Help, My Buff Roommate is Begging to Touch my Abs - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Punished

The four of them didn’t even have time to wash up; they scrambled into their training uniforms, shoved on their shoes, and sprinted downstairs.

The area below the dormitory was empty save for a few stray students; from the training grounds, the sound of rhythmic, synchronized slogans could already be heard.

They ran all the way, sweat instantly soaking the backs of their shirts.

By the time they burst onto the edge of the field, the morning run formation had just ended. The instructor was standing at the front of the ranks with his hands on his hips, his face as black as the bottom of a pot.

As the four of them arrived panting and gasping for air, the eyes of every single student snapped toward them in unison.

Some snickered, some looked impressed, and others pointed and whispered, a tide of murmurs rising and falling.

“Report!”

Zhao Yuheng roared at the top of his lungs, and the four of them snapped to a halt.

Their chests heaved violently, and sweat poured down their foreheads and cheeks.

The instructor shot them a glance, his voice like tempered ice: “What time is it?”

“Reporting to the instructor, it is nine-twenty!” Jinbao-er lowered his head, his voice as thin as a mosquito’s buzz.

“Do you know you’re late?”

The instructor took two steps forward, his boots making a dull thud against the ground. “You’re late. The penalty is two hundred push-ups. Any objections?”

None of the four dared to make a sound; they shook their heads in unison.

“If there are no objections, get to it!” The instructor stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. “Everyone else, rest in place and watch them do it!”

Jinbao-er’s heart sank. Usually, he couldn’t even finish fifty push-ups; two hundred was a total fantasy.

But he didn’t dare talk back. He could only drop to the ground alongside Zhao Yuheng, Old First, and Old Second, bracing his hands against the surface.

The pinky finger on his left hand was pained by the jagged, scorching cement. The ground had been baked by the fierce sun until it was scalding.

Heat radiated even from the cracks in the pavement. The uneven distribution of weight made his already weak arms even harder to support.

He took a deep breath to steady his breathing.

“Start!” the instructor commanded.

The moment he exerted force, Jinbao-er felt his arms turn to jelly.

He gritted his teeth, doing them one by one. His movements grew slower and slower, sweat dripping from his forehead onto the ground.

Zhao Yuheng had the best physical strength; his reps were fast and standard, his broad shoulders rising and falling.

Sweat slid down his neck into his collar, soaking the fabric over his chest and outlining the tight lines of his muscles.

But he didn’t forget Jinbao-er beside him; out of the corner of his eye, he kept a constant watch on his condition.

Seeing Jinbao-er’s face turn pale and his form begin to break, Zhao Yuheng felt a pang in his heart.

Usually this kid looks so soft and frail, I didn’t expect him to be this bad at training, honestly…

But seeing him in such struggle and pain, I can’t just ignore it.

By the time they reached over 100 reps, Old First and Old Second were also gradually losing steam. Their breathing grew heavy and ragged, and their arms began to tremble.

At the sixtieth rep, Jinbao-er’s arms suddenly gave out. He slammed heavily onto the ground, his chest burning with pain.

He tried to push himself up, but his arms felt like they were filled with lead; he couldn’t find any strength.

His cheek pressed against the scalding ground, the burning sensation spreading across his skin. Humiliation and helplessness surged into his heart, and his eyes instantly reddened.

“What’s the matter? Can’t handle it?”

The instructor’s voice carried a hint of mockery.

Jinbao-er felt like the eyes of the entire training field were fixed on him.

His three roommates were likely almost finished, yet he had only done 60, and not a single one was standard. It was truly humiliating.

Jinbao-er bit his lip. Just as he was about to struggle to crawl back up, he heard a deep voice beside him.

“Instructor, his stamina is no good. I’ll do them for him.”

It was Zhao Yuheng.

He straightened up, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked at the instructor with a steady gaze.

The entire field went silent instantly; every student was stunned.

Even the instructor paused for a moment before frowning.

“Doing them for someone else? There’s no such rule.”

“If you want to take his place, it’s double! Four hundred reps!”

Zhao Yuheng didn’t hesitate: “Fine.”

With that, he dropped back to the ground and continued his push-ups.

Four hundred is no small number. Even for him, by the time he reached two hundred, his breathing became rapid.

The veins on his forehead throbbed, and sweat fell like a broken string of pearls, soaking a patch of the grass beneath him.

