The Beautiful Idiot Is Forced To Play The Villain [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Lan Zhen wandered here and there, quickly researching every nook and cranny of the small private office until he had turned it upside down. Bored once more, he sat back down next to Wei Chengyang.

His attention was drawn to the lines on Wei Chengyang’s arm. To apply force more easily, the older boy had rolled his sleeves up slightly, revealing firm, powerful muscles that looked hard and full of latent pressure.

Lan Zhen pinched his own arm; it was ridiculously soft.

He reached out, his hand inching toward Wei Chengyang’s arm. At the slightest sign of movement, his small hand would zip back like a lightning bolt, only to peek out again once he saw the coast was clear.

How silly.

Wei Chengyang suppressed the slight upward curve of his lips, pretending to be oblivious.

After much arduous effort, Lan Zhen finally touched the firm muscle. It felt completely different from his own skin, but it was very satisfying to knead.

Before he could get more than a few pinches in, a single sentence from Wei Chengyang made him flinch.

“If you’re bored, you can play on your phone.”

The implication was: Stop bothering me here.

Lan Zhen curled his lip. Thinking he had read between the lines, he shot another glance at Wei Chengyang.

Even while writing a self-reflection letter, the youth’s spine remained ramrod straight. His eyes were slightly cast down, hiding his thoughts behind a mask of cold, ascetic detachment—it was as if the words “High-Cold Top Student” were engraved on his face.

He looked unattainable, not the type of person who was easy to approach.

If not for the awkward intersection caused by the system, Lan Zhen figured he would never have actively provoked someone like this in his entire life.

Wei Chengyang didn’t know that a single sentence could spark so many thoughts in that small brain. He turned his head slightly, his peripheral vision falling on Lan Zhen. The little bully seemed to be sulking because he wasn’t allowed to pinch the arm; he lay facedown on the desk with puffed-up cheeks, his supple black hair framing his face and revealing a small patch of his white, tender nape.

The skin at the vertebrae of his neck was slightly flushed pink, looking like a little garnish on top of whipped cream—intense and eye-catching.

It wasn’t that Wei Chengyang was acting prudish and didn’t want the little bully to touch him; it was just that those boneless, soft hands sliding back and forth on his arm were making a certain part of him stand at attention.

If the little bully found out, he would surely be both ashamed and incensed—he might even scream for him to be gelded.

While Wei Chengyang used to think that part of him was disgusting and a mere burden, it seemed now that he had to keep it; otherwise, how could he bring happiness to the little bully?

Lan Zhen boredly pulled out his phone. He scrolled through the gossip news, but it was all uninteresting. He tapped on a social app, which was filled with dense group chats, while private message boxes could be counted on one hand.

At the very top, the most active group was named: [No Lan Zhen, Chat Freely.]

One didn’t need to think to know this was a venting group established by people in the school who couldn’t stand the bully. They thought their security measures were foolproof, unaware that the original soul had long since entered the group with an alt account, playing with his prey like a cat with a mouse.

Lan Zhen didn’t have a specific hobby for reading people insult him, so he hadn’t looked at this group since crossing over. He only remembered to take a peek today because he was so bored.

The latest message was a photo album. He clicked in to look; it was filled with various photos of him—sucking on milk tea, sleeping facedown on a desk, or an accidental backward glance in the corridor. There were many, some from moments even he didn’t realize had been captured.

Hmm, are they trying to use these to figure out my preferences and then target me accordingly?

Lan Zhen wasn’t sure. He also didn’t understand why the dates on the photos were so recent—it seemed they were all taken after he arrived. Did everyone hate him more than the original owner?

The person had uploaded a long string of photos. Only after the upload finished did people start talking.

[Wishing Someone Stays Away From Me]: Lan Zhen has really been different lately…

[Gonna Be Rank One Next Time]: Yeah, completely different (monotone).

Lan Zhen quickly closed the chat after only two glances. In his haste, he misclicked several keys and didn’t know where he had ended up.

Why does it seem like the whole world is talking about this? Does everyone actually suspect me? Am I the only one firmly believing my disguise is still intact?

Please, not this!

Wei Chengyang had been keeping a close eye on the little bully. He didn’t know what the boy had seen, but he looked like a startled cat—eyes wide and round, every hair on his body standing on end.

His pen paused. He thought the little bully looked adorable like this, making one want to scoop him up and kiss or caress that vivid little face.

“Can you talk to me?” The little bully poked him with a finger. As he spoke, his nose wrinkled slightly in embarrassment. “I’m so bored.”

“Talk about what?” Wei Chengyang’s calm tone hid an excitement only he knew. His hands didn’t miss a beat as he worked.

Lan Zhen didn’t actually know what to talk about; he had just reached out instinctively because of the boredom. What was there to talk about with a top student? It would be nothing but study methods and what they learned today—things he wasn’t good at. If he spoke, he’d be exposed.

