NOVEL WEB Chapter 28 - Eavesdropping.
“I’ve never seen you before,” Yan Mei said.
Although Bo Zhehan’s reaction wasn’t visible, the chaotic sound of something knocking against the desk made it easy to imagine his panicked, flustered state.
Bo Zhehan’s reaction was entirely understandable.
After all, Yan Mei had actually initiated a conversation with him.
A few days ago, he wouldn’t have even dared to dream of such a thing, yet now it was unfolding before his very eyes.
Reason tugged at him, trying to hold him back.
But the surge of joy in his heart quickly overwhelmed it.
“…I, uh, it’s because I wasn’t living in the dorm before,” Bo Zhehan stammered, his voice trembling as he tried to suppress his excitement. “I’m also from the math department. I don’t know if you remember, but my name is Bo Zhehan. I’m the one who partnered with you to practice badminton during PE class…”
Yan Mei replied, “Hmm.”
It was just a single syllable, but Bo Zhehan was already overjoyed, not daring to do anything that might offend him.
Ye Jishu could hear the creaking of the bed frame.
Bo Zhehan was probably fidgeting nervously, carefully deliberating over his next words.
“Are you going to stay here for good?”
“No, no,” Bo Zhehan quickly responded. “I’m only staying in the dorm temporarily because of an injury. I’ll be leaving after this.”
Ye Jishu took in the entire conversation.
He remained in his prone position, face down on the table, without lifting his head.
Because of this, he couldn’t see their expressions.
He could only infer their emotions from the dialogue.
The room fell silent.
Ye Jishu deliberately slowed his breathing, but he could still hear the loud thumping of his own heartbeat.
Then, something changed. He couldn’t tell what Yan Mei had done or what expression he wore, but suddenly, Bo Zhehan’s courage seemed to grow.
The sound of footsteps came closer, accompanied by an urgent voice.
“Um, I wanted to ask… Your birthday—it’s coming up soon, right? I know you’ve never answered this question before, but I really want to—”
“June 29.”
Bo Zhehan froze for a moment, then burst into ecstatic delight.
“Ah, ah, got it!”
“…”
[Yan Mei never said when his birthday was.]
That was everyone’s only impression.
All he had ever mentioned was that it was sometime at the end of June. In his first year of university, many people quietly regretted not having the chance to celebrate his birthday.
The conversation between Yan Mei and Bo Zhehan continued.
“Are you free that day?”
“I have something to do.”
Yan Mei declined.
Ye Jishu, still resting his head on his arms, twitched his fingers slightly.
“Ah, I see…” Bo Zhehan’s voice sounded a bit strained. “Then, could you give me your contact information?”
“Why don’t you give me yours instead?”
Yan Mei’s response was impeccable.
Though he didn’t make any promises, he still left a sliver of unrealistic hope—that perhaps, at some point, he might add Bo Zhehan as a contact.
Sure enough, Bo Zhehan’s tone grew noticeably more cheerful. “Okay.”
“…” Ye Jishu.
[Yan Mei could actually initiate conversations.]
The two continued chatting about random topics.
Ye Jishu didn’t know how long he maintained this posture. His arms were numb, and the dialogue between the other two began to fade into the background.
[His body felt uncomfortable.]
[His chest was tight and heavy, a lingering unease. Was it because he hadn’t fully recovered from his cold?]
It felt as if his mind was crammed with countless thoughts.
Yet, looking back, he realized he hadn’t really been thinking about anything.
[How much longer until this ends…?]
Suddenly, Ye Jishu felt a cold sensation on the back of his neck.
The unexpected touch made him shudder. He abruptly lifted his head from the table and locked eyes with Yan Mei, who was staring directly at him.
At the same time, Yan Mei’s hand remained on the back of his neck.
Even as Ye Jishu shifted back and pulled his chair away with a screech, the hand didn’t let go, preventing him from retreating further.
“Awake now?” Yan Mei asked with a smile.
Although his lips curved into a smile, the darkness in his eyes betrayed the gloominess of his mood.
Had Yan Mei noticed he was awake? From the beginning? Or just now…
As Ye Jishu struggled for words, Yan Mei suddenly leaned down, pressing his forehead against Ye Jishu’s.
“Your fever’s finally gone down,” Yan Mei murmured. “Jishu, you really don’t know how to take care of yourself… What would you do without me?”
The contact of their skin should have been warm.
But instead, it was chillingly cold.
[What would you do without me.]
In truth, Yan Mei’s actions seemed more like those of someone who couldn’t let go.
At such close proximity, anyone’s attention would inevitably be drawn into those rare, deep black eyes, forgetting whatever they had been thinking.
Yan Mei pulled back slightly and said, “I’ll be leaving for three days. Jishu, if anything happens, remember to message me.”
Ye Jishu froze for a moment.
Since they’d started dating, the two had never been apart for so long.
They spent nearly half of each day together, and if not for their differing majors, they might have been inseparable.
Hearing the timeline, Ye Jishu felt a bit uneasy at the thought of not seeing Yan Mei. But he quickly responded, “…Okay.”
“I don’t want to go either,” Yan Mei said. “But the field trip is mandatory.”
Ye Jishu knew that Yan Mei’s major was folklore studies.
More than attending lectures, it involved a lot of field research and reporting.
With finals approaching, Yan Mei’s fieldwork was likely tied to his coursework, making it unavoidable.
Ye Jishu nodded understandingly. “Got it.”
Yan Mei’s hand, which rested on the back of his neck, slid upward. Then, leaning in again, he planted a lingering kiss on the small mole on Ye Jishu’s nose bridge.
Afterward, Yan Mei stepped back, flashing him a smile.
