After The Beautiful Woman Moves Into The Jock's Dorm Room - Chapter 74

Chapter 74: “Got you.”

Shen Qingyu bit his lip fiercely, trying hard not to let out a scream of terror. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would absolutely never believe that the person who had been frequently sending him harassing messages for an entire year was actually Song Yu.

They had only known each other for about half a year, yet Song Yu had already been texting him for a year.

A metallic taste spread in his mouth as Shen Qingyu inadvertently bit his tongue. His palms were slick with sweat, leaving fingerprint after fingerprint on the phone screen. Several times when he tried to tap the screen, he accidentally opened the attached images in the texts.

Ugly, grotesque organs and suggestive gray pants, which had countless times been the stuff of his nightmares, were now lying quietly in Song Yu’s text messages. Shen Qingyu’s pupils suddenly constricted. His paralyzed brain slowly restarted. He threw the phone onto the desk with a smack, his body trembling uncontrollably.

A figure flashed past the side of his study cubicle. Shen Qingyu’s body instantly tensed up. He cautiously glanced sideways and realized the passing person wasn’t Song Yu.

Why would Song Yu do such a thing?

The few text messages that were seared into Shen Qingyu’s memory flashed through his mind:

[Little Yu baby is so beautiful. Your skin is pink. Is the bottom part pink too? Hubby really wants a taste. ]

[Hubby misses you again. Let baby see the evidence of Hubby missing you. [Image] ]

[Baby hasn’t been good lately. Do you want Hubby to punish you? ]

[What’s the relationship between you and that man standing next to you? Can’t I satisfy you alone? ]

…

All this time, Song Yu’s image in his mind had been that of a distant, untouchable snow lotus—a high-and-mighty figure he had repeatedly tried to get close to only to be kept at bay. It was very difficult and confusing for Shen Qingyu to believe that such a cool and reserved person would send him these kinds of messages.

Shen Qingyu suddenly recalled that the first time he received such a message was right after he posted a video. He didn’t think much of it then, assuming it was a new type of scam, fearing that replying might lead to his bank accounts being emptied. But later, the messages came more and more frequently, and the content became more and more explicit, sending shivers down his spine.

What Shen Qingyu found even harder to imagine was how Song Yu knew that video account belonged to him.

Did he know from the very beginning, or did he only find out after he moved into this dorm?

If it was the former… the possibility sent shivers down Shen Qingyu’s scalp. Fear crawled up his tailbone all the way to his head. This meant Song Yu had been lurking in the dark, watching and observing him for at least a year.

Suddenly, Shen Qingyu felt a cold gaze wandering over him. From top to bottom, from inside to outside, as if he were completely naked, pinned to a cross for viewing.

His heart gave a sudden lurch, skipping a beat. Shen Qingyu stiffly turned his head.

Through the reflective glass, Shen Qingyu saw Song Yu’s familiar figure. He was standing outside the study room door. Through a narrow gap in the door, Shen Qingyu could vaguely see his dark eyes.

Those eyes were fixed motionlessly on him.

And his lips were moving, seemingly saying something.

Shen Qingyu screamed silently in his mind. He told himself, “Don’t look,” “Don’t read,” yet his eyes were uncontrollably locked onto Song Yu’s lips.

What was he saying?

It seemed to be…

“Got you.”

A genuine sense of terror instantly washed over Shen Qingyu. His body instinctively recoiled, seeking a place of safety. The chair scraped against the floor with a sharp, grating sound. Amidst this noise, Song Yu slowly walked into the study room.

His pace was steady, his gaze leveled forward. Yet, Shen Qingyu felt an inexplicable sense of impending danger.

He desperately wanted to flee.

But where should I run?

As long as he remained at this university, he couldn’t escape Song Yu’s sight.

This time, Song Yu didn’t return to his seat. Instead, he stood beside Shen Qingyu, his eyes flashing with a look of concern, and asked in a low voice, “What’s wrong?”

Shen Qingyu swallowed, his lips moving, but he couldn’t make a sound. His eyes darted quickly to the phone on the desk.

Song Yu caught his movement, smiled softly, and said in a voice only they could hear, “So you found out, huh?”

His tone seemed somewhat troubled, with a hint of helpless indulgence, as if humoring a naughty child. However, Shen Qingyu felt his words were a call from hell.

Shen Qingyu’s chest heaved. His breathing became labored and difficult.

Song Yu knew everything had been exposed, yet he showed no guilt. Instead, he seemed excited by the fear in Shen Qingyu’s eyes that belonged only to him. His affection might be divided among many, but all this terror was reserved for him.

Thinking this, Song Yu couldn’t help but curve his lips. He raised his hand and gently brushed Shen Qingyu’s cheek, his tone full of an eerie tenderness: “Do you want to keep studying, or should we go back to the dorm?”

Shen Qingyu didn’t answer him, so Song Yu took the liberty of packing his books into his bag and reached out to help him stand up, but Shen Qingyu dodged his hand, his eyes wide.

Song Yu lowered his eyelids, looked at his own palm, and quietly withdrew his hand.

