In the dorm, the long table had turned into a reading table.
Everyone held a booklet. After a moment of silence, someone spoke first.
“Switch roles,” Yun Ci said, “I won’t act.”
“….”
Peng Yiyuan was alarmed: “No, bro, you are my last hope. I can’t lose any of you.”
Yun Ci: “You still have real hope.”
“?”
Yun Ci put down the booklet and said, “Next semester’s retake.”
Hearing this, Yu Xun, while reading his booklet, propped his chin with one hand and chuckled.
But Peng Yiyuan couldn’t laugh: “…You always manage to say such harsh truths that can’t be refuted.”
“What role did you get?” He glanced over, “Oh—Princess.”
Peng Yiyuan immediately understood why he didn’t want to act: “Actually, I think artistic performance doesn’t adhere to gender. Don’t you want to challenge yourself?”
Yun Ci followed the excuse Peng Yiyuan gave him: “No, I don’t.”
Peng Yiyuan hesitated for a while, planning to give up.
At this moment, a savior-like voice sounded in his ear: “I’ll switch with him.”
Yu Xun, propping his chin, said nonchalantly: “I’ll play the princess.”
Peng Yiyuan was overjoyed: “You’re willing to play the princess?!”
Yu Xun: “Art doesn’t adhere to gender. I think you have a point. I’m very interested in the princess role.”
Honestly, Yu Xun’s appearance always reminded people of some long-haired character. Though it wasn’t associated with female roles, if anyone had to fit the “male princess” image, Yu Xun might indeed be more suitable.
Peng Yiyuan asked happily: “So what role did you get? You two switch.”
Yu Xun opened his booklet and showed everyone the word on the page: “Prince.”
Yun Ci: “…”
Li Yan and Liu Zi exploded: “Damn.”
But shouldn’t these two refuse to act together?
Why are they switching roles here?
After the explosion, Liu Zi said: “I get it.”
Li Yan: I still don’t get it? What do you get?
Li Yan: “What do you get?”
Liu Zi: “Count how many lines the princess has in the script and how many the prince has. Obviously, the princess has more. Of course, our Yu-ge wants to be the absolute protagonist and never a supporting role.”
Li Yan: “…”
Though it was ridiculous, he was somewhat convinced.
Li Yan even wanted to say, “Uncle, shouldn’t we insist on the princess role? After all, it’s the absolute protagonist. How can we give it up so easily?”
But when he turned and saw Yun Ci’s expression, he swallowed his words.
Yun Ci looked very upset, wanting to ask: With these two counting the number of lines for each role, does no one care about the relationship between these two characters?
“…”
But it was obvious that from the faces of Liu Zi and Li Yan, he couldn’t see any concern.
Li Yan did mention, “That true love’s kiss, we don’t actually have to perform it, right?”
Liu Zi: “Of course not. Two grown men kissing? If it weren’t for the most lines, who would want to play the princess?”
Li Yan couldn’t help but speak on Yun Ci’s behalf: “If it weren’t for also having a lot of lines and being a handsome male character, who would act alongside you guys!”
Saying this, Li Yan asked Liu Zi, “What role did you get?”
Liu Zi: “The princess’s sword-bearing guard. I am to assassinate your prince. What role did you get?”
Li Yan flipped through his booklet: “The prince’s stepmother, responsible for giving the princess the poisoned mushroom.”
“…”
Liu Zi clicked his tongue: “What kind of elementary school script is this? Can this role design really pass the exam?”
Peng Yiyuan indicated that this is how we slackers do homework: “This is called dramatic conflict. The story must be full of struggle as it develops. Our textbooks teach this. He can’t possibly fail me.”
“…”
Yun Ci then realized that, aside from him, no one else cared.
The others were mostly watching for fun, making jokes, and not taking the line “The prince awakens the princess with a true love’s kiss” seriously.
This was just a simple script Peng Yiyuan wrote on a whim, and between him and Yu Xun, to outsiders, even if they drew these relationship cards, no one would think of anything beyond “enemies.”
…
So what was he thinking?
Yun Ci tucked his hands into his sleeves.
He thought to himself that he had been in a strange state recently, too abnormal, very unlike himself.
Peng Yiyuan was still trying to convince him: “No problem now, right? You’re the prince, the most handsome man in the entire play, and like the princess, you’re also a crucial character. Lines… I can give you more lines! Equal to the princess’s!”
