Decayed Vulgarian

Decayed Vulgarian chapter 56

Falling Short

The Marxist College, the teacher named Zheng… It perfectly matched Shen He’s previous description.

Combining this with Meng Yuan Cen’s earlier statement, “I’ll lie and say I already have a partner when I encounter someone I think might be difficult to deal with,” a certain speculation in Shen Xun’s mind was about to emerge.

Shen Xun pursed his lips. “I casually wanted to know his surname for ease of reference.”

He remained silent for a few seconds and then asked, “So, are you going to the Alumni meeting University with this Teacher Zheng?”

“No,” Meng Yuan Cen immediately clarified, “I’m going alone, not going with him.”

Shen Xun glanced at Meng Yuan Cen. “Didn’t your superior ask you to take good care of him?”

Meng Yuan Cen explained, “My superior mainly wants me to help answer his questions in the academic report. Because the relationship between law and sociology is quite close, the superior hopes our joint report will shine at the alumni meeting to give Huada some credit. But it wasn’t emphasized that we must go together.”

Shen Xun fell silent for a few seconds and then slowly nodded.

Meng Yuan Cen’s attitude was clear. Further questioning might lead to an unpleasant situation. Shen Xun stopped his thoughts, tidied up the table, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

After finishing and drying his hands, Shen Xun went to find the photo album again. Although he distinctly remembered seeing it when he moved, he now had no clue where it could be. While searching, he propped his forehead, brainstorming frantically.

Despite searching for half an hour, he couldn’t find it. Shen Xun felt a bit defeated and collapsed on the sofa. But thinking about Meng Yuan Cen wanting to see it, he lay there for less than half a minute and suddenly stood up, continuing to search aimlessly.

Where on earth did he casually place the album?

Finally, he found it inside the bookcase wall—thanks to him holding a phone flashlight, attempting to check the desk drawer.

His searching made a bit of noise, even startling Meng Yuan Cen in the adjacent room. Meng Yuan Cen peeked, knowing Shen Xun was looking for the album, finding amusement in it.

Meng Yuan Cen went to the bedroom to work on his outline. As typing wasn’t convenient, he used voice input, speaking fluently, correcting typos even faster than typing.

Just as he was about to mention the next section, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and smiled, “Did you find your album?”

“Found it.”

“I’ve only got the last two paragraphs left in my outline. I’ll come to see it once I’m done.”

“Oh.” Shen Xun sat on the bed in the bedroom, teasing casually, “You don’t seem that eager to see it.”

“Really? I’m curious,” Meng Yuan Cen winked back, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon, my love.”

Shen Xun was taken aback for a moment, silent, and shifted his gaze away. This person was constantly flirting, shameless.

He lowered his head and opened the album, filled with photos from his childhood. He was quite nostalgic, so the entire album was a vivid memory lane. However, his childhood didn’t seem worthy of reminiscing—there were no happy memories that could heal his current life.

Continuing to flip through silently, Shen Xun stumbled upon an old photo taken in their first house. It was him and Shen He, holding certificates as “excellent students” with red scarves around their necks. Probably taken at the end of a semester, their mother insisted on taking a picture after seeing both her sons had received such awards.

Neither he nor Shen He enjoyed taking photos, so their smiles looked forced in the picture.

Shen Xun’s gaze moved away from the central figures, upwards, and suddenly halted, his expression changing slightly. He discovered the background captured that broken door—broken by his father.

Though the old photo’s quality was blurry, the door was partially obstructed by his head, not very prominent. Regardless, without hesitation, Shen Xun took out that photo and placed it behind the others, then he exhaled slowly.

The damaged door was the shape of his nightmares, haunting his entire childhood.

His tense nerves had only relaxed for a short while when he suddenly remembered something. He hurriedly opened the album and after flipping through a few pages, he found two more photos showing the same door. As he pulled them out to place behind other photos, he caught a glimpse of Meng Yuan Cen standing up—

Suddenly, he felt a tightening in his heart. “Have you finished writing?”

“Not yet,” Meng Yuan Cen turned and smiled at Shen Xun, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Shen Xun softly nodded, “Okay.”

