The Beautiful Idiot Is Forced To Play The Villain [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Perhaps because the bewilderment in Lan Zhen’s eyes was too obvious, Pei Ran suppressed his boiling rage, deciding to settle the score with Xing Shixi later.

That’s right, settle the score with Xing Shixi.

To Pei Ran, a pure boy like Lan Zhen—doing something as shameless as sitting on someone’s lap—must have been forced into it by that “green tea” Xing Shixi.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I just grabbed a bit of everything.” He pushed the overflowing metal tray forward and asked, “Do you need me to feed you?”

Lan Zhen shook his head vigorously. He wasn’t a child; he didn’t need to be fed.

Though Pei Ran felt a twinge of regret, he didn’t push it. He pulled another tray toward himself and said lazily, “Is this not the cafeteria? Why is someone just sitting there without buying any food?”

His childish games weren’t enough to bother Xing Shixi.

Xing Shixi pinched Lan Zhen’s soft cheek and adjusted his posture slightly, still keeping the boy pinned in his embrace. “Zhenzhen can’t finish this much food. Why don’t we share?”

Lan Zhen blinked rapidly several times, thinking he must have misheard. How could someone make such an odd request? The line at the counter was short now; he could get food quickly if he wanted.

Confused, Lan Zhen picked up some food and stuffed it into his mouth.

As it turned out, one really shouldn’t try to multitask. He bit into a chili pepper, and the stinging spice surged up instantly. Lan Zhen’s eyes turned red, and tears began to well up at the corners.

He reached for the water bottle, but just as his fingers touched it, Xing Shixi—who had been holding him—suddenly scrambled to move him to a nearby chair. With a serious expression, he said, “I’m sorry. That joke went too far. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

As his tears were gently wiped away, Lan Zhen was still a bit dazed, sticking his tongue out slightly to soothe the spice.

What was he talking about just now? People change their minds so fast these days; I can’t see through them at all.

Suddenly, the phone in his pocket vibrated violently. Lan Zhen vaguely remembered setting it to silent; why were there notification alerts now?

He took out his phone and saw a message from Xu Gu.

The original host had set “Special Notifications” for his most capable lackey, pinning the chat to the top so he could find him instantly to issue orders. Lan Zhen hadn’t known about this after taking over, so he hadn’t disabled the alert.

[Xu Gu: Brother Lan, yesterday was my fault. I don’t have the face to see you.]

Lan Zhen bit the tip of his chopstick, unsure of how to reply.

He scrolled down the message list and realized there were many more messages—together, they were practically a soap opera.

[Mo Changfeng: I’m sorry. Please don’t ignore me.] [Mo Changfeng: Sorry, sorry. Yesterday was all my fault. I didn’t know how to control my emotions.] [Mo Changfeng: Lan Zhen, I promise that was the first and last time I’ll be mean to you. Please, just reply.] …

There were seven or eight messages like this, all sent during class time. Lan Zhen thought for a moment; it was hard to reconcile the grumpy face Mo Changfeng wore in class with these pathetic, pleading messages.

The last one was sent recently.

[Mo Changfeng: I know what’s going on now. You’ve suffered. I’m going to settle things with Wei Chengyang.]

Before Lan Zhen could reply, Wei Chengyang’s message box popped up.

[Wei Chengyang: I found some news about that person you asked about.] [Wei Chengyang: Your roommate is very rude. I’m helping you discipline him.]

While he hadn’t even seen the messages, these three had already performed a whole drama.

Once he understood, Lan Zhen nearly choked on his rice out of shock. Fortunately, Pei Ran noticed his expression and quickly handed him water. He took several gulps before he could swallow.

“Is something important happening?” Pei Ran asked.

The idea of his roommates going to find Wei Chengyang to “avenge” him was too ridiculous to explain directly. Lan Zhen came up with another excuse: “There’s news about Xie Ningqing. I’m going to check it out.”

Xing Shixi suspected Lan Zhen was a player, and Pei Ran likely thought the same. Hearing this, Pei Ran was initially surprised—probably not expecting him to reveal his hand now—and his face then became a mix of hesitation and shyness.

“After the mission is over, can we meet in reality?” As he spoke, he unconsciously straightened his back, his hands resting naturally on his knees, though he accidentally crumpled his trousers in the process.

Xing Shixi also looked over, seemingly very interested in the answer.

Lan Zhen hesitated for a long time without answering. They would certainly never meet again. It would be easy to give a casual answer to lie to them, but to betray someone’s sincerity like that felt far too cruel.

Xing Shixi furrowed his brows, but his words were still forgiving. “It’s too early for this. Let’s wait until the mission is actually near completion.”

[Comment: Hey, you monster, give me back my vengeful streamer! You look like the type who would find out your baby cheated and then silently wash their underwear with a cold face.] [Comment: He’s super in love, nothing can stop him.] [Comment: I’m dying of laughter, it’s so funny watching this ‘green tea’ lie to himself.]

Lan Zhen rushed out of the cafeteria before realizing he had no idea where they were. He picked up his phone and hesitantly asked Wei Chengyang for his location.

Wei Chengyang replied instantly with a location pin.

