My Roommate is a Gloomy, Sensitive Guy Who Cries Over Everything - Chapter 23

Chapter 23: No, That’s Wrong, Call Me Something Else…

Lin Zhiyu felt he was overthinking things. He even suspected this was a prank coordinated between the Senior and Brother Lin, so he didn’t respond immediately.

He tossed his clothes onto the bed casually and sat down in his ergonomic chair, acting nonchalant.

The Senior didn’t react to what had just happened on his end; he simply began his voice-tutoring session as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Lin Zhiyu noticed he was using a voice changer again. Unlike the previous young man’s voice, this time it was a mature, steady “uncle” voice. It was different from any he had heard before—with the Senior’s natural cadence, it sounded even more pleasant to the ear.

Complex and difficult problems became simple, easy-to-understand formulas when they came out of his mouth. Generally speaking, with such a high level of mathematics, most people would choose a STEM field, but the Senior was a Law major.

Senior: “Finished writing? We’re about to end.”

Lin Zhiyu put down his pen and glanced at the voice call interface on his phone. For some reason, he didn’t want to hang up too quickly.

He remained silent for a long time. Suddenly, a subtle laugh came through the phone. Lin Zhiyu felt his heart being tapped, like someone striking a wooden fish—a crisp, devout sound.

It was as if the man were waiting for Lin Zhiyu to speak, to take the initiative to get to know him, to develop a deep interest in him.

But Lin Zhiyu was unfamiliar with the intuition of being “led”: “Your math is so good, why did you choose a Liberal Arts major?”

“Assigned.”

“Ah? Are your grades lopsided?”

“I was always ranked one in my grade. It became a habit. I couldn’t afford to fall, because it was a matter of my mother’s ‘face.'”

The Senior’s voice sounded accustomed to it, calm as if telling someone else’s story: “If I didn’t get first place, there was no food. I’d be kicked out. To survive, I had to be first.”

Lin Zhiyu was completely stunned. Although he grew up in a single-parent home, Xue Rong’s requirements for him were very low—as long as he could get an education, it was fine. Even if he had only gotten into a vocational college, Xue Rong would have held a celebratory banquet.

Of course, he knew there were parents with a pathological obsession with their children’s performance. He just didn’t know how children growing up in that environment survived.

“And now?” he asked softly.

The Senior’s tone was icy, yet held a trace of amused irony: “She has new hope now. I’ve been thrown away.”

A lump suddenly formed in Lin Zhiyu’s throat. He had seen people who suffered—on the internet, or in stories passed around by others—but it was rare for it to appear so vividly before him. For a moment, he found it hard to respond.

When Lin Zhiyu didn’t speak, the voice on the other end dropped much lower: “You’re the paid companion, why am I the only one talking?”

Lin Zhiyu was silent for a while, then said: “I want to listen. You want to speak.”

The Senior didn’t say anything, but there were rustling movements, like fingernails scratching skin, faint friction, and the crisp sound of joints popping.

“You know, my sports meet is next week…”

The scratching sounds stopped. Even though the voice call was still on, it felt as if everything had suddenly plunged into darkness.

Lin Zhiyu swallowed his saliva, speaking these kinds of words for the first time: “You can come watch me secretly. I’ll get first place for you. You don’t have to be the one taking it this time. How about that?”

It took a long time for the other side to respond.

“I want to photograph you.”

“Take as many as you want!”

…

On the day of the sports meet, Lin Zhiyu changed into his gear and arrived early to warm up. The limit for student registrations was three events; Lin Zhiyu had chosen the long-distance run, the relay, and the high jump.

The relay was hard to predict, but he had some confidence in placing in the other two. However, he was definitely aiming for first. This year, they were actually distributing cash prizes, so there were many competitors.

The meet lasted three days. Today’s event was the relay; the high jump was in the afternoon, and the 3000-meter run was on the last day.

While doing stretching exercises, he looked left and right until Yu Hechang came over and patted his shoulder: “You’re so distracted just doing a warmup. What are you looking at?”

Lin Zhiyu naturally retracted his gaze: “Nothing.”

