Vol3 Chapter 4: Neurosis

The late-night Cassell College cafeteria was vast and cold, like an enormous, icy tomb. The metal tables and chairs glinted harshly under the pale fluorescent lights, and the air, thick with the lingering mix of dinner smells, felt oppressive, suffocating.

Lu Mingfei sat at a corner table, surrounded by a dozen empty beer cans, clutching a newly opened one. The cold aluminum was warmed and slightly dented by his sweaty, trembling hands. He tilted his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing, chugging the bitter, cheap liquid that burned its way to his stomach.

Beer was bitter and awful—Lu Mingfei always thought cola tasted better—but right now, he just wanted to drink.

Footsteps approached, steady and clear, each step on the cold floor carrying an undeniable presence, shattering the desolate silence.

Lu Mingfei didn’t look up. He didn’t want to see anyone, especially not now. He just wanted to rot here, like forgotten sludge. No one cared, no one bothered—perfect.

The footsteps stopped beside his table. A shadow loomed over his hunched form. The voice was low, steady, emotionless, stating a simple fact: “You’ve drunk a lot.”

“Senior Brother? Still up?” Lu Mingfei took another swig. “Wanna join me?”

“Sure.”

Chu Zihang rarely drank—alcohol wasn’t great for the body and dulled the mind, a feeling he disliked.

He took a sip, paused for a few seconds, then said slowly, “Your confession failed?”

“Word travels fast, huh, Senior Brother? Xia Mi told you?”

“Yeah.” Chu Zihang nodded. “She asked me to check on you.”

“What a stellar junior sister,” Lu Mingfei said with a wry chuckle.

“So… what now?”

“What else? Just keep going…”

“Giving up?”

“Senior Brother, not everyone’s as lucky as you, finding a girl like Xia Mi.”

“I can help.”

“How? Kidnap her?”

“Blow up the plane’s wheels before it takes off.”

“Don’t mess around, Senior Brother. I’m too young to end up in jail.” Lu Mingfei drank again. “I’ve figured it out, though.”

“Figured what out?”

“I’m doing pretty well, right? Tons of girls like me. The world’s full of options.”

“So you’re really giving up?”

“Yeah…” Lu Mingfei said. “She’s off to Japan to be a fancy lady. She’ll meet guys way better than me—handsome, rich, talented. They’ll kiss, whisper sweet nothings, roll in the sheets. All this time, we’ve just been gaming buddies in an internet café. Once she gets a boyfriend, they’ll stroll, watch movies, eat, make out. Maybe she’ll invite me to be a groomsman at her wedding.”

“I thought I was important in her life, but I’m the real idiot,” he said softly. “What can I do? She never saw me that way—just a friend.”

“Enough!” Chu Zihang’s forehead vein twitched, a rare flash of anger, though restrained, roaring like a lion. “If you believe you can’t do something, you won’t! Because you’ve already thrown away hope—how can you succeed?”

He despised the helplessness in Lu Mingfei’s words. He’d erased “helplessness” from his own dictionary.

Lu Mingfei froze, stammering, “J-just talking, don’t take it seriously. You know I ramble.”

“Without hope, you’ll achieve nothing,” Chu Zihang said, locking eyes with him. “And you’re not an idiot. It takes immense strength to express your true feelings. No matter the outcome, that’s not something an ‘idiot’ does.”

Lu Mingfei fell silent, then gave an ugly laugh.

“Senior Brother, deep down, I’m still that loser. You’re the tall, rich, handsome guy. You know, I got into a fight in middle school. Classmates said my parents divorced abroad, neither wanting me, dumping me at my uncle’s.” He licked his lips. “My aunt chewed me out, dragged me to apologize, made me do the guy’s chores to offset medical bills. At home, I overheard her and my uncle wondering if my parents really divorced abroad without telling them, if anyone would keep paying my living expenses.”

Chu Zihang froze.

“For a week, I did that guy’s chores. At night, I served dinner to everyone before eating, washed dishes. My aunt said my living expenses were running out, that she’d saved them separately, hadn’t touched them. My cousin said if my money stopped coming, I’d have to move out so he could have his own room.” Lu Mingfei gave a pained laugh. “I told her about it. The next day, that guy didn’t show up at school—heard he got whacked from behind. I went to the internet café, and she was gaming. I didn’t think much of it then, but now… it was probably her.”

“So, Senior Brother, you’re awesome because you’ve got people backing you—your rich stepdad, your beautiful mom. Me? I’ve got nothing now, no one to back me. I’m back to being that worthless loser.”

“So don’t talk to a loser about courage or hope.”

Chu Zihang fell silent, time crawling through the cold air and heavy beer fumes.

He did have what Lu Mingfei called “backing”—a wealthy stepfather, a gentle mother, a privileged life. Those were the foundation of his “tall, rich, handsome” image, part of his strength. But Lu Mingfei? The boy “abandoned” by his parents at his uncle’s, scraping by on uncertain living expenses, forced to grovel and apologize to his bully…

That figure gaming quietly in the internet café, the boy living cautiously under his aunt’s harsh words, doing chores for his tormentor, fearing eviction at night—that was the real Lu Mingfei, buried beneath the S-rank shine and current “glory.” His carefree quips and loser act weren’t entirely fake; they grew from a barren, scarred soil.

The world seemed to hate Lu Mingfei, cruel and unkind.

It felt like everything was against him.

Chu Zihang thought of the kid who got ambushed. In that moment, a vague image of a girl with fierce, stubborn eyes flashed through his mind. Had Bai Ci, even back then, been protecting this boy the world had wronged, in her clumsy, resolute way? That protection, spanning years, had ended like this…

A massive shock and a sharp, belated understanding gripped Chu Zihang’s heart like an invisible hand.

Lu Mingfei’s “giving up” wasn’t cowardice but stemmed from a deep-rooted denial of his own worth. He believed Bai Ci’s judgment because, deep down, he thought he only deserved “heavy” and “regretful” things, that he was the burden his aunt might kick out. Her rejection merely confirmed his darkest fears.

Chu Zihang took a deep breath, the cold cafeteria air, laced with alcohol and despair, filling his lungs. The vein on his forehead calmed, but his golden eyes burned brighter—not with anger, but with a near-tragic resolve. He set down his beer can, the metal clinking softly against the table.

He stood, towering over Lu Mingfei’s hunched form. Startled, Lu Mingfei looked up, his red eyes hollow as dead water.

“Lu Mingfei.” Chu Zihang’s voice was low and clear, each word a hammer striking the cold air.

Lu Mingfei stared blankly.

“Your past… it sounds tough,” Chu Zihang said, meeting his eyes, not shying from the pain but laying it bare between them. “No one should go through that. It’s not your fault.”

“You say no one’s got your back?” His voice rose slightly, sharp with a piercing intensity Lu Mingfei had never heard, forcing him to meet those burning golden eyes.

Chu Zihang spoke deliberately, each word a blade unsheathed, cutting through chains: “Then I’ve got your back!”

After a long pause, a hoarse, nasal whisper escaped Lu Mingfei, as if asking Chu Zihang—or himself: “Are you crazy…?”