Watching the other’s figure disappear from sight, he lowered his eyelids and admitted to himself in a reckless moment—He wasn’t ready to open up about everything regarding his father to Meng Yuan Cen. But if Meng Yuan Cen were to ask, he would definitely tell him.

Shen Xun acknowledged his trust issues. His trust was slow to give and difficult to earn. His defenses were built like an ice castle, silently. Yet, paradoxically, he foolishly wished for someone to melt it into spring water with time.

Forcing himself to stop these chaotic thoughts, Shen Xun lowered his head and found another picture, intending to slot it behind others. Suddenly, Meng Yuan Cen’s phone rang, displaying a number. Not wanting to disrupt important matters, Shen Xun answered on Meng Yuan Cen’s behalf. Before he could speak, the person on the other end enthusiastically greeted him:

“Hello, Professor Meng, It’s Zheng Cong. I accidentally bumped into your water cup today. I’m terribly sorry. I’ve ordered some burn ointment online, and it should be delivered to your doorstep in about ten minutes. How’s your hand now?”

Shen Xun fell silent. How did Zheng Cong know where Meng Yuan Cen lived?

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

Shen Xun’s expression turned cold. “I’m not Meng Yuan Cen, and he’s not close to the phone right now.”

Zheng Cong: “Can you give the phone to him? I have something important to tell him—”

Just as Shen Xun was contemplating his response, Meng Yuan Cen finally returned.

Seeing Shen Xun holding his phone, Meng Yuan Cen asked, “Who is it?”

Shen Xun put down the phone and softly replied, “Zheng Cong.”

Meng Yuan Cen’s expression tightened. “Give me the phone.”

On the call, Zheng Cong earnestly repeated his earlier words.

Meng Yuan Cen didn’t know what to say. He genuinely didn’t want Zheng Cong to care about him because of the burn incident. Despite having a thousand words in his heart, he managed to utter only one sentence, “My hand is really fine.”

He said it with patience, emphasizing the word “really.”

Zheng Cong might have sensed the underlying meaning and finally dropped the matter about the burn. Changing the subject, he said, “Professor Meng, have you purchased your high-speed train tickets? I happen to have some coupons here. If you buy two, you’ll get a discount. How about I help you buy them?”

Meng Yuan Cen replied, “Thank you for your kindness. I’ve already bought the tickets.”

In reality, he had lied; he hadn’t purchased the tickets yet.

Zheng Cong sounded a bit disappointed, “You bought the tickets very early.”

Meng Yuan Cen gave a polite smile, his gaze shifted down, noticing Shen Xun quietly inserting one photo behind another.

“By the way, regarding the alumni meeting presentation, the leaders suggested we exchange ideas,” Zheng Cong found a new topic, “My topic is already set, focusing on juvenile crime. I know your research is in criminology, and I’d like to hear your thoughts. Here’s how I’ve arranged my content…”

Then, Zheng Cong started talking at length, non-stop.

Meng Yuan Cen listened while considering that if the leaders wanted them to exchange ideas, he might as well conclude this ‘exchange’ today, sparing future contact. He quietly listened to Zheng Cong finish his last word and responded, “I think it’s good.”

Zheng Cong seemed to gain tremendous approval, “Do you think there’s anything else to add?”

Meng Yuan Cen intended to say no, but it was evident that their ‘exchange’ hadn’t truly resulted in an exchange. So, after some thought, he said, “You might want to look into ‘Minimum Dropout Age and Juvenile Crime in the USA.’ The author is Md. Abdur Rahman Forhad. I think it might inspire your presentation this time.”

“I’ve noted it down. Anything else?”

“Can’t think of anything at the moment.”

Zheng Cong was very excited, “Thank you!”

“No need to thank me.”

“I’ll come to you if I have more questions in the future!”

Meng Yuan Cen thought, “Please, not that.”

Finally hanging up the phone, he sat beside Shen Xun, intending to look through the photo album together. However, he noticed Shen Xun was looking down, lost in thought.

Meng Yuan Cen reached out to touch Shen Xun’s hair, but Shen Xun moved away, only a few strands brushing against his fingertips. Meng Yuan Cen was taken aback, staring at his empty palm. “Hmm? What’s wrong?”

“… He’s the Zheng teacher you mentioned,” Shen Xun still kept his head down. “How does he have your phone number and your home address?”

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