“No, it’s like refining nitroglycerin in his own veins!” Anjou said quietly.
“We must stop him from using this skill further, or it will become irreversible.” The Vice Principal wiped the remaining blood off the blade with a tissue and handed it back to Anjou.
In the Lionheart Society’s activity room, all the leaders, led by Vice President Lancelot, were gathered. This was the biggest challenge in the history of the Lionheart Society: their president would be put on trial in an internal college court. The society members quickly reached a consensus to fully support the president. It wasn’t difficult to unify their opinion. Under Caesar’s leadership, the Student Union posed a threat to them, making the Lionheart Society, the college’s oldest fraternity, at risk of being relegated to second place. Their leading position was only maintained because of Chu Zihang. Without this super “A”-rank president, they would stand no chance against the Student Union, which had both “A”-rank Caesar and Chen Motong, as well as “S”-rank Lu Mingfei.
Although that “S”-rank was currently sitting among them, showing solidarity with the group.
However, the fierce members under Chu Zihang’s leadership were obviously inexperienced with matters like the hearing. If Caesar were in the same situation, the Student Union’s lace-clad girls and cunning followers would have already been mobilized, creating a wave of momentum throughout the college. All Lancelot could do was lead the leaders and wait for news.
The door opened, and Finger entered, taking a seat on the sofa and exhaling deeply, “It’s settled! No problem at all!”
After a brief silence, the members, feeling a weight lifted, broke into applause.
Lancelot handed Finger an envelope, which contained a promissory note issued from the society’s emergency funds. Finger took it without hesitation—taking from the president and now taking from the Lionheart Society, just as the Vice Principal would have done.
“The hearing is on me; I’m being paid to solve your troubles,” Finger said confidently. “Instead of frowning here, you might as well go visit Chu Zihang.”
Lancelot stood up with a sudden movement, only now realizing that they hadn’t yet visited Chu Zihang. During Chu Zihang’s coma, visits to the special care unit were forbidden, while the new student Xia Mi had special permission granted by the Principal. Today was the first day the special care unit was open for visits. All the leaders of the Lionheart Society followed Lancelot out, discussing which type of flowers would be suitable.
Lu Mingfei wanted to leave with them, but Finger patted him on the shoulder from behind. “I’ve got some bad news for you—want to hear it?” Finger said, raising an eyebrow.
“Damn it, let’s get it over with. Spill it!” Lu Mingfei didn’t take it too seriously; when had his good-for-nothing senior ever brought good news?
Finger handed him a tissue. “Brace yourself, junior brother. Once you hear this, you might need it to wipe your tears.”
“Bah! It looks like a decent tissue. I’ll save it for wiping my mouth after dinner,” Lu Mingfei folded it neatly and put it in his pocket.
Finger gave him a thumbs-up, grinning. “You’re really bold, junior brother! No matter how big the blow, as long as you have the appetite to eat, that means your spirit is still alive! So, listen up…” He licked his lips. “Caesar proposed to Nono!”
Lu Mingfei froze for a moment, then smiled.
He felt a ringing silence in his ears, no emotion—he wasn’t sad at all. He thought he must have heard it wrong.
It must be a misunderstanding. In a minute, this mistake would be corrected, and everything would go back to how it was. Caesar and Nono would still be boyfriend and girlfriend, but their relationship was still a bit ambiguous. They hadn’t even graduated—how could they be getting married? Principal Anjou, the tyrant of the college, would scold them, saying, “Focus on your studies first! Marriage can wait until after graduation!” That way, he could still spend a few more years being infatuated. Wasn’t college just about crushing on the class beauty or school beauty until everything settled down, and the girl married a rich kid, marking the end of youth? It was all part of the process, wasn’t it? Didn’t they understand the beauty of the process? You shouldn’t accelerate the process at will. Accelerating it so suddenly… Some people who haven’t grown up yet would feel really bad…
Even though he knew he couldn’t change the outcome, could he not at least be allowed to sneakily, in a small way, indulge in a crush before it all ended?
Lu Mingfei stared at Finger. He didn’t know how much time had passed until Finger nodded vigorously and raised three fingers to the sky, swearing that he wasn’t making it up.
He finally felt sadness—overwhelming powerlessness, a feeling of weariness and pain spreading through his entire body. His heart felt too lazy to beat. He wanted to slowly crouch down or just lie on the floor.
