32: Mind Went Blank
This evening study session had no supervising teacher, so everyone was fairly relaxed. Some students weren’t even sitting in their own seats, instead pulling familiar classmates over to gossip about celebrities and school happenings.
Gradually, someone noticed the tall figure standing at the back of the classroom.
Soft murmurs spread through the class, with people turning their heads to look from time to time.
Then someone sent a message to the class group chat.
[Please rotate your heads 180 degrees, there’s a surprise waiting!]
[Wow, we only saw him on TV this afternoon. Who would’ve thought we’d get the live version at night?]
[This is the first time I’ve realized that rumors aren’t always rumors. Sometimes they’re real. He’s so handsome. One smile and my heart’s gone numb!!]
[Let me look at Brother Kun a bit more. My foolish, restless heart wants to switch sides.]
[But isn’t Ke Minghuai a senior? He’s several floors above us. Why is he here?]
[Probably because of Jin-ge. He used to come by a lot back in first year. Jin-ge is student council staff, maybe they have official business to discuss?]
[Given the timing of his return, what we saw this afternoon was probably pre-recorded. Huai Cao is still wearing his competition outfit. He didn’t even change, did he?]
As soon as Ke Minghuai finished his competition, he didn’t even have time to return to the hotel with his advisor to rest. He booked the nearest flight and flew straight back.
All contact methods had been deleted, WeChat and phone calls alike. Shen Jin hadn’t answered his calls, nor had he called back, making Ke Minghuai realize how serious the situation was.
Over the phone, any misunderstanding might be hard to clear up.
He thought that instead of relying on other means, it would be better to talk face to face.
Shen Jin was still seated in the last row of the classroom. A cool breeze brushed past. His white shirt outlined his slender frame, and the fingers resting on the desk curled unconsciously, a habitual gesture whenever he was tired.
Ke Minghuai stepped into the classroom, unzipped his jacket with one hand, flicked it off his shoulders, and was about to drape it over Shen Jin, only to be deftly blocked by a hand from the side.
It looked effortless, yet he couldn’t advance even an inch.
The arm was slim but packed with explosive strength, layered with lean muscle. The hand itself was beautiful, like a piece of art.
The owner of that arm was a strikingly handsome youth with a commanding presence. Only then did Ke Minghuai notice this desk mate whose looks were far too outstanding.
Surprised, Ke Minghuai looked over. Their gazes collided midair.
“Qian Kun?”
Ke Minghuai felt both familiar and unfamiliar with Qian Kun. Familiar because they often crossed paths in youth competitions at home and abroad. Unfamiliar because aside from the podium, they never interacted privately.
Some competitions ended brutally, inevitably taking a toll on one’s mindset. Shen Jin rarely saw Ke Minghuai dejected, yet when it happened, he would be curious what kind of person could make him so dispirited.
At times like that, Ke Minghuai would rub Shen Jin’s hair and say gently, “Have you seen a genius? Some people are just born that way.”
Later, for reasons unknown, Qian Kun vanished from the competitive scene.
Ke Minghuai remembered that back when they reported their school names, this pampered crown prince had been studying at a private school.
“Long time no see.” Ke Minghuai inclined his head in greeting.
“Mm.” Qian Kun had no interest in catching up. They’d only met a few times, nothing to reminisce about. “He sleeps lightly. If you cover him, he’ll wake up.”
Qian Kun lowered his voice, not wanting to wake Shen Jin. It sounded like a simple, well-meaning reminder.
Ke Minghuai froze mid-motion, jacket held in the air, the moment hanging stiffly.
It was Shen Jin who sensed an unfamiliar presence nearby and opened his eyes hazily, looking forward in confusion.
No teacher around, then I’ll rest a bit longer.
Shen Jin was that realistic. He sometimes wanted to slack off too.
Qian Kun seemed to see through his thoughts. He withdrew his hand without another glance at the unexpected visitor and instead placed a cup of warm water he’d prepared earlier in front of Shen Jin.
“Drink some water first. The temperature’s just right.”
Ever since he discovered Shen Jin’s stomach wasn’t in great shape, Qian Kun had prepared a pink octopus plastic water bottle, very similar to the one they grabbed from a claw machine that day.