“Good brother, I’ll cheer for you. I’ll wait for you at the finish line.” Yu Hechang’s smile looked a bit off when he said this, like a crafty wide noodle in a hot pot.

Lin Zhiyu didn’t think the man would come to find him at this specific time. Yu Hechang was wearing a volunteer uniform; he wasn’t competing, but to earn elective credits, he had to take a different path.

Yu Hechang put his arm around his shoulder and whispered a “secret” everyone already knew: “Senior Lin came to the Publicity Department as a volunteer, but he only shoots the ‘atmosphere’ and environment. He doesn’t take photos of people.”

Lin Zhiyu knew this, and he had been surprised at the time. But on-site, they didn’t even have eye contact. Brother Lin was using his own equipment, standing in a corner with a face that looked faintly “dead.”

No one dared to approach him. Aside from Brother Lin’s aura, it was mainly because his camera was extremely expensive—around fifty or sixty thousand yuan.

The temporary meeting ended and people began to disperse. Just as Lin Zhiyu was about to leave, he caught a glimpse of Lin Rangchuan pointing his lens at him. Lin Zhiyu subconsciously gave a stiff smile.

The photo turned out hilarious. His eyes were wide open, and his facial muscles were momentarily out of control. He looked very cute.

Lin Zhiyu was still looking at him in a daze when Lin Rangchuan adjusted his wrist, his gaze clear and cold as he glanced at him: “Just testing the parameters.”

Qin Rui and Jiang Xinran had taken time off to watch Lin Zhiyu’s race. Ten minutes before the relay started, Lin Zhiyu went to check in. Outside the cordon, Jiang Xinran smiled at him: “I’ll hand you water when you’re done, hahaha!”

Qin Rui still maintained that aloof persona in front of outsiders, but the chocolate in his plastic bag was very conspicuous—clearly intended to replenish Lin Zhiyu’s energy.

Lin Zhiyu didn’t know they were coming: “What about the shop?”

Jiang Xinran was dismissive: “Isn’t the store manager there?”

Lin Zhiyu: “…”

Soon, Jiang Xinran was mingling with other students. Essentially, anyone who frequently bought milk tea knew the “four golden flowers” of their shop.

Qin Rui didn’t like crowded environments. Just as he turned to leave, he keenly sensed a lens pointed in their direction. He narrowed his eyes to search and finally settled on a black figure under the shade of a tree.

It was early autumn, but the weather here was still sweltering, with temperatures nearing 30 degrees. This person’s hat was black, their entire body was in black, and only their mask was white. They didn’t have a drop of sweat, looking like they were staring with a “dead man’s” gaze.

Qin Rui thought “Holy sh*t” in his head, nearly scared to death. He grabbed Lin Zhiyu’s arm: “He’s secretly taking photos of you.”

Lin Zhiyu looked over. “He’s here to help the Publicity Department.”

Qin Rui took a deep breath, absolutely certain: “He is secretly taking photos of you.”

Lin Zhiyu also felt it was a bit like that: “He’s adjusting parameters.”

“…”

At this time, the PA system was reminding people to check in. Lin Zhiyu didn’t linger. Four people huddled together; except for Lin Zhiyu, they all looked gloomy, as if they were about to go on stage for execution.

He wondered if their class was cursed when it came to sports. The boys in the class were all quite physically frail, yet they were incredibly fierce when playing video games.

One person suddenly roared: “Class 03, let’s go! Let’s strive not to be last! Let’s strive not to be turtles! Can we do it?!”

Lin Zhiyu scratched his head. “Turtles actually run pretty fast.”

“…” “…” “…” “Fine! Then let’s strive to be turtles!”

It sounded terrible regardless.

Lin Zhiyu was the final leg. He didn’t watch how the previous legs were running; he just bounced in place to keep his body warm. The runner before him was a thin, pale boy wearing glasses. He was usually very quiet and had been dragged into the race.

He was struggling. Seeing people pass him one by one, and thinking about how the lead the previous runners had fought for was being ruined by him, he got anxious and tripped halfway.

The crowd gasped. Lin Zhiyu’s brow twitched, but he stayed in place, waiting for him to come over.