That instant reply confirmed to Lan Zhen that while Xu Gu and Mo Changfeng sounded determined on the surface, they were actually just “delivering themselves on a silver platter,” and he would have to save them himself. But this was normal—under those oppressive school rules, it was hard for those two to win even if they wanted to.

He followed the location for a long time, eventually arriving at an abandoned sports equipment storage room. A small lock hung on the door, showing signs of being tampered with.

This kind of place was clearly a high-risk zone for campus bullying.

Lan Zhen carefully pulled the door open a crack and peeked inside. Seeing nothing, he poked his head in further and pressed his ear to the door, listening for movement.

Still nothing. Instead, someone pushed him from behind. Lan Zhen stumbled against the door, and the storage room door swung wide open. Unable to stop himself, he fell straight onto his knees on the floor.

Luckily, there were two green gym mats on the ground. Though they were a bit dirty and kicked up a cloud of dust, it didn’t hurt as much as hitting the concrete.

Lan Zhen coughed a few times. He was covered in dust, and his face was smeared with it too.

“Should I call you stupid, or do you just know how to climb the social ladder? You hooked up with Wei Chengyang so quickly.” A man’s voice came from above. Lan Zhen remembered this voice—it was the person who had forced Xu Gu to kiss him before.

They must have been very close; the words sounded as if they were whispered right into his ear, low but clear.

“I really hate this act of yours, pretending to be dumb.” Lan Zhen kept his head down and didn’t speak. Xie Mingze reached out and forced his head up. “Surely you haven’t forgotten what you did to me before?”

One didn’t need to think to know this must be someone the original host had bullied, now waiting for revenge. In this situation, a deep self-reflection on past actions might not be very useful, but if he did nothing, the consequences would be dire.

That day in the dorm, there were too many people and the light was dim, so he hadn’t seen clearly what this person looked like. Now, he saw there was a slight resemblance to the photo of Xie Ningqing. However, Xie Ningqing looked more refined.

Lan Zhen blinked, thinking for a long time. He truly couldn’t remember who this was.

“You forgot? You don’t even remember who I am?” Xie Mingze looked down, taking in every movement. It didn’t look like an act, and that made it even harder to accept. All the disgust he had felt might have meant absolutely nothing to the other person.

“I’m sorry,” Lan Zhen’s voice was small and weak, like a young animal that had just left its mother, able only to make low whimpers.

“Fuck.” Xie Mingze’s sword-like brows furrowed, and he punched the mat next to Lan Zhen, kicking up more dust.

Repaying Lan Zhen for what he had experienced—thinking about this used to excite him, but now it only left him feeling empty. The target of his revenge didn’t even know who he was. It felt as if he were about to reach a climax, only to suddenly go limp; his body was still excited, but his spirit had already withered.

Xie Mingze was looking for an excuse for why he couldn’t follow through. This might have been one reason, but the more important one was likely what had happened that day.

Lan Zhen hadn’t resisted when Xu Gu pinned him to the bed and kissed him. With a red circle around his mouth and his legs kicking helplessly, he had still been a very well-mannered boy; even with his shoes on, he had kept his feet tilted up the whole time so as not to step on someone else’s bedding. He looked so pitiful.

Action always preceded thought. He crouched down, reaching out to pinch Lan Zhen’s face, creating two small dimples in the soft cheeks.

The face was so small he could cover it completely with one hand. Xie Mingze’s heart raced for a few moments. He stared at the red, tender lips as if his soul had been snatched away, completely forgetting his initial plans.

His mind held only one thought: It would be great if I could take him back and hide him away.

A bad temper would be acceptable; a good husband should tolerate all his wife’s flaws. But he could only be like that at home—he couldn’t go out and bully people with that face. What if those people became perverts like him?

Lan Zhen’s fingers trembled. Keenly sensing that the atmosphere was wrong, he quickly asked, “Can you tell me your name? I’ll make sure to remember it.”

Because his cheeks were being pinched, his words were a bit muffled, but the overthinking high school boy understood perfectly.

“Xie Mingze. That’s my name.” Hearing his own voice, Xie Mingze snapped his hand back as if he had just realized what a foolish thing he was doing.

Finally released, Lan Zhen rubbed his aching face. Seeing the other man avoiding his gaze, he proactively reached out and poked Xie Mingze. “Do you know Xie Ningqing?”

They shared the same surname and looked alike; surely there was a connection.

Xie Mingze’s brain hadn’t quite caught up yet. He answered instinctively, “He’s my cousin, but we haven’t been in touch for a long time.”

“Oh.” Lan Zhen nodded. Seeing that he seemed to have a good temper now, Lan Zhen pushed his luck and continued, “What happened between us before?”

At the mention of this, Xie Mingze was like a lit powder keg, radiating an aura of grief and indignation.

Lan Zhen curled up and hugged his knees, his head buried low. His long eyelashes fluttered as he muttered, “I really forgot. I hit my head before and don’t remember anything.”

He looked adorable, and the story was highly believable. Xie Mingze refused to admit he was being a “love-brain,” and within seconds, he believed the explanation.

“You really want to know?” He was a bit hesitant. Unlike the others, his situation could only be described with one word: embarrassing.