He forced himself to stay upright, staring at Finger. “Damn, how do you know?”
“Anyone who wants to get married in the college has to apply for approval, to ensure that unstable bloodlines aren’t passed on to the next generation,” Finger took out a crumpled printed sheet of paper. “This is from the college’s bloodline archives, found in the central control room by chance. When I saw it, I thought, ‘Damn, this is bad for my buddy,’ so I secretly printed a copy to bring out. Am I a good friend or what?”
Lu Mingfei unfolded the paper. It was an “Application for Marriage with A-Rank Student Chen Motong (Student ID A09003),” with Caesar Gattuso as the applicant. It was a stereotypical form—probably copied from some template Caesar had found—and it mainly contained both their personal details, their time of acquaintance, relationship status, and, in line with the idea of “combining excellent bloodlines to nurture excellent offspring,” an attached report issued by the College’s Genetic Science Department. The report stated that, based on blood sample analysis, there was a very low possibility of instability in the offspring of Caesar and Chen Motong. The paperwork seemed thorough, and if not for the Principal suddenly being targeted by the investigation team and all administrative procedures being put on hold, this application might have already been approved.
Just like how marriage in China in the 1950s required organizational approval, Lu Mingfei found this document both absurd and horrifying.
“So… are you still saving the tissue for wiping your mouth?” Finger asked cautiously.
Lu Mingfei looked down at the tissue in his pocket, instinctively using it to wipe his mouth before tossing it to the ground. Who did Finger think he was—the leading man in some melodrama? Would he have a dramatic scene with tears streaming down his face at a 45-degree angle against the wind? He was just an ordinary character, and ordinary people didn’t need tear-streaked profiles. After all, this had nothing to do with him anyway.
“No problem, I’m just going to take a leak,” Lu Mingfei said.
He turned and left, walking forward step by step under Finger’s gaze. His back was slightly hunched, his shoulders heavy, his arms hanging weakly by his sides, growing heavier and heavier. He thought he needed to walk faster, otherwise, before he even reached the end of the corridor, his arms would be dragging on the ground. In Finger’s eyes, he would look either like the defeated Liu Bei or like a monkey that had its bananas taken away.
He finally made it to the end of the corridor, turned the corner, and began to run, rushing into an empty restroom.
He leaned against the door and slowly sat down on the floor, recalling the moments he had with Nono. So many chaotic moments—like when Nono ordered him to run errands for the Student Union’s sailing training, or when she commanded him to buy a blueberry tart for a midnight snack, or when she told him to remember how she liked her coffee, “a latte with one sugar.” All trivial and meaningless details. If he had to pick the highlights, there were only a few…
“This is the real Ricardo M. Lu,” she had said, patting his cheek in the small cinema in front of dozens of Literature Society members. Her smile was hard to read—whether it was caring or teasing.
“So beautiful… no matter who sent it.” She stood beside him, watching the fireworks fade away in the night sky.
“Don’t die!” He shouted as he held a girl who didn’t belong to him in the cold, bone-chilling waters of the Three Gorges. Nono’s long, dark red hair floated in the water like dense seaweed, her bikini revealing her curves. But at that moment, he felt like his blood was about to freeze. He was cold all over, and he was just afraid she’d die… because if she died, he would be lonely again…
Lu Mingze said he was lonely, but Lu Mingfei didn’t really feel that way. During the day, he’d flirt with pretty senior girls, and at night, he’d have midnight snacks and chat with his useless senior brother. What was so lonely about those days?
If the world always stayed like this, it wouldn’t be so bad.
Maybe he was being a bit greedy, wanting to keep everyone as they were when they first met… Chen Wenwen should always be sitting on a sunlit bench, reading The Lover by Marguerite Duras, brooding over a romantic tragedy that had nothing to do with herself. His useless senior should never graduate, so they could live together, eat midnight snacks every night, and speak their hearts, whether good or bad. Nono would always be the red-haired witch who drove her Ferrari with flair—bold and scheming, with a mischievous streak. Getting married was still a distant future for her; she hadn’t learned how to cook yet and stubbornly liked eating ice cream the color of her hair. She’d race down dark mountain roads with him in the middle of the night…
But things change. They all left, and he remained behind.
He looked up and rubbed his dejected face in the mirror.
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