Pandora’s Box

Please READ disclaimer: My mandarin is absolutely terrible so this is mostly machine translated.
I will try my best to keep the story as close to the original text as possible.
If there are slight discrepancies, it is to make sense of the language gap and make it readable. This is by no means near sufficient compared to any translations taking place or is this meant to replace it. I simply really like this story and would like to share this.
I am not a writer so my apologies in advance if there are grammatical errors.
I’m a lone soldier here.

I forced myself to continue pretending to sleep for a while longer.
Only when they went into the kitchen did I take advantage of that situation to slip back into the bedroom.

Only gaming could nourish my parched heart.
I went only to earn some kills with DV, and achieved inner peace with my impressive record along with a small increase in my WeChat balance.

However, once I went offline, I felt tired and empty.
I still could not sleep.

I didn’t see new and interesting on TikTok, Weibo, and the gaming forum.
There was also nothing else to do, so I pulled out the notebook the class re-taker lent me and leaned against the bedside to read.

His handwriting was very delicate yet elegant.
His writing had the power to heal people’s hearts, and plus, that content…

And oh my god, was there anything more soothing than linear algebra?

It didn’t take long for me to fall into a deep coma.

In the morning, I woke up due to the grating ping-pong noises.
Groggily, I got up and went to habitually touched the edge of the dining table, locating my breakfast.

Cheng Yichen was not present.
There was only Lu Feng, who made himself a strong cup of black coffee expressionlessly, sitting down with a newspaper in hand.

Breakfast today was nothing special, as it contained only fried eggs, bacon, toast, and warmed milk.
However, the eggs and bacon were burnt and the toast looked inedible.
Hesitant at first, I then decided to not judge the taste by its appearance and pierced the egg with the fork, shoving it in my mouth.

I tensed up and my vision almost blacked out.

Oh my god, son of a bitch! I had never eaten such bad fried eggs in my entire life.

What a skill he had!

I managed to swallow forcefully and tremblingly complained, “This… is too salty!”

Hearing my complaints, Lu Feng calmly chided, “Eat what’s in front of you and don’t be picky.”

“…I was just saying.”

As a freeloader, I certainly had no right to criticize other people’s labor.
I held my tongue and ate two more bites.
The prolonged aftertaste brought tears to my eyes, and I couldn’t help muttering, “Why would Uncle Chen add so much salt?”

Lu Feng blankly said, “I made it,”

“…???!!!”

“Xiao Chen is still sleeping.”

“…”

“He has a cold so let me sleep in.”

“…..oh.”

“You eat your food, and don’t disturb him.”

Lu Feng then left.

I was amazed as I stared at the unrecognizable fried eggs in front of me.
I couldn’t help myself and took out my phone to take several pictures at different angles.

This was Lu Feng’s self-made breakfast! Whether it was unpalatable or raw, it was going down in history.

Although Lu Feng warned me to not disturb him, I silently cracked open the door to Cheng Yichen’s bedroom to peak inside.
As expected, Cheng Yichen did not wake up yet and was sleeping with only half his face exposed, tightly covered by his quilt.

Lu Feng must had helped him carefully tuck him back into the quilt.

This went without saying, I did not like Lu Feng.
Even if we had no personal qualms about each other, he was personally too cold, vicious, and unfriendly.

Regardless of it all, that man treated Cheng Yichen with utmost tenderness.

Must be nice.

I was so bitter.
=.=

This very same day, I muddled my way through two classes in the afternoon.
Big Brother didn’t end up coming so I was lonely and sad in the back row.
I felt that all my excitement of attending class was due to my Big Brother.

After class, I came out with my bag and wandered around school.
Suddenly, I spotted him in front of the opposite teaching building.

He was standing upright with a schoolbag slung on one shoulder, one hand in his pocket and the other using to browse through his phone.
His hair was slightly messy from the wind, but he still had attractive features.

Was he browsing his phone too intensely that he forgot to continue walking? Did something juicy caught his interest?

Excitedly, I approached him stealthily and then jumped in front of him, shouting, “Hi!”

He was startled.

Only now did I notice that he was actually talking to someone on the phone through his Bluetooth headphones.
His mobile phone screen also displayed a market curve as well.
Realizing that I was interrupting his business, I quickly raised my hands in surrender and took a step back, saying, “Carry on with your work first.”

He smiled and spoke to the person on the other end of the call, “That’s all.
You can figure it out and send me an e-mail.” He then ended the call.

He looked at me and I also looked back.
Honestly, I was very happy, but as soon as I opened my mouth, I ended up scolding him, “You skipped class and wasn’t online today either.
Your class points will be gone.”

He apologized, “I have other classes.”

I sympathized, “You have conflicting classes, right? It’s inevitable.
It’s okay.
If the teacher calls your name, I’ll answer for you.
I can even answer for the entire dormitory with different variety of voices!”

He smiled and said, “Yeah, thank you.”

I asked again, “Do you have any classes left?”

He shook his head, “No more.”

I immediately suggested, “Then if you’re not in a hurry to return, I’ll treat you to a cup of coffee.”

He hesitated before agreeing, “Okay, but I need to use my computer to finish up some work first, so I may not be able to chat with you.”

I was ecstatic.
“It doesn’t matter.
It’s just coffee so continue with your work.”

I led him to the nearest Starbucks next to campus.
I ordered a Mocha Frappuccino, and he ordered an Iced Americano.

“…”

Compared to his drink preference, mine seemed relatively uncool.

Then I said, “Wait, change mine to an Americano too.”

It was weird.
On one hand, I thought of myself as fashionable and rather unrestrained while he was old-fashioned and dull.
On the other hand, I could not help but wanted to have similar aesthetics as him.

By the time I sat down with my coffee, he had been working on his Surface Pro for a while now.
Whenever he was concentrating deeply, his thin lips would pursed up, his eyes would sparkle, and his eyebrows would wrinkle perplexingly.

I continued to observe him.
His eyes never left the screen and he looked very serious, productive, and focused.
I could imagine his brain was operating at high speeds.

I looked around and noticed there were a lot of people sitting in Starbucks with their computers.
I thought to myself, hmph, you mortals are all here pretending.
Only my Big Brother is really working!

It was strange to think that some people had the ability to simply sit across from you but still make you feel so happy by being there.

Contentedly, I picked up my coffee cup and took a big sip.

“…” What the hell, I almost couldn’t hold my drink in.
It tasted cold and bitter; it is hard to drink.

After a while, he turned off his device and apologetically said, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

I quickly replied, “No, no.”

After watching each other for a few seconds, speechless for a moment, I asked, “Why did you order an Americano? In what way is the Americano tasty? Isn’t Frappuccino tastier?”

I expected a typical response from him that described the drink as “classic, pure, and healthy,” but his response was, “Ah, because it’s the cheapest.”

“???”

He looked at me and said, “When someone treats, it is polite to order the most inexpensive one.”

“…”

This guy was really simple.

But why was it a little cute?

“Don’t be so formal.
I have money.” Not really.

He smiled.

I smacked my swollen face and pretended to be fat as I declared, “Really! You can order whatever you like next time!”

May my WeChat account balance Rest In Peace.