Vol3 Chapter 2: Confession

“When are you going to Japan?” Lu Mingfei asked, eating his instant noodles absentmindedly.

“Summer break, probably…”

“Not coming back with me?”

“I want to check it out. If I don’t like it, I’ll come back.”

“And if you do like it?”

Lu Mingfei shrank back, a stark contrast to the fearless swagger he’d shown battling the Kings of Earth and Mountains, as if he were the world’s greatest badass. Now, he seemed timid, like that composed, commanding king and the current him were two different people.

“Then…” Bai Ci rested her chin on her knee, “I’ll stay there.”

“What about after that? I heard Cassell has a branch in Japan. Will you just stay there forever…?” He mumbled, sipping the noodle broth, eyes downcast. The broth was rich and fragrant, with little extras added. She really cared about him—putting so much effort even into instant noodles… or maybe noodles were all she could make?

The infirmary’s AC was chilly, but the soup warmed him slightly. Lu Mingfei set down the bowl, glancing at her. One shoe off, foot propped on the chair, chin on her knee, her school uniform skirt paired with thin leggings. Her thighs struck a perfect balance of softness and firmness, a bit of flesh subtly outlined by the leggings, her calves slender. Nono was right—textbook childbearing hips.

“Be safe in Japan if I don’t go back with you. Don’t eat random stuff. I’ll come for your birthday, but take care of yourself—don’t stay up all night,” Bai Ci said, looking at him.

Lu Mingfei thought, You sound like my mom! I’m getting all fluttery here, and you’re making it sound like I’m some filial son with impure thoughts.

But he nodded. “Yeah, got it, got it.” Bai Ci nodded back, satisfied he’d listened.

“You should be careful too. You’re flashing like that.”

“It’s fine, I’m wearing leggings.”

“Is that the point?”

“Close enough. I don’t care much about it.” Bai Ci waved it off, lowering her leg.

Lu Mingfei sighed, watching her. Before, it was always her in the infirmary bed, him sitting quietly by her side as the massive sunset sank outside, warm light spilling across her face, the evening breeze weaving through the room. He’d often thought about doing something while she slept—pinching her soft nose, sneaking a touch of her soft thigh or belly, or even going further, grabbing her chest.

But he never did. He just waited—for her to wake, to speak, or until he was so tired he dozed off beside her, and she’d wait for him to wake.

Now, he kind of regretted not doing something back then. But if he had, he wouldn’t be Lu Mingfei.

She was leaving, though. He had to say something, right?

A plump, perfect cabbage was right there—even a pig would take a chance! A country pig dreams of city cabbage! Charge! Brave little piglet! Rush in, topple the cabbage, and run off with it!

Lu Mingfei slurped the last of the broth, wiped his mouth.

“Let me ask you something.” He got off the bed, heart pounding like crazy, though he kept his cool. He could hear his blood rushing, like tidal waves crashing against his eardrums.

He’d imagined confessing to her countless times—under grand fireworks, in pouring rain under an eave, or in some nameless late-night moment, summoning the courage like in a movie, pouring out his heart with dramatic music swelling.

But now, the infirmary’s fluorescent lights buzzed, the AC rattled the curtains, the noodle bowl steamed faintly, and Bai Ci’s lashes drooped like she might nod off. No fireworks, no rain, no epic music—just disinfectant and the lingering scent of chicken broth noodles. This laughably plain setting was the only real stage he had.

Unrequited love stays hidden. You can love deeply, do so much, and maybe never be known. It deserves an ending, doesn’t it? Even a pig squeals before it dies.

He took a deep breath, long and heavy, as if sucking all the oxygen from the room to steel himself. His heartbeat thundered, like a broken drum.

“Bai Ci…” His voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat, trying to recapture his usual playful tone but failing, left with clumsy sincerity. “If you go to Japan… and you really like it, settle down…”

He paused, eyes darting, avoiding hers, landing on her hands resting on her knees. Slender, with faint calluses from sword practice. Those hands had passed him noodles, tucked a blanket over him while he slept, done so much.

“Then…” His Adam’s apple bobbed, the next words harder than slaying a Dragon King. “…Will you… just… not come back?”

He regretted it instantly. What a stupid question! That wasn’t what he meant to ask! He wanted to ask…

“I’ll come back,” Bai Ci said, smiling softly. “Are you saying… you’d miss me?”

