Pretending To Have A Certain Persona Can Be Tiring - Chapter 19

Seeing that the French Fry seemed to have lost his ability to argue and stood there dazed, only knowing how to nod, Song Yang immediately insisted that he was the victim of financial and emotional fraud. He kept sobbing in front of the instructor, putting on a weak and pitiful act.

The instructor seemed to fall for it. He only subjected them to a lecture before ordering Cheng Ran to apologize and return the money, then kicked them out of the office.

The moment Song Yang stepped out of the office, his expression changed. He was instantly radiant with joy. Glancing at Cheng Ran’s resentful face, he gave a smug snort, turned around, and strutted away.

Passing by the stairwell, he ran into Ji Ting and Tao Ziyi.

“Did I not tell you both to go back first?”

Tao Ziyi stood up and grabbed his arm. “Yangyang, are you okay? What did the instructor say?”

“Not a damn thing. I even forced the French Fry to return the money in front of him. I will transfer it to you in a bit.”

Tao Ziyi was moved and hugged him tight. “Sob, I do not know how to thank you.”

Song Yang felt like he was suffocating and tried to push him away. “From now on, sign in for me when I skip the Introduction class.”

“Okay.”

“And treat me to something delicious.”

“No problem, sob…”

“Why are you crying?” Song Yang patted the back of his head. “Alright, it is over. I am punishing you with three months of no dating. Sign up for a class to learn how to identify scum.”

Tao Ziyi muttered his agreement. Song Yang ruffled his pink hair, then lifted his eyes and collided with Ji Ting’s gaze.

“Did you get punched in the face?” Ji Ting asked.

Song Yang froze. “Huh?”

“The right cheek.” Ji Ting scanned his slightly red and swollen cheek and added, “It is swollen like a pig.”

Song Yang let go of Tao Ziyi, finally feeling the heat radiating from his cheek. It was tingling with a dull pain as if it had been scorched by fire.

He lifted his chin. “Yes, yes. I am a pig, and you are a flawless white swan. Satisfied?”

The stick of dynamite was rarely not angry, perhaps because the King of Pretension had helped him tonight, so he decided to make peace with him for now.

Tao Ziyi cupped his face and took a look. “My god, hurry to the infirmary and get an ice pack to soothe it.”

Song Yang nodded and looked at Ji Ting. “Senior, are you hurt?”

“No.”

“That French Fry is trained. It is impressive that you managed to fight him to a draw.”

Song Yang paused for a second. This sounded like he was inferior to the King of Pretension, so he hurried to correct himself. “He suddenly rushed over to beat me, and I did not react in time, which is why I got hurt.”

Ji Ting was helpless. “Understood.”

They went to the infirmary to get an ice pack. Song Yang needed to leave campus, and Ji Ting was returning to his dormitory. Tao Ziyi’s dorm was in a different direction, so they parted ways.

After tonight’s chaos, it was already past midnight. The road was deserted. The wind rustled the sycamore leaves lining the path, and the dim streetlights alternately shortened and lengthened their shadows.

Song Yang pressed the ice pack to his cheek, rolling it back and forth like a wheel without any care, scrubbing his delicate skin until it turned even redder.

“You seem to have endless energy every day.”

Ji Ting’s clear voice broke the silence. Song Yang turned his eyes to him, confused. “Me?”

“So full of life, doing whatever you want without considering the consequences.”

“It is not your first day knowing me. I, Song Yang, am full of flaws, and I cannot change them.”

Song Yang spoke righteously, continuing without thinking, “Tao Ziyi might be a bit crazy, but he was my first friend in Nanzhou. He even helped me find my current rental. I am just that kind of person. Whoever treats me well, I treat them well. But whoever curses me once, I must hit them back twice.”

“Probably more than twice.”

Song Yang pouted, unable to tell if this was a compliment or an insult. After a moment, he added, “Just consider me nosy. You seem to like being nosy too. Are you not afraid of getting dragged into trouble?”

“I cannot just watch you get beaten up; you are in my department, after all.”

“The Senior is loyal.”

“No longer calling me the King of Pretension?”

Song Yang’s nerves tightened, and he choked. Seeing him lower his chin and darting his eyes around guiltily, Ji Ting teased him again, “What other nicknames have you secretly given me?”

“Uh, well…” Song Yang’s brain went into overdrive, stuttering an excuse, “The King of Pretension means you are very impressive. I am praising you! I do not call you that often; the one I call you most in private is ‘His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of the Student Union,’ to show my admiration for you.”

Ji Ting looked at him with an expression that clearly said he did not believe that. He tilted his head and glanced at him again, watching him continue to roll the ice pack against his cheek like a rolling pin. Far from reducing the swelling, he was only making things worse.

Ji Ting stopped walking, and Song Yang stopped too, turning his head curiously. Ji Ting took the ice pack from his hand, flattened it in his own palm, and gently pressed it against Song Yang’s swollen cheek.

The gentle pressure brought a cooling sensation against his skin. Song Yang opened his eyes wide and stared at the person in front of him.

The warm, bright light poured in from behind Ji Ting. The wisps of hair around his silhouette were cast in a pale gold. His striking features were veiled in a thin mist, making him look ethereal, as if he had descended from a dream or the heavens.

Song Yang stared at him in a daze for two seconds, his lips parting, and he subconsciously murmured, “This face of Ji is truly enough to sink fish and drop geese.”

“Hmm?”

Song Yang snapped back to reality, his heart jolting. Damn it! Why did I say what I was thinking out loud!

He averted his gaze in confusion, looking around. A blush spread across his left cheek, turning hot. It felt as if his face was caught between ice and fire.

