After Becoming Arch-Enemies with My Best Bro - Chapter 2

Wen Huihan summoned his courage, grabbed his suitcase, and marched straight to the dormitory door.

It was a four-person room. Aside from him, everyone else should have arrived by now; through the door, he could hear the faint murmur of conversation. The voices likely belonged to his other two roommates, Ying Xunchun and Zhao Zhao, who were discussing where the group should go for dinner tonight.

Wen Huihan listened for a while, but he didn’t hear a peep from He Chenshuang.

Know yourself and know your enemy. He pressed his ear against the door, trying to pinpoint He Chenshuang’s movements. What was the guy doing? Why was he being so quiet?

While he was busy playing a “peeping wall-lizard,” a guy from the next dorm happened to walk by. Seeing him, the neighbor greeted him enthusiastically, “Senior Wen? What are you doing at the door? Why don’t you go in?”

Wen Huihan cursed the guy’s booming voice internally. At that volume, the whole floor probably heard him. So much for spying.

His mission compromised, he turned around with a sigh, planning to exchange a few polite words with the junior. Wen Huihan had always been popular; he had a friendly personality, and with the “scholar-beauty” dual filter, guys naturally liked hanging out with him.

He had barely opened his mouth to reply when the dorm door swung open without warning. A shaft of light spilled out, followed by a tall, imposing shadow.

The freshman’s eyes lit up instantly. “Senior He!”

Wen Huihan instinctively looked back.

The man holding the door was exceptionally tall, practically blocking the entire entrance. The light caught the bridge of his high nose, casting a sharp line of contrast across his face that made him look somewhat cold and aloof. His features were striking and aggressive, but his expression remained dismissive and arrogant, his deep eyes slightly hooded.

He Chenshuang gave Wen Huihan a brief, sidelong glance and quirked an eyebrow.

“Tired of being a ‘God’? Thinking of becoming a ‘Door God’ instead?”

Wen Huihan:

He Chenshuang really is my kryptonite. Why didn’t I notice this before?

He shot back with a stiff face, “I wouldn’t dare. Your face would be much better at warding off evil spirits if we pasted your photo on the door.”

“Fine, we’ll paste them together,” He Chenshuang said with a faint smirk. He stepped aside slightly to let Wen Huihan in, giving a short, polite “Mhm” to the junior who had greeted him.

Wen Huihan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He finished his conversation with the junior, then lunged inside, pointedly bumping his shoulder against He Chenshuang’s in the narrow doorway.

He Chenshuang didn’t budge an inch. With his hands in his pockets, he followed Wen Huihan back into the room. “Where’s my water?”

“In the vending machine downstairs, Senior He.”

In the past, Wen Huihan would have brought him a bottle without a second thought. But today was different. He was working hard to become a ruthless villain.

Never skip a chance for evil, no matter how small.

He Chenshuang wants water? Let him buy it himself.

Watching Wen Huihan’s back, He Chenshuang let out a soft, inexplicable chuckle.

The Clean Desk Mystery

Ying Xunchun and Zhao Zhao immediately swarmed Wen Huihan, chatting away.

Their dorm was a harmonious one. Even though they were all in different majors and had different schedules, they were remarkably considerate of one another. Wen Huihan always felt at ease with them.

As he chatted, he dragged his suitcase to his desk. He noticed the surface was spotless, not a speck of dust to be seen. “Hey, who wiped my desk? Was it you, Xunchun?”

Ying Xunchun was the dorm monitor and a local. He was usually the first to arrive at the start of a semester and occasionally got the urge to mop the entire room’s floor. He was Wen Huihan’s favorite kind of roommate.

“Not me. I got here late this time,” Ying Xunchun said, nodding toward the right. “Brother He was already here when I arrived.”

Wen Huihan turned around. He Chenshuang was just pulling out his chair; his bed was directly to the right of Wen Huihan’s.

Feeling the gaze, He Chenshuang looked up. “What?”

“You did this?”

“I’ve been away for two months and forgot which desk was mine,” He Chenshuang said casually. “I wiped the wrong one.”