“No!”

He snapped his head up, annoyed at his own cowardice, a reckless surge pushing him forward. His gaze locked onto her clear, calm eyes, the infirmary lights reflecting tiny specks in them.

“I mean!” His voice rose, trembling with desperation. “If you settle down, what about me?”

The air froze. The AC’s hum, the curtains’ rustle—all vanished. Only his pounding heart and “what about me” echoed in the small space, raw with clumsy, aggrieved resolve.

Bai Ci tilted her head, her expression calm, neither shocked nor embarrassed, like a still pond. She just looked at him, long lashes casting faint shadows, processing his vague, loaded words.

Her calm gaze made Lu Mingfei panic, his courage deflating like a punctured balloon. Done for! So stupid! It sounded like a pet whining after being abandoned. He wanted to crawl into a hole or rewind thirty seconds. His hand reached for the noodle bowl to hide his embarrassment, but his fingers shook.

Clang!

The empty bowl toppled, rolling off the nightstand, shattering the infirmary’s silence. Leftover broth splashed his pants and Bai Ci’s shoes.

“Sorry, sorry!” Lu Mingfei scrambled to pick it up, face burning, his fleeting courage smashed by the mishap, leaving only mortification. He wasn’t a brave piglet—he was a toad, failing to nab the cabbage and falling flat!

As he hunched over, wishing to disappear, a pale hand reached out, gently stopping his frantic grab for the bowl.

Lu Mingfei froze.

He felt the warmth of her hand, soft and gentle.

Slowly, he looked up.

Bai Ci had leaned forward from her chair, so close he could see the fine hairs on her face, smell the faint mix of disinfectant and her crisp scent.

Her eyes were still calm, but something stirred beneath, like ripples in a deep pool.

She didn’t glance at his stained pants or her dirtied shoes, just looked at his face.

Then Lu Mingfei saw her lips curve ever so slightly upward, a faint arc, barely there, but like a pebble dropped in a still lake, it sent massive ripples through his heart.

Is she… happy?

“Then I’ll bring you over,” Bai Ci said.

Lu Mingfei blinked, then grinned. Is this girl dense? Does she really think I just don’t want her to leave? It’s so obvious—how can she not see it? Is she clueless or pretending? That “pig-rush” urge, barely suppressed, nearly spiraled out of control at her casual, matter-of-fact words.

His embarrassment and regret melted into a mix of exasperation and amusement. Still bent over, he didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he turned his wrist slightly, loosely holding her cool fingers—his boldest move yet.

He looked up, cheeks still flushed from his blunder, but his eyes blazed with reckless, wry defiance, locking onto Bai Ci, so close now.

“Bring me over?” His voice was hoarse, tinged with mock indignation he didn’t even notice. “Miss, you think I’m luggage? Just pack me up and ship me?”

He leaned closer, shrinking the already small gap. “Or what, you think I, Lu Mingfei, can’t survive without you, gotta trail after you like a puppy? I’m a big deal at the Academy now—tons of girls like me!” His words came out sharp, mixed with embarrassed anger and a hidden fear of being left behind.

Bai Ci seemed startled by his sudden closeness and grip, her long lashes fluttering like startled wings. Her fingers curled slightly but didn’t pull away. She met his blazing eyes, swirling with embarrassment, anger, reckless courage, and something deeper that made her heart quiver.

Lu Mingfei didn’t give her time to respond—or maybe he was scared if he paused, his “pig-rush” momentum would collapse. Staring at her, his voice dropped, almost a challenge, a clumsy declaration: “Bai Ci, are you dense?” He gritted his teeth. “Am I just reluctant to see you go? I’m… I’m…”

The words caught in his throat, burning his tongue. He took a deep breath, his gaze flickering to her slightly parted lips, shocked, then darting away as if scalded, landing on her clear eyes.

“I’m freaking…” His Adam’s apple bobbed, blood rushing to his head, ears burning. The words he’d rehearsed countless times, never spoken in grand scenes, now burst out in this disinfectant-and-noodle-scented infirmary, witnessed by a spilled bowl and stained pants, in a near-desperate shout, low but trembling with resolve: “I’m freaking in love with you, Bai Ci! Got it?!”