He half-supervised Shen Jin, telling him not to be lazy and to drink warm water. Shen Jin had initially been quite resistant, especially because of the design on the cup. It gave him reason to suspect Qian Kun thought of him as a three-year-old.
Qian Kun never nagged. If he could do something directly, he wouldn’t bother talking.
He handed Shen Jin a medical journal about chronic gastritis sequelae and complications.
Then he added a touch of emotional leverage. Didn’t you say you’d treat me? Didn’t you say you were grateful? You won’t even listen to such a small suggestion?
Soft and hard tactics combined, successfully wearing down Shen Jin’s resistance.
“Oh.” Shen Jin’s voice was a little hoarse. He stared blankly at the cup steaming faintly, not fully awake yet. His reaction lagged. “Thanks.”
He took the cup. Whether intentionally or not, Qian Kun’s fingertips brushed lightly against his, sending a tiny electric ripple that no one else could perceive.
“Xiao Jin.”
Holding the cup, Shen Jin heard the voice and thought it sounded an awful lot like Ke Minghuai.
Wasn’t he overseas though? Even flying, he couldn’t be back that fast.
Shen Jin didn’t turn around. The voice called again from behind.
Not an illusion.
Shen Jin turned abruptly and met Ke Minghuai’s gaze.
“When did you get here?” Shen Jin was fully awake now. He blinked, seeing Ke Minghuai holding his jacket, smiling at him.
“It’s been a while. Your evening study’s almost over, right? Is it convenient to go out for a bit?”
Ke Minghuai watched Shen Jin’s fan-like lashes tremble, just as unsteady as his own heart.
Shen Jin rarely defied Ke Minghuai’s requests. As long as it didn’t cross his principles, he usually agreed. It was probably a habit formed since childhood.
He organized his papers, greeted the class monitor Jiang Yifan, and when he passed Qian Kun’s seat, his steps slowed unconsciously. Qian Kun, however, didn’t notice him.
Qian Kun had opened a familiar mobile game interface and was charging into battle with other classmates.
Shen Jin saw the in-game character land, pick up a submachine gun, execute a sharp roll, hide at the corner of a high metal tower, and with a few precise shots, take down two figures who’d just dropped from above.
The movements were clean and decisive.
As Shen Jin and Ke Minghuai left, discussion surged through the classroom.
Qian Kun’s hand paused on the screen until someone discovered his ambush, landed a headshot, and his character collapsed.
Qian Kun’s attention wasn’t on the game.
It lingered on the half-finished cup of water, cooling by the minute.
A sudden memory surfaced.
The pink bunny avatar.
*
The two found a Western restaurant near the school. With several high schools nearby, stylish places like this were popular with couples.
They hadn’t chosen it for the atmosphere. It was simply that other places nearby had already closed.
“What do you want to drink?” Ke Minghuai asked.
“Just order something for me.” It’d been a long time since they’d seen each other. Shen Jin felt a bit distant, his politeness more pronounced.
Maybe it was because the day before they separated, Ke Minghuai had smiled and suggested going to the amusement park the next day. At that time, Shen Jin had looked forward to it.
However the next day, he waited for hours at the meeting spot before receiving a last-minute message saying Ke Minghuai couldn’t make it. That alone wasn’t a big deal, but late that night, he’d run into a drunk Ke Minghuai.
And then…
Shen Jin didn’t want to remember.
Ke Minghuai ordered him a glass of milk and himself an Americano.
“Milk at night helps you grow taller.”
“I’m not that short. I’m almost 180.” 179.9. Rounded up, that was 180.
Shen Jin retorted immediately. It was just that everyone else was too tall.
Even Qian Kun, a Beta, was that tall. It really wasn’t scientific.
Because of differentiation, Shen Jin had gone through a second growth spurt and had gained another centimeter recently.
He’d been quite pleased about it.
Seeing Shen Jin still care so much about height, Ke Minghuai couldn’t help but laugh.
“Our Xiao Jin has never been short.”
Shen Jin didn’t argue. He looked at the black coffee in Ke Minghuai’s hand. “Can you even sleep after drinking that at night?”
