HRMCF Chapter 4

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🍋‍🟩 Completed Chapter

Except for elective courses, Shen Yan attended almost every class with Zhao Linsu. It had almost become a habit.

After all, they’d been deskmates from elementary school all the way to university.

Even in high school when everyone had individual desks, the two were only separated by an aisle—still basically deskmates.

Now in college, although they weren’t in the same dorm, unless there were special circumstances, they always met downstairs before class and went together. Add in Zhu Ningbo, and Shen Yan thought this “iron triangle” was pretty great. People are social animals, after all—it’s nice to go through college with a close buddy who knows you inside out.

Or so he thought.

Bullshit!

Shen Yan had never realized how present Zhao Linsu was.

Zhao Linsu’s arms were long—just a slight bend of his elbow and he'd touch him. His legs were long too—just shifting his posture a bit and he’d touch him again. And Zhao Linsu's scent, his breath, the heat radiating off his body… all things that used to feel completely normal now felt overwhelmingly obvious.

It was like a stranger had suddenly sat next to him.

Shen Yan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, scooting a bit to the left.

The slight scraping sound his chair made rang like thunder in his ears.

His heart was pounding like mad, and his back broke out in a nervous sweat.

Shen Yan didn’t even know why he was so panicked.

He couldn’t focus on class at all—his brain was a total mess.

Sneaking out his phone under the desk, Shen Yan typed out a desperate search.

“Does having sexual fantasies about the same sex mean you’re gay?”

Honestly, Shen Yan was just grasping at straws. This whole sudden situation had completely thrown him off.

Tons of results popped up, and he randomly clicked into a site that looked like a forum.

“Hi, having sexual fantasies about the same sex doesn’t necessarily mean you’re gay.”

Right off the bat, that first reply made Shen Yan’s eyes light up, and he quickly kept reading.

“First, let’s understand what sexual fantasies are. They’re imagined scenarios involving sex, usually things that are unlikely or impossible in real life.
Some people are super well-behaved in daily life, but might be more uninhibited in their fantasies. So fantasies don’t reflect real-life desires directly. Don’t panic if you’ve had a same-sex fantasy—it might just be curiosity or looking for a thrill. It’s normal. Same-sex fantasies are a classic example of taboo fantasies and don’t necessarily mean you're gay.”

“Agreed with the above. Sexual fantasies are totally normal—even same-sex ones. Fantasy and reality aren’t the same thing.”

“+1. Don’t mix up fantasies and reality.”

“If having a same-sex fantasy means I’m gay, then what about my fantasies of dead historical figures? Does that make me a necrophile?”

“A fantasy is just a fantasy. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Life is already tough—why not go wild in your head every now and then?”

“Fun fact: sexual fantasies and sexual orientation aren’t the same. Maybe read more books.”

...

Shen Yan was stunned.

He didn’t expect everyone to have such a unified take on what he thought was a done deal.

Even crazier—he was kind of convinced?

He closed the forum and kept scrolling.

The internet had all sorts of takes, but the overall consensus was the same:

Sexual fantasies ≠ reality.

Having a same-sex fantasy doesn’t mean you’re gay.

The more he researched, the more obsessed he got—he even started digging into academic papers. It got real scholarly, real fast.

Sure, what he was experiencing felt like metaphysics, but hey—trust in science.

And science, it turns out, stood with the people: fantasies and reality are two separate things.

Shen Yan twisted his stiff neck, sneaking a glance at Zhao Linsu.

His profile was sharp like it had been carved—brows, eyes, nose, all distinct and striking. His features were so sharp they made him look arrogant. Right now, he had his chin slightly raised, his expression focused—obviously paying attention in class.

He didn’t look like the kind of guy with… base desires.

The class went on for almost two hours, and right after, it was time for lunch.

“I’ve got something to do, heading off first.”

Shen Yan grabbed his bag and left. Zhu Ningbo leaned back to let him squeeze through. Once Shen Yan was out the door, he looked at Zhao Linsu with confusion.

“What’s up with him?”

Zhao Linsu calmly packed his notebook. “On his period.”

Zhu Ningbo asked, “Should we wait for him at the cafeteria?”

Zhao Linsu stood up. “You go ahead, I’m out.”

Zhu Ningbo scratched his head, feeling a bit like he’d been abandoned the moment school started.

Shen Yan didn’t go to the cafeteria after class. He followed the crowd out, walked all the way to the Humanities building, then sat on a shady patch of grass. Only after sitting down did he realize he’d forgotten to eat breakfast.

Damn Zhao Linsu—what kind of maniac fantasizes about him?! Shen Yan cursed him internally while pulling a sandwich from his bag. Luckily the classroom had good AC—the sandwich didn’t smell off. He chewed tastelessly for a few bites before picking up his phone again to continue doom-scrolling about sexual fantasies.

The more he read, the more confused he got.

Finally, he stuffed his phone into his pocket. Enough. He needed a break.

With a milk carton between his lips, Shen Yan sat there, frowning deeper and deeper. Seriously, what the hell was Zhao Linsu doing fantasizing about him?

It just didn’t make sense.

Zhao Linsu didn’t show any signs of being into guys.

Their interactions felt totally normal.

Unless… unless science was right? Maybe it really was just a coincidence?

