Chapter 23: A Little Sad
Jiang Rong was walked to the dormitory building by He Siming. He stopped at the entrance downstairs.
He Siming said, “It’s cold outside. Go up quickly.”
Jiang Rong asked, “You’re not staying in the dorm tonight?”
It wasn’t that He Siming didn’t want to stay—he just didn’t dare to. “Yeah. I’ll bring you breakfast tomorrow. You can sleep in a bit.”
Jiang Rong had been a little disappointed, but hearing about breakfast cheered him up again. “Okay.”
He Siming added, “Don’t stand outside in the wind. Wear more clothes tomorrow.” He’d just touched him and felt how thin his clothes were.
Jiang Rong turned and went upstairs. Only then did He Siming leave.
All the school’s teaching buildings had elevators, so climbing stairs during the day didn’t feel like much. Over the weekend, the soreness from hiking wasn’t very noticeable either. But their dorm was on the fifth floor, and climbing five flights of stairs made the ache in his legs very obvious.
When Jiang Rong reached the second floor, he saw He Siming walking alone toward the parking area. Suddenly, He Siming stopped.
He turned back and saw Jiang Rong standing in the second-floor corridor.
They looked at each other from afar.
He Siming was holding his phone casually. He lowered his head and typed something. The next second, Jiang Rong’s phone vibrated.
He Siming: Why aren’t you going upstairs?
Jiang Rong: My thighs hurt.
From those three words, He Siming could see the grievance in Jiang Rong’s eyes—and a bit of unconscious coquettishness even Jiang Rong himself didn’t realize.
He Siming: I have a massage gun in my locker. Use it after you shower.
Jiang Rong: Okay.
He Siming: I’m heading back.
Jiang Rong: Mm.
Thinking of the basketball game he’d promised his senior for the weekend, He Siming sent another message.
He Siming: I’m busy in the evenings these next few days, so I can’t tutor you. I’ll send you the notes I organized—studying from those should be enough to pass the midterm. Ask me in class if there’s anything you don’t understand.
Jiang Rong climbed upstairs like an old ox. After returning to the dorm, he hammered at his legs. A few minutes later, He Siming finally received his reply.
Jiang Rong: Got it. Where did you put the massage gun?
He Siming: Bottom shelf of the bookcase. It’s not locked—just pull it open.
Jiang Rong: Found it. I’ll use it later. Going to shower first.
He Siming: Mm, I’m heading back.
Jiang Rong: Drive safely.
He Siming looked at the message twice, smiled unconsciously, then set his phone aside.
Inside Dorm 519.
Yao Shule was rummaging through his thick clothes. When he saw Jiang Rong come back and start digging through He Siming’s locker, he was surprised.
“What are you taking?” Yao Shule asked.
“He Siming’s massage gun. He told me about it. Want to use it?” Jiang Rong said.
“Yes, yes, yes! He has such a treasure and never told us!” Yao Shule exclaimed.
“Maybe you never asked?” Jiang Rong said. “I’ll use it after I shower. I’ve charged it—go ahead and use it first.”
“Alright, alright.”
After Jiang Rong took his clothes into the bathroom, Yao Shule’s gossiping instincts kicked in.
He kicked Li Yizhou, who was slumped crookedly in his chair playing a MOBA. “Li Yizhou! Li Yizhou!”
“What? I’m one kill away from a pentakill!” Li Yizhou snapped.
“Don’t you think He Siming and Jiang Rong have gotten ridiculously close lately?” Yao Shule said.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Li Yizhou replied. “Shows our dorm is full of love and everlasting friendship.”
“But they got close way too fast,” Yao Shule said. “At the beginning of the semester, they wouldn’t even say a word to each other in the dorm.”
“Isn’t that fine? More importantly, did you eat the grilled prawns? The pickled fish? The spicy chicken? Capitalist corruption!” Li Yizhou retorted.
