Embrace That Vampire - Chapter 2

Pei Yun had never had such an uncomfortable sleep in his life.

It felt as though countless tiny people were brawling inside his body—the kind armed with knives, forks, and clubs—stomping and jumping around, poking their weapons into every inch of him.

Halfway through, he was actually jolted awake by sheer irritation. However, before he could figure out what was happening, his attention was snatched away by a peculiar fragrance.

It was so, so fragrant…

He couldn’t describe exactly what it was, but it made him, someone who had lost his appetite for days, suddenly surge with an intense desire to eat.

His eyelids were too heavy. He exerted a great deal of effort to force open a slit. In his hazy, muddled state, he couldn’t quite tell where he was; all he saw, right in front of him, was a cold, pale neck.

The scent seemed to be coming from right there.

He couldn’t resist lightly twitching the tip of his nose. As the fragrance wafted into his nasal cavity, it immediately triggered a convulsive, aching hunger in his stomach.

“So fragrant…”

So hungry.

Lu Que vaguely heard the person on his back grumbling. He slowed his pace and tilted his head. “Xiao Yun?”

Pei Yun didn’t acknowledge him. His eyes were glazed, staring blankly at the side of the man’s neck. “My throat… it feels like a hand is about to reach out of it…”

He parted his lips, eager to try a bite. He wanted to bite so badly, but he had no strength.

Lu Que: “…”

He opened his mouth to say something, but his shoulder suddenly grew heavy. The person on his back seemed to have passed out again. He knitted his brows and quickened his pace.

Pei Yun had a dream. He dreamt that he used a piece of dried fish to coax a big cat into carrying him.

He dangled the fish in front of the cat with a long bamboo pole. The cat chased the fish, and he sat comfortably on its back, riding along for the fresh air.

Later, the big cat realized Pei Yun was teasing it because it could never catch the fish. It got angry, lashed its tail wildly, and turned its head to bite Pei Yun hard on the back of his hand.

And then, he woke up.

His brain was still foggy. He stared at the stark white ceiling for a while to recover, then propped himself up on the bed. He didn’t recognize his surroundings, but he did recognize the person sitting nearby.

Seeing him awake, Lu Que put away his phone and stood up from the lounge chair. Just as he approached the bed, he heard the boy sitting cross-legged on the mattress mutter to himself: “So I’m still not awake yet. Xiao Pei, you’re incredible—even your dreams have such extreme leaps.”

Lu Que swept an expressionless glance over him and used the back of his hand to check the temperature of his forehead. Pei Yun took the opportunity to let his head sink forward, pressing his full weight against Lu Que’s hand.

“Sigh, why hasn’t class ended yet?”

His voice was a bit hoarse and weak as he lamented, “I’ve already had several dreams. Your class is truly a struggle to endure.”

“Class is over,” Lu Que said.

Pei Yun tilted his head up to look at him. His posture naturally shifted from his forehead resting on the back of the hand to his chin hooked over it. Oblivious, he asked, “Huh?”

“You aren’t dreaming.” Lu Que pushed him back slightly and withdrew his hand. “This is the infirmary, not the classroom.”

Five minutes later, Pei Yun finally digested the fact that he had slept in class until he lost consciousness, had been rushed to the infirmary, and had been given half a bottle of glucose via IV.

It was humiliating; he didn’t want to accept it.

He examined the back of his hand, which was slightly bruised after the needle was pulled. So it wasn’t a big cat bite; it was a needle prick.

“Doesn’t hypoglycemia only cause fainting in the morning?” he grumbled. “It’s already afternoon.”

The school doctor found it both funny and annoying. “Who told you hypoglycemia only happens in the morning? As long as the conditions are met, you can faint anytime.”

He was recording something in a manual, asking Pei Yun as he wrote, “Did you eat lunch?”

With Lu Que standing right there, Pei Yun felt a heavy pressure even though the man remained silent. He sat on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging down properly, not even daring to swing them. “I ate two bites.”

The doctor: “Two bites of what?”

Pei Yun: “The potatoes from the braised chicken.”

The doctor looked up at him. “How can you eat so little? What about breakfast? Did you eat that?”

Pei Yun: “I ate two bites.”

The doctor: “Two bites again? Two bites of what, noodles?”

Pei Yun: “Some… potato chips I opened last night and didn’t finish.”

The moment he finished speaking, Pei Yun felt a chill on the top of his head. He shrank his neck; the back of his neck felt a bit cold.

The doctor let out a “tsk” and closed the manual. “You kids, you’re so old yet you still don’t know how to take care of yourselves. Look at how worried you made your professor. If your family found out, they’d be so distressed.”

Pei Yun hung his head. “Yes, I know I was wrong. I’ll definitely eat on time from now on.”

“It better be that way. Don’t just say nice things now and forget the moment you turn around.”

The doctor had seen plenty of this kind of “outward compliance, inward defiance.” He offered a few more earnest reminders and waved them off. “Alright, go get something to eat. Go back to the dorm and rest well. Remember, don’t do this again.”

“Understood. Thank you, doctor.”

The doctor nodded and turned to leave. Only the two of them remained in the infirmary, and the atmosphere became somewhat stagnant.

Pei Yun uncomfortably picked at the bedsheets. He looked up at Lu Que and managed a smile, the dimples on his face carrying a hint of a plea for favor. “Small Uncle, don’t you still have classes? Why don’t you go ahead and get busy? You don’t need to worry about me; I’m fine now.”

