Zhao Ziqiang’s indifference made Qian Wang ponder. Had he always been like this? No… something had changed, though it was hard to pinpoint exactly what.

Zhao Ziqiang’s fingers flew over the documents. One good thing about him was that when he got drunk, he would go wild, but as soon as he hit the bed, he would fall asleep. He got drunk easily but it never affected his life the next day.

So he came to work as usual, it was his last day because the company was going on holiday for three days, and today was the twenty-ninth day of the lunar new year.

Zhao Ziqiang didn’t buy groceries after work, as there was still cabbage left from yesterday. On the twenty-ninth, he was usually alone because there were too many noisy relatives at his parent’s home, which was also the case for Qian Wang’s family.

When he got home, he started a major cleaning session. In previous years, he didn’t do this, but this year he especially wanted to tidy up, so—of course, he was doing it himself.

As soon as he opened the bathroom door, he found Qian Wang sitting on the toilet lid with his head bowed.

Zhao Ziqiang frowned, “What are you doing?”

Qian Wang looked up, his expression sharp. “Did you go look for Sun Kan?”

Zhao Ziqiang pretended not to hear and, rolling up his sleeves, said, “Get out of the way… I’m washing the rags.”

Qian Wang suddenly stood up. Being a little taller gave him the advantage to easily elbow Zhao Ziqiang against the wall.

“What the hell are you acting like, you punk? I’m asking you something.”

Qian Wang had a distinct trait: he rarely got angry, but when he did, his swearing came out in a torrent of curses. However, Zhao Ziqiang clearly wasn’t fazed by this.

“I went to find that brat. So what, Teacher?” he said with a ruthless smirk.

Times had changed; Zhao Ziqiang didn’t know when he stopped being that thin little boy who was half the size of Qian Wang, nor did he remember when he stopped being that boy who stuttered and turned red with anxiety.

He was almost as tall as Qian Wang now. Fortunately, his growth spurt was over, but unfortunately, his body was still changing. Actually, Zhao Ziqiang felt that the changes in his body were all Qian Wang’s fault. After all, people often say that the longer you live together, the more alike you become. His body was just proof of that.

Both of them thought Zhao Ziqiang would at least look like a scholar in the future, but who would have known… now, he’s just an ordinary man, nothing more.

This was the second time Qian Wang had yelled at Zhao Ziqiang. The first time was when Zhao Ziqiang had shattered a beer bottle and injured his hand but refused to go to the hospital for stitches. He got scolded for that.

The reason for the second outburst wasn’t as touching.

Qian Wang was so angry that he lost his focus. What he was doing now produced a feeling similar to the resentment he had as a teenager, getting mad at his mother for taking away his adult magazines. It was a very long-lost feeling, and it excited him.

That feeling of being upset and unreasonable made him unhesitatingly punch Zhao Ziqiang’s indifferent and stubborn face.

“Shut up!”

Zhao Ziqiang was caught off guard by the punch, but he angrily realized that he was still unwilling to retaliate against the other person, just as he had in the past.

So he simply stiffly pushed Qian Wang’s hand away, shuffled back to the bedroom in his slippers, and flopped onto the bed. In this regard, the two of them were quite complementary; no matter how old he got, Zhao Ziqiang would always keep his anger bottled up inside, just punishing himself.

This was the first time Qian Wang encountered such a situation where he regretted what he had done afterward. He hesitated about whether to go into the bedroom and comfort Zhao Ziqiang, but… he looked at the text message in his hand, and there was still someone who needed comforting.

People often think that the first person they consider is the one they really care about, but that’s a misunderstanding.

Most of the time, people put others first and ignore those who should be close to them, believing that even if they make mistakes, their strong feelings will help them fix and maintain those close connections.

So Qian Wang went to find Sun Kan.

In Qian Wang’s eyes, compared to Zhao Ziqiang, who was gay only for himself, Sun Kan was born that way. As soon as he came into contact with someone strong, Sun Kan would naturally exhibit a feminine demeanor that Zhao Ziqiang could never match, even at his weakest.

Qian Wang also found it strange that his reason for reaching out to Sun Kan was either due to Zhao Ziqiang’s shortcomings, which made him feel discouraged, or simply a desire to stir up some trouble for excitement.

Life had become too monotonous.

Zhao Ziqiang was an intensely emotional person, but he seemed to keep those feelings hidden, showing an unchanging facade to the world. This created a striking contrast between his once handsome features and his now disgusting demeanor, which felt completely out of place.

Qian Wang paused. How could he describe Zhao Ziqiang as disgusting? He had once cherished that person so much.

Sun Kan was still crying and continued to sob while Qian Wang was lost in thought. His face was swollen, and bruises marked his arms, causing Qian Wang to feel a pang of sorrow. He glanced around and saw that this wasn’t the right place to cry. Fortunately, the food stall by the school’s back gate was open, even during the New Year, but there were only a few people around.

Qian Wang never hated it when people cried; he usually found it entertaining or merely observed. His words of comfort often felt obligatory. Besides Zhao Ziqiang, he had never genuinely held anyone crying in his arms with compassion.

So, as Sun Kan cried, he felt a deep sense of disappointment. He couldn’t understand why the usually gentle Professor Qian didn’t even try to console him.