Proactively Attracted chapter 32

The Three Big Illusions

The bus swayed gently as it moved forward. Qiu Ruifeng was still savoring the soft, milky sweetness he’d just tasted and felt like he hadn’t eaten enough. When he turned his head, he saw Lu Xingjia sleeping soundly with his head resting on Qin Mudong’s shoulder.

Lu Xingjia wasn’t a very still sleeper—he’d shift here and there, letting out soft murmurs from time to time. Qin Mudong simply grabbed his wrist and held it firmly against his chest to keep him still.

The autumn sunlight was still fierce, shining through the overlapping poplar trees lining the road, casting flickering shadows across the bus seats.

In that shifting light, Qin Mudong lowered his eyes slightly, and within his dark pupils, there was only one person’s reflection.

Tenderness.

That word instantly popped into Qiu Ruifeng’s mind, though he couldn’t associate it with Qin Mudong at all.

They sat close together, just a row apart, so Qiu Ruifeng had to interact with him sometimes. But he always felt that Qin Mudong was different from everyone else.

It wasn’t exactly that he was antisocial—if you talked to him, he’d respond; if you asked a question, he’d answer clearly and logically. But that was it. It felt like he viewed everyone else as invisible, like he himself was transparent—an ephemeral soul that could drift away from this world at any moment without a care.

But now, Qiu Ruifeng clearly saw a faint golden glow around Qin Mudong.

The once-transparent soul had been given form.

Qiu Ruifeng stared, completely unfiltered. Qin Mudong glanced at him lightly and pulled Lu Xingjia a little closer into his arms.

Still half-asleep, Lu Xingjia tried to open his eyes, his eyelids struggling to stay apart. “Mmm… are we there yet?”

“Not yet. Sleep a bit more.”

Qin Mudong’s voice was so gentle, it was barely more than a breath.

Lu Xingjia trusted him completely. He turned his head into Qin Mudong’s chest and promptly fell back into a deep sleep.

Qin Mudong smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes, then looked back at Qiu Ruifeng with an indifferent gaze.

Qiu Ruifeng was totally confused—he felt like that look carried a hint of provocation.

But then it hit him: Qin Mudong was showing off, flaunting his close relationship with Lu Xingjia.

Qiu Ruifeng almost choked on his own thoughts. He didn’t quite understand what there was to show off about, but his competitive streak instantly flared up.

So what if they’re close? Everyone has someone they’re close with.

He turned to Ji Angran and asked, “You sleepy?”

Ji Angran was listening to music. MP3 players were all the rage at the time, and his small device was loaded with songs of all kinds.

He didn’t quite catch what Qiu Ruifeng said, so he lifted his fair, slender arm to remove his earbuds, casually brushing back his slightly long bangs.

The side of the bus they were sitting on was in shadow, and the lighting inside wasn’t great—dim and shifting.

Ji Angran was slender, pale, and moved in an unbothered way that reminded Qiu Ruifeng of moody, obscure films he’d seen in dim classrooms. His heartbeat started racing uncontrollably.

“What did you say?” Ji Angran asked.

“Nothing!” Qiu Ruifeng blurted out, then suddenly remembered what he wanted to say.

Scratching his head, his usual carefree grin took on an awkward edge. “Just wanted to ask… are you sleepy?”

Ji Angran blinked and smiled politely. “Thanks, but I’m not.”

He was so well-behaved. His cheeks had two little dimples that made Qiu Ruifeng’s mouth go dry every time he smiled.

Qiu Ruifeng’s mind went blank, and his mouth followed suit: “R-Really not sleepy?”

Ji Angran nodded with wide eyes. “Really.”

“But I think you are sleepy!”

Ji Angran: “…?”

As soon as he said it, Qiu Ruifeng smacked his forehead in regret.

He quickly fumbled for an explanation: “I didn’t mean it like that, I just thought… um…”

No matter how good he usually was at talking, he completely blanked this time.

“…Thought riding the bus is kinda tiring!”

Finally, the train of thought got back on track, and with an excuse in place, the rest flowed more easily.

