Chapter 99: Transmigrated as a Fraudulent Male Streamer (23)
“Is it something important?”
Perhaps because Jiang Tuan didn’t answer right away, Pei Hengyun asked again.
They sat at the dining table in the living room beneath an incandescent light. The lighting wasn’t particularly bright, and occasional moths and small insects fluttered against the bulb, making soft ticking sounds.
Pei Hengyun simply stared at Jiang Tuan with that pleasant smile.
He had a handsome face and a gentle temperament that easily won people’s favor, making them feel he was exceptionally easy to get along with.
Yet perhaps it was due to the lighting, or perhaps Jiang Tuan’s eyes were playing tricks on him, but he distinctly felt that at this moment, the depths of Pei Hengyun’s eyes were brimming with malice. It was as if, the instant he admitted the truth, the man would tear away his human disguise like a Painted Skin demon from ancient tales.
On top of that…
In truth, Jiang Tuan always remembered having a vague, subtle crush on Pei Hengyun back in high school.
That was why he had loved calling Pei Hengyun out to play basketball so much back then.
On humid, sultry summer afternoons in high school, when their group played basketball on the court, he would always steal glances at him whenever they stopped for a break…
And yet…
A sense of confusion welled up in Jiang Tuan’s heart once again.
Why did he recall that the person he harbored a crush on in his memory didn’t look like this at all?
In fact, after all these years of separation, when he saw Pei Hengyun for the first time, instead of feeling a spark of joy at their long-awaited reunion, an inexplicable wave of repulsion and dread had taken root deep inside him.
Even though his brain kept telling him: This is my classmate Pei Hengyun, the person I had a secret crush on in high school.
Every time his body drew close to Pei Hengyun, goosebumps would break out across his skin, as if his instincts were warning him: Stay away from this man.
Faced with Pei Hengyun’s repeated questioning, Jiang Tuan panicked and averted his eyes.
“It’s nothing,” Jiang Tuan said. “…He Yongning just wanted to ask me for some essays I wrote back then.”
“Essays you wrote?” Cen Yu naturally knew Jiang Tuan was making up a story on the spot, but as if realizing something, he asked, “Why would He Yongning’s essays be with you?”
He Yongning chuckled as if something had just occurred to him.
“He said he wanted to copy them.”
He Yongning looked at Jiang Tuan. “I remember Teacher Yan often had us write about the people and things around us back then. Having been graduated for so long, I’ve realized I’ve forgotten quite a few things from the past, so I wanted to find them again to take a look.”
Only then did Jiang Tuan remember.
Back then, Teacher Yan had indeed assigned an essay titled My Desk Partner.
Glancing at Pei Hengyun, whose expression remained completely unreadable, Jiang Tuan suddenly felt that he truly ought to take a trip back to the old house…
Watching the group play riddles with one another, Cen Yu figured He Yongning must have picked up on something being off as well. Judging by Jiang Tuan’s expression, he too had likely realized there was a glitch in his own memory.
From everyone’s descriptions, one thing was crystal clear:
There had definitely been four people playing that game together back then.
Now, with Pei Hengyun essentially being the ghost, as for who the remaining person was… Cen Yu lightly tapped his fingers against his knee, the answer practically staring him in the face.
Obviously, “I” was that former classmate of theirs.
Cen Yu thought to himself.
The System, however, didn’t issue a prompt for task completion based on this realization alone.
Cen Yu was confident he hadn’t deduced it incorrectly; rather, he simply hadn’t found the crucial evidence to prove it—
Whether it meant genuinely recovering his past memories or discovering tangible proof that Cen Yu was indeed that desk partner, either should count toward the goal.
Yet looking at Pei Hengyun’s demeanor, along with that old house supposedly destroyed by a mudslide, Cen Yu knew the man had undoubtedly made meticulous preparations—wiping out most of the proof that could confirm Cen Yu had been a student at Meiman High School.
—No wonder his memories of the past had felt so blurry the moment he entered this instance.
Earlier, he had assumed it was merely because the plot of this instance was short, making the System too lazy to load detailed backstories for him.
Now it was clear that this was a clue in and of itself.
Cen Yu couldn’t remember the past because his past had been erased by Pei Hengyun.
Now he was genuinely curious: ten years ago in that classroom, after they summoned Pei Hengyun, what wish had they actually made to bring about their current predicament?
For a moment, all five people at the table held their own separate thoughts and motives.
Propping his head on one hand, Cen Yu looked around at the group. “I’m going to the classroom tonight.”
Pei Hengyun looked at him instantly. “Tonight?”
“Yeah,” Cen Yu said as a matter of course. “I can’t flake on my stream for too long.”
He looked pointedly at He Yongning. “Unless CEO He is going to feed me platform resources?”
“Feeding you resources is out of the question,” He Yongning said, picking up a piece of food with his chopsticks and dropping it into Cen Yu’s bowl. “Feeding you a dish, however, is doable.”
“CEO He is as stingy as ever,” Cen Yu remarked. Glancing at the suddenly quiet Pei Hengyun beside him, he asked, “Are you resting at home tonight?”
Pei Hengyun parted his lips, seemingly wanting to say something, only to be cut off by He Yongning. “That works out. I happen to be curious about how you usually create theatrical effects for your streams.”
He Yongning said meaningfully, “There are no assistants here to prepare props for you.”
Although Jiang Tuan didn’t understand why Cen Yu suddenly wanted to start a live stream, as Cen Yu tilted his head to converse with He Yongning, an inexplicably familiar impression welled up deep in his heart…
It was as if a long time ago, a scene just like this had played out before.
He quickly lowered his head to sip his soup, terrified that others might notice him observing Cen Yu.
After a moment, he looked up at the group. “In that case, I’ll go take a look too.”
He said to the three of them, “It’s not easy to walk around the village at night. If you go on your own, I’m worried you won’t be able to find your way back.”
“Won’t be able to find our way back?” Cen Yu asked out of curiosity. “Don’t tell me we’ll run into a ghost wall?”
Jiang Tuan pondered for a second at those words, then said to Cen Yu in all seriousness, “I haven’t heard of that happening before.”
As he spoke, he failed to notice that from start to finish, Pei Hengyun hadn’t eaten a single bite of food. He simply sat there quietly, as though he had turned into a clay statue.
He possessed no emotions, harbored no sorrow, and no one would spare him a second glance.
People feared him and dreaded him; if they wished to move him to another spot, they would likely have to cover his head with a red cloth first, terrified that he might suddenly come to life.
It was right at this moment that Cen Yu turned to look at Pei Hengyun. “Why aren’t you eating anything?”
Only then did the clay statue remove the red cloth from its head and spring back to life. A smile bloomed in his eyes once more, his gaze completely consumed by Cen Yu as he looked at him. “I’m just a little scared.”
Saying this, he leaned against Cen Yu’s shoulder, soaking in the faint woody fragrance and warm body heat of the person beside him.
“I want to go with you guys too.”