“So are you saying you’re soft-mouthed from eating his food, or are you talking about Jiang Rong? He didn’t even eat as much as you.”
“Honestly though,” Li Yizhou said, “Jiang Rong has changed a lot. Like he’s got a new soul.”
“Why don’t you just say he’s a completely different person,” Yao Shule said. “During military training he wasn’t this energetic or handsome. Does drinking northern water make you prettier? He leaned in just now and I noticed his skin is actually dewy. This is the north, okay!” He tossed aside the sweater in his arms and grabbed a mirror to inspect his face. “Have I gotten more handsome since freshman year?”
Li Yizhou pretended to study him seriously. “Nope. Your skin’s rougher. You look a few years older.”
Yao Shule, who cared deeply about his looks, kicked his chair again. “Get lost.” Tonight was definitely a sheet mask night.
After Jiang Rong showered, he tidied his bag, remembered the strawberries he hadn’t eaten, and shared them with Yao Shule and Li Yizhou.
Eating them alone would’ve felt awkward.
He used the massage gun for a while before bed and sent He Siming some feedback.
Jiang Rong: He Siming, the massage gun works really well.
He’d never used one before. When Yao Shule wanted to try it earlier, Jiang Rong had happily let him demonstrate.
At that moment, He Siming was on the phone with his maternal uncle, who was a vice director at a hospital.
“Alright, kid,” his uncle said. “You never come to me without a reason. What’s up?”
“My classmate hit his head,” He Siming said. “His memory seems a bit confused. What could cause that? What tests should he get?”
“What kind of confusion?” his uncle asked.
“He has strange ideas, wild imagination. He inserts himself into odd scenarios and doesn’t even know basic common sense.”
“That’s pretty serious,” his uncle said. “Get a brain MRI. Check for a blood clot. Generally, even with amnesia, people still retain common sense—this sounds worse.”
Then he teased, “A female classmate? You’re awfully concerned.”
“It’s a guy,” He Siming replied.
The uncle didn’t think much of it and said responsibly, “If it’s that serious, he should come in for an exam as soon as possible.”
“It’s hard to get an appointment for brain imaging at your hospital,” He Siming said.
“So you want me to squeeze you in?” his uncle said.
“Yes.”
“Give me the time in advance and I’ll arrange it.”
“I’ll discuss it with my classmate first,” He Siming said.
It was Jiang Rong’s issue, after all—he still needed Jiang Rong’s consent.
“Oh right,” his uncle added. “Come home for dinner next week—it’s Xiaobao’s birthday.”
Xiaobao was his uncle’s son, five years old, in senior kindergarten—a mischievous little monkey. Ever since the kid showed his crying-and-causing-trouble tendencies, He Siming had decided he would never have children in his life.
Thinking of his cousin who ran around the house wielding a knife every day, He Siming hesitated inwardly, then said, “Alright.”
After hanging up, seeing Jiang Rong’s WeChat message lifted his mood considerably.
He Siming: Just keep it with you. You can use it anytime.
Jiang Rong: Mm. I’m really sleepy—I’m going to bed. What about you?
He Siming: Still have some things to deal with. I’ll sleep later.
Jiang Rong: Don’t stay up too late.
He Siming: I usually don’t—unless…
Jiang Rong: Unless what?
He Siming: Unless someone insists on making me do some kind of exercise.
Jiang Rong: I’m sleeping. Good night!
Ahhh—He Siming was so annoying. They agreed not to bring it up, yet he seized every chance to do so!
Jiang Rong pulled the blanket over his face. His cheeks burned hot, and the drowsiness was almost gone.
He Siming chuckled softly and replied: Good night.
Jiang Rong only fell asleep after reading that message. Somehow, even though he wasn’t in heat, he found himself craving He Siming’s pheromones a little.
He Siming didn’t have time to tutor Jiang Rong this week, so Jiang Rong returned to his habit of self-studying in the library.
Aside from studying as his top priority, his second priority was finding a part-time job.
