69: Chapter 69 An Apology That Cannot Be Conveyed

The afternoon sun always carried a sleepy magic.

Especially in this class called "Literary History."

The Old Professor on the podium spoke in such a monotonous tone that it sounded like chanting, and a large swath of the students below had slumped over, leaving only the fans spinning tirelessly with a whirring sound.

Leng Qingxuan sat in the first row, her back straight as a board.

From behind, she looked like the most attentive student in the class, the light in the teacher's eyes.

But in reality, she hadn't turned a page in a long time.

Her mind had long since flown to the ends of the earth, or more accurately, to someone in the back row.

Her phone screen lit up and went dark, over and over again.

In her notes app, the text she had edited countless times felt like a hot potato.

"I'm sorry, I was too useless today..."

Delete. Too pathetic, not like me.

"Regarding the forum matter, although it's resolved, I..."

Delete. Too formal, like writing a self-criticism letter.

"Come to my room tonight, I want to give you..."

Delete! That's too easy to misunderstand!

Although... although she did have a bit of that in mind.

But if she sent it so bluntly, he would definitely refuse! And he would be on guard!

Leng Qingxuan irritably tugged at her hair, leaving her originally silky, long black hair a bit messy.

She felt like her CPU was about to burn out.

This was ten thousand times harder than having her beat a Soulslike game.

"Forget it!"

She self-deprecatingly placed her phone face down on the desk with a soft click.

She would just improvise on the spot.

Only words thought of while looking into his eyes could convey that sense of guilt and... feelings to him.

Just then, the Old Professor pushed up his glasses, which were as thick as beer bottle bottoms, and scanned the room with a piercing gaze.

That look was like a falcon patrolling its territory, searching for unfortunate prey.

"It seems everyone is very sleepy," the Old Professor said with a smile, "Then let's randomly pick a few questions to help everyone wake up."

In an instant, the lifeless classroom was suddenly filled with an air of liveliness.

Everyone wished they could bury their heads in their desks, terrified of making eye contact with the teacher.

Leng Qingxuan's heart skipped a beat.

Oh no.

She hadn't heard a single punctuation mark of what was just said.

If she were called upon, her carefully maintained image would be ruined.

"Then... let's go with the male student sitting by the window in the back row."

The Old Professor's finger pointed from afar, locking onto his target accurately, "Yes, that's you, I recall it's Student Huang Mao, right?"

Phew—

Leng Qingxuan let out a long sigh of relief, her tense shoulders instantly relaxing.

Thank goodness it wasn't me.

But the next second, her mind became active again.

In a university classroom, moments like this, when someone is called upon, are often the focus of the whole class.

By convention, the person called upon is met with gazes from all directions.

In other words—turning around to look at him now is perfectly reasonable! It won't seem abrupt!

What a perfect opportunity this is!

Leng Qingxuan suppressed the excitement in her heart and, pretending to be casual, turned her head along with everyone else's gaze.

She had rehearsed her expression in her mind.

It needed to show a little worry, a little encouragement, and a hint of "You weren't listening, were you?" reproach.

As long as their eyes met, even for just a second, it would be a silent form of communication.

However.

When she turned her head, full of anticipation, the scene she saw was like a bucket of cold water poured over her from head to toe.

Huang Mao had indeed stood up.

But he wasn't looking at anyone, nor the podium, and certainly not at her.

He was looking down, his gaze fixed on his textbook.

And beside his textbook, a fair, slender, and well-defined hand was gently pressing on the page.

The owner of that hand, Su Muxue, was turned slightly, pointing at a certain paragraph in the book with an extremely natural posture.

Although she couldn't hear the sound, it looked like she was whispering to remind Huang Mao what to read.

The sunlight shone through the window onto the two of them, gilding their silhouettes with a golden rim.

That picture was harmoniously blinding.

It was like... a couple helping each other, with such chemistry that there was no room for a third person to intervene.

"Hmm, such and such... such and such..."

Huang Mao fluently read out the answer according to where Su Muxue was pointing.

"Very good, sit down."

The Old Professor nodded in satisfaction, "It seems that although Student Huang Mao had his eyes closed, his heart was still in the classroom."

A burst of good-natured laughter rippled through the classroom.

