Around seven or eight in the evening—prime time for college students to head off-campus in lively packs—Guo Chouyan slipped into the boys' dormitory as if she owned the place.
She went straight to her brother Guo Chouzhou's room and plopped herself down on the only bed with its blanket folded into a perfect square.
The four-man dorm was barely the size of a tofu block. Every other bed looked like a natural disaster zone: clothes tossed everywhere, personal items scattered across desks, walls plastered with posters of actresses and idols.
Only her brother's corner was spotless, almost gleaming—textbooks neatly stacked, a row of horror novels arranged with military precision. He was the lone wolf of the building: no nightlife, no socializing, no fun—just him and his books.
At the moment, Guo Chouzhou was glued to his computer screen, immersed in some newly released violent game, eyes shining with adrenaline as he hacked his way through virtual enemies.
No matter how impatient she felt, Chouyan knew better than to interrupt him mid-battle. Only when he finished a round did she sneer, arms crossed:
"Seriously, is this what you call living? Reading in the library, reading in the dorm, even gaming alone. People out there form teams, you know."
Chouzhou finally swiveled around, shadows settling back over his cold eyes.
"In this," he said calmly, "I'm not like you—stick to anyone who walks by. I have nothing to talk about with ordinary people."
"Hah." Chouyan snorted. "Call it noble if you want. But honestly? You're just antisocial. I don't care how smart you are—without any people skills, you'll crash and burn the moment you graduate."
"And with your oh-so-high emotional intelligence," he shot back, "all you do is fool around with your little gang and get into trouble. Every mess you make ends up in my lap. So? What is it this time?"
They shared blood, but almost nothing else. If she didn't need something, she wouldn't even bother speaking to him.
Chouyan's expression flipped instantly into a flattering grin.
"Don't make me sound so utilitarian! Can't I care about my lonely brother once in a while? You stay alone like this, you'll suffocate. For your health, how about you get a girlfriend?"
One of Guo Chouzhou's thick eyebrows lifted. That was new.
"Oh? Since when does my personal life concern you? Couldn't win Mo Lu, so now you're using me as a substitute target?"
No matter how she tried to act, nothing escaped her genius brother's radar. Realizing pretense was pointless, she pulled out a photo and tossed it beside his keyboard.
"This girl—Zeng Shunxi, the beauty queen of the Chinese Department. I think she likes you. If you don't mind… accepting her, I'd be eternally grateful!"
With that, she gave him an exaggerated bow and hurried out. Getting him to help used to be easy—small favors, just a flick of his fingers. But this time involved his privacy, and he hated getting close to people. Even she wasn't sure he'd budge.
All she could do was pray he'd show some mercy and remove the obstacle standing between her and Mo Lu.
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At 12:15, that brief moment when she could see him, something felt different. Zeng Shunxi's breath came quick and shallow, heart pounding.
Leaning over the railing, she waited for the exact moment Guo Chouzhou appeared—today, she had finally made up her mind. She wouldn't keep watching him from afar. She was going to confess.
Same time, same place.
Guo Chouzhou walked down the hallway in a black jacket over a crisp white shirt, one hand in his pocket—simple but impossibly cool, radiating presence even though he was alone.
Shunxi didn't think—she just ran.
She rounded the last step too fast and crashed straight into his chest. Even such a messy, accidental touch made her dizzy. Her mind went blank; the confession she'd rehearsed for three days evaporated. Her face flushed red like a sunset about to explode.
When she finally looked up, she met his eyes—calm, unreadable, and slightly questioning. Panic shot through her, and she ducked her head again, voice trembling, barely above a whisper.
"I—I'm sorry, Guo Chouzhou… um, h-hello… I… I wanted to… ask you something… Can I… um… can I have your… phone number?"
She rambled nonsense, stumbling everywhere except the one sentence she meant to say: I like you.
And if he refused, what excuse would she have to see him next time?
Mortified, she wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and disappear—but a tiny one percent of hope kept her rooted in place.
"130315…"
Chouzhou recognized her instantly—she was the girl from Chouyan's photo. Unexpectedly, his whimsical sister hadn't been lying this time. Curious what game this girl was playing, he lazily recited his number.
Shunxi stood frozen, stunned by how easy that was. By the time she fumbled out a notebook, he'd already finished.
"S-sorry—c-can you say it again?" she stammered, nearly swallowing her tongue.
Guo Chouzhou gave her a small, knowing smile and waved goodbye.
A hint, and a test.
Whether the game began or ended… was all up to Zeng Shunxi now.