After the hiking event, he added several members of the hiking club on WeChat. While scrolling, he saw Jiang Jie post a recruitment ad for a barista.
Jiang Rong contacted him proactively.
Jiang Jie: Looking for a part-time job?
Jiang Rong: Yes. Is this a long-term or short-term position?
Jiang Jie: Probably long-term.
Jiang Rong: Is there an assessment?
Jiang Jie: I’ll ask for you.
Of course, Jiang Rong couldn’t tell him that his mother—hoping he could marry into a wealthy family after differentiating into an Omega—had specifically made him learn coffee-making. From bean selection to latte art, he’d learned it all. His mother said coffee was popular in high society, and knowing it would be a bonus in the matchmaking market.
Jiang Jie: I asked. I was just helping a senior pass along the info. It’s the campus café hiring baristas. Apparently the campus heartthrob hasn’t been buying coffee there lately, so their daily revenue dropped by half. They urgently need handsome guys to boost business. But I think you totally fit the bill—if you can’t do it, you can learn.
Jiang Rong: Thanks. I’m fine with roasting, grinding, extraction, blending, and latte art.
Jiang Jie: Impressive. Once you get hired, I’ll have to go enjoy a bit of bourgeois life too.
Jiang Rong: I’ll treat you to coffee.
Jiang Jie: Deal, bro!
Soon after, Jiang Jie sent him the recruiter’s WeChat contact.
The other party asked him to come in for an interview the next afternoon. Jiang Rong agreed.
After lunch the next day, Jiang Rong went straight to the café for the interview after class.
Q University had plenty of wealthy students. There were three cafés on campus, all competitively priced. The café had previously advertised itself as “coffee even the campus heartthrob loves,” attracting many students hoping to run into He Siming. Recently, the heartthrob stopped coming, so they started looking for other ways to draw customers.
Jiang Rong hadn’t expected He Siming to be a walking billboard—pretty impressive.
At the café, Jiang Rong met the manager who interviewed him, a young man slightly older than him.
The manager was very satisfied with Jiang Rong’s appearance. “Our school really is full of hidden talents. Make a cup of coffee and show me—can you do latte art?”
“Yes,” Jiang Rong said.
He then demonstrated his skilled latte art and passed the interview smoothly. The manager discussed pay and confirmed his schedule.
Jiang Rong’s time was limited. His goal was to earn money to buy winter clothes, so his shifts were Wednesday and Friday evenings from 6 to 9 p.m., plus Saturday afternoons—a total of three days a week.
This café had high standards for both looks and skill, and the hourly wage was higher than the other two cafés. Jiang Rong was quite satisfied. He already had a meal allowance, so whatever he earned would be extra living expenses. It meant less study time, but that was fine—He Siming had organized study outlines for him. He could just sleep a little less.
The manager handed him a new barista uniform. “You can start tonight. This is your work outfit.”
“Okay,” Jiang Rong said. He glanced at the equipment. “May I make four cups of coffee to take with me? I’ll pay.”
The manager smiled at Jiang Rong’s face. “No need. You make the coffee, I’ll take a few photos and post them in the group—that’ll cover the cost.”
“Alright,” Jiang Rong said. “But don’t take photos of my face.”
The manager was interested in his hands. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
Jiang Rong carefully made four cups of coffee, packed them like the other baristas, and took them with him.
The manager, meanwhile, took photos of him from every angle, selected the best ones, and posted them in campus groups around the university town.
Oat Latte: Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap—Meiling Café just got an insanely gorgeous guy. His hands are amazing. Any sisters coming with me?
Oat Latte: His side profile is incredible too! Love it!
Oat Latte: [Image]
Ah Wei: Those hands hit my exact XP.
LetMeSeeYourNewNew: What time does he work? I want to “accidentally” run into him!
Oat Latte: I think he’s on shift tonight.
Little Ding Ding: Damn Meiling Café. Last time it was the campus heartthrob, now it’s the beautiful-hands guy. They really know how to advertise—hand over the work schedule!