Wen Huihan smirked. Stubborn as always.

He Chenshuang asked, “Why are you so late?”

Both lived in the neighboring F Province, and they usually traveled back together. However, He Chenshuang had spent most of his summer with his mother.

His family situation was complicated. His parents’ marriage had been a business arrangement that ended in divorce when he was three. He lived with his father but visited his mother abroad during holidays. Since his father was always busy running his company, He Chenshuang lived alone most of the year. He wasn’t fond of strangers in the house, so he didn’t even have a housekeeper. He was used to fending for himself.

“Things came up.” The “things” were actually Wen Huihan’s attempt to delay his return as long as possible. If his mother, Ms. Fang Ziya, hadn’t literally forced him out and bought his ticket, he probably would have waited until the school gates were closing.

He Chenshuang rested his chin on his palm, tilting his head to look at him with a lazy, half-mocking smile. “A busy man, I see.”

Wen Huihan ignored him.

Testing the Limits

As he unpacked, he began to wonder. Given their history—He Chenshuang arriving early and still remembering to wipe his desk, how on earth did they end up as enemies?

He had been obsessing over this for weeks. They had been best friends since high school. When they started university together, they miraculously ended up in the same room. They were practically a package deal.

He couldn’t recall a single real fight. The closest they’d ever come to a “cold war” was in their senior year of high school, when Wen Huihan received a love letter from a younger male student.

He didn’t know why a guy was sending him letters, but He Chenshuang had been so annoyed that he’d given Wen Huihan the silent treatment for a week, only answering in one-word grunts.

Eventually, Wen Huihan lost his temper, pinned him against a wall by his collar, and explained that he’d only accepted the letter because the kid had depression and he was afraid a flat rejection would trigger him. He’d cleared things up with the boy shortly after.

Wen Huihan assumed He Chenshuang had just been worried about college entrance exams or maybe he just couldn’t handle the idea of his best friend suddenly “turning gay.” Regardless, they’d made up. He Chenshuang had apologized for being a brooding jerk, and Wen Huihan had mocked him for a bit before everything went back to normal.

So what could possibly drive us apart now? What is his breaking point?

He decided he needed to find He Chenshuang’s bottom line. Once he knew where the line was, he could step right over it.

Beside him, He Chenshuang noticed Wen Huihan was alternating between frowning and giggling to himself, stealing glances every few seconds like he was plotting something.

Amused, He Chenshuang watched him for a while before saying slowly, “Thinking about a girl?”

Wen Huihan snapped back, “You’re the one thinking about a girl!”

Little does he know, I’m actually formulating an evil plan.

He Chenshuang let out a scoff and turned back to his book. He had arrived early and finished all his chores, so he was currently flipping through an English copy of Ulysses.

Wen Huihan glanced over and caught the sharp silhouette of his profile and his effortless, relaxed posture. He’s even reading the original English version.  the ‘Son of Heaven’ energy is blinding. No wonder villains in TV shows can never be reasoned with.

The First “Strike”

Wen Huihan went to wash his hands, his mind racing. As the cool water flowed over his fingers, a brilliant idea struck him.

Returning from the balcony, he kept his expression neutral, walking a perfectly straight line. As he passed He Chenshuang, he made a show of shaking the water off his hands.

With a carefully timed flick, he splashed a handful of water directly onto He Chenshuang.

He kept walking without looking back, but his ears were tuned for a reaction.

He Chenshuang was dressed casually today in a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants. On him, even simple clothes looked like they belonged on a runway. Now, the gray fabric of his pants showed a very obvious dark patch of water on the thigh. A few droplets had landed on his book, too.

He Chenshuang set the book down and looked at Wen Huihan.

“What?” Wen Huihan asked defiantly, his eyes bright with anticipation.

“Nothing.”

He Chenshuang gave his pants a casual glance. “Did you finally awaken your ‘Water-Type’ superpowers?”

Wen Huihan: 

I wish I had water powers, he thought. Then I could pump some into your head and give that ego a good wash.

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