He squinted his eyes and scrutinized the photo. M had taken it from above, as he had requested. Logically, it was an easy angle to get a good shot of the hand. But the feeling M captured… wasn’t great.

He had clearly white, long fingers, pink nails, and a narrow back of his hand. In the photo, the boy’s hand was casually resting on the desk. Maybe it was because of the yellowish light in their dorm, but the back of his hand looked a dull yellow, and the veins on the back of his hand were abnormally clear. The angle made the back of his hand look unusually wide.

How to put it, if the shooting angle was bad, even 柏原崇 (Bai Yuanchong) might resemble Song Xiaobao.

The hand photo M sent gave him that kind of feeling, even though the description was exaggerated.

Little Crab: [M, can you take another picture for me?]

M: [You’re not satisfied with the picture I took?]

Little Crab: [I think your hand is much prettier than the photo.]

M: [Want to meet?]

The solid particles floating in the air froze. Bian’er turned to stone for a few seconds. After a while, the seal was broken.

Bian’er chose his words carefully: [Isn’t it too soon?]

He couldn’t let M have the initiative.

Bian’er hurriedly sent another message: [I want to wait a little longer.]

The “typing…” indicator under M’s name appeared for a while before Bian’er saw the message he sent: [Yeah]

Bian’er felt guilty and was afraid that the other person would ask to meet again. He didn’t dare to mention taking a picture of his hand again. He quickly chatted with M for a while. When M said he was going to do his homework, Bian’er felt relieved and told him to go write quickly.

There were only a few pages left in the book he had borrowed from the library. Bian’er spent half an hour finishing it. There were no other books in the dorm. Bian’er thought for a moment and clicked on his phone. Gu Mi had enthusiastically recommended a novel to him at noon yesterday.

The word count of ABO novels is usually not very long. Over 100,000 words is considered a long novel. This book was close to 200,000 words.

Bian’er had originally intended to just pass the time because the setting was a bit of a turn-off for him.

Ten minutes later, he was truly amazed.

Twenty minutes later, he was reading very slowly, wanting to savor every word.

200,000 words was too short. It was over before he knew it. Bian’er couldn’t bear to finish it too quickly. How could there be such a talented author? He wanted to tie her up and not let her leave the room for ten days and ten nights until she wrote another ten thousand words.

The novel was too addictive. Bian’er even forgot to say goodnight to M every night, as he usually did.

The next morning, after washing up, he saw the goodnight message M had sent last night. Bian’er replied with a “Little cat good morning” emoji and then clicked on the novel he hadn’t finished last night.

He spent almost two days of free time on this novel. After finishing it, Bian’er reluctantly showered the author with five hundred words of praise. He also discussed the novel with Gu Mi for dozens of messages, a sweet but not cloying ABO novel with entangled love and desire, where they tried their best to restrain themselves but couldn’t control their own hearts. Bian’er’s adrenaline, which had been surging because of the novel, finally subsided.

He clicked on the chat box with M. Their last conversation had stopped at lunchtime. Bian’er had ordered takeout for lunch today. He complained to the other person that the braised pork rice today was too salty. He couldn’t even finish it.

M suggested that he could reorder.

Bian’er remembered that he had waited for a few minutes and didn’t get a reply from M, so he quickly finished his lunch and clicked on the novel he hadn’t finished.

In the past seven hours, besides classes, he had been obsessed with ABO. He hadn’t replied to M’s messages.

Two hours ago, M suddenly sent a message asking him if he was scared by the idea of meeting so soon?

People have limited energy. Bian’er glanced at their chat history for the past two days. His average response time to M’s messages was much longer than M’s response time to him.

Bian’er hissed, his fingers nervously tapping on his phone. [I wasn’t scared. It’s just that I’ve been a bit busy these past two days, so I haven’t been replying to messages very promptly.]

M instantly replied: [Busy with what?]

He tapped on the keyboard for a while. Bian’er typed and deleted.

M: [Little Crab, I think you can tell me the truth, right?]

Because he was immersed in an extremely captivating ABO novel, he had temporarily ignored his amorous object. Bian’er scratched his cheek. He was really embarrassed to tell M the answer.

Bian’er subconsciously wanted to make up an excuse. M’s new message pierced Bian’er’s eyes. Bian’er’s heart felt a sharp, stabbing pain.

This relationship had been filled with lies from the beginning. But it was a lie out of desperation. Did he need to fill in the details of his interactions with M with lies in their daily life?

Bian’er took a deep breath and honestly confessed: [A friend recommended a really good novel to me. I… I was busy reading it.]

There was no immediate reply from M on the screen. It took two minutes before a new message appeared.

M: [Is that why you disappeared at noon and at night these past two days?]

Little Crab: […It’s a bit too good…]

Little Crab: [I think it’s the best novel I’ve read this year!!]

After sending the message, Bian’er saw the other person typing for a while. But after the “typing…” indicator disappeared for a long time, he still didn’t get a message from M.

Little Crab: [Are you angry?]

Little Crab: [Little cat wide-eyed JPG]

He still didn’t get a reply from the other person.