Ye Jishu’s gaze followed Yan Mei as he left, only shifting away when the dorm door closed and Yan Mei’s figure disappeared.
Having sweated from his fever, Ye Jishu felt sticky and uncomfortable.
He went to the bathroom to take a shower and changed into his pajamas.
When he returned, Bo Zhehan was still sitting on his bed, staring blankly in the direction Yan Mei had left.
“…”
Ye Jishu ignored him and instead looked at the table.
The flimsy paper cup had been replaced by a glass one.
And the little goldfish now swam freely in a small fish tank, carefree and serene.
[Yan Mei had changed the water.]
A small flicker of joy stirred in Ye Jishu’s heart.
“…”
Ye Jishu stared at Bo Zhehan, narrowing his eyes.
Seeing this expression, Bo Zhehan panicked instantly. The excitement on his face faded significantly, and he hurried to explain, “No, no, I didn’t mean that I hate fish. I just think… don’t you find fish pitiful? Trapped in a tank by humans, unable to see the outside world, living a routine life… so ignorant…”
“I don’t.”
Ye Jishu interrupted him mid-sentence.
This only made Bo Zhehan more flustered.
Desperately searching for a way out, an idea suddenly came to him—he’d realized how sensitive Ye Jishu was whenever Yan Mei was mentioned.
Usually, Ye Jishu’s face was perpetually expressionless.
Even when he was offended, his response was often just a glance, unless someone crossed a line physically—then he’d retaliate swiftly and decisively.
If he were a character in a game, he’d be the type that executes clean, straightforward moves without any delays or casting times.
But having just witnessed the interaction between Yan Mei and Ye Jishu, Bo Zhehan could sense a difference.
When Ye Jishu was with Yan Mei, his demeanor changed.
[He seemed more… alive.]
So now, as Ye Jishu was staring at him, Bo Zhehan’s first instinct was to bring up Yan Mei.
“By the way, I didn’t realize Yan Mei had such a personality. Just now, when I asked him about his birthday, he—”
Ye Jishu glanced at him.
Then, without a word, he climbed into his bed and, with a swift motion, pulled the curtain closed.
Bo Zhehan: “…”
He stared at the curtain for a few seconds and then said, “I asked someone to bring bedding over. Since we’re going to be roommates for a few days, if anything bothers you, feel free to let me know… After all, Yan Mei cares about you a lot.”
[Cares about me…]
Inside the enclosed bed, Ye Jishu didn’t respond.
He heard footsteps, followed by the sound of the dorm door opening and closing—Bo Zhehan had temporarily left.
Ye Jishu picked up his phone.
Several unread notifications were displayed on the screen.
He clicked the “x” symbol to close all the game notifications before checking his messages.
There were several red dots on the university forum app.
Ye Jishu opened it.
The first thing that appeared was a photo of a poor animal, its eyes gouged out and bloodstreaked, rolling lifelessly on a lab table.
Beneath the gruesome image was a gentle, mild-mannered message from Wen Yuhe:
[How are you doing?]
[I saw the message was read—was that you?]
[It couldn’t be…]
Then there was the most recent message from earlier that morning:
[I’m sorry, I won’t do that again.]
“…”
Ye Jishu’s face showed a puzzled expression.
If it were anyone else, they would have immediately followed up with questions about the abrupt apology.
But since he and Wen Yuhe had no real connection—the only link between them being Yan Mei—he didn’t, nor did he intend to, delve into the meaning of the message.
Instead, he simply typed back, [Okay. Thanks before.]
That should be enough to close the topic.
He exited the forum app.
Next was the message inbox.
There was a missed call from his counselor.
Unable to reach him, the counselor had left a message instead:
[The department is aware of what happened with Professor Chen. Regarding the modeling competition paper, the school will give you a response after discussion. As for Professor Chen’s incident, Ye, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. If you have any issues, feel free to reach out to me.]
Professor Chen… an incident?
Ye Jishu stared at the message for a few seconds before closing it. He didn’t search for more details.
After clearing all his notifications, there was one task left.
The streaming platform.
He had previously agreed to join a project.
The organizer had messaged back, saying they’d announce the project today. Since he didn’t have an official account, they suggested he create one now.
Ye Jishu downloaded the app.
Logging in with his phone number made registration easy. Thankfully, the process wasn’t troublesome. He simply entered “yjs” as his username and sent it to the organizer.
His avatar remained the default one, but that was enough.
[Work… finally done.]
The first stream was scheduled for the night after tomorrow.
The main focus would be for the project’s streamers to interact with one another, get familiar with their roles, and engage with fans in the comment section.
The game they’d be playing had already been outlined—it seemed to be a horror-themed game that supported multiplayer, designed to easily stir up excitement.
Apparently, it involved animal mutilation as part of its theme.
Ye Jishu didn’t have to worry about chatting; his role was as the “technical expert.” His only responsibility was to help everyone clear stages when they got stuck.
If possible, he wouldn’t even have to speak.
Ye Jishu turned off his phone screen.
It felt like his “social battery” for the day had been completely drained.
No matter how much sleep he got, there was still an indescribable fatigue weighing him down, along with a persistent heaviness in his chest.
He raised his hand and touched his forehead, where it seemed the cold sensation from earlier still lingered faintly.
He couldn’t help but think about Yan Mei’s birthday.
The math department was different from other faculties.
By this time before finals, there were almost no more major classes, leaving students to focus on self-study and exam preparation.
This meant that tomorrow, he only had one class the entire day.
Once that was over, he’d be free.
Ye Jishu rolled over, clutching his phone tightly.
[I’ll have money soon.]
[Even though Yan Mei said he had plans that day, I don’t know what they are… whether it will take too long or whether he might end up spending it with me. But still… I want to buy Yan Mei a gift…]