Chapter 37 Chapter 37: Give Him a Taste of His Own Medicine! Part 2
The mask...
Xu Yecheng’s mind instantly sparked with an idea.
This guy—He Xiaohan—loved flirting with girls, right?
Then why not mess with him? Pretend to be a girl, let him chase “her,” and then reveal his real identity at the perfect moment—deliver a proper lesson.
His thoughts whirled chaotically. The plan was feasible—but risky. So many details needed careful handling... and there was no guarantee He Xiaohan would even fall for it.
But Xu Yecheng really, really wanted to teach that jerk a lesson...
With a sigh of resignation, he stood up from his seat, went to wash up, and climbed into bed.
He took a slow breath, opened WeChat on his phone, and stared at Ji Qingying’s profile picture. A familiar mix of hope and hesitation stirred in his chest.
“Feeling better now?” he typed.
Almost instantly, her name changed to “Typing…”
“Yeah, much better. Getting ready to sleep. Goodnight.”
His eyes brightened slightly. “Goodnight.”
“Brother Cheng,” He Xiaohan called from his chair, glancing up at Xu Yecheng in bed, “we’ve got no classes tomorrow morning—wanna come with me for a photo field trip? There’s payment for it, y’know.”
Xu Yecheng paused. Truth be told, he didn’t want to go—even though the money was tempting. But right now, he couldn’t stand He Xiaohan. The last thing he wanted was to spend time with him.
“I’ve got stuff tomorrow morning. I’ll skip it. You can keep the bonus all to yourself,” Xu Yecheng replied evenly.
A faint smile flickered in He Xiaohan’s eyes. “Ah, what a shame.”
Xu Yecheng opened WeChat again—and saw a notification from his work group. His shift schedule had been posted. He scanned it: four days a week.
One of those days was packed with back-to-back classes. Saturdays were fully free, but the rest of the week was split between morning and afternoon shifts. He was working nearly every day.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over him. He sighed again.
But… if he did the math, he’d earn over a thousand yuan a week…
That much money surely meant grueling work. Better get some sleep.
—
The next morning, Xu Yecheng sent Ji Qingying a message asking what she wanted for breakfast. He got out of bed and headed to buy food. His roommates were still asleep—but He Xiaohan’s bed was already empty. Xu Yecheng frowned, puzzled. Still, it wasn’t entirely surprising. He Xiaohan had always been an early riser.
...
Meanwhile, He Xiaohan stood on the rooftop of the lab building. The higher vantage point offered a wider view. The morning breeze brushed his face as he gazed toward the track field, then lifted the camera hanging from his neck.
The fog was thick that morning—he hadn’t captured the shot he wanted. He lit a cigarette, savoring the rare solitude.
His phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and remained calm.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Han-ge, the survey results are ready. Can you make the PowerPoint? Deadline’s the day after tomorrow.”
“Send me the files. I’ll head back to the dorm and work on it now,” He Xiaohan said, hanging up.
He took one last drag, stubbed out the cigarette—and happened to glance down at the track field.
His eyes narrowed in confusion.
He quickly raised his camera and snapped a photo: Ji Qingying and Xu Yecheng walking side by side, their backs turned.
His expression grew complicated.
Back in the dorm, He Xiaohan opened his laptop and pulled up the video file his teammate had sent. He sped through it, grabbing a few stills for his slides.
His eyes drifted absently over the footage—then paused on the face of a girl being interviewed.
“How much pocket money do your parents give you each month?” the interviewer asked.
The girl blinked, then answered softly, “One thousand.”
He Xiaohan hit the screenshot shortcut and dragged the image into his PowerPoint.
Also a sophomore…
He rested his chin in his hand, staring blankly at her face.
“Great, thanks for your time! Here’s a little gift~” the interviewer said, handing her a British-style guardsman plushie.
She accepted it with a small smile. “Thank you.”
“Whoa—this girl’s gorgeous,” Zheng Wenxuan suddenly remarked from beside him.
He Xiaohan chuckled. “She’s a sophomore too. Zheng-ge, why don’t you give it a shot?”
Zheng Wenxuan waved him off. “Nah. Girls like her? Definitely swarmed by admirers. A loser like me doesn’t stand a chance.”
“You’ll never know unless you try,” He Xiaohan teased, closing the video and starting to organize his data.
“Gotta know your place,” Zheng Wenxuan sighed.
He Xiaohan laughed lightly. Zheng Wenxuan exhaled—and then, out of the corner of his eye, noticed an identical British guardsman plush sitting on Xu Yecheng’s bookshelf.
Huh. My sweet Cheng still has a childish side, huh? Zheng Wenxuan mused, heading into the bathroom.
Once finished with his slides, He Xiaohan stretched, rolled his neck, and opened WeChat.
Just then, Xu Yecheng returned from outside—right as He Xiaohan was about to leave.
“Where you headed, He-ge?” Zheng Wenxuan asked.
“Can you grab us some food while you’re out?” Liu Xianlin added.
“I’m going to see Ji Qingying. If I have time, sure—I’ll bring back something for you guys if it’s just lunch.”
“Huh? You two got back together?!” Zheng Wenxuan was baffled.
“She just needs space to cool down. A little sweet talk, and she’ll be fine,” He Xiaohan said with feigned weariness.
“But didn’t you say you didn’t like her…?” Zheng Wenxuan frowned.
“Well, she is the department’s flower. Isn’t that exactly what you told me—to hold on tight?” He Xiaohan replied, his eyes flicking toward Xu Yecheng.
“Man, Han-ge really gets it,” Liu Xianlin mused admiringly. “Hurry back—I wanna study your girl-persuasion techniques tonight!”
He Xiaohan laughed. “No problem.”
Xu Yecheng’s stomach twisted.
So… Ji Qingying had rejected him just so she could go eat with He Xiaohan?
A heavy gloom settled over him. He sank into his chair and sighed tiredly.
Was he really that worthless?
He Xiaohan had barely said two words—and already, Qingying was back under his spell.
He didn’t understand. No one even knew about his feelings for her… yet he burned with shame.
It felt like something precious to him was nothing but a disposable toy to others—something you could throw away the moment you lost interest.
He’d dared to hope… but overnight, Qingying was walking side by side with He Xiaohan again.
Xu Yecheng felt like a clown. There was no audience—but he still felt utterly ridiculous.
Zheng Wenxuan watched silently as Xu Yecheng climbed back into bed without a word and drew his bed curtain shut.
Hmm… my sweet Cheng’s been in a bad mood lately, he thought, puzzled.
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