Huang Mao sat back down and turned his head to say something to Su Muxue, Su Muxue covered her mouth and giggled, her eyes curving, full of tenderness.

Leng Qingxuan stiffly turned her head back.

This guy... why is she still sitting next to him?

Huang Mao, won't you say anything to her?

That distance, that intimate posture—don't you think it's inappropriate at all?

Have you already fallen into her gentle trap?

An indescribable sourness exploded in her chest, mixed with grievance and anger, making her eyes heat up.

Clearly... clearly that spot should have been mine.

Clearly I could have helped you find the answer too.

But now, I can only sit in the first row like an outsider, watching you two "flirting" in the back.

The next two classes were a blur for Leng Qingxuan.

The seventh and eighth periods were so-called "easy classes," where the teacher played a PPT while she sat below, spacing out.

Her brain was filled with that image from earlier, unable to shake it off.

Finally.

The bell rang like the music of the heavens.

Leng Qingxuan packed her bag in a flurry.

Her phone vibrated.

It was a message from An Ran.

【An Ran：@Huang Mao @Leng Qingxuan, I'm heading off first, but I don't have the keys. You guys with the keys better hurry up, this young lady doesn't want to be a door guard!】

Looking at the message in the group chat, Leng Qingxuan took a deep breath.

She walked to the classroom door, but her footsteps slowed down involuntarily.

Her gaze drifted backward uncontrollably.

Huang Mao was still slowly packing his things.

Should she wait for him?

If they went back together, they could talk on the way, she could explain today's events, she could...

But what if they got photographed again?

What if those people on the forum started spreading rumors again?

The storm that had finally calmed down today could not be reignited because of her impulsiveness.

"Phew..."

Leng Qingxuan gritted her teeth, forcibly suppressing the longing in her heart.

Forget it.

She would talk when she got home.

As long as she returned to that space where only they were, everything would be fine.

There, there were no outsiders' gazes, no malicious speculation, only...

Thinking of this, she no longer hesitated, lowered her head, and walked quickly out of the classroom, her figure looking somewhat flustered.

Inside the classroom.

Huang Mao stuffed the last book into his bag and looked up just in time to see Leng Qingxuan's figure disappearing at the door.

The way she hurried off, it was as if someone was chasing her.

"This girl..."

Huang Mao shook his head helplessly.

He wasn't an idiot; how could he not see that something was wrong with Leng Qingxuan all day?

She was probably still dwelling on the forum matter.

He hadn't realized she had this kind of quirk before.

But, after they got back, as long as they interacted normally, she should be able to think it through and get better on her own, right?

"Master."

A soft call interrupted his thoughts.

Su Muxue had already shouldered her bag at some point and was standing obediently by his side.

Her hands were folded in front of her, and she bowed slightly—her posture was even more standard than a professional butler's.

"What would you like to eat tonight? On the way back, there's a fresh food supermarket not far from home; I can pre-order some ingredients."

Her voice was very soft, audible only to the two of them.

That perfectly measured respect both satisfied a man's vanity and didn't make anyone feel awkward.

Huang Mao thought about the stock in the fridge at home.

"There are still plenty of vegetables, but An Ran has been training all day, so let's buy her some pork ribs or beef to restore her energy."

"Understood, Muxue has noted it."

Su Muxue nodded, then looked up, a hint of anticipation flashing in her watery eyes.

"Then... shall I head off first?"

She paused and said pointedly, "I will wait for you at the entrance of that store; there are few people there, so we won't be seen by classmates."

Huang Mao raised an eyebrow.

This girl, her game is really high level.

She wanted to walk with him but was wary of his "low-profile principle," so she proactively proposed this staged plan.

Separate at school, meet up when they got near home.

It avoided risks while achieving the goal of going home together.

And that phrase "there are few people there" was practically an implication: once we get there, we can be a little closer, okay?

Looking at her eyes, which seemed to speak, Huang Mao sighed inwardly.

"Fine."

Huang Mao slung his bag over his shoulder, "But if you can't wait, just go back first."

"I will wait as long as it takes."

Su Muxue replied almost instantly.

A breathtaking arc curled at the corners of her lips, and a chilling persistence shone in her eyes.

