They replied very quickly.
[Insomnia, thinking too much.]
Song Lang scoffed and retorted rapidly, "Tch, not only do you overthink things, but you also have very high hopes."
【Well, if you insist on describing yourself as "beautiful," that's fine too.】
"Holy crap, can you stop being so lewd? Can't we have a normal conversation for a bit?"
Okay, answer my question first. I want to know the answer.
"What?"
When you see the text message "I want to kiss you," who comes to mind?
"What kind of question is this? Is it important?"
Yes, it's very important.
Song Lang didn't understand what was important, and he didn't intend to answer this pointless question. "Anyway, it's not you."
Do you know who I am?
"Heh, you underestimate my intelligence. I only know a few gay men. Just use the process of elimination, and you'll know. Do I have to spell it out for you?"
There was no reply from the other end for a long time. Song Lang thought to himself that this guy was really a coward. He decided to scare him again so that he would stop being so provocative.
"What? Scared? Your surname is Song, three characters, do you want me to spell it out, you trash? If you keep acting like a slut, I'll send your text messages to your whole class."
Shen Zhifei, who was next door, let out a long sigh in the darkness.
[Wrong, I am not the Song Moumou you are thinking of.]
"??? Are you trying to fool me??"
No pretense.
Shen Zhifei turned on the room light and took a picture of his side profile with the front camera of his phone, including his ears and strands of hair. Although it was impossible to identify him, a comparison would confirm that he was not Song Xianji.
Song Xianji's hair wasn't as long as his.
Song Lang stared at the fragmented selfie for a long time, studying it. His skin was quite fair, two shades lighter than Song Xianji's.
Who else could it be but Song Xianji?
Song Lang's brain started to malfunction again when a new text message popped up.
Who I am isn't important; what's important is your answer to my question.
The person you're thinking about must be someone you like; I want to be that person.
Song Lang flipped back to that outrageous text message, as if he were looking through a suggestive erotic magazine. He couldn't help but imagine the scene, his heart pounding uncontrollably because of the increasingly clear face in his mind.
"Hold."
He sighed softly, tossed his phone aside, and raised his arm to shield his eyes.
This is insane, absolutely insane.
The phone, buried in the blankets, made a muffled ringing sound and then fell silent. Song Lang didn't look at it. He rolled over and lay face down on the bed, irritably pressing the pillow under his head. With strong willpower, he endured the near-suffocating situation for two minutes before finally poking his head out to breathe fresh air.
But the fire in his lower body remained vibrant and burning hot.
Left with no other option, Song Lang got up and went to the bathroom.
Their house has three bedrooms and two bathrooms. He and Shen Zhifei usually share a bathroom, which is filled with their personal items. He hadn't thought about it before, but now that he had those kinds of thoughts, seeing those matching towels, toothbrushes, and toothpastes made him feel uneasy.
He leaned against the cold wall, the bathroom mirror opposite him reflecting his dazed state and desire without any distortion.
Song Lang tilted his head slightly, put his hand inside his pants, and stared at himself in the mirror.
"You tilted your chin slightly, so sexy, like you were asking for a kiss."
The words suddenly had a tangible sound, echoing in his mind.
"I will hug you from behind and press you against the wall for a passionate kiss."
He closed his eyes, and the hard, cold wall behind him suddenly became warm. He recalled and fantasized, again and again, until finally the person who lingered in his mind for so long, along with his palms, became dirty.
After leaning against the tiles in silence for a long time, Song Lang took a shower and went back to bed.
There was a "Goodnight" message on his phone, but he didn't reply.
The next morning, Song Lang went out.
Without saying hello to Shen Zhifei or going to Meng Fanxing's house, he invited Zhou Sen, Jing Muye, and Yu Mingtao to play 2v2 basketball together.
He didn't return until late at night, and after a brief chat with Shen Zhifei, he went back to his room.
The same thing happened on the third day, and he didn't breathe a sigh of relief until school started.
But before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, he was already in his throat again.
On the first day of school, he stared at a stack of colorful booklets on his desk and asked, "What are these?"
Hao Wei pulled up a chair from the table in front of her and sat down facing Song Lang, gesturing with her lips and saying, "Why don't you just take a look?"
Song Lang picked up a book, his handsome brows furrowing suddenly.