The boy’s vision was blurred. Seeing someone ahead waving and jumping, he gritted his teeth and stood up in less than a second, continuing to run forward.

He was gasping so hard his features were distorted. He was hunched over, unable to lift his head. Lin Zhiyu took the baton and merely supported him with his wrist for a moment—a very subtle gesture of comfort that no one else noticed.

No one would know that this scene would be profoundly recorded. Every tiny detail, even the pores, was unwilling to be overlooked.

The boy was clearly stunned. Before he could react, Lin Zhiyu’s silhouette soared through the wind like a galloping horse.

His flying clothes revealed a corner of fair skin, shining brightly under the sun.

Amidst everyone’s cheers, he dashed toward the finish line, successfully completing his mission.

Jiang Xinran went over early to hand him water. Since it was just a sprint, he wasn’t out of breath to the point of pain, but he had run so fast he hadn’t quite adjusted yet.

“Wow, this is the first time I’ve ever given water to a guy. I never had the chance when I was in school.”

Lin Zhiyu smiled while gasping, his face flushed red. His chest was heaving significantly. Only after finding his rhythm did he unscrew the cap and take a sip. His temples were covered in sweat, which hung densely on his cheeks and then quietly slid from his jawline to his bobbing Adam’s apple.

He lowered his hand and froze again upon seeing the lens in front of him. He didn’t know if it was his imagination, but the lens seemed to be revolving around him.

Someone called him over. Lin Rangchuan casually took his mineral water bottle and said in a low voice: “Don’t just leave it lying around.”

Lin Zhiyu nodded blankly, noticing that sweat had finally broken out on Lin Rangchuan’s forehead. His neck was cold and white; a person who didn’t usually sweat was suddenly damp even around Adam’s apple.

It gave him the feeling that this man was, after all, capable of sweating.

The voice called him again, so Lin Zhiyu wiped his face and turned to walk away. Having sweated, that scent was even more intense. Lin Rangchuan remained in place.

“Sh*t, first place?!!” “Lin Zhiyu chased us all the way to first place!” “Didn’t you see him fly out like an arrow at the end? Sh*t, I wasn’t wearing my glasses, it was like a double image, super fast.” “Sh*t, that’s called astigmatism!”

After getting the baton, Lin Zhiyu had just charged forward like a bull. He had no idea what the situation was. It was mainly because they were trailing by quite a gap; he hadn’t expected he could actually catch up.

Several people suddenly jumped onto him, competing to speak explosively in his ear: “Holy sh*t, you’re amazing! I thought we were going to be last this time.”

Lin Zhiyu licked his lips, suddenly becoming humble: “It’s not that big a deal.”

Compared to a predetermined ending, a comeback was more stirring and surging.

The track was being tidied. Lin Zhiyu had the high jump in the afternoon. He wasn’t very good at it, so he sought out Qin Rui to learn some techniques.

He sat on the grass eating the snacks Qin Rui gave him, looking up at him. Because of the angle, he looked like a little brother gazing admiringly at a big brother.

Qin Rui couldn’t have been more satisfied, but his mouth remained unforgiving: “If you don’t know how, why did you sign up? Aren’t you afraid of losing face?”

“If we couldn’t get enough people, wouldn’t that be even more embarrassing?”

Qin Rui laughed: “Then you have quite a sense of class honor.”

“You bet.”

After practicing for a bit, it was halftime. Lin Zhiyu went to the cafeteria to eat something. He opened his phone and repeatedly entered the chat window with the Senior.

It was quiet for the first time.

Just as he thought that, several images suddenly popped up in the chat.

[Xiao Yu: You saw it all?] [Xiao Yu: Don’t worry, I wasn’t intentionally looking for you.]

Everyone was busy at the sports meet. Lin Zhiyu had come to the cafeteria early by himself to replenish his energy. Actually, Qin Rui could have accompanied him, but he had suddenly received a call, and with a terrible expression, he hurried away.

He would have to figure out the high jump by himself this afternoon.

Their class took first in the relay. Lin Zhiyu asked him if he saw it; he hoped the man was able to see everything.