Jinbao-er lay on the ground, looking at Zhao Yuheng’s broad back, his heart feeling both sour and swollen.

He wanted to call out for him to stop, to say he could do it himself.

But the words died in his throat. He knew Zhao Yuheng’s temper—once he decided on something, he wouldn’t change it.

Old First and Old Second exchanged a look; both saw the emotion in the other’s eyes.

Though they loved to joke around, in their hearts, they truly saw Jinbao-er and Zhao Yuheng as real brothers.

Old First spoke first, his tone impulsive and direct: “Instructor, we’ll help do them for him too!”

Old Second chimed in immediately, his tone more composed.

“Right! The four of us together count it as ours! It’s too much for him to shoulder four hundred alone; our dorm will pool them together!”

The instructor hesitated. Looking at these four boys lying side-by-side on the ground, his expression softened slightly, but he still maintained a stern face.

“Fine. If you want to take his place, do it together. Two hundred—not a single one less!”

“No problem!” the two replied in unison.

After speaking, they dropped back down and started doing push-ups alongside Zhao Yuheng.

The three tall boys surrounded Jinbao-er, forming a solid barrier.

Their breathing intertwined. Though their movements were no longer perfectly synchronized, every rep was filled with power.

Jinbao-er looked at them, his heart feeling as if it were being filled with something warm.

He knew Zhao Yuheng was straight.

They were just brothers. But at this moment, his heart was racing.

The emotions he had been deliberately suppressing grew like wild weeds, making him feel both sweet and terrified.

…

By the time Zhao Yuheng reached his one-hundred-and-fiftieth rep, his strength was severely overdrawn.

His massive body weight made his arms buckle under the burden; every single rep was exceptionally difficult.

His breathing was heavy, and his face was covered in sweat and a deep, flushed red.

But he didn’t stop; his gaze remained firm.

Old First and Old Second weren’t having it easy either. Their arms shook more and more violently, their faces turned beet red, and they gasped for air in large gulps.

The surrounding students stopped whispering; their eyes were filled with respect and curiosity.

Even the instructor’s expression softened significantly, and he stopped shouting cold rebukes.

The bond between these four is actually quite good.

Finally, under everyone’s gaze.

Zhao Yuheng finished the last push-up. He pushed himself up abruptly, stumbling slightly.

He nearly fell, but fortunately, Old First caught him in time.

His chest heaved violently. Sweat dripped down his jawline, and his wet hair stood up in spikes like steel needles, yet his eyes were still bright.

He turned to look at Jinbao-er, reached out to wipe the stray tears from his cheek, and grinned, revealing his white teeth.

“Why are your eyes so red? It’s no big deal. In the future, set ten alarms and you’ll be fine.”

Jinbao-er looked at him, his lips trembling.

He wanted to say something, but found himself choking up, unable to utter a word. He could only nod his head vigorously.

Zhao Yuheng helped Jinbao-er up while Old First and Old Second supported each other.

The four of them stood together, their training uniforms soaked through with sweat—a pathetic mess, yet their eyes were full of smiles.

“Thanks, Heng-ge, Da-ge, Er-ge.”

Jinbao-er’s voice was weak, but full of gratitude.

“Thanks for what? We’re brothers!”

Old First patted his shoulder too hard, making Jinbao-er stumble.

Old Second said with a smile: “Exactly. Our dorm is a single unit!”

Zhao Yuheng didn’t say anything more; he just reached out and ruffled Jinbao-er’s hair.

The gesture was natural and intimate, his eyes carrying an imperceptible tenderness.

Jinbao-er’s cheeks instantly flushed, and his heart started its unfaithful racing again.

He quickly lowered his head to avoid the gaze, his heart thumping like a trapped rabbit.

He didn’t know that the moment he looked down.

Zhao Yuheng’s gaze lingered on him for a long time.

His expression was complex; there was heartache, care, and a trace of an unusual emotion that even he himself hadn’t realized yet.

The sun rose higher and higher, the light spilling over the four of them, stretching their shadows long.

Jinbao-er looked at the three brothers standing shoulder-to-shoulder beside him and swore an oath in his heart.

He had to earn money well, live well, and not let down this friendship of theirs.

But he also knew that those feelings for Zhao Yuheng… he probably couldn’t suppress them anymore.