Ji Ting’s eyes curved, the corners lifting with his smile. He raised his chin, his words laced with nonchalance. “Does it feel comfortable?”

The ice pack gently ground against his skin, moving slowly, lowering the temperature of the inflamed area.

This Fox Spirit of Qingqiu is damnably charming! That was dangerous; I was almost sucked into the vortex of his eyes. Thank goodness I, Song Yang, have an unyielding, unbreakable spirit.

“I am asking you.”

Song Yang responded dully, nodding.

“Did you do your own makeup?”

The topic jumped so quickly that Song Yang barely kept up. “Has it not faded yet? I worked a part-time job today. A sister helped me do it. It is very ugly, right?”

Before Ji Ting could deny it, he raised his hand to block Ji Ting’s view. “Do not look.”

“It is fine. It makes you look young.” Ji Ting evaluated briefly, then stuffed the ice pack back into Song Yang’s hand. “Hold it yourself and press gently. Stop using it as a rolling pin, pig.”

With that, he walked ahead. Song Yang froze for a second, realized he had been called a name, and shouted at the top of his lungs in anger, “Got it! Goose!”

When Ji Ting reached the dorm building, he bid him farewell and turned to leave, but Song Yang suddenly called out to him.

“Senior.”

Ji Ting turned back to see him standing obediently, looking quite docile.

“Thank you for helping me today. As a reward, I am willing not to curse you for the next week, and I will be at your beck and call within the next week—only for Student Union matters, of course. If you need help, feel free to order me around.”

Ji Ting paused for a moment, simply saying “Fine,” and turned into the dormitory building.

Song Yang let out a long breath and sauntered toward the school gate. Tonight had exhausted him. He took out his phone to scroll for a while and found that Auntie Xu had sent him a message a few hours ago:

Mom: I sent you a box of boneless chicken feet. They are delicious, I tested them myself. You can eat these on your stream; they will bring in a huge wave of fans.

Just seeing the words “chicken feet” made Song Yang drool. He felt his mood brighten instantly, his pace becoming springy.

Ji Ting had just reached the third floor. He looked down through the railing at the stairwell turn and saw Song Yang’s figure bouncing along under the streetlights, swinging the ice pack back and forth like a joyous little deer, seemingly delighted by something.

Unknowingly, he paused, watching Song Yang’s silhouette get smaller and smaller until it became a black dot blurring into the scattered light spots, disappearing from his view.

Ji Ting did not know how to describe the feeling Song Yang gave him.

He seemed to carry no burdens, easily provoked into a temper, yet easily satisfied.

He was like a wind blowing recklessly across the wilderness, or the vibrant red sun rising from the horizon. He was the embodiment of freedom and vitality.

For Ji Ting, who had received a strict education since childhood, freedom was out of reach. Perhaps a caged bird living under countless rules would always envy the little bird spreading its wings and flying high in the sky.

His parents hoped for him to become successful, but only Ji Ting knew he was not a dragon. He was just like thousands of ordinary people, having an extremely plain, personal dream.

Lis: I have a gift I want to send you. Give me an address.

Song Yang had just lain down on his bed, ready for a beautiful sleep, when the sudden notification made his drowsiness vanish instantly.

He hurriedly sat up, confirming repeatedly that the person speaking was Lis—a netizen he had known for barely ten days, and he wanted to send a gift?

Various possibilities of being scammed flashed through his mind. After hesitating for a moment, he slowly typed a reply:

song: Thank you for your kindness, but no need. Lis: Then the illustration will not be needed either.

Song Yang let out a “grass” sound: Threatening me?

song: I will accept it, I will accept it! What stage is the illustration at? Lis: Done next week. song: Okay. Can you tell me what you are sending first? Lis: It is a secret.

Song Yang: “…”

For safety’s sake, Song Yang specifically used the address of a relay station two streets away from his rental apartment. The other person only replied with an “OK.” Song Yang was baffled, thinking that this wealthy guy was truly impossible to fathom. He was too lazy to overthink it, pulled his quilt over his head, and fell sound asleep.

The next day, Song Yang went to school for practical training. Today was abnormal; as he walked on campus, he felt that passersby were all looking at him. He lowered his head to check his clothes and pants—nothing was worn backward. The strangers’ gazes made him uncomfortable, so he had to pull up his hoodie and walk with his face buried.

Just as he stepped into the classroom, a boy next to him shouted: “Welcome the God of War!”

Song Yang lifted his head in confusion. He heard a burst of laughter in the classroom and looked at the boy who had just spoken. He did not recognize him.

“Are you talking to me?” Song Yang asked.

Tao Ziyi scurried in from the door and crowded next to Song Yang: “Yangyang, have you looked at the campus wall?”

“No.”

Tao Ziyi quickly took out his phone and clicked on a post from last night on the campus wall. Song Yang received it blankly and was dumbstruck the moment he saw the title:

(Post 11245) Heavenly Defying! The God of War vs. The Art Academy Scum. The love-hate story of the stubborn little white flower and the scum heartbreaker—an imminent showdown under the dormitory building!

Song Yang furrowed his brows. “Huh??”

He opened the image below and saw himself brandishing a mosaic-covered blur like a rapier, while the French Fry looked terrified and kept retreating.

The likes and comments were exploding. He scanned the messages randomly:

Lucky enough to be there; the scene was even more intense than the post. C University needs this kind of Scum Judge! Waiting online for the God of War’s WeChat, he is so cute.

He could not bear to keep reading. Even though the actual battle had not been awkward last night, reviewing it now made his toes curl in embarrassment. He hurriedly exited and shoved the phone back to Tao Ziyi.

Good news: I am famous.

Bad news: I have been dubbed “The God of War of C*ck” by my fellow students!