Friday, near midnight, the university that had been noisy all day slowly settled into silence.
The dorm lights were already off. Sun Hao came back from outside and was about to lock the dorm door when Zhou Nan, already lying in bed, said, "Don't lock it. Axue just went out to take a call. He hasn't come back yet."
"That must be the junior's call," Sun Hao clicked his tongue. "As expected, juniors are clingy. They cannot stand being apart for even one night."
Zhou Nan laughed. "Exactly. Only a junior could tame this troublemaker."
They were talking about Wen Moxue, the literature department's famed beauty, the kind of strikingly handsome person who stunned at first sight and stayed unforgettable.
Because of him, their literature-focused university, where campus beauty contests had always been fierce, finally enjoyed an unusual peace.
Wen Moxue also had a nickname: the straight-man catcher. Many skeptical straight boys had been defeated by him. Those he had turned away from their original orientation seemed to spread the story across campus.
Yet he himself seemed uninterested in either gender. For two years his dangerous charm reigned, and no one had managed to win him.
Until Fu Jiahang arrived.
Fu Jiahang was a freshman. Because there were not enough dorms for new students, he was placed in their three-person room.
Unsurprisingly, this junior fell for Wen Moxue at first sight and pursued him ardently.
Unlike past suitors who had been rebuffed, Fu Jiahang lived nearby and had both smarts and social polish. Perhaps because of his privileged upbringing, he had a practiced way of wooing someone.
Both roommates could see Wen Moxue was clearly moved.
Talking about their roommate's affairs kept Zhou Nan awake.
"They are not together yet, right? Hehe, I bet the junior will confess on Double Eleven."
"I don't think we will have to wait. I bet they will be together this month."
"I bet we will never be together in this lifetime." A clear voice answered. It came from the subject of their conversation.
Wen Moxue came in. He had already showered; his slightly curled black hair was half dry and hung down, making his snow-white skin and sculpted features even more striking in the dim phone light.
The two roommates exchanged looks, stunned.
They had all assumed the two were about to get together. Wen Moxue's words filled them with questions.
Zhou Nan poked his head out from the bed and teased, "What, did the junior make you mad?"
Wen Moxue locked the door. "No."
"Then why?" Sun Hao asked.
Wen Moxue considered the question and said, "Maybe I was annoyed because when he left today he stepped out with his right foot first."
The roommates were speechless.
What a moody beauty.
But no one could deny his looks.
Wen Moxue was not purely capricious. He actually liked Fu Jiahang: a sunny, clean young man who was not slick or obsequious and did not grovel, someone who was comfortable to be with.
If not for what happened today, he would have been ready to say yes.
Fu Jiahang was local. Today a cousin had an engagement, so he had to go home.
Their relationship had already entered an ambiguous phase. Fu Jiahang, like a devoted dog guarding his partner, clung to him in the dorm as they said goodbye, glancing back again and again as he left.
Then he forgot his phone.
Wen Moxue took the phone intending to return it and, by chance, saw a WeChat message pop up on the screen. He froze.
Dad: Is this your senior? A man who looks like that seems suspicious.
Dad: I can tell at a glance he is a gold digger. He only agrees to be with you because of your money. I do not approve of your relationship.
Wen Moxue: ???
Seeing those two lines, his mind blanked for a moment.
Gold digger. Is he talking about me?
Wen Moxue was incredulous. He had never dated anyone, yet in that person's eyes he was not proper.
Being good-looking makes someone a gold digger. What kind of logic is that?
At that moment he really wanted to unlock Fu Jiahang's phone and reply, I will dig you up.
He had never expected that the mature, handsome, husband-vibe guy he had noticed at the start of the term would have such a filthy mind.
What kind of person was this?
Because of his background, words like gold digger and not proper hit Wen Moxue's sensitive spots hard.
He was so angry he wanted to curse. Just then the phone vibrated: an incoming call from Dad - Fu Cheng.
Perfect timing. Time to roast him.
Wen Moxue's finger hovered over the answer key and then stopped. He was not good at arguing; if he started a confrontation and lost it, that would make him angrier.
He calmed himself, memorized the number, and put the phone back.
He did like Fu Jiahang, and he pretended not to have seen the messages. But his patience had worn thin overnight, and he began to feel turned off by Fu Jiahang.
All this fuss over money, as if money were so admirable.
The more Wen Moxue thought about it, the angrier he became. That night he dreamed of the disgusting face of that man and wished he could smash it.
The next morning, remembering he had not actually smashed it in the dream, he felt even angrier.
