"It really was the chest binder’s fault!"
An Han stormed into the dorm, hurled the chest binder to the floor, and stomped on it twice—rage practically blazing from his eyes.
Without the binder, visiting the sushi stall owner caused zero issues; the affection meter wouldn’t budge for hours. But the moment he wore it? The meter shot up like a rocket, making his scalp prickle.
His chest was flat as any guy’s with it on! How could it possibly charm anyone?
Worse—it didn’t work on women at all! He’d even tested it on the convenience store auntie. Zero effect.
"Damn this trash system! Screw you again?!"
"I really can’t let my guard down!"
This system never wanted him to have an easy time.
If he’d gotten this item before the upgrade—before affection alerts existed—he’d have innocently joked with his roommates… only for all four affection levels to max out. The dorm would’ve become hell.
A reverse harem system?! Damn it!
He kicked the wardrobe again, took a deep breath to calm down, then slumped at his desk, hands cradling his head.
Thank goodness he reacted fast. Otherwise, that forty-something sushi stall owner would’ve started liking him.
An Han sat silently, head bowed, for a long while.
Top priority now: no more system items. No stat-boosting quests.
One more point in physique stats? His chest size would be impossible to hide.
"Time to go full isolation mode!" He lifted his head, voice firm. "If I see no one, no quests trigger! Not until National Day!"
"Even if one does," he added fiercely, "I stay true to myself. Rewards won’t tempt me."
He stood, sheepishly retrieved the binder.
Side effects were harsh… but who knew when it’d be useful?
Like during holiday break—his chest might swell beyond what online binders could hide. Only the system’s version would work. At least it didn’t affect women. He couldn’t possibly charm his own mom, right?
Though self-cleaning, An Han—germaphobe that he was—washed it on the balcony, shook off the water, and stuffed it into the wardrobe.
He double-locked both doors, sat at his computer, resolved: no leaving the dorm for the rest of National Day.
He’d thought the same on Day One… until the Long Xing incident triggered the system upgrade. Curious about new rewards? Sure. But protecting his male identity mattered more—even a temporary delay helped.
After hours at the screen, he stretched with a groan, twisting his sore waist.
Daydreaming about gaming in class was one thing; actually playing for hours? Exhausting.
"My energy’s not what it used to be."
"Am I getting old?"
He muttered, sipped water, reached for his phone to order takeout—*knock knock*.
Hesitating, he cracked the door open, peering out with only his eyes visible at Su Peng.
"Are you okay?" Su Peng stood calm and clear-eyed—nothing like the wolf-like intensity from before. Only a hint of concern softened his tone.
Relief washed over An Han. Normal Su Peng was friendly… yet that concern unnerved him. Affection level was nearly ninety. Could he actually… like him?
"Mm." An Han opened the door.
He wanted to avoid all men now, but his afternoon outburst *had* been rude. He knew why; Su Peng had been clueless when kicked out.
"Um… sorry about this afternoon."
He’d rehearsed excuses all day—but face-to-face, words stuck. Seeing An Han’s flushed, stammering face, Su Peng shook his head with a sigh. "Alright, alright."
"Lately, you’ve got more secrets."
"Is that so?" An Han laughed awkwardly. "You just didn’t know me before."
"Maybe." Su Peng smiled. "Run at the track?"
"Running?"
An Han realized—he hadn’t stepped outside all holiday. His body didn’t look frail anymore; interest in exercise had faded. Guilt toward Su Peng + overdue movement won. He broke his vow. "Fine. A couple laps might help me sleep."
Jogging felt like torture to casual runners—boring, tiring. But for An Han, it was relaxation.
"Wait—I’ll change."
He returned in under two minutes: loose, quick-dry athletic pants ending just above the knee. Snow-white calves stretched straight down; ERKE sneakers on his feet.
"Grab dinner at the canteen after."
"I ate."
"I’ll go alone."
An Han walked ahead, tucking wireless earbuds in.
Behind him, Su Peng’s gaze lingered on those tender calves swaying gently with each step… then drifted up to the fair thigh peeking from the hem.
*Damn. Top-tier legs.*
Mental thumbs-up. Even heavily photoshopped online pics couldn’t compare. Slender yet shapely, smooth curves—softly plump when relaxed, subtly toned when tensed. If wrapped around his waist…
"Su Peng—did the advisor ask you to join the sports meet?" An Han turned, cutting the thought short.
Su Peng jolted, clearing his head. "Same as before—3000 meters."
"Three thousand? Brutal."
"That’s why I need you to train with me."
"Your past results?"
"You didn’t watch?"
An Han froze. Couldn’t admit he’d been gaming in-dorm. He tilted his head slightly, feigning thought. "Can’t recall… bad memory."
Truthfully, that unconscious cute gesture—effeminate, yet oddly soothing—felt like chatting with a pure-hearted neighbor girl.
Su Peng knew but said nothing. "Top five usually. Not like the athletes."
"Yeah… no comparison."
"What about you? Skipping again?"
"Ren Chi *insisted* this year," An Han grumbled. "Do I look like a medal contender?"
Su Peng chuckled. "Participation matters. Rankings don’t."
"What a hassle…"
