Fortunately, it was Wang Sheng. Had it been Chen Junjie or Wu Dongming—someone who spotted an object wedged in the desk gap—they wouldn’t have asked whose it was. They’d have just yanked it out.
An Han refused to pull the bag free. He awkwardly reached into the narrow corner gap, groping blindly.
“Hey! Nice butt~” Chen Junjie’s smug voice came from behind.
An Han shot a glance back, fished out a dead roach from the crack, and flicked it toward him.
Chen yelped, leaping backward. He’d been about to reach out teasingly, but now scrambled away. “Damn! How gross are you?!”
“Not as gross as you!” An Han shot back, ducked under the desk again, and within seconds retrieved Wang Sheng’s charging cable.
He crawled out, tossed the cable onto the desk with forced nonchalance, and grumbled, “How’d your cable end up *there*?”
“The desk gap’s just wide,” Wang Sheng replied absently, thinking An Han seemed unusually helpful today.
He sat back at his computer, plugged in his phone, and resumed gaming.
Seeing no suspicion in Wang Sheng, An Han turned toward the balcony. Passing Chen Junjie, he casually wiped the roach-touched hand on Chen’s shoulder.
“Damn it!” Chen lunged playfully; An Han bolted to the balcony.
Phew. Another close call.
Next time the roommates were all out, those feminine clothes needed a new hiding spot.
After washing his hands, An Han discreetly scanned the dorm corners. The wardrobe was out—Wang Sheng stuffed it with clutter and rummaged constantly. One wrong move and… disaster.
This lousy school even forced two guys to share a wardrobe, with rusty bunk beds. Everyone praised the dorms during admissions—turns out that was for the *new* campus. Not his.
He still had to find Wu Dongming a girlfriend. Or else… cross-dress himself.
Shoving worries aside, he opened the school Tieba, class group, and department chat. Just like Chen Junjie once did to him, he posted:
“This is Wu Dongming. 160cm tall, 50kg, from a well-off family. Seeking a girlfriend: pretty, sweet-voiced, well-endowed. DM if interested.”
Attached: a candid shot of Wu Dongming messily devouring a grilled chicken leg. Perfect.
An Han muttered inwardly—*Serves you right for tricking me into cross-dressing!*—yet a few mystery DMs popped up. He nearly snorted laughing.
“Delivery for Mr. Yanzu!” The door swung open. As the rider set down the bag, An Han jumped up. “Yanzu’s here!”
“Lin Junjie’s delivery not here yet?” Chen Junjie turned, stomach growling. “I’m starving.”
“You? Lin Junjie? More like Guo Donglin,” An Han quipped, snatching the bag and waving it tauntingly. “This Yanzu eats first~”
They’d never gotten along, but these days it was just playful bickering.
Not long after lunch, the door opened again.
Wu Dongming stormed in. “An Han! You posted my photos everywhere and spread rumors?!”
*How’d he find out so fast? Barely an hour!*
An Han froze, then turned with wide, glistening eyes and a wounded pout. “I was just helping you find a girlfriend!”
Wu Dongming’s chest tightened—*Did I wrong him?* That “I tried to be nice and you yell at me” look was dangerously convincing.
But he’d long built immunity. Shaking it off, he smacked An Han’s head. “Then why say I’m 160cm?!”
“What, lie and say 170?” An Han dropped the act instantly, voice sharp. “Online’s the fastest way! You’re short and scruffy—really think some girl secretly likes you?!”
“Why post *that* messy photo?! I have handsome ones!” Wu Dongming shoved him off the chair. “Move! Delete everything!”
“Giving up on a girlfriend?” An Han smirked.
“This plan’s garbage!”
*Obviously.* Finding Wu Dongming a girlfriend in a day? Absurd. Why did the system call this “easiest”?
An Han sighed. At this rate, he’d cross-dress *and* get random attribute points.
He flopped onto the nearby bed, legs crossed. “What if… you *rent* a girlfriend?”
“Huh?”
“Rent one! Like those holiday news stories—bring someone home to appease family.” An Han slapped his thigh, grinning. “Charge 300–500 a day. Someone’ll bite.”
“Well…”
“Won’t it blow up?” Wu Dongming hesitated.
*As if my cross-dressing plan’s any safer.*
Catching An Han’s eye-roll, Wu Dongming added with a pout, “Different. You’re free.”
*So you just want to freeload.*
“I gave the idea. Your problem now.” An Han sprawled on the bed, yawning dramatically.
Wang Sheng frowned. “Go to your own bed! Sweaty, unwashed feet on my quilt? Gross!”
“Climbing up’s a hassle.”
Wang Sheng used to be a cleanliness fanatic—until roommates’ sunflower-seed chaos wore him down. Now he only guarded his own desk and bed.
An Han deliberately rolled on the quilt. Wang Sheng grabbed his wrist, tugging.
“Don’t be stingy~ We’ve *slept* together before~” An Han giggled, wriggling. “You ‘took’ me—now won’t even share your bed?”
“Xiao Han,” Long Xing turned, puzzled. “Weren’t you just too drunk to climb up that time? Why make Wang Sheng sound like a scumbag?”
“Total scumbag! When was I sweaty?” An Han laughed, thrusting his hand at Wang Sheng. “Smell it—any sweat?”
Wang Sheng sighed, sniffed instinctively—and froze.
“You… actually smell milky?”
An Han stiffened, yanking his hand back. “Nonsense! I just said no sweat!”
He bolted to the balcony, grabbing a towel to scrub away that “milky scent.”
Inside, Wang Sheng stared at his quilt and pillow. A faint, lingering trace of An Han’s scent clung to the fabric.
