checked out. He Xiaohan sat beside him and, just like Xu Yecheng, pulled out his phone.
After roll call, Xu Yecheng settled in for a peaceful session of idling.
“Today, we’ll explore traditional Chinese orchestral instruments…” the teacher began.
Xu Yecheng tapped open a game and started enjoying himself.
He didn’t catch a single word of the lecture—until the teacher’s next sentence jolted him wide awake.
“Alright, let’s call on someone to answer a question~”
His stomach dropped. His heart pounded.
Please don’t pick me… please don’t pick me…
“Xu Yecheng, from Class Six—is he here?”
He Xiaohan beside him snorted, trying to suppress a laugh.
Xu Yecheng’s heart lurched. He stood up quickly.
“Here! Here!”
The music appreciation teacher was a woman in her thirties, with a warm yet resonant voice full of quiet strength.
“Oh, good. Xu Yecheng, can you tell me the main genres of sizhu (silk-and-bamboo) music?”
Xu Yecheng’s mind went blank. What on earth was she talking about? He hadn’t listened to a single word!
“The section we just covered,” the teacher prompted gently.
“Jiangnan sizhu, Basha xiyue, Guangdong music, and Fujian nanyin,” He Xiaohan murmured beside him.
Xu Yecheng repeated it word for word. The teacher smiled. “Very good. Please sit.”
Xu Yecheng exhaled in profound relief and sank back into his seat.
“Lucky break, Cheng—you nailed it,” He Xiaohan teased with a grin.
Xu Yecheng had been about to say thanks—but that flicker of gratitude vanished instantly.
“I thank you,” he snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm.
He Xiaohan nodded solemnly. “No need to be so formal, Cheng. We’re practically brothers.”
As he finished speaking, a girl in the front row subtly turned to glance back at him.
—
Here it is, here it is~
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