Leaving the library, Shen Qingyu’s legs were weak and trembling. The cold wind hit his face, making it sting, but he felt something was colder than the wind.

Song Yu walked behind him, a distance that was neither too close nor too far, allowing him to observe Shen Qingyu’s expression in detail. Seeing his lips pale and his eyes teary, Song Yu’s heart felt a sharp, stinging pain, as if pricked by a needle. He touched his chest, somewhat confused as to why he felt this sensation.

Shen Qingyu suddenly stopped. He felt he couldn’t run away. I’m not the one who did anything wrong, so why should I hide?

He took a deep breath, his hands clenched tightly on the corners of his coat, his eyes filled with vigilance.

“Why did you do this?” Shen Qingyu raised his voice, trying to use sound to intimidate him.

Song Yu helplessly clawed at the air. “…I don’t know.”

“You don’t know why you did what you did?” Anger instantly surged into Shen Qingyu’s heart, and he loudly condemned him, “I treated you as a friend! How could you do this to me? When exactly did this start? Why do you do these things? Do you know how scared, how disgusted, how sick I feel! How could you do this to me… without even a reason…”

Shen Qingyu’s voice trembled slightly, yet he let out a powerful roar.

Song Yu gazed at his tearful eyes. They looked pitifully charming, much more moving than his actual words.

“Because I love you.”

Shen Qingyu froze, tears hanging on his eyelashes, trembling slightly with the wind.

“But you forgot the promise you made to me.” Song Yu stood in front of Shen Qingyu and intimately used his fingertip to wipe away the tear traces from the corner of his eye. “I wanted to punish you, but I couldn’t bear to tie you up. Only this way would you remember me, right?”

“…You’re crazy.”

Song Yu was significantly taller than him. Just standing in front of him blocked all the light. The shadow completely enveloped Shen Qingyu, leaving him motionless.

“Yes, I’m crazy,” Song Yu gave a bitter laugh. “But if I were normal, would you be willing to love me?”

“We’ve only known each other for about half a year, and I already have a boy—”

“We’ve known each other for a long time. You’re the one who forgot me.” Song Yu calmly interrupted him, unwilling to hear those three words. “You clearly promised to be my wife.”

For some reason, Shen Qingyu heard a hint of grievance in his tone.

“What delusion are you talking about?”

To prove he was telling the truth, Song Yu took out his phone and somewhat roughly pulled up a faded old photo backed up on his device.

The photo showed a few children around seven or eight years old, sitting in the small garden of an old residential area. Shen Qingyu immediately recognized himself among the children. He had always been the best-looking among the group of children. Every time they went out to play, he would be complimented. Back then, the most common game was playing house, and the role Shen Qingyu played was always the “wife.”

“Do you remember now?”

Shen Qingyu searched his memories, pointing incredulously at the small, dark boy in the photo: “Is that you?”

Song Yu nodded.

Shen Qingyu felt a moment of astonishment. It was truly unbelievable that the scrawny little kid from so many years ago had grown into this tall, handsome man. He did vaguely remember being called away by his aunt once when he and a group of children were about to play house. He just casually said something like, “Next time, I’ll still be your wife,” because that scrawny little boy was very diligent. If Shen Qingyu was his “wife,” he wouldn’t have to do any work, just sit and watch them build sandcastles and cook. That’s why Shen Qingyu said that.

But shortly after that day, his aunt moved, taking Shen Qingyu with her, and that “next time” became an unfulfilled promise.

Years passed, and Shen Qingyu had long forgotten it, but he never thought someone would hold onto it so strongly.

Seeing that Shen Qingyu seemed to have remembered, Song Yu looked at him with a hint of expectation and showed him another screenshot. It was a screenshot of a comment. A person had commented under his video, saying, “Very beautiful, I like it very much,” and Shen Qingyu had replied with an emoji of a puppy holding a heart, with the words “Love you” written next to it.

“You even said you loved me,” Song Yu looked at him plaintively. “But you forgot everything.”

Shen Qingyu found it somewhat absurd that such a trivial past event and an emoji that was merely polite could be taken seriously by him.

Shen Qingyu felt a surge of helplessness. He shook his head wearily: “That was just a childhood joke, a polite emoji… how can you take it seriously?”

Song Yu put his phone back in his pocket, his gloomy gaze sweeping over Shen Qingyu’s face, repeating in a low voice: “Can’t be taken seriously?”

“Yes, those things don’t count.”

He nodded in understanding, a fleeting sadness in his eyes. He mumbled, “I understand.” Then, with an air of finality, he brushed past Shen Qingyu’s shoulder and walked away.

His retreating figure looked solitary and lonely in the winter night, as if his soul had been drained, leaving only a swaying torso. Shen Qingyu surprisingly felt a pang of pity.

Shen Qingyu slapped his cheeks to wake himself up. He didn’t know whether he should return to the dorm. He couldn’t accept that the person who had been sending him harassing texts for a year was his roommate. He could only choose to sit in the warm cafeteria for a while, watching the passersby outside, feeling confused.

What should he do?