Qiu Ruifeng rambled seriously, “Think about it—we’ve got the opening ceremony and classes starting right after we arrive. Not a minute to rest. You should sleep now and recharge so you’ll be in top shape to crush those practice problems!”

Ji Angran considered it for a moment and actually found it pretty convincing.

“You’re right.” He nodded earnestly, turned off his MP3, and actually closed his eyes to try and sleep.

Qiu Ruifeng suddenly felt guilty, peeked over at him again, and couldn’t help but blush as he thought:

Damn, Ji Angran is ridiculously good-looking. Those lashes! That skin!

Qiu Ruifeng’s mom had seen Lu Xingjia once and never stopped praising how obedient and well-behaved he was.

But now, in Qiu Ruifeng’s mind, all he could think was: Lu Xingjia doesn’t hold a candle to Ji Angran. Ji Angran is the real sweet and easy-to-please one.

The bus continued its bumpy ride until they finally arrived at their destination, a group of students slumped over asleep in all sorts of poses.

Zhang Chuchu went around waking them up one by one, lining them up to get off the bus and prepare for the opening ceremony of their boot camp.

Lu Xingjia still hadn’t gotten enough sleep. The nap had made him even drowsier, and he stumbled off the bus with a head full of fog.

There just had to be a long and boring opening ceremony to endure. All the students stood on the field, listening to the teachers’ passionate and rousing speeches. Lu Xingjia tried his best to stay awake, but his eyelids still couldn’t stop battling each other.

Suddenly, his dim vision swayed—Qin Mudong, who had originally been standing behind him, stepped to the side and moved in front of him.

“Sleep,” the voice came from ahead, drifting on the autumn breeze, light and airy, yet it landed heavily in Lu Xingjia’s ears.

On the packed sports field, the teacher’s voice echoed through the microphone, reverberating in every corner.

In one such corner, a boy held onto another boy’s clothes and hid behind him, sleeping soundly.

Qiu Ruifeng stood nearby, looking at Lu Xingjia—who could fall asleep while standing—and then at Ji Angran on the other side, who was earnestly listening and even pulled out a notebook to take notes. After a moment, he let out a long sigh.

It wasn’t that he’d lost to Qin Mudong—it’s just that Lu Xingjia was too good at sleeping!

……

The long opening ceremony finally ended. As the noise around him grew, Lu Xingjia stretched lazily, finally fully rested.

Opening his eyes, he saw Qiu Ruifeng’s face full of unspoken emotions, as if the words “Are you a pig?” were written across it.

“What’s wrong?” Lu Xingjia asked in confusion.

Qiu Ruifeng opened his mouth but finally just said, “…Nothing.”

Lu Xingjia blinked, full of question marks, and was about to say more when Qin Mudong, one hand in his pocket, said casually, “Time for lunch.”

“So soon?” Lu Xingjia blinked in surprise, his just-awakened eyes still misty. Then, suddenly recalling something, he looked at Qin Mudong with excitement and said, “Then let’s go together!”

His whole demeanor was like a wagging tail.

Even at school, they rarely ate together. Qin Mudong always left early—usually disappearing before Lu Xingjia even had a chance to say anything. Now, finally, there was a chance, and Lu Xingjia was brimming with anticipation.

“Okay.” This time, Qin Mudong agreed readily, the corners of his lips slightly curving up. Then he casually glanced in Qiu Ruifeng’s direction.

Qiu Ruifeng suddenly felt a bit uneasy. Why did it seem like Qin Mudong held such strong hostility toward him?

…It had to be his imagination. Qiu Ruifeng shook his head and pushed away the strange thought.

They had no grudges, and they were both Lu Xingjia’s friends—there was no reason for Qin Mudong to be hostile toward him.

…..

After lunch, an intense schedule of classes followed immediately.

With the tight timeframe and heavy workload, the teachers lectured at machine-gun speed, and the difficulty of the problems had leapt several levels. Even someone used to Zhang Chuchu’s usual pace like Lu Xingjia struggled to keep up.

But the madness of the boot camp didn’t stop there—every afternoon, after classes, the three evening study sessions were prime time for exams.

A mock test a day had become an unshakable “entertainment” activity of the camp.