Yun Ci couldn’t find a reason to refuse. Refusing again would make it seem like he was overly concerned about things he shouldn’t be.
He grabbed the booklet in front of Yu Xun, with a sort of “if I’m already collapsing, might as well let the world collapse with me” attitude, and said calmly: “I’ll act. Let’s see who can out-act who.”
With the roles assigned, today’s task was complete.
Before they dispersed, Peng Yiyuan casually asked, “Has anyone ever acted before?”
Li Yan asked with a complicated expression: “Do small programs in literary performances count?”
After he said this.
Everyone suddenly became quiet, as if collectively recalling some unwilling memories.
“If it counts, then yes,” Li Yan pointed at Yun Ci and Yu Xun, “These two.”
Peng Yiyuan’s right eyelid twitched: “Could it be what I’m thinking?”
It was what he was thinking.
Yun Ci remembered too.
In the first year of high school, there was a literary performance. Class One and Class Seven each put on a show: “Class Seven performed ‘The Phantom of the Opera,’ and I heard Yu Xun played the male lead, wearing a mask and a black cape. We can’t let Class Seven steal the spotlight.”
The people in Class One gathered to think: “Shall we perform too? What role can our class president play to outshine the masked and caped guy from Class Seven?”
Normally, Yun Ci would have refused.
But at that time, his competitive spirit got him involved in the discussion. After school, a group of Class One students stayed in the classroom for a meeting, with him sitting in the middle: “Any ideas?”
Someone suggested: “How about a live-action anime character?”
“Our costumes will be cooler than a cape, we can even dye our hair silver, add some special effects, it’ll be absolutely stunning.”
So, in that year’s West High literary performance, two classic characters emerged: a handsome masked and caped guy, and a silver-haired youth—still mentioned in the school’s forum every time there’s a literary performance.
It’s been a long time.
Yun Ci almost forgot what he felt when he was on stage, naive and dramatic. His silver hair was illuminated brightly by the auditorium lights, and Yan Yue’s face was livid.
His only rival, Yu Xun, sat in the back row of Class Seven.
In his memory, the host finally announced the awards on the spot: “Excellence Award, Class Seven’s ‘The Phantom of the Opera,’ Victory Award, Class One’s ‘Cosplay.'”
The students from Class One and Class Seven argued after hearing the results:
“Which is first place, Excellence or Victory? Teacher?”
“Victory, ‘victory’ means winning.”
“Excellence means outstanding, don’t you understand?”
“…”
Times have changed.
Holding the script, he and Yu Xun were to act in the same play.
*
Thus, Peng Yiyuan’s activity was interspersed with the busy final weeks.
Liu Zi, a man of his word, came to Room 608 every evening on time after being paid.
Luo Sifang and the others drew minor roles. They could do their own thing while saying a few lines, basically considered external staff.
Peng Yiyuan’s final assignment was mainly submitted as a video to the professional course teacher. For this, he borrowed a camera and set it up at the entrance of the auditorium stage to record the effect.
This distance framed the entire stage in the lens.
The reddish wooden floor, simple yet somewhat messy setup, and in the lens, the sword-bearing guard Liu Zi held a sword and put one foot on a chair: “I am the bravest swordsman in the empire. Tonight, I will assassinate the prince. My sword will cut off his right arm.”
Li Yan laughed: “I am the most wicked stepmother. The princess will die by my hand today. The poisoned mushroom is hidden in her soup.”
A group of people on stage performed their roles. All their costumes and props were borrowed from other clubs.
Yun Ci, expressionless, needed to wear a hat symbolically to distinguish his character. So, he put on a top hat in front of the stage mirror.
While he was putting it on.
Suddenly, another person appeared in the mirror. Yu Xun reached out and lightly adjusted the hat on his head.
The person himself—Yun Ci, looking into the mirror—saw that the person beside him was actually wearing a wig. Black long hair, looking just like real hair, although it didn’t add much femininity, it made his eyebrows and eyes even more beautiful.
He raised an eyebrow, the mole at the corner of his eye particularly noticeable under the light: “What, do I look good like this?”
“…” Yun Ci looked away, “I didn’t say you look good.”
Yu Xun pondered: “If you think it looks good, I’ll buy one too.”
Yun Ci: “…I said no.”
However, facing the long-haired Yu Xun that day, his lines became even stiffer. When it came to his part, he said to the “princess”: “It’s very late, I’ll take you home.”
In this line, he and Yu Xun had to tussle over whether to “go back or not” for a while.