Ke Minghuai didn’t mind. “I still have a few papers to submit to my advisor over there, related to this experimental project. I’ll be pulling all-nighters these next few days.”
Shen Jin sat by the bay window, from where he could see the school gate at a glance.
After evening study ended, students gradually appeared at the gate. Shen Jin vaguely spotted a familiar figure putting on a helmet, surrounded by several others.
After Qian Kun’s mother returned, she invited close relatives and friends to the Qian residence for a meal.
Among them were the families of Liu Qimai, Zhou You, and Ji Zhen. Ji Zhen had been waiting early at the school gate, while Zhou You rode over Qian Kun’s beloved motorcycle.
A sleek bike, like a black panther in the night.
As Qian Kun mounted it, Ji Zhen reached for the back seat, blinking pitifully. “Zhou You and the others want to take a taxi. I don’t want to. Who knows how many germs are in taxis?”
Liu Qimai admired Ji Zhen’s decade-long persistence. This girl had followed Qian Kun ever since she could remember.
Watching the scene like a show, he slung an arm around Zhou You’s shoulder, ready to tease, only to be shrugged off in disgust.
“Alphas stink. Stay away from me.”
“Zhou You, say that again if you dare! I’ll cling to you on purpose!”
Zhou You shot him a glance, about to retort, then paused, looking toward someone exiting the school gate.
If Shen Jin were there, he’d recognize him. It was his first roommate, the grade-skipping student Gu Yue.
Ji Zhen knew Qian Kun had a mild cleanliness obsession. Mentioning germs would definitely make him empathize and soften.
Besides, she was a female Omega, even more delicate than male Omegas. What Alpha or Beta could bear to refuse?
Sure enough, Qian Kun stopped starting the bike.
Joy surged through Ji Zhen.
Qian Kun pulled a pack of alcohol wipes from his pocket and handed it to the bewildered Ji Zhen.
“Wipe down. Then it’ll be clean.”
“…”
With that, he started the motorcycle and sped off.
Liu Qimai really wanted to laugh, but doing so in front of Ji Zhen felt wrong.
He could only turn away, his shoulders shaking.
As expected of Brother Kun, the heartbreaker. If you want him to give someone a ride, wait until next life.
Qian Kun stopped briefly near the only Western restaurant around, adjusting the helmet strap.
Shen Jin wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but under the streetlights, Qian Kun’s deep-set eyes seemed to shift direction. The visor blocked the light, making them hard to see clearly.
At that moment, the server brought over the milk. Ke Minghuai took it and handed it to Shen Jin.
Shen Jin turned back, feeling that just now, Qian Kun had glanced this way.
Ke Minghuai took out his phone and pointed at the red exclamation mark on WeChat. “Xiao Jin, why did you delete me?”
Shen Jin had suspected it before. Now he was completely certain. Madam Ke definitely hadn’t told her son about the broken engagement.
How impatient.
“You’d better go back and ask your mother about this.” Seeing Ke Minghuai about to tear open a sugar packet for the milk, Shen Jin gestured to stop him. He didn’t like sugar in his milk. It made the taste feel strange. “What I say might not match what she tells you.”
Seeing Shen Jin refuse, Ke Minghuai felt a strange discomfort.
Before this, Shen Jin always drank it this way and had never refused.
“You called her ‘your mother’?” He’d always said Auntie before. Ke Minghuai quickly caught the point. He’d gone straight to the second-year classroom upon returning and hadn’t contacted anyone else. “What exactly happened? I hope you’ll tell me yourself.”
Noticing the gentle aura around Ke Minghuai fade, Shen Jin pressed his lips together.
There should be a beginning and an end. Even if Ke Minghuai was unaware, without his biased attitudes in certain matters, Shen Jin believed Madam Ke wouldn’t have completely disregarded her son’s feelings.
By today, it was already a done deal.
Shen Jin thought of the years of sidelong glances and mockery from the Ke family’s relatives.
He suddenly felt it was funny, and also oddly relieved.
He slowly lifted his head, his voice clear. “We’ve broken off the engagement.”