After a while, Bian’er sent another message: [Oh, the power lines are going to be repaired for maintenance at noon tomorrow. M, the snack street outside the back gate of Huai University will be without power for four hours.]

No reply.

Little Crab: [Has artificial intelligence developed to this stage?]

Little Crab: [Link]

Little Crab: [I saw this news. Robots in Japan can actually use all kinds of smart appliances.]

Little Crab: [It’s a rumor, right?]

He sent many more messages, one after another, about news, entertainment, astronomy, geography, and cute pets.

During this time of chatting with M online, M wasn’t a talkative person, but he would listen to what he said and respond to every sentence.

But now, his intuition told him that the lack of response wasn’t because he hadn’t seen it, but because he didn’t want to respond.

Little Crab: [Can you talk to me?]

Little Crab: [Little cat pitiful JPG]

Before going to bed, Bian’er sent four or five pages of messages. Even a simple “Yeah” wouldn’t be given to Bian’er.

Bian’er lay in bed and sighed with worry. [Are you going to sleep?]

Little Crab: [Goodnight]

Little Crab: [Crab covers himself with a blanket JPG]

M: [Yeah, goodnight.]

Bian’er was about to throw his phone on the pillow and go to sleep when, unexpectedly, he saw a message from M. He clutched his phone and quickly typed a message: [M, you’re not asleep yet?]

No response.

Bian’er pouted and dejectedly sent a message: [Then let’s chat tomorrow?]

The next day, Bian’er sent a message. M only replied to Bian’er’s “Good morning” with three words. All other messages were like stones thrown into the sea.

On Friday night, Bian’er and Song Yongzhao had dinner at the snack street outside the school. After dinner, Song Yongzhao took Bian’er for a walk around the boutique shops on the snack street.

“Bian, how does this pair of sunglasses look?” Song Yongzhao put a pair of sunglasses with exaggeratedly large lenses on his straight nose. He stared at himself in the mirror for a few seconds and asked Bian’er for his opinion.

Bian’er shook his head. “It doesn’t look good. It’s too big.”

Song Yongzhao took off the sunglasses and went to look at others.

Bian’er took out his phone and sighed helplessly. He had sent over ten messages this afternoon, but M still hadn’t replied to him.

He wandered aimlessly around the boutique, glancing at the accessories on the jewelry counter to the left. Bian’er stopped.

The butterfly chain on the navy blue linen tablecloth was clinking as it was picked up, the tassels hitting each other. If it had been half a month ago, Bian’er would have thought it was a necklace, although it seemed a bit large.

But now, Bian’er didn’t need to ask the sales clerk. He knew it must be a waist chain.

There were eight or nine waist chains on the tablecloth. Bian’er looked at each one carefully. He didn’t buy the last one. The things in the university town were all about value for money, and the quality couldn’t compare to the pearl waist chain that M had given him.

Bian’er returned to the dorm and searched for waist chains on the shopping app for two hours. Finally, he placed an order for four.

After buying the waist chains, Bian’er sent a message to M.

Little Crab: [M, I got you a gift.]

Since last night, M’s replies had been slow. He often only replied with a simple “Yeah.” But this time, he replied very quickly, and with several words.

M: [What is it?]

Bian’er held his phone. Thinking of the gift he had prepared, his heart beat faster. [You’ll know tomorrow.]

M didn’t reply. Until bedtime, he replied with two words: Goodnight.

Bian’er didn’t have a shift at the coffee shop on Saturday. He spent the day in the library. Before leaving, he borrowed two books on history. The things he bought last night had already been delivered to the Cainiao Station at the school. Bian’er picked up the package and returned to the dorm.

Three out of the four waist chains were beautifully crafted. Only one was not as expected. Bian’er took the one that was not as expected back to the station to return it. He put the remaining three waist chains in his backpack, put on a mask, walked out of the Huai University gate, and chose a hotel to book a two-hour room.

He entered the hotel room and opened his backpack. After some deliberation, he chose the butterfly-shaped waist chain.

Bian’er pulled the hem of his white T-shirt up to above his navel. He lowered his head and put on the waist chain in the bathroom. The waist chain was a circle of butterflies in flight, each one a slightly different color, but all in harmonious shades of pink and purple. The chain was made of cold, hard metal, but the butterflies were not. They were made of a material that felt like dried flowers, light and delicate.

After admiring the boy in the mirror for a few moments, Bian’er pulled the waistband of his sweatpants down a little. He took a few pictures and then opened the chat box with M.

Little Crab: [M, are you there? I’ve prepared your gift.]

After seven or eight minutes, Bian’er received a message from M: [?]

Bian’er sent three pictures that he thought were beautiful.

But he waited for another ten minutes. The metal around his waist had warmed up to his body temperature, but he still didn’t get a response from M.

Bian’er bit his lip and nervously typed: [You don’t like it?]

M: [What if I don’t like you?]

Bian’er put the remaining waist chains from his backpack on the desk in the hotel room. He took a picture and sent it to M.

Little Crab: [I bought two more. Do you like any of them?]

M: [Where are you? That doesn’t look like your dorm desk.]

Little Crab: [Someone is in the dorm tonight. I booked a short-stay room.]

M: [Wear the pearl seashell waist chain.]