The Senior, however, answered beside the point.

[The sun is at its brightest today.]

Lin Zhiyu agreed. The sun was indeed huge today, so bright people could barely keep their eyes open.

[Senior: Can I follow you today?]

Lin Zhiyu thought seriously for a few seconds. He had a high sensitivity to being followed, so he said jokingly:

[If you aren’t afraid of being caught by me, then follow away.] [Senior: Who will catch whom first?]

Lin Zhiyu would have to be an idiot not to understand the provocation hidden in those words. What, he wasn’t feeling inferior anymore?

After eating, Lin Zhiyu rested for a while to save his strength. He returned to the playground at two o’clock. The hurdles were about to start, and he watched from the sidelines.

The result was disastrous. Their class lost miserably, coming in last. In particular, some people’s hurdling forms were unprofessional, creating many laughs.

[Xiao Yu: We lost.] [Senior: Unhappy?] [Xiao Yu: A little, I guess. But it’s okay, I was mentally prepared. They weren’t good at it to begin with.] [Senior: Go wash your face.] [Senior: Baby looks very sleepy.]

My god, can he sense it from so far away? Although logic told him he shouldn’t intentionally search, Lin Zhiyu still subconsciously scanned his surroundings.

But clearly, no one fit the target. His mental image of the Senior—despite never seeing him—was of his physique…

Lin Zhiyu suddenly glanced at the back of Lin Rangchuan, who was taking photos. The black sun-protection jacket completely enveloped him, clinging to his flesh. It was a classic clothes-hanger physique; he looked like a male model in anything.

The next second, Lin Rangchuan turned sideways and met his gaze.

Lin Rangchuan only had his eyes exposed—they were beautiful phoenix eyes—but he quickly withdrew his gaze coldly and left the spectator stand.

[Senior: Go wash your face.] [Xiao Yu: Might as well.]

Lin Zhiyu stood up, brushing past Yu Hechang’s knees. Yu Hechang looked up and asked him where he was going.

“The restroom. Want to go?”

Yu Hechang was too lazy to move. It was too hot outside; at least the spectator stand provided shade.

The restroom was at the edge of the playground. Behind it was a relatively abandoned research building. That was its name, but the real research building wasn’t here. It was originally said to be demolished and rebuilt, but construction had never started. The reasons given were insufficient funds, or that the new dorms were costing too much—the forum had all sorts of reasons, but it always boiled down to one word: money.

Lin Zhiyu bent down to wash his face. Water dripping from his chin soaked his collar. He took out a tissue to wipe it. His phone vibrated.

[Senior: I see you.]

Almost instinctively, Lin Zhiyu looked toward the entrance of that building. It wasn’t the ordinary swing door; the side had one of those emergency exit doors. It had clearly been closed just now, but now a crack was open.

Lin Zhiyu stood in place. Suddenly, he saw a pair of eyes peering out from inside. He swallowed his saliva and, as if possessed, walked over.

Stopping and starting, Lin Zhiyu slowly pushed open the heavy emergency exit door. He was a bit afraid to enter. It was pitch black inside. The sunlight outside was so intense, yet the sliver of light that entered through the crack was immediately swallowed by the darkness.

Lin Zhiyu was still a bit afraid. He took two steps back. His wrist was suddenly grabbed tightly—the person was even wearing gloves!

His consciousness sloshed around like water in a glass, but soon calmed down again, becoming transparent.

The crack in the door was pulled shut completely. Lin Zhiyu tried hard to open his eyes wide, but he couldn’t see anything in front of him.

He opened his mouth, trying hard to make a sound, but he was still powerless. The person opposite him seemed very patient, giving him time to adjust.

Gradually, the tissue in Lin Zhiyu’s palm was almost crushed by him. Only then did he hear the sound coming from his own chest.

“Sen… ior?”

“No. Wrong.”

the voice sounded as if it had been scorched—unhealthy, deep, and raspy as if someone were stirring a finger in the throat.

Lin Zhiyu felt a flash of inspiration again. He called out toward the direction he was trying to find: “… Brother.”