Jiang Rong had no idea that before even starting work, his reputation had already been spread by the manager.
The interview and coffee-making took some time. By the time he realized it, class time had arrived, so he hurried to the classroom.
Yao Shule and Li Yizhou knew he’d gone to interview for a part-time job, but He Siming didn’t.
Today was a large English lecture. He Siming didn’t see Jiang Rong, but he did see Ding Yan waving at him, with Yang Qin sitting beside him.
The lecture hall was crowded. He Siming didn’t spot Yao Shule or Li Yizhou. He usually didn’t sit with them during large lectures anyway, so they hadn’t saved him a seat.
When Jiang Rong appeared carrying four cups of coffee, the back rows were almost full. He lowered his head and sent a message in the group chat.
Jiang Rong: Where are you sitting? Any seats left?
Yao Shule: Here! [Image]
He Siming: Here. [Image]
Just as He Siming was about to stand up, Yang Qin placed a cup of coffee in front of him. “I passed by the café and brought coffee for everyone. This one’s for you.”
He Siming looked at the message on his phone.
Jiang Rong: I brought you coffee.
He Siming didn’t take Yang Qin’s coffee. He said, “Thanks, but I already have coffee.”
He didn’t sit in the seat Yang Qin had left beside her. Instead, he took a long way around to walk toward Jiang Rong, who was peering around near the entrance.
Seeing He Siming, Jiang Rong finally relaxed.
“Why did you go buy coffee?” He Siming asked.
Jiang Rong whispered, “I didn’t buy it.”
There was only one seat left beside Yao Shule and Li Yizhou—not enough for both of them. He Siming led Jiang Rong to find another spot. There were two adjacent seats in the middle row near the aisle.
After they sat down, He Siming was curious about where the coffee came from, though he didn’t show it on his face.
“Which one is mine?” he asked.
Jiang Rong passed the other two cups to Yao Shule and Li Yizhou through nearby students. The remaining two were naturally for himself and He Siming. He’d labeled them—he handed the one marked with “He” to He Siming.
“I didn’t know what you like,” Jiang Rong said.
Holding the still-warm coffee, He Siming said, “Anything’s fine.”
At that moment, Ding Yan’s messages started flooding He Siming’s phone. What had just happened was pretty abrupt.
Every time they had a big lecture, Yang Qin would proactively sit with them. Out of politeness, He Siming never left. Yang Qin often bought milk tea or coffee for everyone. He Siming never drank it, but she still placed a cup in front of him every time.
Ding Yan: What’s going on?
Ding Yan: You seriously have no interest in Yang Qin?
Ding Yan: The stuff on the forum is real? You told your classmate you’re just classmates with Yang Qin—that really came from you, not rumors?
Ding Yan: Damn, Yang Qin’s face totally fell just now. So awkward.
Ding Yan: You left without even telling me!
Ding Yan: Where are you?
He Siming flipped his phone over and didn’t reply at all. Drinking coffee was more important.
“Not much sugar,” Jiang Rong said.
“You still haven’t told me where the coffee came from,” He Siming replied.
Only then did Jiang Rong explain about the part-time job. “I interviewed to be a barista at noon. I work three shifts a week. The coffee was made fresh at the café.”
The warmth of the cup seeped into He Siming’s palm. He took a couple more sips—it was very fragrant.
“Why did you suddenly want a part-time job?”
It was normal for college students to work part-time, especially someone like Jiang Rong with a poor background. He Siming himself worked in a lab for a professor and was preparing to try starting a company—also a kind of part-time job.
Still, hearing about Jiang Rong’s job now surprised him a little. He’d almost forgotten Jiang Rong’s orphan background, mainly because his temperament and way of speaking had grown so different.
“Give me your schedule,” He Siming said.
Jiang Rong explained it. “Wednesday and Friday evenings, three hours each. Saturday afternoon, four hours.”
