Why does it feel like every time I try to sneak off and do something shady, this advisor *always* shows up at the most mortifying spot at the perfect moment?
Is this guy seriously messed up?!
An Han kept his head bowed low, hands clasped tightly behind his back around the package. Outwardly meek and gentle, inwardly he was already gritting his teeth in silent fury.
Had he been seen?
Even if the text wasn’t visible, that bra-like image on the wrapper was probably unmistakable.
He should’ve wrapped it in another plastic bag.
He wouldn’t have cared if the courier station owner—a total stranger—knew he was shipping a chest binder; that guy had seen it all. But being spotted by someone he *knew*? Unthinkable.
Social death usually happens among friends and family.
But caught by his advisor? Absolutely unacceptable.
Too terrifying!
He wanted to bolt—but that only worked on classmates, not advisors. Risking future retaliation, he swallowed his pride and asked meekly, “What do you need?”
Ren Chi tilted his head curiously, trying to peek behind him. An Han shifted slightly, blocking the view.
Unfazed, Ren Chi smiled warmly. “Just need a hand from you and Su Peng. If you’re busy, no worries.”
This advisor’s ever-present knowing smile made it feel like he saw *everything*.
An Han couldn’t be sure if he’d been spotted, but gritted his teeth and replied, “Su Peng might be heading out soon. What kind of help?”
“Personal. Forget it if you’re not up for it.”
“I’m in!” An Han nodded instantly.
“I’m moving,” Ren Chi said, scratching his neck with an awkward chuckle. “Wanted to ask colleagues, but it’s National Day—they’re all gone. Honestly… you’re kinda the only one left on campus.”
An Han blinked. “Teacher, are you *that* unpopular? Not one friend to help?”
“…”
“No, I mean—” Realizing his wording, he fumbled, then relented. “But… couldn’t you hire movers? Or rent a van?”
“My new place is right behind campus—the Happy Community. Less than a few hundred meters. Hiring help for *that*?”
“Fine, spending cash really is worse than exploiting student labor,” An Han muttered under his breath.
“What?”
He nodded frantically. “I’ll help right after I mail this!”
Between the cross-dressing dirt Ren Chi already had *and* this chest binder package? An Han would leap at the chance to help.
Puffing his chest like a brother ready to take a blade for his comrade, he patted Ren Chi’s shoulder. “We’re practically brothers! Anything you need—I’ve got your back!”
Ren Chi sighed helplessly. “I’m new here, barely know anyone… How about I treat you?”
“No need.”
An Han’s only thought: wrap this up fast, retreat to his dorm, and lie low before any weird quest triggers.
He glanced nervously at the hidden binder, hesitated. “Teacher… I’ll pop back to my dorm. Two minutes.”
“Sure. You’re a lifesaver.”
Back in his room, he slipped the package into a plastic bag. *Finally*, he breathed easier. Opening the door—Ren Chi still waited patiently outside.
“I’ll drop this at the courier station first.”
An Han hurried ahead; Ren Chi followed close. His eyes flicked toward the bag now and then—but respectfully asked nothing.
Whether he’d seen it or not, that discretion eased An Han’s nerves.
“Hey, Teacher,” An Han slowed slightly, curiosity peeking through. “How old are you? You look early twenties.”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Oh~ Not much older than me.”
Ren Chi smiled. “I play League of Legends and Honor of Kings too. Practically peers.”
An Han didn’t play either—but the comment melted the usual teacher-student stiffness.
Campus had three courier stations, all on the food street. Usually packed, now nearly empty except staff during National Day break.
A “Help Wanted” poster clung to the station door. An Han paused briefly—just his habit—then stepped inside.
Shipping a chest binder as a guy? Awkward. But strangers = safety. He kept a straight face and mailed it.
“All set.” He rejoined Ren Chi outside.
“Looking for part-time work?” Ren Chi noted his pause.
“Nah, just curious.”
“Don’t work during term—only breaks. Studying’s your job now.”
“Mm.” An Han nodded obediently.
(Truth was, he just read *everything*: flyers, snack bags, soda cans. Couldn’t help it.)
Following Ren Chi to the faculty dorm, An Han peeked inside after the door opened.
Ancient building. Layout nearly identical to student dorms. Room size? Same.
“Faculty housing isn’t much better.”
“But it’s a single.”
Ren Chi unlocked the door. An Han leaned in.
Single bed. Cluttered odds and ends everywhere. For someone so tidy-looking… messier than some students’. *Perfect ammo for future dorm inspections.*
“Come in.”
Still hovering at the threshold, An Han asked, “This isn’t bad. Why move out?”
“More space. More comfort. Duh.”
“Lucky. Students can’t rent off-campus unless it’s senior-year internship.”
Stepping inside, his eyes locked on the desk. “A *Naruto* figurine?”
“Mm.”
“So you’re an otaku too, Teacher~”
“I’m *not*,” Ren Chi insisted earnestly. “I just love *Naruto*. Watched it since childhood. Buying a figurine doesn’t make me an otaku.”
“But… the Fourth Hokage’s cloak is hanging right there.”
“Is it wrong to keep mementos from a childhood favorite?”
As Ren Chi opened the closet to pack, An Han relentlessly chimed in: “And that’s Zangetsu from *Bleach*, right? Still denying it?”
Ren Chi protested, “Liking one or two anime doesn’t make you an otaku! Don’t throw around terms you just learned!”
“And *this*?”
An Han pointed to a set of women’s clothing tucked in the corner.
…So we’re kindred spirits after all!