*
Qian Kun stayed home for two hours. The banquet was nearing its end. He followed his mother in seeing the guests off, informed the family, then returned to the dorm.
Lights-out was approaching. The dorm was pitch-black. Shen Jin hadn’t returned.
Qian Kun stared deeply at the empty bed, then lowered his head and sent a message. [Help me look into someone. His name is Ke Minghuai. I want his life history from childhood to now, especially his romantic history.]
He didn’t turn on the light. Using outside streetlight, he gathered the clothes hanging on the balcony.
Holding clean clothes, he went into the bathroom, turned on the shower. Water cascaded down, splashing across his hair and body.
The phone on the sink kept lighting up. The private school class group was chatting.
After returning from the mall that day, Xie Hanzhu had felt unsettled.
She thought about how the Qian family’s businesses spanned dozens of countries and were now shifting back to the domestic market, a colossal presence. Among the younger generation, Qian Kun was the most doted on. Compared to the old-money Ke family, he was in no way inferior.
Qian Kun and Shen Jin belonged to different worlds.
The Shen family was just a small company barely surviving on Ke family charity.
That day had probably just been a chance encounter. Qian Kun had a good temperament and gave Shen Jin a ride along the way.
She told herself not to overthink.
Seeing Liu Qimai discussing a difficult math problem set by Class Nine’s teacher in the group chat, she noticed that although the problem was hard, someone had solved it.
Liu Qimai boasted enthusiastically that the solver was his diagonally back-seat neighbor, nicknamed the Ice God.
She knew that was Shen Jin’s nickname. Even at her current school, many people had heard of him. His looks were truly a lethal weapon.
On a whim, she sent a message. [The hugging bunny in his avatar has a story behind it.]
Since she’d joined the group, people who thought she knew that Ice God grew curious.
[What story? Do you know that icy beauty?]
[Why didn’t you say so before?]
Everyone was interested. Even Ji Zhen asked if Xie Hanzhu knew him.
Xie Hanzhu thought of how any Alpha she admired would ask her for an introduction once they learned she and Shen Jin were cousins. She didn’t want to be a middleman anymore. Whenever that happened, she denied everything outright.
Han Zhu: [We’re not close. I’ve seen him a few times. I’ve heard there are often many Alphas around him though, unclear relationships.]
After that ambiguous statement, before anyone else could respond, Liu Qimai was the first to bristle.
Mai Zi: [What nonsense are you talking? I’ve known him this long and he keeps his distance from everyone. How does that turn into ‘many Alphas’ from your mouth? If people like me asking questions count, your definition’s really broad!]
You: [Mind your words.]
It was Zhou You, who rarely spoke.
At that moment, Qian Kun, who hadn’t said a word, sent a short message. [Don’t spread hearsay.]
Then directly kicked the person from the group.
Xie Hanzhu: !!!
Qian Kun turned off his phone and continued showering.
Whenever his emotions fluctuated too strongly and he didn’t want to use suppressants, he used this method to calm himself.
Only after a long while did he turn off the water.
His bodyguards had already obtained the information he wanted. A person’s life history from childhood would be extensive, but Qian Kun wasn’t interested in details. He only wanted what could be known on the surface.
In the darkness, Qian Kun scrolled through the screen, reading at a glance.
When Shen Jin opened the door, he found the room pitch-black.
The dorm was quiet, as if no one had returned.
He thought Qian Kun had gone home. Remembering that glance through the restaurant window, Shen Jin felt the gaze had carried an indescribable heaviness that made his heart pound.
He turned on the ceiling light, hugged his clothes, and pushed open the bathroom door.
Click.
The light came on.
On Qian Kun’s phone screen was a line of text. [Ke Minghuai has had an Omega fiancée since nine years ago.]
Shen Jin’s pupils shrank. He caught sight of a completely bare body. His mind buzzed, going completely blank. Instinctively, he tried to retreat.
However, he had already taken several steps inside. The old bathroom had no shower door. Water splashed everywhere, and the floor was extremely slippery.
Flustered, Shen Jin moved clumsily, all sense of order gone.
Suddenly, his slipper slipped. His body tilted backward, falling.
“Shen Jin!”
Author’s Note:
Is my figure good?
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