YMW CH 59

Clingy

Xie Guilan wasn’t sleepy at all. He spent the train ride reviewing chemistry papers. At first, Cen Wu tentatively asked if he was asleep. Once he confirmed Xie Guilan was still awake, he started sending messages intermittently.

Not only did he have to coax the guy, but he also had to play the role of an electronic pet. How was Xie Guilan ever going to repay this debt?

【Baby: I’m home. How many stops until you get off?】
【Baby: Cat secretly observing.jpg】

Xie Guilan’s pale, handsome face was half-shadowed in the dim carriage light. He tapped the little cat avatar on his screen, his gaze softening, the usual sharp edges of his demeanor blurring into something gentler.

The guy sitting next to Xie Guilan was also young and bored out of his mind. After a round of mobile games left his neck stiff, he glanced over and was shocked to see Xie Guilan actually holding a test paper.

Bro, are you for real? Trying to get into Imperial University or something?

Leaning closer, the guy asked, “Hey, you play games?”

“No,” Xie Guilan replied flatly.

The guy wasn’t fazed by his coldness. Xie Guilan’s phone was right beside him, and when he accidentally caught a glimpse of the screen, he smirked. “Girlfriend checking in on you?”

Xie Guilan looked up, suddenly finding him much more perceptive. His tone thawed slightly, but his words were a bombshell:

“It’s my boyfriend.”

“Wha—? Huh?!” The guy choked on his water, coughing before managing, “Oh. Uh. That’s… cool too, I guess.”

【Baby: HELLO???】
【Baby: XIE GUILAN, SAY SOMETHING!】

“Sorry,” Xie Guilan said, no longer interested in small talk. “He’s a little clingy. I should reply.”

The guy waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, go ahead.”

As Xie Guilan typed, the carriage lights flickered between stations. When they brightened again at the next stop, the guy finally got a clear look at his face.

“Dude, you’re this good-looking,” he couldn’t help asking, “what does your boyfriend look like?”

Xie Guilan kept his usual icy expression but casually tapped his phone to life, revealing a lockscreen of Cen Wu in that green dress.

“He’s extremely good-looking.”

“Lots of people chase him.”

“But he only likes me.”

The guy: “…”

He stared blankly at the slightly blurry photo. Even pixelated, the subject’s lips were vividly red, teeth gleaming white—an undeniable kind of beauty.

A snack cart rolled by, stocked with melon seeds, chips, and bottled water.

The guy: “I’m full.”

Who could’ve predicted getting force-fed tons of dog food in the middle of the night?

---

Cen Wu waited fifteen minutes with no reply, growing antsy. When his phone finally buzzed, he snatched it up—only to find Xie Guilan had sent him a photo.

No idea when it was taken.

In the dim bathroom light, Xie Guilan—fresh out of the shower—wore only black sweatpants. Water droplets trailed down his abs, following the V-line into his waistband. His pale skin, the cool droop of his peach-blossom eyes, the lean muscle—youthful yet striking.

Cen Wu: “…”
Cen Wu: ???

Bro, what’s with the sudden thirst trap?

He exited the chat and reopened it, just to confirm it was actually Xie Guilan.

What is this bastard plotting now?

After a long internal struggle, he caved and sent a meme:

【Cen Wu: Are you okay?.jpg】

At first, Xie Guilan played innocent.

【Xie Guilan: Was afraid you’d miss me.】

Cen Wu responded with the smiling-vomit middle-aged emoji.

【Cen Wu: Dream on. No one’s missing you.】

Xie Guilan, immune to rejection, sent several more selfies. None were outright explicit, but for Cen Wu, it was already scandalous.

Then came the possessiveness.

【Xie Guilan: I’ll be back tomorrow night. Don’t touch anyone else.】

Cen Wu wanted to touch no one. He was done with men—might even block Xie Guilan. He long-pressed the photos, ready to delete this filth from his phone.

…Yet after five minutes, his finger swiped down instead.

Save.