"As long as I am waiting for Master, how long it takes doesn't matter."

Having said that, she bowed slightly again and turned to leave the classroom.

Her steps were light, her skirt fluttering.

Watching her back, Huang Mao rubbed his nose.

He felt... tonight's Shuraba would be very exciting.

Twenty minutes later.

Huang Mao's small villa.

Leng Qingxuan opened the door and let in An Ran, who had been squatting at the door until her legs were numb.

"Oh my, you're finally back!"

An Ran complained while changing her shoes, "I'm starving! I haven't really stopped all day! This schedule is seriously insane!"

She tossed her bag onto the sofa and flopped down there without any decorum.

"By the way, Iceberg, about that forum thing today, didn't have time to ask much at school, can you tell me in detail now?"

Leng Qingxuan's hand, which was pouring water, paused slightly.

"There's nothing much to say."

She lowered her eyelids, her voice a bit low, "It's all resolved."

"That's good! I knew that guy Huang Mao was reliable!"

An Ran chuckled and sprang up from the sofa, "I'm going upstairs to change clothes, or maybe just take a shower; being this sweaty is miserable."

With that, the energetic girl ran upstairs with a thud-thud-thud.

The living room returned to quiet.

Leng Qingxuan sat on the sofa, holding her water glass.

She didn't turn on the TV, nor did she play with her phone.

She just sat there quietly, her hands gripping the cup tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

Like a criminal waiting for judgment.

Time passed minute by minute.

Every second felt like it was pulling at her nerves.

Finally.

Click.

The sound of the door lock turning rang out.

Leng Qingxuan stood up from the sofa abruptly, as if electrocuted.

Her heartbeat accelerated to the extreme in an instant.

He's back!

She took a deep breath, adjusted her expression, and walked quickly toward the entryway.

"Huang..."

The name was just on the tip of her tongue, but it got stuck in her throat.

The door opened.

It wasn't just Huang Mao who walked in.

There was also Su Muxue.

The two walked in almost side-by-side.

Su Muxue was carrying a shopping bag containing fresh vegetables and meat.

She was tilted her head, saying something to Huang Mao, her face carrying a smile that was gentle to the bone.

"...Then let's make braised pork ribs tonight? I saw the ribs at this place were very fresh."

"Sure, add a bit more sugar; An Ran likes sweet flavors."

This scene.

It was too natural.

Too harmonious.

Too... like a home.

They looked just like a "newlywed couple" who had just returned from work and were discussing what to have for dinner.

The domestic atmosphere permeating between the two was so thick it was suffocating.

Leng Qingxuan stood at the boundary between the living room and the entryway, frozen in place.

All the courage she had mustered was, in that instant, like a balloon pricked by a needle, leaking away completely.

She felt like a superfluous intruder.

An out-of-place "outsider."

In this place that was supposed to be her "safe harbor," she suddenly couldn't find her place.

Huang Mao was changing his shoes and looked up to see Leng Qingxuan standing there.

"Yo, back early?"

He greeted her with a natural tone, "Hungry? I'll cook soon."

That tone was just like how one would treat an ordinary roommate.

No special concern, no expected comfort; it was so plain it was unsettling.

Leng Qingxuan opened her mouth.

Her throat felt blocked by a ball of cotton, dry and painful.

She wanted to say something, to break this suffocating atmosphere.

But watching Su Muxue skillfully take the jacket from Huang Mao's hand and hang it on the coat rack, watching that unspoken chemistry between them—she suddenly felt so pathetic.

"I..."

Leng Qingxuan lowered her head, not daring to look at that blinding scene again.

"I'm going upstairs first."

Leaving behind this nonsensical sentence, she turned around and rushed toward the stairs as if fleeing.

Her steps were messy, her back looking flustered.

"Huh?"

Huang Mao watched her figure disappear hurriedly at the top of the stairs and sighed helplessly.

This girl, she was getting stuck in a rut again.

He had thought things would be better when they got back, but her reaction was even stronger than it had been at school.

"It seems Sister Qingxuan is still in a bad mood."

Su Muxue stood to the side, looking toward the stairs, lost in thought.

Could this be the best opportunity for her to "take advantage of the situation"?