Maybe Zhao Linsu’s brain just short-circuited last night and wanted something exciting?

Shen Yan tried a different angle, attempting to get into Zhao Linsu’s mindset—and instantly recoiled, goosebumps rising. “Ew.” He shuddered, started packing up his things, and—

Saw a pair of shoes right behind his bag.

They looked familiar. Got kicked by them just this morning.

Shen Yan slowly looked up.

Zhao Linsu stood above him, one hand in his pocket, looking down.

“Where’s mine?”

Shen Yan didn’t get it.

Zhao Linsu sat down next to him, grabbed his bag like he owned it, and pulled out the milk and eggs with practiced ease.

Shen Yan stared at him, expression complex. “That’s yours? I don’t see your name on it.”

Zhao Linsu didn’t respond. He peeled the egg quickly and handed it over.

The egg was pristine, white, and glossy, resting on Zhao Linsu’s clean, long fingers. Shen Yan instinctively flinched back, ears burning.

“Freak. Who wants to eat—”

Before he could finish, the egg made a sharp turn and went straight into Zhao Linsu’s mouth.

Shen Yan: “…”

Zhao Linsu smirked at Shen Yan’s dumbfounded face. “In your dreams.”

Shen Yan: SAY IT AGAIN, WHO’S DREAMING??

“Zhao Linsu, you—”

He couldn’t even get the words out.

Face red, speechless, Shen Yan stared hatefully at the two words floating above Zhao Linsu’s head.

Being too handsome really should be a punishable offense.

This bastard looked completely unbothered, even smug.

So damn sly.

Finally, under Shen Yan’s glare, Zhao Linsu lowered his head.

Good. At least the jerk still had some shame, maybe he’d finally reflect on whether he should— “HOLY SHIT—”

Shen Yan shot to his feet.

Zhao Linsu glanced up with a smile. “What are you screaming for?”

A jersey came flying at him. Shen Yan caught it instinctively, opened it up—and his eyes sparkled.

“You bought this?”

“Obviously.”

Zhao Linsu’s mocking smile remained. “Look at the back.”

Shen Yan flipped it over.

“HOLY SHIT!”

He yelled it ten more times.

Hands trembling, eyes wide, he was nearly incoherent. “A signature! It’s signed—holy shit, Zhao Linsu, where did you get this—this is insane!”

Zhao Linsu still looked calm, sipping some milk. “Wouldn’t come back empty-handed.”

Shen Yan kissed the jersey, practically floating with happiness.

His favorite player’s signed jersey!

Expensive, rare, and full of fakes—hard to get even if you saved up and took a risk.

He was so happy he ran in place like a kid.

Zhao Linsu stood up with his bag. “Let’s go. 3 PM, school gate.”

“Got it,” Shen Yan said without thinking.

By the time he realized what just happened, Zhao Linsu was gone, blending into the crowd, his name barely visible now.

Shen Yan held the jersey tightly, conflicted. Damn… can’t be mad now.

He stared at it again. God, he loved it. And Zhao Linsu didn’t even play basketball—he gave it to him for nothing.

While finding excuses for himself, Shen Yan texted Zhao Linsu:

sy: Thanks. How much was it?

Right after sending it, his face burned a little.

This jersey wasn’t about money. Zhao Linsu obviously knew how much he loved it, and went through all that trouble. The cost didn’t matter—it was the thought.

But… what did Zhao Linsu mean?

He was so damn confused.

Zhao Linsu didn’t reply, so Shen Yan just kept touching the jersey and staring at the signature—he loved it.

Good friends really are the best.

If only he’d stop fantasizing about him.

Ding— something clicked.

Shen Yan’s eyes lit up again.

He might just have a solution.

After the elective, Shen Yan rushed to the school gate. Zhao Linsu wasn’t leaning on the car this time, just tapped the door when he arrived.

Shen Yan got in and asked again, “How much did that jersey cost?”

Zhao Linsu gave him a look. “Are you sick?”

Shen Yan knew he wasn’t getting an answer.

Ten years of friendship meant they weren’t the type to fuss over money. Birthdays, holidays, trips—they’d exchanged countless gifts.

Back when they first became friends, Shen Yan emptied all his savings to buy Zhao Linsu a gaming console for his tenth birthday. Zhao Linsu asked how much it was—Shen Yan snapped at him. He never asked again, and before Shen Yan’s birthday rolled around, Zhao Linsu gave him a limited-edition collectible set.

That’s friendship—give and take, keeping each other in mind. That’s where the bond lies.

Shen Yan patted his bag—his beloved jersey was in there.

He took a deep breath, trying to relax. Looking out the window, he casually said, “Hey, wanna watch some anime? There’s this new one with a super hot female lead.”

Hold it in, Shen Yan told himself. Act normal. Just recommending a show to your buddy. No big deal.

The car was running smoothly—seemed like Zhao Linsu had nerves of steel.

“Sure.”

Hearing that, Shen Yan quietly let out a breath. All right. Perfect. Watch some anime, change fantasy target, problem solved.

He turned to glance at Zhao Linsu, already feeling lighter at the thought that those words above his head might finally change. A small smile crept onto his face.

Zhao Linsu smiled too, lips curving slightly, eyes twinkling. “Wanna watch it at my place tonight?”

Shen Yan: Thanks for the invite, now kindly fk off ^_^**