Cen Zeng said, “You don't have to come find me. I'm very busy today.”

“But you're free right now, aren't you?”

They each got their food and sat down at a table.

Cheng Shuo had rarely eaten in the cafeteria. He ordered the chicken leg rice. It wasn't bad, but it was rather bland.

Beside him, Cen Zeng was methodically slurping a bowl of fish noodles.

“Are you this busy every day?” he asked.

“Midterms are coming up...” Cen Zeng replied. “It'll be better after this period.”

“Why don't you skip class and hang out with me?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew it was a bad idea.

Sure enough, Cen Zeng glanced at him. “I don't have the time or the money, sorry.”

“That's not what I meant...” he said, deflated. “I just feel like...”

“You feel that I'm different from your White Moonlight?” When Cen Zeng said this, Cheng Shuo was completely caught off guard and froze on the spot.

Cen Zeng had clearly misunderstood. “Then I'm sorry. If you think I'm not doing a good enough job, we can end this at any time.”

He rarely looked directly at him. They were sitting close, and only then did Cheng Shuo realize, the pupils of the person across from him were pure black. They looked like a starless night sky.

In that instant, Cheng Shuo suddenly wanted to reveal everything.

He subconsciously clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, which sobered him up a little.

“No,” he said. “You're doing great. I'm quite satisfied. I just want to get to know you a little better.”

“There's nothing to know about a substitute,” Cen Zeng replied. “You don't need to pay that much attention to me.”

“What if I just want to know you?” Cheng Shuo pressed on recklessly. “I want to know what you do every day, whether you're in a good mood, who you talk to, how your advisor is, and whether your courses are difficult.”

He seemed to have stunned Cen Zeng with his words. The person before him looked at him blankly, as if he didn't understand, or as if he didn't know what to think.

But soon, he stirred his soup with his spoon. “What on earth has gotten into you these past two days? Starting from yesterday, you haven't been normal.”

Cheng Shuo lowered his head and continued eating his chicken leg, pretending to be busy. “What's not normal about me?”

“You never used to care what I was doing, nor would you insist on eating with me, let alone follow me to the academic building.”

“You think I don't care about you?” Cheng Shuo asked.

As soon as he said it, he wanted to laugh in exasperation at himself. Indeed, of course, was there a problem with that? No problem at all.

“You really don't care that much,” Cen Zeng replied.

He was left speechless and choked, grabbing the complimentary soup from the cafeteria, and gulping it all down in one go, before he felt a little better.

“People can change,” he finally said. “I care now, is that not allowed?”

Cen Zeng pushed his own soup over, motioning for him to drink it.

“It's allowed,” he said. “It's just very unexpected.”

Cheng Shuo now felt that Cen Zeng was like a damn iceberg. Only the tip was showing, and no one knew what was going on underneath. He was incredibly difficult to deal with.

But this person really had no one looking out for him, so much so that he somehow traveled back in time without knowing why.

If even he gave up, then things would be truly messed up.

“So, is your advisor very demanding? You even had to deliver documents to him at night. I was playing games until three in the morning yesterday, and when I came out for water, I saw your room light was still on.”

“It's alright,” Cen Zeng replied.

“Alright my ass. I've heard people say that advisor of yours has an especially bad temper.”

Hearing this, Cen Zeng stopped eating his noodles for a moment, and looked up at him. “You're quite the investigator.”

Under this gaze, Cheng Shuo somehow felt a little guilty, as if he were being stared at by that mother of his who only called a few times a year and couldn't care less if he lived or died the rest of the time.

He forced a steady tone. “We live together, I should at least show some concern for my roommate, right?”

Cen Zeng didn't answer.

Cheng Shuo finished gnawing on his chicken leg, and changed the subject. “So, do you have any hobbies?”

“No.” Cen Zeng clearly didn't want to continue the conversation.

“Don't joke around. Visiting exhibitions, playing games, watching movies, reading, sports?”

Cen Zeng seemed annoyed by his questions and said, “Sometimes I run on campus.”

Cheng Shuo nodded. “Okay, then I can run with you when you have time? You've been studying for exams and doing research recently, it's so tiring. Getting some exercise would be perfect.”

Cen Zeng didn't even hide his surprise. He looked up and stared at him, making Cheng Shuo's skin crawl.

“So, is that a yes?” he asked.

Cen Zeng lowered his head, and continued eating the damn noodles he had barely touched. “You really are strange.”

“So what if I'm strange?” Cheng Shuo retorted. “Are you free tomorrow? We can go for a night run after dinner?”

He didn't suggest the morning, because he knew very well he would never be able to get up.

Cen Zeng's spoon came to rest on the rim of the bowl with a clink.

“Okay,” he said. “But don't come looking for me at the academic building anymore. It's quite a waste of time.”

Finally, the first step had been taken. Cheng Shuo breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Alright.”