Cen Wu: “…”

Ears burning, he rationalized: Xie Guilan will never know. It’s his fault for sending them anyway.

Xie Guilan seduced me. Xie Guilan is the worst.

---

The chemistry finals followed the usual format: written test in the morning, lab practical in the afternoon.

Xie Guilan left the exam hall at eleven, planning to grab lunch at a small eatery near the school. As he passed a rice noodle shop, a little bear suddenly blocked his path.

The bear costume was brown, homemade by the shop owner, with an oversized head and an adorably ugly face. The clumsy little bear had to hold its head steady just to walk.

It shoved a flyer into Xie Guilan’s hand—Grand Opening Special: 50% Off All Dishes!

Xie Guilan: “…”

His dark eyes lifted, locking onto the bear with an intensity that made the shop owner sweat. With his sharp, cold features, Xie Guilan looked like he was about to start a fight.

“Uh, student,” the owner hurried over, wiping his forehead nervously. “How about some rice noodles? Just finished your exam, right? I know about that chemistry competition—must’ve been tough. Come in and eat!”

The bear clutched its costume, standing stubbornly in Xie Guilan’s way, refusing to let him leave.

Xie Guilan’s lips thinned. He stepped inside.

Only then did the bear turn to beckon other customers.

Clumsy and endearing, it wobbled as it walked, its oversized head inviting playful pats from passersby.

One guy, however, got a little too handsy, smacking the bear’s head before turning away—only to be yanked back by his collar and shoved forward.

Xie Guilan loomed over him, his expression icy. At 190 cm, his presence alone was suffocating.

The guy opened his mouth to curse, but the words died in his throat when he met Xie Guilan’s darkened gaze.

“Apologize,” Xie Guilan said coldly.

“S-sorry!” The guy stammered, confused but too scared to argue.

Xie Guilan didn’t move.

Realization dawned. The guy quickly turned to the bear. “S-sorry!”

Only then did Xie Guilan release him. The guy didn’t dare stay, scrambling out of the shop like his life depended on it.

The bear, meanwhile, tried to waddle away—only for Xie Guilan to grab its tail.

It stomped its feet, struggling, reaching back to reclaim its tail—

Then, without warning, Xie Guilan yanked off its head.

Revealing a sweaty, flushed face beneath.

“Idiot,” Xie Guilan scolded.

Cen Wu wilted. He hadn’t expected to be caught so easily. Maybe Xie Guilan had recognized him last time too.

After seeing Xie Guilan off at the station, he hadn’t gone home. Instead, he’d bought a ticket for the next train—if Meng Liangping was worried, so was he. He’d come to accompany Xie Guilan during the exam.

He hadn’t slept all night, squeezed into a crowded carriage, his face pale and clammy. The attendant, mistaking him for carsick, had given him a small blanket.

Wrapped tightly in it, he’d lied to Xie Guilan about being home—only to receive those photos in return.

And now Xie Guilan was scolding him.

Cen Wu’s lashes were damp, his hair sticking to his neck, red and sweaty from the stifling costume.

Xie Guilan wiped his face, pulling him to a seat and helping him out of the bear suit. Finally free, Cen Wu exhaled in relief.

“Eaten yet?” Xie Guilan asked.

Cen Wu shook his head weakly.

Xie Guilan ordered him rice noodles, adding an extra fish roe dumpling. Cen Wu’s heart ached at the expense—he’d wanted Xie Guilan to save money, yet here he was, making him spend more.

Caught red-handed, he fumbled for small talk. “Y-you didn’t expect me to come, did you?”

“Didn’t expect it,” Xie Guilan admitted, his dark eyes glinting. Under the table, his shoe nudged Cen Wu’s calf. “Didn’t expect you’d miss me this much.“

“W-who missed you?!” Cen Wu retorted, though his attempt at anger fell flat.

His social anxiety was flaring up—the crowds, the noise, the sweat trickling down his back. His fingers trembled slightly.

