Wen Yingyu · Chat

On the day the list of students recommended for postgraduate studies was posted, Wen Yingyu's name appeared in third place. 你 stared at the white paper pinned to the department bulletin board, verifying it over and over. There were only five spots for the biology department; the first two were held by the top-ranked academic geniuses, and the fourth and fifth by the Student Union President and the Deputy Chair of the Student Association—all of whom had clear extra-credit qualifications. As for Wen Yingyu, his grades were consistently above average, he had no standout research achievements, and he had no history of student government work. Logically, this spot should have gone to the class representative who lived in the lab every day. 你 turned to look at Wen Yingyu standing beside them. He stood there quietly, his gray eyes focused on the list with a faint smile on his lips. Sunlight slanted in from the hallway window, casting warm light and shadows across his fair profile. He wore a beige sweater that revealed the delicate lines of his collarbone, looking as clean as a freshly bloomed jasmine flower. Students gathered around were whispering; some discussed how well-deserved the top two spots were, while others questioned the allocation of the latter ones. But when their gaze swept over to Wen Yingyu, those discussions would instinctively quiet down, as if they couldn't bear to say anything harsh in front of such a gentle face. "Congratulations," 你 said, reaching out to pat Wen Yingyu on the shoulder. Wen Yingyu turned back, a trace of almost imperceptible panic flashing in his eyes, though it was quickly masked by his usual gentle smile. "Thank you," his voice was light as a feather, "I didn't expect it to be me, either." He said it naturally, but 你 couldn't help but feel something was off. If it were truly a pleasant surprise, Wen Yingyu should have appeared more excited. Yet his current reaction felt more like he was waiting for a result he had known about all along. Over the next few days, this sense of dissonance became increasingly apparent. Wen Yingyu began going out frequently, always claiming he had academic lectures to attend or graduate preparatory courses to take. His phone rang more often than before, and he would always step out onto the balcony to take calls, his voice kept very low. Once, 你 accidentally overheard him saying, "Okay, Professor Feng, I understand," into the phone, his tone so respectful it didn't sound like his usual self. Then there were the things that suddenly appeared. A high-end fountain pen that Wen Yingyu claimed he bought on sale at a stationery store. A well-tailored overcoat he said he kept because he'd ordered the wrong size online and returning it was too much trouble. A watch that looked very expensive, which he claimed was a birthday gift from a high school classmate—but 你 remembered clearly that Wen Yingyu's birthday was in the summer, and it was currently late autumn. Whenever 你 tentatively asked about the origin of these items, Wen Yingyu could always provide seemingly reasonable explanations, but a flash of unnatural light would always pass through those gray eyes. He would subconsciously bite his lower lip and rub his fingers against the hem of his clothes—all small habits he only displayed when he was nervous. What bothered 你 the most was the subtle change in Wen Yingyu himself. He had become more cautious, always observing 你's expression before speaking, as if checking what could be said and what could not. His smile remained gentle, but 你 always felt that something was hidden behind it, like looking at a truth through a thin veil—the outline was visible, but the reality was obscured. Sometimes, 你 would wake up in the middle of the night to find Wen Yingyu sitting by the bed, lost in thought. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, casting mottled shadows on his face. His expression was blurred in the darkness, but 你 could feel an indescribable melancholy radiating from him. "What's wrong?" 你 would ask softly. "Nothing, just can't sleep," Wen Yingyu would always reply, then lie back down, curling up in 你's arms. But his body was rigid and his breathing uneven; clearly, he wasn't truly relaxed. 你 began to keep an eye on Wen Yingyu's schedule. They discovered that Wen Yingyu's "academic lectures" were always held at high-end hotels, and the times for those "preparatory courses" were also strange, often in the evening or on weekends. Even more strangely, Wen Yingyu never proactively shared the content of these activities, and even when 你 asked, he would simply say, "Just some professional knowledge," and change the subject. Until that Friday night, when 你 stayed at the library until very late. On the way back to the dorm, passing the college office building, they saw a familiar figure. Wen Yingyu walked out of the office building, accompanied by a middle-aged man. 你 recognized the man—Feng Jibai, the Dean of the School of Biology. They stood at the entrance of the building talking about something; they were too far away to hear the content, but 你 could see Feng Jibai's hand gently caressing Wen Yingyu's shoulder, a gesture too intimate for a normal student-teacher interaction. Wen Yingyu didn't pull away; he even leaned slightly toward the hand, making it easier for it to touch him. Under the dim streetlights, his profile looked exceptionally pale, like transparent porcelain. 你 hid behind the tree shadows, their heart racing. They wanted to step forward and ask, but didn't know how to start. The scene was too ambiguous, making them unable to believe what they were seeing was real. Minutes later, Feng Jibai got into a black sedan and drove away, while Wen Yingyu headed toward the dorms. 你 followed from a distance, watching that familiar figure look exceptionally thin in the night. By the time they returned to the dorm, Wen Yingyu had already showered and was sitting on the bed reading. He had changed into clean pajamas, his hair still damp, glowing softly under the lamp. Seeing 你 enter, he looked up and smiled, as gentle and natural as always. "You're back? You stayed at the library quite late today." 你 nodded, trying to make their voice sound normal: "Yeah, had some research to do. How about you? What did you do today?" "Nothing special, just reading in the dorm," Wen Yingyu closed the book in his hands, "I'm a bit tired, let's get some sleep." It was a lie. 你 knew for a fact it was a lie. But they didn't call him out, only washed up in silence and climbed into bed. In the dark, they could hear Wen Yingyu's light breathing and feel the warmth of his body, but it felt as if an invisible wall stood between them, making 你 feel like he was a stranger. That night, 你 barely closed their eyes. They lay in the dark, replaying all the anomalies of the recent period, trying to find a reasonable explanation. But no matter how they thought about it, they couldn't ignore the speculation that was becoming clearer and clearer in their heart. Before dawn the next morning, Wen Yingyu woke up. 你 quickly pretended to be asleep. After Wen Yingyu confirmed that 你's eyes were still closed, he stealthily put on his clothes and left. You lie in bed, utterly bewildered. It's senior year, he has no classes, so where is he going? Who is he going to see... (Choose your option: A. Continue being a cuckold, B. Go downstairs and follow him to see what he's up to.)