He Siming’s brows tightened slightly. “Saturday afternoon?”
“Yeah. Why?” Jiang Rong asked.
“Nothing,” He Siming said. He had a basketball game on Saturday afternoon.
English class began.
But no one seemed particularly focused.
The campus belle who’d stolen the spotlight last week was much more low-key this time.
Many people were gossiping about what had just happened.
Halfway through class, Jiang Rong suddenly felt unwell.
He’d never had palpitations from coffee before, but now his heart was racing uncomfortably.
Was this a case of not adjusting well to this new world?
His diet had been light for over a month, with no issues. Why couldn’t he handle coffee now?
He wasn’t sensitive to caffeine.
It seemed he couldn’t drink coffee anymore—the coffee in this world was different from the one he knew.
What a pity.
During class, He Siming noticed Jiang Rong drooping his head and poking at his coffee cup.
He sent him a message.
He Siming: Unhappy?
Jiang Rong: Coffee made me feel uncomfortable. I won’t be able to drink it anymore.
He Siming: Then drink juice.
Jiang Rong: Mm.
After that mental shift, Jiang Rong felt a little brighter. Still, aside from the physical palpitations, he felt a vague discomfort in his heart—his life was slowly peeling away from the world he once knew.
He Siming: The coffee is really good. Better than any I’ve had.
Jiang Rong: Really?
He Siming: Yeah.
That small bit of unhappiness in Jiang Rong’s heart dissipated.
He’d always been confident in the coffee he made.
Yao Shule and Li Yizhou also thanked Jiang Rong in the group chat for the coffee. Yao Shule even offered to treat him to clay pot rice that evening.
Jiang Rong still didn’t feel very well, so he didn’t reply. His body seemed off these past two days.
Maybe the emotional ups and downs after coming to this world had lowered his physical condition. Winter was coming too, and neither the dorms nor classrooms had constant-temperature systems.
The lecture lasted two consecutive periods. In the second period, Yao Shule and Li Yizhou moved over to sit with them.
Yao Shule swapped seats with the student next to Jiang Rong. As soon as he sat down, he noticed a deep mark on Jiang Rong’s neck.
“Whoa—Jiang Rong, why is your neck bruised?” he exclaimed.
Jiang Rong touched his neck. “…” That was a hickey from He Siming!
He could only make something up. “M-maybe I bumped into something.”
“That’s one hell of a bump. Looks just like a hickey.”
Jiang Rong chose silence. The coffee had made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t have the energy to act embarrassed. He lay down on the desk to rest.
While Jiang Rong and Yao Shule were talking, He Siming glanced over. With more people around, he didn’t like talking much. He opened a shopping app to buy Xiaobao a birthday gift.
Li Yizhou caught a glimpse of his screen. “Transformers? He Siming, you’re into that kind of thing?”
“It’s for my cousin,” He Siming said.
“You must really like your cousin,” Li Yizhou said.
“So-so. He’s pretty annoying,” He Siming replied.
Li Yizhou found common ground immediately. “Same with my brother. My mom had another kid when I was in my second year of high school. He’s four now—tears the house apart every day. I want to beat him up eight hundred times a day.”
“Don’t even get me started,” Yao Shule said. “My cousin comes over and plays with my figurines—almost smashed them. Kids are such a pain.”
Jiang Rong hadn’t fallen asleep. Hearing them talk about children, he sat up. “You don’t like kids?”
“Don’t like them,” Yao Shule said. “I’m never having kids in my life.”
Jiang Rong looked at He Siming. “You don’t like them either?”
“Mm. Don’t like them,” He Siming replied.
Jiang Rong: “……”
Actually, he quite liked children.
In this world, he had no family. If he wanted someone related to him by blood, the only way was to have a child himself.
Jiang Rong quietly lay back down, burying his face between his arms.
Suddenly, he felt a little sad.
Seeing that Jiang Rong wasn’t very happy, He Siming was completely confused. Had he said something wrong?