Last night, he’d even mapped out escape routes. Going abroad would be safest—even the Cen family might not find me immediately. But the thought of navigating airports and strangers made his skin crawl.

Or just leave Huaijing.

But if he stayed in the country, the Cens could track him down whenever they pleased.

Conclusion: Running is pointless. Just die already.

Ears burning, Cen Wu stabbed his chopsticks into the fish roe dumpling like it had personally offended him.

Xie Guilan smirked, amused. He’d noticed how flustered Cen Wu got when called gege—how easily he softened. It was irresistible to tease him.

“Xie Guilan?” A slightly chubby guy turned at the sound of his voice.

They’d roomed together during a national math competition training camp in their first year. Though Xie Guilan had kept to himself, the guy had never seen him smile until now.

He eyed Cen Wu curiously. “Your brother? He looks younger than you.”

Cen Wu’s striking beauty was still softened by youth, his cheeks round, making him seem no older than sixteen or seventeen.

And he’d heard Xie Guilan call him gege.

Cen Wu’s ears turned scarlet. Damn Xie Guilan and his loose tongue! He stomped on Xie Guilan’s foot under the table.

Xie Guilan neither confirmed nor denied it.

Cen Wu floundered, unable to explain why Xie Guilan would call him that if they weren’t brothers.

The guy scratched his head, baffled but too intimidated to pry.

With Xie Guilan’s afternoon exam approaching, Cen Wu wanted to walk him to the school gates—but couldn’t bear the stares. So he climbed back into the bear suit, blissfully hidden from the world.

Much better.

“Wait for me here.” Xie Guilan found a shady spot under a tree for him. Though the weather had turned chilly, the heavy bear costume was still stifling.

He had wanted Cen Wu to wait in a milk tea shop, but Cen Wu stubbornly refused.

Cen Wu turned his head away. “W-who’s waiting for you?”

“Right, gege isn’t waiting for me,” Xie Guilan said, his voice naturally cool but laced with lazy amusement. His lips curled slightly. “Gege is waiting here for a little dog, isn’t that right?”

Cen Wu’s entire body went numb with embarrassment. He raised a bear paw to cover Xie Guilan’s mouth—what if someone heard them?!

The school gates had opened, and students were filing in for the exam. Xie Guilan caught Cen Wu’s bear paw, pressed a kiss to it, then turned to leave.

Fuming, Cen Wu stood rooted in place. He wanted to walk away, but he was afraid of affecting Xie Guilan’s mood before the test. Instead, he shuffled closer to the gate and waved his paw at him.

No blown kisses this time—after being exposed earlier, he was too embarrassed.

Xie Guilan slung his bag over his shoulder, exam ticket in hand, but just before stepping inside, he brought two fingers to his lips and flicked them outward in a careless, teasing gesture.

Dozens of students were entering the exam hall, and many witnessed it. A few girls craned their necks excitedly, searching for Xie Guilan’s rumored lover—but all they saw was a dorky little bear.

The bear stiffened, its entire body radiating sheer mortification.

---

Once the exam bell rang, Cen Wu pulled off the bear head and plopped onto the school steps, hugging it to his chest. His face was still burning, eyes misty.

Xie Guilan’s exam would last until 5:30 PM. After killing time on his phone, Cen Wu returned the costume to the shop owner around five, then headed to a wonton stall to buy dinner.

Xie Guilan’s train was at seven—too tight a schedule for a proper meal, and train food was awful. The stall had a long line, which hopefully meant it was good.

Too anxious to push through the crowd, Cen Wu queued at the back. But people kept cutting in front of him. Half an hour later, with Xie Guilan’s exam nearly over, he’d barely moved an inch.

Cen Wu: “…”

His throat tightened. Mustering courage, he called out his order number—but the owner seemed to be serving whoever shouted loudest. Cen Wu watched helplessly as person after person jumped the line.

By some miracle, he finally got his order.

Then he turned and locked eyes with a girl behind him. Both froze in mutual panic.

