Secret Crush

I found the secret crush diary of the gloomy top student.

[Today was the physics final. Rice Ball Classmate sat right in front of me. Her neck is so long and white; I really want to grab it and kiss her.]

[I dreamed about her dancing last night. Can I just lock her up and make her dance for me alone?]

[Rice Ball Classmate came to ask me a question today. Her hair kept brushing against my arm. It was so itchy I almost lost control.]

[That guy from the next class keeps coming to see her, and she actually smiles at him. I really want to dispose of his body and then lock her away.]

[I accidentally picked up Rice Ball Classmate and brought her home. I’m holding back so much I’m going crazy.]

[Saw Rice Ball Classmate eating ice cream. I’m using my mind to soul-travel into that ice cream.]

Reading this diary made my face flush and my heart race. I quickly put it back where I found it.

That top student usually looks so cold and aloof, like he has no desires. Who would have thought he was such a pervert behind closed doors?

This Rice Ball Classmate is way too pitiful.

Even after I returned to my seat, my heart was still pounding with lingering fear.

Just then, the top student, Shi Jianjin, walked over. “Meng, I bought an extra rice ball. Here, it’s for you.”

Huh?

Seeing my confused expression, Shi Jianjin casually flicked my forehead. “Don’t you always eat rice balls? Rice Ball Classmate.”

Rice Ball Classmate?

Me: ???

I am the most pathetic pervert alive.

After a year of crushing on the class heartthrob,

I finally couldn’t suppress my urge to spy on him anymore.

So I installed a cheap camera in his home.

Less than three hours later, the camera ran out of battery and shut off.

I tried to send him a creepy message:

-I like you I like you I like you I like you

Before it could even send, my phone notified me that my service had been suspended for unpaid bills.

Because I was broke,

I was forced to become an upstanding person.

Until one day, when I opened my door,

Xie Yu was on my bed, half-dressed and tied up with rope.

When he saw me come in, he even deliberately tightened the ropes, looking pitiful as he said,

“You don’t like me anymore, Xiaocui?”

I booked an appointment with a specialist for pain during sex, only to discover that the intern sitting behind the kindly old doctor was my longtime crush.

The professor turned around to quiz him.

“He, what usually causes pain during intercourse?”

He Shiyu looked past his silver-haired mentor and stared straight at me.

After a long silence, he answered in a voice cold enough to splinter ice, each word striking like a blow.

“Rough movements.”

“A lack of restraint.”

“Excessive frequency.”

“Mechanical injury.”

The professor nodded in satisfaction and continued, “And what information should we ask this patient for now?”

He Shiyu thought for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice slipped out of control, trembling with accusation.

“Meng Yin, these past two months… who exactly have you been with?”

I had no idea my boss was a famous fanfic author, one with excellent prose, thrilling plots, and a perfectly balanced diet of content.

And I was one of his top-paying readers.

His new story was a complete departure from his usual style: an utterly squeaky-clean original novel.

I happily topped up my account to buy the chapters, but the more I read, the more I realized the dense, romance-impaired heroine was a lot like me.

The only difference was that the male lead was a shy, innocent, introverted herbivore-type boss whose little inner commentary was ridiculously cute.

He was nothing like my real-life boss, who barely spoke, had a severe case of germophobia, and was an absolute menace.

Later…

The author posted in the comments: “≧◇≦ Thank you all for your support. I-I-I’ve decided to be brave and confess!!! >_<”

Magnanimously, I sent the author a huge gift. “Go for it! Be brave, author! Fear no hardship!”

The very next second, my cold-faced, frowning boss walked out of his office and stopped in front of me, his face bright red.

Me: “?”

After starting high school, I was taken in by the Xu Family.

The Xu family had a golden boy, Xu Ge, whom I secretly admired for three whole years.

But in Xu Ge’s heart, there was a perfect white moonlight.

The day his white moonlight went abroad, he sat red-eyed in a dim bar corridor for an entire night.

That night, the rain was pouring.

I left my only umbrella at the corner, then quietly slipped away.

Many years later, Xu Ge and I crossed paths again at a gathering.

I was there to pick up a friend who was dead drunk.

Through the smoky haze, a man in a gray hoodie nonchalantly pushed open the door, still surrounded by a flock of girls.

I watched for a moment, pretended not to recognize him, lowered my gaze, and left. Outside, the rain was pouring, and I stood at the door fretting.

Just then, an umbrella was handed to me from behind.

The hand holding it had a pale, strong wrist.

The man in the hoodie spoke softly: “Ruan He. “This umbrella of yours-you left it with me all those years ago.”

This was the seventeenth time I’d run into my roommate Cheng Yuming’s girlfriend on my way downstairs.

As was her habit, she pulled a plump orange from her bag and offered it to me, her eyes curving into a gentle, sweet smile.

I didn’t take it. I simply called her name. “Jiang Tingyu.”

“Yes?”

“Try a different fruit,” I said, my voice flat. “Oranges cause too much internal heat.”

By day, my straight roommate and I are sworn enemies.

By night, I secretly write slash fanfiction about the two of us.

[He slowly closed his eyes, his soft lips pressing against mine…]

That very night, in my dreams, we reenacted the exact scene from my story.

Later, I discovered that whatever I wrote, I would dream about that night.

I became addicted to it, losing myself in the fantasies until there was no turning back.

Still, I always made sure to maintain a sense of propriety, never daring to go too far or truly offend him.

Until one day, I finally plucked up the courage to reach out and touch my roommate in the dream.

The next morning, the look in his eyes when he turned to me was dark and unreadable.

“What’s the point of just dreaming?” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward him.

It turned out that I wasn’t the only one; he had been having those dreams too.