Lu Que was looking down, sending a message. Hearing this, he shot him a glance.

Pei Yun thought he was verifying the truth of his words and prepared to hop around a bit to show him. Unfortunately, as soon as he stood straight, a wave of dizziness hit his brain. He almost tipped over in another embarrassing fall, but Lu Que caught him just in time.

The man’s palm was warm and broad, gripping his thin shoulder. For a fleeting second, Pei Yun felt like a little chick being held by the tips of its wings.

“I just slept too long,” he said sheepishly.

Once Lu Que was certain he was standing steady, he withdrew his hand and turned around. “Let’s go.”

Pei Yun followed him, full of expectation. “Small Uncle, are you going back to class?”

“No, someone is covering for me.” Lu Que pulled open the door. “I’m taking you to eat now.”

The timing was quite awkward. It was past lunch but not yet time for dinner. The cafeteria had nothing to eat, so Lu Que took Pei Yun to a seafood porridge shop outside the school.

Similarly, there were almost no customers in the shop.

After ordering, the two sat face-to-face in a seat near the door. Pei Yun focused intently on counting the wood grain on the table; the waiting time felt exceptionally long.

This atmosphere of eating together alone was truly foreign.

Although he and Lu Que had lived under the same roof for over a decade, Lu Que was seven years older than him. Before Lu Que became his professional course professor, their long paths of education had never intersected.

When Pei Yun was in kindergarten, Lu Que had skipped grades and reached the third year of junior high.

When Pei Yun was halfway through elementary school, Lu Que was recommended for admission to a prestigious university.

By the time Pei Yun was diligently studying in high school, Lu Que already had his doctorate in hand.

It wasn’t until Pei Yun finally got into college and Lu Que returned to Ning University as a specially appointed professor that the two finally “joined forces” at the same school.

Due to the gap in their timelines, they rarely saw each other at home since they were young.

Later, when Lu Que went to college and then bought his own place to move out, there were almost zero opportunities to meet, let alone eat together alone like this.

In Pei Yun’s memory, this seemed to be the first time.

Setting aside Pei Yun’s natural reverence for “teacher” types, simply accounting for the fact that he had just made a mistake right under this teacher’s nose made him feel utterly lacking in confidence.

Moreover, he had always been a bit afraid of Lu Que. No matter how wild he acted in front of others, he instantly became obedient the moment he faced Lu Que.

He was like a little white sable caught by the scruff of the neck by a big gray wolf—paws tucked, tail between his legs, not daring to make a sound.

For instance, now, with Lu Que simply throwing out the question “Why didn’t you eat?”, he was so nervous that even his fingertips trembled. His spine was stiff, his entire being radiating a weak, submissive aura of: Xiao Pei is being terribly good, please don’t scold him!

“I did eat,” he replied softly. “I just… ate a little less, that’s all.”

Lu Que lifted his eyelids to look at him. A pair of thin, silver-rimmed glasses rested on his bridge. Dressed in a suit and leather shoes, his aura was noble and refined—completely out of place with the glass doors and windows behind him that were plastered with small advertisements.

Just sitting there without saying a word was enough to give off an intense sense of pressure.

Under that gaze, Pei Yun didn’t even last three seconds before he surrendered. “Alright, I’ll come clean. I just had no appetite; I didn’t want to eat.”

The shop door was pushed open and closed as several girls walked in.

They were originally laughing and playing, but one of them noticed Pei Yun and Lu Que. After a few whispered words, they suddenly fell silent.

They glanced at each other and chose a seat at an empty table right behind them. As they passed by, they were nudging and pushing one another, their pace noticeably slow.

Pei Yun didn’t notice. He leaned forward slightly, his smile both tentative and fawning. “Small Uncle, can you please not tell my parents about today?”

Something suddenly fell to the floor at the table behind them with a series of clatters.

Lu Que’s tone was very light. “Since you have the courage to go an entire day without eating, why don’t you have the courage to tell them?”

“I mainly didn’t know I was so bad at resisting hunger,” Pei Yun grumbled softly before pleading, “Small Uncle, considering it’s my first offense, give me a hand? I’m begging you.”

The proprietress happened to bring over the seafood porridge and placed it in front of Pei Yun. The black clay pot held white, glutinous food, and the rising steam filtered Pei Yun’s gaze into a moist softness.

Lu Que’s fingertip tapped lightly on his knee. It was as if he deliberately let Pei Yun worry for a few extra seconds before he finally gave a hum of agreement. “If you don’t want me to tell on you, eat on time from now on.”

Pei Yun’s eyes lit up, and he immediately sat up straight. “You got it!”

His overwhelming gratitude was indescribable; he finished the entire pot of seafood porridge on the spot to show his sincerity.

After returning to the school, the two did not go their separate ways. Lu Que accompanied him toward the dormitory.

Pei Yun spent the whole walk smacking his lips, reminiscing about the seafood porridge. He had eaten too fast just now; his tongue was so burnt it felt numb, and he hadn’t really tasted it much.

Arriving downstairs at the dorm, Pei Yun waved a vibrant goodbye to Lu Que. He had only turned and taken two steps when he was called back.

Pei Yun turned and asked, “Small Uncle, is there something else?”

The sky had turned somewhat overcast, and the wind was cool. As it swept past Lu Que’s features, it seemed to dye them with a faint, ink-like shade.

From a few paces away, his voice sounded devoid of emotion: “Endure it even if it’s a struggle.”

“It’s your junior year; I’m only teaching you for this last half-semester.”