NOVEL WEB Ch. 4
Chapter 4
Lin Zhe had barely slept at all. He’d spent the night tossing in bed, replaying every girl he’d ever “cleared” in his mind.
The hundred-plus missed calls on his phone were proof that they’d all remembered.
The most recent timeline belonged to Chen Zhijing.
So now Lin Zhe was stuck wondering how on earth he was supposed to face them.
After a quick wash-up he leaned over the sink and stared at his reflection. His messy black fringe was almost covering his eyes, and sleeplessness had painted two fresh bruises underneath.
Yesterday had been the weekend; today was day one of university military training and the opening ceremony.
He was already in the standard camouflage uniform, the webbed belt cinching his waist and making him look taller, sharper—finally rid of any lingering boyishness.
He pulled the cap on, stepped out of the bathroom, and Liu Xuefei—who’d been waiting—immediately squeezed past him.
Han Xinglong, already dressed, clapped a sympathetic hand on Lin Zhe’s shoulder. “Xiao Lin, those bags under your eyes could carry groceries. Rough night?”
Lin Zhe answered with a faint smile and said nothing.
Dorm Head Yang Zhen drifted over, slung an arm across Lin Zhe’s shoulders and dropped his voice.
“Xiao Lin, how far did you and Chen Zhijing get yesterday?”
Lin Zhe blinked. “Get where?”
Han Xinglong chimed in, grinning. “You whisked her away last night. Don’t tell us nothing happened.”
Lin Zhe stayed deadpan. “Whisked is a strong word. We just walked back to campus together.”
They clearly didn’t buy it, but let it go, trading a look that said we-know-better.
Lin Zhe sighed, then turned serious. “What if I told you that girl is my ex-girlfriend—like, freshly ex?”
The smiles froze on their faces.
“No way...”
“Wait, what...”
Just then Liu Xuefei finished up, camo cap askew, ruffling his hair as he stepped out. “What’re you guys gossiping about?”
Dormitory 502, full house.
“Nothing,” Lin Zhe said. “Let’s hustle—if we’re late the canteen turns into a war zone.”
He scooped his light-blue-lensed half-frames off the desk and settled them on the bridge of his nose; instantly the lenses lent him a bookish air. The tinted glass had no prescription—its only job was to spare him the color of other people’s souls.
He locked the door behind them and they jogged downstairs.
A few days on campus had already taught them the cafeteria’s rhythms: right about now the lines would snake out of every window.
They’d barely reached the ground floor when Yang Zhen suddenly announced he was having breakfast with his girlfriend.
Then he caught Lin Zhe by the sleeve.
“Oh, she specifically said to bring you.”
Lin Zhe frowned. “You two lovebirds want me third-wheeling? Seriously?”
Yang Zhen shrugged, as clueless as Lin Zhe.
Guy actually does whatever his girlfriend says...
While the other two roommates headed on, Lin Zhe followed Yang Zhen outside—and stopped short.
Under a nearby tree stood Chen Zhijing and her own dorm head.
Chen Zhijing was also in camo, the oversized uniform making her look even smaller. Head down, she was worrying the hem of her jacket, as out of place as a lone snowflake on a busy street.
The moment their dorm head spotted the boys she yanked Yang Zhen forward and—without ceremony—shoved Lin Zhe in the back.
The push sent him stumbling right in front of Chen Zhijing.
She flinched, tiny hands fluttering, words failing. She’d even bitten her tongue in surprise.
“Eep—” A soft, involuntary squeak.
Lin Zhe took in her panicked cuteness and let his expression soften into well-what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you.
The little clam-shell was trying so hard.
“Come on,” he said mildly. “Breakfast first.”
So Yang Zhen and his girlfriend led the way, while Chen Zhijing trailed after Lin Zhe like an obedient shadow.
She didn’t speak, only stole glances at his profile; amber eyes flickered, then brightened.
If she’d had a tail, it would’ve been wagging.
Lin Zhe knew his girlfriend inside out: textbook social anxiety, occasionally sliding into the thousand-yard stare of a dried-up fish. After he’d “patched” her, she’d improved—she could manage small talk now—but she still wore aloofness like armor over her nerves.
Up ahead, Yang Zhen was whispering with his girlfriend. Whatever she told him made him shoot an incredulous look back at Lin Zhe and Chen Zhijing before she tugged him forward again.
Yang Zhen hadn’t expected Lin Zhe’s throw-away line to be the truth.
His girlfriend murmured, “I only found out last night. They’d had some tiff, so they were ignoring each other.”
Yang Zhen could read the subtext clear as daylight: she was playing matchmaker, determined to nudge the two of them back together.
She had no idea exactly what had happened, but Chen Zhijing, who had been trailing behind Lin Zhe, finally mustered the courage to reach out and tug the hem of his shirt.
“Xiao Lin,” she asked carefully, “have you been angry with me these past few days for ignoring you?”
Lin Zhe stopped at the words. He lowered his head slightly, the dark hair across his forehead hiding whatever was in his eyes.
The moment the question left her lips, Chen Zhijing felt herself shrink. Sudden unease—and helplessness—washed over her.
What if Xiao Lin really was angry?
I’m such an idiot. How could I forget my own boyfriend? Only the day before check-in he’d confessed and we’d become a couple—and then I went and acted like a complete airhead, erasing him from my mind.