Her number had long been skipped too. Recognizing a fellow socially anxious soul, Cen Wu silently handed her the wontons. “H-here. Take this one.”

“Th-thank you,” she stammered.

Cen Wu got back in line.

---

When Xie Guilan exited the school, he found Cen Wu being jostled at the wonton stall.

Thin and slight, Cen Wu didn’t protest when someone shoved him. He just ducked his head and shuffled aside. Too easy to bully.

“Move if you’re not buying!” a man snapped. “Quit blocking the way!”

“I-I am buying,” Cen Wu whispered, but his voice dissolved into the noise.

Under the flickering stall lights, his shadow wavered like a ghost.

Xie Guilan was supposed to meet some teachers Meng Liangping had recommended, running later than planned. Cen Wu, unaware he’d left, stood with his head bowed.

In the dim evening light, his expression was blank, enduring the shoves without resistance—no trace of the bold, reckless boy who’d once raced motorcycles in the rain.

Only when he spotted Xie Guilan did he inhale sharply and wave.

Then, legs trembling, he pushed forward. “M-move… I haven’t gotten mine yet.”

No one listened. His eyes reddened, and he hastily wiped them before trying again.

Suddenly, the crowd parted.

Xie Guilan, tall and icy-faced, cut an intimidating figure. The man who’d told Cen Wu to get lost shrank back.

“He’s called for his order multiple times,” Xie Guilan said coldly to the stall owner. “Are you deaf?”

The owner had seen Cen Wu—and knew his number was up—but with so many impatient customers, he’d ignored him.

“Whatever,” the owner grunted. “Should’ve spoken louder.”

Still in his school uniform, Xie Guilan seemed like just another kid to him—until a hand fisted in his collar, yanking him forward with terrifying strength.

“Curse him out,” Xie Guilan ordered Cen Wu.

Cen Wu’s lips parted. His mind buzzed—standing here was hard enough, let alone yelling at someone. He tugged Xie Guilan’s sleeve. “L-let’s just go.”

“Why not?” Xie Guilan’s chest burned with frustration. “I thought you were fearless.”

Cen Wu looked up at him, pale and shaking. Realizing something was wrong, Xie Guilan draped his jacket over Cen Wu’s head and led him away.

In a quiet corner, Xie Guilan pulled him close. “What’s wrong?” He kissed the top of Cen Wu’s head through the fabric, then cupped his face—freezing.

The area was crowded. Xie Guilan considered finding a hotel, but Cen Wu clutched his sleeve. “G-go to the station.”

This was the last train tonight. Missing it meant skipping tomorrow’s classes—and jeopardizing Xie Guilan’s shot at the provincial top score.

Xie Guilan: “…”

He bundled Cen Wu tighter in his jacket, then hoisted him onto his back. Cen Wu clung to him, hiding under the coat, shivering intermittently.

Forehead pressed to Xie Guilan’s shoulder, Cen Wu felt the solid breadth of his back and inexplicably teared up.

Xie Guilan carried him toward the station—not far, but within steps, his shoulder grew damp.

Cen Wu lifted his head slightly. A few teardrops had fallen from both eyes, leaving two perfectly symmetrical damp patches on Xie Guilan’s shoulders. He reached up to touch them, murmuring in a small voice, “P-put me down… I’m… I’m tough, I can walk myself.”

Xie Guilan let out a low chuckle, though his lips remained pressed together. He knew next to nothing about Cen Wu—Cen Wu gave endlessly, without conditions, yet never spoke of himself.

It was as if he had walked a long, solitary path, no longer accustomed to leaning on anyone. But Xie Guilan still wanted to be his refuge.

Cen Wu swung his legs lightly, tugging at Xie Guilan’s dark hair as he threatened, “If… if you don’t put me down, I’ll climb onto your shoulders.”

“Fine by me,” Xie Guilan replied, his peach-blossom eyes crinkling, lips curving in a way that suggested far more than just amusement. “I deserve to be ridden. Where do you want to ride? Since you’re so tough, I’ll reward you with another spot too.”