After three days of this hellish schedule, Lu Xingjia had developed dark circles under his eyes, and he was already walking unsteadily.

According to the timetable, there was an hour of lunch break after meals, but at this point, barely anyone in the class actually took naps.

Everyone dashed to the cafeteria for a quick meal, and before the seat even had time to cool down, they were back at their desks, diving headfirst into a sea of exercises.

The seating had been assigned by the teachers, so Lu Xingjia and Qin Mudong weren’t seated together.

Lu Xingjia was a bit disappointed, but there was nothing he could do. After class, rubbing his growling stomach, he followed the crowd, preparing to head to the cafeteria.

Just as he stood up, a “wall” appeared before him—a tall boy blocked his path.

It was Qin Mudong.

Lu Xingjia’s eyes lit up instantly. “Wanna eat together?”

“Not very hungry yet,” Qin Mudong replied.

Lu Xingjia pouted, letting out an “oh,” and his eyelids drooped slightly.

They hadn’t talked much for days… didn’t Qin Mudong miss him at all?

If he didn’t want to eat together, fine. He’d go by himself.

Just as Lu Xingjia took a step forward, Qin Mudong suddenly said, “Can we go together later?”

Qin Mudong added calmly, “There are too many people right now. I want to wait until it’s quieter.”

Of course they could!

As long as they were together, anytime was fine.

Lu Xingjia’s mood flipped from cloudy to sunny, and he smiled with bright eyes. “Okay!”

The classroom soon emptied out. Qin Mudong went back to his seat, grabbed a practice book, and came to sit beside Lu Xingjia.

Since they weren’t in the same dorm or deskmates anymore, this was the closest they had been in three days.

There’s a saying: “One day apart feels like three autumns.” By Lu Xingjia’s count, it felt like ten years since they’d been this close.

No wonder he missed him so much.

Just sitting next to Qin Mudong made him feel like there was a little bunny thumping wildly in his chest.

He forced himself to calm down and poked Qin Mudong’s arm with his pen, pushing the workbook toward him to ask about some problems he didn’t understand. Qin Mudong naturally took the pen, just like when they used to sit together.

The autumn wind blew coolly, brushing past the two boys in the classroom. Qin Mudong’s long, defined fingers held the pen, leaving confident strokes of handwriting on Lu Xingjia’s notebook.

His voice was clear, his logic sharp, and he smoothly finished explaining the final point. As usual, his pen tip landed with a neat and forceful dot on the paper.

He looked up, intending to ask Lu Xingjia whether he understood — and only then did he realize how close the two of them were, their heads nearly touching.

Sensing something, Lu Xingjia also looked up, and their eyes met directly.

Time seemed to slow down. An intimate atmosphere quietly spread between them, like spring catkins floating softly through the air—silent, yet overwhelming.

Lu Xingjia felt as if a springtime hot spring was bubbling in his heart, little bubbles rising and bursting into warmth.

Could it be… that Qin Mudong liked him, even just a little?

They stared at each other in silence for several more seconds. Eventually, Lu Xingjia was the first to avert his gaze, muttering softly, “Why are you staring at me…”

“I wasn’t,” Qin Mudong replied calmly, his eyes lowered.

Lu Xingjia responded with a quiet “Oh,” the light in his eyes dimming.

This was probably one of life’s three great illusions:

The illusion that someone called my name.

The illusion that he was looking at me.

The illusion… that he liked me.

Because I like him so much.

Lu Xingjia lowered his eyes in disappointment, failing to notice the flicker of panic in Qin Mudong’s eyes.

The mood became a little awkward, and Lu Xingjia wanted to say something to break the silence — when hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.

The first wave of students who’d gone to eat lunch had returned, and the classroom quickly grew noisy again.

Lu Xingjia latched onto the change of atmosphere and asked awkwardly, “Do… you want to go eat now?”

Qin Mudong gave a soft “mm,” and the two packed up and left the classroom together.

Autumn cicadas still sang defiantly in the trees, chirping noisily.

They walked side by side, but neither dared to look at the other.

Author’s Note:

Oops, lost track of time while writing—no midnight snack today, just a serving of dog food for everyone! 🐶