The last time Cheng Shuo stayed in a standard double room with someone was when Zhang Yijie dragged him out of Cen Zeng's house.

With Cen Zeng by his side, in the interplay of light and shadow, there was a strange, dull ache.

"What are you thinking about?" Cheng Shuo asked him.

"I felt a bit nauseous just now, but I'm fine now," Cen Zeng replied.

"Are you feeling unwell? Should I buy you some medicine?"

Cen Zeng just smiled and said softly, "It's nothing. Actually, it should just be the somatization of depression."

Cheng Shuo had never heard of that term, so he asked innocently in front of the top student of Clinical Medicine, "What is... somatization of depression?"

"You should know what Depression is." Cen Zeng didn't just throw out medical terms. He thought for a moment and said, "Depression is different from being down, you know that, right?"

He knew a little. Cheng Shuo nodded and said, "Yeah."

"Depression means there are pathological changes in the brain." Cen Zeng thought for a moment. "My brain is sick. It can't function properly, especially—" It was as if he swallowed back some words and names of organs he was certain Cheng Shuo had never heard of.

"Anyway, there's something wrong with my brain. I can't process emotions normally, and I can't feel happy about things that should make me happy," he said.

"It's okay," Cheng Shuo replied. "There's something wrong with my brain too."

Cen Zeng smiled.

"If I were to give a very irresponsible popular science explanation, the brain is responsible for transmitting sensations; it's a nerve center. After the pathological changes, the painful emotions produced by the brain are more likely to cause my body to react.

For example, when someone is extremely shocked, they might temporarily go deaf. When someone is exceptionally sad, they might find it hard to breathe.

When someone is exceptionally desperate, they might want to dry heave. Of course, this also happens when they're nervous.

Patients with depression and anxiety are very prone to somatization. When their psychological pain is great enough, the body will show related symptoms."

Right. Thanks to Cen Zeng, he had basically experienced it all.

And the originator of it all spoke so calmly and composedly.

Cheng Shuo looked at him and said, "Are you waiting for me to ask if you're anxious, nervous, or desperate?"

He could somehow discern his thoughts from the flutter of Cen Zeng's eyelashes.

He guessed right.

"That's not important," Cheng Shuo said. "I want to know what to do when you feel nauseous. It sounds like taking medicine is useless. Is there anything that can make you feel less nauseous? Or you could just go throw up."

Cen Zeng thought for a moment and said, "Neither is necessary, I think. I'll be fine if I just sit for a while."

"Did you do this before when you felt nauseous?"

"I was very busy before," Cen Zeng said. "If I felt nauseous, I just wouldn't eat."

He said it so nonchalantly that Cheng Shuo was rendered senseless.

"Oh..." he finally said. "Then tell me next time, and you can just sit down. Are there other times when you feel unwell or don't want to talk?"

"At one point, I thought there was a problem with my internal circulation," Cen Zeng answered. "I even thought I had hypothyroidism, but I went for a checkup, and all my hormone levels were normal. It could only be Depression."

"Did you get it diagnosed?"

Cen Zeng thought for a moment and said that if he went, it would be hard to hide it from his advisor and the senior students.

"Besides, I don't want to take SSRI medication. I don't like it. And I don't want to take other adrenaline-type ones either."

"These things take effect slowly, but the side effects always appear quickly and erratically. Oh, anyway, just all sorts of antidepressants, they're pointless. I can't possibly go for mect, oh, you can think of it as modern-day electrotherapy."

"And if the side effects decide not to spare me, and I throw up in front of my advisor..." He thought for a moment. "I'd feel as disgusting as him."

"So you just tough it out?"

Cen Zeng blinked, smiled, and said, "In my third year of high school, I took sleeping pills. My mom's. After that... there was no 'after'."

He spoke very softly.

Then he suddenly stood up.

Cheng Shuo subconsciously thought he was going to the restroom, but the person opposite him undid the first button of his shirt.

He was stunned for a moment, looking at Cen Zeng in astonishment.

The person said nothing, continuing to unbutton his shirt impassively. He looked very good in a shirt; it accentuated the clean, handsome lines of his shoulders and neck. Then, his pale chest was revealed, along with abs that were visible only because he was overly thin.

Cheng Shuo swallowed, averted his gaze, and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Do you want to?" Cen Zeng asked.

Cheng Shuo felt like there might be something wrong with his ears.

However, the person leaned in closer, his slender fingers resting on the side of Cheng Shuo's face, tracing his contours all the way down to his chin. Then he moved in and gave him a baffling kiss.

Cen Zeng's lips were chapped. That was his first reaction.

Why is his tongue coming in? That was his second reaction.

Before he could finally push the person away, this madman had already wrapped both arms around his shoulders, his eyelashes blinking and brushing against Cheng Shuo's cheek, making it itch.

Just as he was about to be forced into a deep kiss, he finally pushed Cen Zeng away amidst the thunderous sound of his own heartbeat.

Having just been kissed, the other person's lips were crimson, like a rose in full bloom, about to wither.

"Are you insane?" Cheng Shuo panted, wiping his lips.

Cen Zeng just looked at him and said, "Don't you want to?"

How on earth is Cen Zeng's brain wired?

What did he think he brought him out here for?

"I don't," Cheng Shuo said. "We didn't come out to have fun for this."

"I know," Cen Zeng replied, "but—"

"But my ass," Cheng Shuo stared at him, feeling like his brain was about to explode.

He couldn't think about why he was flushing, nor could he ponder why his heart was racing.

"Put your pajamas on."

He was scared, so he simply turned around and stopped looking at him.

"You can turn back. I'm dressed."

"What on earth were you 'but'-ing about?" Cheng Shuo asked.

"I was just thinking, it seems you're at a bit of a disadvantage." Cen Zeng thought for a moment. "You haven't gotten anything from me. And now it seems you can't use me as a substitute for your White Moonlight anymore."

Cheng Shuo silently recited three times: Cen Zeng is suicidal, Cen Zeng is a madman, Cen Zeng has Depression.

He still felt like he was finally facing divine retribution for not listening to Zhang Yijie and letting go of Xing Ji.

Finally, he couldn't bear it anymore. "Stop mentioning the White Moonlight. I've moved on, alright?"

"Is that so." Cen Zeng walked into the bathroom, nonchalantly leaving behind a sentence, "That's quite a pity."

What the hell? A pity about what?

'You don't actually want to do it, do you?'

Cheng Shuo turned his head back amidst the sound of his heartbeat and accidentally bumped into the shirt Cen Zeng had draped over the desk.

Then he rapidly twisted his head a full one-eighty, feeling as if he had just seen a ghost.

No ghost appeared, but he kicked the corner of the bed and finally let out an uncontrollable roar of frustration.

The room was very quiet. No echo came from the bathroom.