By noon, he finally mustered up the courage and, feigning calmness, pestered Cen Zeng: “I just got out of class, starving like crazy, let’s have lunch together. I’m too lazy to go out tonight, so let’s discuss what to have for dinner. I can order the dishes, right?”

Very good, very Cheng Shuo, very non-negotiable, not OOC at all.

The man himself made the above judgment about his own message.

Cen Zeng finally didn't reply with question marks anymore.

“Okay, which cafeteria do you want to go to?”

He was still at home.

He thought for a moment and, to avoid blowing his cover, named one close to his academic building.

Cen Zeng replied to him, "Wait for me for half an hour."

Just in time, Cheng Shuo drove and parked at the gym closest to the university, walked over on foot, and even remembered to bring his backpack, putting on his usual nonchalant air.

Cen Zeng was the same as always. It was winter, a bit cold, and he was wearing a down jacket, which finally made him look not so gaunt.

Cheng Shuo ordered a bowl of Malatang, thought for a moment, and asked for extra spice. He needed some sensory stimulation to make him feel like he had truly returned to the human world. Cen Zeng, on the other hand, was eating a simple stir-fry from the cafeteria.

“The chicken soup last time was good,” he said casually. “Can I have it again tonight?”

Cen Zeng looked up at him and said, “Yes, is there anything else you want to eat?”

“You’re from the south, right…?” Cheng Shuo said. “I seem to remember you’re not a local.”

“Mhm…” He really didn’t say much.

“Then make me some dishes from your hometown.” He took a breath. “I’m tired of eating out every day.”

“It’s very light,” Cen Zeng replied. “You might not be used to it.”

“What’s there to not be used to…?” Cheng Shuo waved his hand dismissively. “It’s better than eating out anyway.”

Cen Zeng thought for a moment and said, “Then I’ll go grocery shopping after my class. It might be quite late by the time it’s ready.”

“I’ll drive you,” Cheng Shuo waved his hand. “Otherwise, it’ll be too slow. Want to buy some seafood?”

Cen Zeng nodded and said it wasn’t the right season, so it might not taste as good.

“That’s fine,” Cheng Shuo replied. “We’ll eat whatever’s available, or we can wait until summer to eat the freshest ones.”

He acted so nonchalant that he almost deceived himself.

Cen Zeng didn’t respond to that. He just changed the subject: “I should be done at five-thirty.”

“Alright…” Cheng Shuo nodded at him. “I’ll hit the gym this afternoon and come pick you up for the market around that time. I can have some protein powder right after my workout. We should be able to eat before nine this way, right?”

Cen Zeng said that shouldn’t be a problem.

And so, the two of them hastily parted ways.

Cheng Shuo went to class and met up with Chen Ziheng at three in the afternoon.

This big brother finally wasn’t looking at a PowerPoint this time. His laptop was put away beside him as he looked at Cheng Shuo: “Go on, what is it? What’s so serious that it’s forced you to speak like a human being?”

Cheng Shuo couldn’t be bothered to trade barbs with Chen Ziheng anymore. He was silent for a moment before saying, “This might sound a bit outrageous.”

“How outrageous?” The person opposite him was intrigued.

“My roommate, Cen Zeng, I think he’s being PUA’d by his advisor. And I suspect he’s not the only victim. I was hoping you could help me ask around, and I also want to ask you, if we decide to expose this, what’s the best way to protect him and the other victims.”

“What do you mean, you think?” Chen Ziheng looked at him. “And how do you know there are other victims?”

A very reasonable question.

“It’s complicated. But Cen Zeng’s advisor is very famous.” Cheng Shuo’s tone was a bit urgent. “I searched for old posts. A few years ago, a fifth-year senior from the university jumped off a building. Because it didn’t happen on campus, there were only a few scattered exposé posts online. All I can find now are remnants.”

“If so, assuming your feeling is correct and this person is still treating students this way, is your roommate willing to expose him?”

Chen Ziheng asked, “Or, do you know how to contact anyone who knew the student who jumped?”

Cheng Shuo said, “I know someone who knew the student who jumped. I’ll go ask.”

“But it’s been too long,” Chen Ziheng said. “It was too long ago.”

“What if there are living victims? My roommate, and others. Besides PUA, there’s also sexual harassment.”

“But, have you considered whether the victims would be willing to speak out? This is a huge trauma for them.” Chen Ziheng’s tone was very calm. “If their emotional state is already poor, rushing to expose this would be extremely difficult.”

Would Cen Zeng be willing to speak out?

“Then what do you think would be the best course of action?”

“You said your roommate is being PUA’d. Is his mental state okay? Is he willing to see a counselor at the hospital?”

Chen Ziheng looked at him. “Or, is it possible for him to switch advisors? First, gather information and confirm the victims’ conditions. The decision to expose this or not must be made by the victims. If they are willing, bring them to me, and we’ll talk again.”

“My roommate…” he thought for a moment, then said, “I don’t know.”

“If you don’t know anything, then go ask.” Chen Ziheng looked at him. “Don’t just suddenly come to me and freak out.”