“What do you plan to eat for dinner tonight?” He picked a topic he deemed safe and began to ramble. “I want a burger from the first cafeteria, ideally paired with milk tea from the third cafeteria. But they’re so far apart; it feels like I can only choose one…”

Wei Chengyang pursed his lips and didn’t speak. He had always been indifferent about food—as long as it was enough to keep him alive, it was fine. Simple and random. Now it seemed that if he wanted to keep this beautiful kitten sleek and glossy, he would need to change his lifestyle.

The topic was great to talk about, but it couldn’t withstand the constant mention; Lan Zhen’s stomach soon began to growl. As if protesting against him, the sound was quite loud—he couldn’t hide it even if he tried.

He definitely heard it. How can someone talk themselves into being hungry?

Lan Zhen shrank his neck, burying his small face into his oversized school collar—a perfect picture of self-deception and hiding one’s head in the sand.

Wei Chengyang sighed and put down his pen. “It’s dinner time. Let’s go out and eat.”

“Didn’t the head teacher say we can’t leave until we’re finished?” Lan Zhen’s face was still muffled in his uniform, his voice sounding flat.

Actually, it was because it was too embarrassing; he felt he had no face to see anyone. Why did this always happen to him? It was too awkward.

Seeing him like a little snail retracted into its shell, Wei Chengyang said nothing and left alone. If he forced the boy out, the little snail would only get angry again.

The little snail only dared to peek out once the other had gone. A moment later, he felt a bit of regret. If I don’t go out, will I have no food to eat?

He had been so mean to Wei Chengyang before; putting himself in the other’s shoes, he certainly wouldn’t have brought food back.

Lan Zhen stood at the office door, hesitating. He wanted to go out to eat, but he was afraid he couldn’t explain to the head teacher why he was outside. He tentatively stretched out a foot, then quickly pulled it back, falling into endless indecision.

[If you don’t go now, the cafeteria will be closing up,] 370 reminded him as it watched him pacing in circles.

Lan Zhen finally made up his mind to go to a nearby cafeteria. Just as he was about to step out, Wei Chengyang returned carrying two bags.

In the left was the burger he wanted; in the right was the milk tea—two cups of it.

“Is that for me?” Lan Zhen’s eyes lit up as he moved closer.

It wasn’t narcissism—he had just told Wei Chengyang about these things, and the guy had brought them back. This was obviously for him! He had misjudged him; Wei Chengyang was a truly great person!

To see the temperamental and hard-to-please kitty actively come over for a “rub” just for the things in his hand made Wei Chengyang’s lips curve slightly. Because he rarely smiled, the expression looked a bit stiff and cold.

Seeing him nod, Lan Zhen quickly took the bags and opened the burger. He fastidiously picked out the lettuce leaves, then looked at the two cups of milk tea—he kept the full-sugar one for himself and handed the half-sugar one back.

“You don’t like lettuce?” Wei Chengyang took a sip of the half-sugar tea, his brow furrowing as his body silently rejected the fancy food.

Fearing the other would use high-sounding logic to make him eat the greens, Lan Zhen hurried to toss the leaves into the trash, not forgetting to throw some other things on top to cover them up.

“It’s inedible now; it’s dirty,” he said, looking up.

What a clever kitty.

Wei Chengyang sat back in his seat in silence. He pretended to nonchalantly roll his sleeves up even further, revealing his lean muscles. His writing posture accentuated the lines on his arms to the fullest.

Like a kitten seeing a cat teaser, Lan Zhen—now full and satisfied—quickly edged closer again.

“You can pinch it,” Wei Chengyang said, his facial features remaining cold. His dark eyes stared unblinkingly at Lan Zhen as if they were discussing a top-secret mission. Even his voice sounded ascetic. “But you have to trade something for it. Let me pinch you too, or give me a kiss.”

That sounds so perverted.

“No, no.” Lan Zhen shook his head and took several steps back. “You should just keep writing. I won’t bother you.”

He ran faster than a rabbit, scurrying to another corner. He stared intently at his phone as if he were trying to crawl inside it, terrified that Wei Chengyang would say something else strange.

First High didn’t mandate evening self-study; how late students stayed in the classroom depended entirely on their own self-discipline. Although Wei Chengyang wrote a bit slowly, he didn’t intentionally drag it out. He finished around 11:00 PM. A few classrooms were still lit.

Lan Zhen had fallen asleep on the desk at some point. His cheek was pressed against the tabletop like melted cream—white and soft.

Wei Chengyang went over and picked him up. The half-awake little bully instantly turned into a well-behaved kitten, very affectionate. His soft, fine hair rubbed against Wei Chengyang’s chin; if the space had allowed it, he probably would have stretched comfortably.

An urgent alarm rang out in Wei Chengyang’s mind; his reason was on the verge of snapping. He used two fingers to pinch the little bully’s cheek. Distressed, the boy slightly opened his mouth, revealing a small, pink tongue.

For about two or three seconds, Wei Chengyang leaned down. His tongue broke through the barrier of lips and teeth, driving straight in with an irresistible force.