No One Else Will Do But You - Chapter 85

Since Shu Luo had been on leave for half a month, Chen Cheng had been dutifully emailing him all the assignments given by their tutors. Now living alone in their student apartment, Chen Cheng felt a pang of loneliness. With the Spring Festival approaching and no plans to return home, the solitude felt particularly heavy.

Outside, the snow was falling steadily, signaling the approach of Christmas.

Ding! An email popped up on his laptop. It was from Christon.

“Chen, come over to my place.”

Chen Cheng’s face heated up the moment he saw the name. Why did the professor want him to come over? Ever since Christon’s sudden confession, Chen Cheng hadn’t known how to face him. He stared at the screen for ten minutes until a Facebook notification chirped.

“I have a gift for you. Come down. If you don’t reply in thirty seconds, I’m coming up.”

Chen Cheng panicked. What is going on?! They hadn’t spoken for two days since the confession, and now this?

“I’m downstairs. Come out.” Another notification.

Chen Cheng froze, then rushed to pull back the curtains. There stood Christon in a black wool coat, snow already dusting his hair and shoulders. Sensing eyes on him, Christon looked up and met Chen Cheng’s gaze. Seeing the flustered look in the boy’s eyes, Christon’s heart softened.

“Aren’t you going to invite me up?” Christon’s deep voice carried clearly through the quiet, snowy air.

“U-uh, come up then,” Chen Cheng stammered. He told himself he was only doing it because the snow was heavy—nothing else.

Christon considered himself a solitary man. His villa was quiet, occupied only by himself and a middle-aged housekeeper. His only other companion was Nord, a lively Tibetan Mastiff. Nord needed daily runs, and while he wasn’t aggressive, he was a handful.

Christon had posted a job listing for a student dog-walker years ago with no luck—either because of his own intimidating reputation or the dog’s breed. Finally, his colleague Lin Ruishen introduced Chen Cheng.

Christon’s first impression of Chen Cheng was that he looked fragile—thin, pale, and seemingly weak. He doubted the boy could handle the powerful Nord. Indeed, on the first day, Nord basically dragged Chen Cheng across the campus. The boy ended up breathless and red-faced, but instead of quitting, he knelt down and laughed, petting Nord’s fur.

That smile, brighter than the sunset and filled with warmth, had captivated Christon.

Since then, their interactions had been a series of polite, awkward exchanges: “The weather is nice.” “Yes, very nice.” “Have you eaten?” “Yes, I have.”

Everything changed when Nord accidentally knocked Chen Cheng into the campus lake. The water was over two meters deep, and Chen Cheng couldn’t swim. By the time Christon pulled him out, the boy was shivering and purple-lipped. Usually, Christon had little patience for perceived weakness, but with Chen Cheng, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect him.

So, he had confessed. And Chen Cheng had been running away ever since.

Chen Cheng opened the door, and a gust of cold air made him sneeze. Christon frowned and quickly stepped inside, closing the door.

“Professor, why are you here at this hour? Have you eaten?”

Christon paused while taking off his coat. The same opening line again? “Not yet. You?”

“I was just about to have instant noodles,” Chen Cheng admitted sheepishly.

“Instant noodles are unhealthy,” Christon remarked, looking at Chen Cheng’s thin frame. “What do you two usually eat?” He moved toward the refrigerator.

Chen Cheng leaped in front of the fridge. “Haha! There’s nothing in there!”

Christon narrowed his eyes. “Is there something I’m not allowed to see?”

Chen Cheng gave a hollow laugh. Yes. If you see it, you’ll lose your mind. “Uh, Professor, how about I make you some noodles? Tomato and egg noodles!”

“You’re cooking for me?” Christon’s mood brightened. “Fine.” He sat on the small sofa.

Chen Cheng sighed in relief and set to work. He and Shu Luo were lazy; when they didn’t have classes, they skipped the cafeteria and lived on eggs, noodles, and various ingredients they kept stocked.

From the sofa, Christon watched the boy work in the tiny kitchen. He felt a strange sense of pleasure—it felt entirely different from when his housekeeper cooked. However, his academic curiosity got the better of him. While Chen Cheng’s back was turned, he quietly slipped over and opened the fridge.

…My God.

Chen Cheng turned around just as Christon opened the door. He winced. Oh well, let him see.

Inside the freezer were several half-dissected animal carcasses, neatly frozen for study. To a normal person, it looked like a horror movie; to medical students like him and Shu Luo, it was just “unorganized homework.”

Christon silently closed the door. He regretted his curiosity. His appetite vanished instantly.

“Um… Professor, are you okay? That’s why I told you not to look. Luna (a mutual friend) said you don’t like blood and gore.” Chen Cheng paused, realizing what he’d just admitted.

Christon’s expression softened. “So you remembered my dislikes, Chen? It seems you like me more than you admit.”

Chen Cheng stared at him. What kind of logic is that? “Professor, I’m actually confused. What do you like about me? I’m not special at all.”

Christon reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “I just like you. To me, everything about you is excellent.”

Chen Cheng’s face burned. He had never been in a relationship—was he really being “led astray”? Then he thought of his traditional parents. They expected him to marry a woman and carry on the family line. If he came home with a man, he’d be disowned.

Seeing Chen Cheng turn pale, Christon gripped his shoulders. “Are you unwell?”

Chen Cheng awkwardly shook off his hands and took a step back. “Professor… please eat your noodles.”

The rejection was written all over his face. Christon didn’t push further. “Okay.”

Outside, the snow continued to fall. Inside, despite the heater, a chilling silence settled between them, shattering the brief warmth they had shared.