Before Yu Xun could speak, Yun Ci added: “Go back and drink more soup.”
“……”
Peng Yiyuan: “Bro, isn’t that a bit off?”
Yun Ci: “Just showing some concern, nothing wrong with that, this line can be added.” Anyway, it’s better to die quickly.
Peng Yiyuan: “……”
In the camera frame, this group of boys initially recited their lines, but halfway through the shooting, they gradually started moving in another direction, getting into an argument.
Li Yan: “Peng Shao, who do you think is acting better, the princess or the prince?”
Liu Zi: “Although it goes without saying, I know it’s our Yu-ge.”
Liu Zi: “A boy playing the princess, handling this scale, understanding this character—”
Li Yan: “What are you talking about, do you think playing the prince is any easier?”
Peng Yiyuan, flustered: “……I think each has their own difficulties, both are excellent, both are not easy, hey, you guys stop fighting!”
Peng Yiyuan tried to mediate for a long time, but found he couldn’t balance this water.
The stage was a mess, the camera was still running, and the recording time was ticking up second by second.
Yu Xun, however, stepped aside, sitting in the front row of the audience seats below the stage, watching the commotion with a laugh.
Yun Ci, standing close to the seats, casually said: “What are you laughing at.”
Yu Xun: “Nothing, just finding it interesting and feeling happy for Peng Shao.”
“?”
“This project has turned out so badly,” Yun Ci pursed his lips, “What’s there to be happy about?”
The other side was in chaos, making him and Yu Xun seem relatively quiet.
Yu Xun retorted: “Is passing so important?”
Yun Ci didn’t think: “Of course.”
The best grades represent the most correct path. This has always been his and Yan Yue’s consensus.
Yu Xun tilted his head, thought for a moment, and then, still with that teasing tone, said: “At the beginning of the school year, Peng Shao said he chose this major with his feet, his family doesn’t care what he studies, and he himself doesn’t care, finding it meaningless.”
At the beginning of the school year, during a few dormitory night chats, everyone indeed mentioned each other’s family matters.
“But,” Yu Xun said, looking at the chaotic scene on the stage, “……it always feels like, right now, this moment is the meaning itself.”
“So still, quite happy.”
Yun Ci didn’t speak; he was stunned for a moment, then Peng Yiyuan turned to them, busily preparing for the next segment, interrupting their conversation: “We can wrap it up; it’s the last scene.”
The last scene.
Yun Ci flipped the booklet to the last page:
The prince finally found the poisoned princess; he kissed her, and finally the princess woke up from her slumber.
“……”
Yun Ci wanted to tear up the script and shove it into Peng Yiyuan’s mouth for him to swallow.
Actually, there was a “coffin” prepared in the middle of the stage, Yu Xun would lie in it and just go through the motions; the camera wouldn’t zoom in, and no one would deliberately come closer to watch.
No one cared about this last scene. At most, Li Yan couldn’t bear to watch, and Liu Zi stood by, ready to intervene; in case a fight broke out, he would rush over first.
The last scene.
The lighting on the stage was a bit dim, and the “princess” lay in the prepared coffin, eyes closed.
Yu Xun was still wearing his own clothes. They didn’t change into those flashy stage costumes. The boy’s ‘long hair’ was scattered at his sides; the collar of his sweater was loose, and because he was too tall, he almost couldn’t fit into the coffin.
Yun Ci, with his back to the others, after mentally preparing himself, leaned down.
The distance between the two shortened, getting closer and closer.
Finally stopping at an arm’s length.
……
Actually, this distance was still some way from a real “kiss,” but Yun Ci already felt it was too close, he realized he was overly sensitive, even vaguely feeling their breaths intertwining.
Yun Ci’s Adam’s apple couldn’t help but bob.
Uncontrollably, his gaze fell on Yu Xun’s lips.
Seemed. Quite kissable.
……
Damn.
Realizing what he was thinking, his mind blanked for a moment, as if struck by something, then very slowly started working again.
At the same moment, the words Yu Xun once said echoed in his ear:
——Can someone have the urge to kiss another person because of an illusion.
Yun Ci could no longer find any excuses, to disguise countless moments of heartbeats as illusions.
His heart beating faster was not because of magic, nor because of the snow.
Being unable to resist reporting back was not an accident.
Doing a sixteen-minute video call, going to give an umbrella, all because he liked him.
He liked Yu Xun.
Sjdjjxjsjsnx he finally came to the right realization