After saying this, he still resignedly said, “What department is your roommate in? I can help you ask around if this advisor has any backing, and how difficult he is to deal with.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you thanking me for? You’ve been crazy for more than just a day or two. It’s rare for you to want to do something good, so I can’t exactly tell you to get lost. After all, I still have to eat with Auntie Zhong and Uncle Cheng during the New Year.”

“Just when I was about to say you’re a good person, I should’ve known a dog’s mouth can’t spit out ivory tusks.”

“Do you want my help asking around or not?”

“He’s in Clinical Medicine…” Cheng Shuo said. “His name is Cen Zeng.”

He had said this not long ago, and now he had to say it again, “Cen as in 'mountain-today,' Zeng as in 'to increase'."

Chen Ziheng nodded, said he got it, that it sounded a bit familiar, and that he’d ask around for him later. “I’m heading to the Student Council office first.”

“If you know anyone who knows his advisor, please connect them with me.”

Chen Ziheng made an OK sign and got up, leaving in a hurry.

With nothing to do, Cheng Shuo decided to actually go work out for an hour. Today was leg day. After his workout, he took a shower, drove around to the South Gate, and picked up Cen Zeng.

Dusk was approaching, casting a golden glow on Cen Zeng’s face, which always gave Cheng Shuo the illusion that he was about to melt.

“You’re pretty slow,” he maintained his usual tone. “Did your class run late?”

Cen Zeng glanced back at him, showing a rare spark of life: “I walked over. Have you been waiting long?”

“Not long,” he coughed. “Which market are we going to?”

In an era of instant home delivery, two university students were picking out vegetables in the evening.

Cen Zeng seemed very skilled at everything—haggling, choosing vegetables, asking if things were fresh. He bought a chicken and had the vendor process it, then bought some shiitake mushrooms, shrimp, and green vegetables.

Back home, he deftly blanched the chicken.

Cheng Shuo was in the living room, acting like his heartless self, scrolling through his phone, but he couldn't keep up the act and edged toward the kitchen: “Can I help you wash the vegetables?”

Cen Zeng’s eyelashes fluttered, and he looked up: “No need. You let me stay here, so it’s only right that I cook for you.”

‘There he goes again,’ Cheng Shuo thought. ‘Trying to keep things even, Cen Zeng? Then what about the things you don't know about? How are you going to calculate that?’

He swallowed all his words. “I’m bored.”

Cen Zeng thought for a moment and pushed a plastic bag of choy sum towards him: “Then you can wash the vegetables. Thanks.”

“You really don’t have to be so polite,” Cheng Shuo said. “We’ve been living together for a month now.”

Cen Zeng seemed to be choked up by his words, which put Cheng Shuo in a great mood: “Just wash them, right?”

“The outer parts of each stalk, if you think they’re too old, you can pick them off.”

Cheng Shuo hummed a song and nodded. He washed the vegetables, but ended up splashing more water than he washed greens.

By the time he was done, the kitchen counter was covered in a layer of water.

Cen Zeng didn’t say anything, just took the green vegetables he had placed in a bowl and said it was fine. “If you’re still bored, you can help me mince some garlic.”

Cheng Shuo nodded and started peeling garlic. Before he had peeled more than a few cloves, Cen Zeng came over and said, “You can smash it, it’s easier to peel.”

Cheng Shuo looked at him.

Cen Zeng took the kitchen knife from the side and said, “Look, like this.”

His hand was very steady, slender and long, fitting the stereotype of a surgeon perfectly.

With one smash and press, the skin of the garlic clove burst open.

“Let me try.” Cheng Shuo found it amusing. He brought the knife up and smashed down, sending a clove of garlic rolling onto the floor.

The two of them stood face to face, and Cen Zeng’s eyes curved into a slight smile.

“It’s okay…” He picked it up, his tone softening a little. “I couldn’t do it at first either. You’ll get it with more practice.”

He demonstrated again, this time explaining in more detail, saying his hand needed to press on a certain point of the clove to increase the pressure.

Cheng Shuo copied him and finally managed to smash the poor garlic open.

“That’s it.”

They looked at each other, and the person opposite him gave a beautiful, relaxed smile and nodded at him.

Cheng Shuo found himself smiling back unconsciously. “So how do you mince the garlic? Teach me.”

He held the knife, picking up the few small white cloves he had managed to peel with all his might.

Cen Zeng thought for a moment, then came closer to adjust his posture.

They rarely stood so close. It was usually in bed, and later, not even in bed.

The tips of Cheng Shuo’s fingers went inexplicably numb, as if a current was passing through them, and he gripped the knife a little tighter.

Cen Zeng was two or three centimeters taller than him. He stood behind Cheng Shuo, half-enveloping him, holding his hand. The faint scent of their shared laundry detergent lingered in the air. “Like this.”

Cheng Shuo followed his force and chopped a few times, feeling a little strange all over.

The warm palm against the back of his hand wasn't heavy, but it made him feel a bit uncomfortable.

He told himself he should be focusing on the knife right now, not on Cen Zeng’s hand.

“Yes, just chop like that. It doesn’t need to be too fine. Don’t hurt your hand.” Cen Zeng seemed to have realized something as well and quickly let go of him, turning to scoop the chicken out of the boiling water.

Cheng Shuo gripped the knife, his eyes darting around before finally settling back on the garlic.