Two dark circles hung under his eyes. He grabbed an empty backpack, packed a stack of books, and drifted out like a ghost.
—
The university's was holding a book donation. Wen Moxue had many books he no longer needed and decided to donate some. Otherwise by senior year they would sell for pennies.
He waited under the plane trees at the East Gate. Shuyan, who had agreed to donate with him, jogged over and handed him a cup of milk tea.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. I was stuck in line for milk tea."
"No problem," Wen Moxue accepted it. "Thanks."
They walked to the donation site together.
Shuyan had once lived in their dorm but moved out in sophomore year to live off campus with his boyfriend.
Seeing Wen Moxue's tired expression, he tutted. "The junior really drained you, huh."
Wen Moxue took a sip of milk tea and said with mild disgust, "Stop making me sick."
Sensing something was wrong, Shuyan asked, "What happened?"
Wen Moxue and Shuyan were closest: same department, same class, and even the same phone model. This was not something to tell the other two roommates; it would be awkward living together for another two years.
So it was fine to tell Shuyan.
Wen Moxue told him everything.
"Damn!" Shuyan was incredulous. "Are you sure it was his dad? The handsome guy we saw at the start of the term?"
"The contact said Dad," Wen Moxue shrugged. "Unless Fu Jiahang has a habit of claiming random fathers, it has to be him."
"Damn, I almost had a crush when I first saw him. I did not expect his character to be trash. He acts proper but his mind is dirty. Maybe his wealth came from shady deals. No wonder he is single. Who would want to be with someone like that?"
Fu Jiahang had been pursuing Wen Moxue for nearly two months. They knew a little about his family situation and that his father had been single and even had casual relationships.
They had privately lamented that such a handsome guy was alone at a young age. Now they only felt amused.
Wen Moxue sneered. "Maybe he has so much money he cannot last."
Shuyan had never heard Wen Moxue speak so cruelly.
He could not help but say, "Unexpected. Our campus's unbeatable straight-man killer fails for the first time, and to an older man at that."
Wen Moxue said expressionlessly, "Don't make it sound like I failed to turn him on. Disgusting."
Seeing how angry he was, Shuyan asked, "So what about Fu Jiahang? He seems really decent."
After this, Wen Moxue could not be with him.
He even hated everything connected to him and lashed out: "Like father, like son. He probably thinks I would fall for him because of his money."
Shuyan burst out laughing. "After thousands of days of building liking, one moment of disgust ruins it all."
By then they had reached the donation site. It was Saturday morning and most people were still sleeping, so the booth under the canopy was quiet.
The junior volunteers were excited to see Wen Moxue, blushing and stammering.
The female volunteers, aware he was gay, remained calm and quickly took the books from his bag.
"Senior, did you check each book? Make sure there are no important items inside."
At book donations people often forget things in books, like meal cards, student IDs, exam permits, or even cash in a bank card.
Wen Moxue had been too annoyed to think of this.
After the reminder he said, "No, you can check."
The juniors helped him go through every book.
"Hey, there's something here."
One junior found something tucked into a book and handed it to Wen Moxue.
He looked and saw a note with Fu Cheng's number. He had written the number down yesterday so he would not forget and had tucked it into a book.
Bad luck that it had been found.
The junior, seeing his expression, asked nervously, "Senior, is there a problem?"
Wen Moxue casually put the note in his pocket. "No problem."
After checking all the books, they registered the donations and left.
Even from a distance, Wen Moxue could feel the junior's intense gaze.
He took the note from his pocket. "If I put his number on a telephone pole with an ad for sperm donation, would anyone actually bother him?"
"Better yet, join one of the city's socialite chat groups and post his number. Maybe some gold diggers would come after him."
Wen Moxue paused.
His eyes lit up as he looked at Shuyan. "Would that work?"
"Uh... I do not know," Shuyan admitted. "If the target is not clear, people might not bother. But if someone does, at least they will annoy or disgust him, right?"
Wen Moxue did not give up and grew more excited.
Spurred by Shuyan's suggestion, he devised a truly vicious plan.
"Damn relying on others. I will pretend to be a gold digger myself and go after him. Isn't that more reliable?"
Shuyan was stunned. "This is... overboard. He is an older man. Is he worth such a sacrifice?"
Wen Moxue did not care. "Not a bigger sacrifice than him."
This was Wen Moxue's nature. He held grudges, never forgave easily, and always sought revenge, even at great cost, as long as he could feel he had won.
The most important thing was to disgust this man.
A sly smile slowly appeared at the corner of his mouth. "Gold digger, huh? I will dig him dry."
Shuyan: "..."