Henry Howard said again, "Seriously, have you ever met anyone more handsome than me? Out of all the people in the world, you get to know someone like me."

Ethan Young said, "You're really getting into it."

Henry Howard: "Even the pen fairy says no."

Ethan Young remembered that evening self-study when they played pen fairy, and suddenly felt like laughing.

"There is, who says there isn't," Ethan Young decided to joke, looked at him, then raised his hand and pointed at himself, "Me, your grandpa."

Henry Howard: "Grandpa?"

Ethan Young replied casually, "Hey, grandson."

"You little shit, taking advantage of me, huh, kid?"

Suddenly his seniority dropped by two generations. Henry Howard laughed as he grabbed Ethan Young's collar, pretending to be fierce, but didn't control his strength, and didn't expect Ethan Young to just lie there and let him do it without fighting back.

He accidentally pulled too hard, and the collar was yanked wide open.

Ethan Young's skin was already fair, and after running and being in the sun, it looked slightly flushed, that blush showing through from underneath. The boy's body was lean, so good-looking it was almost seductive.

"So who's taking advantage of whom?" Ethan Young patted Henry Howard's hand. "Let go."

Henry Howard let go, sat there in a daze for a while, then simply lay back down and awkwardly squeezed out, "You—you've got a nice body."

Ethan Young replied smoothly, "Thanks, you too."

The mess in his head suddenly stopped, and Henry Howard almost forgot what he was even bothered about just now.

But Henry Howard still felt hot, from his throat all the way down to his chest, making it hard to breathe—a kind of heat he couldn't describe.

Almost feverish.

Henry Howard didn't even know what he was thinking, his mind went blank, and he couldn't help but sneak a glance at his own crotch.

Ethan Young had no idea Henry Howard's thoughts had taken so many turns and run so far away. He lay there looking at the sky for a while, then closed his eyes when he got tired.

It was very quiet around them, and he could hear Henry Howard's breathing.

And the other person's heartbeat, still pounding fast and not slowing down.

After a while, Ethan Young asked with his eyes closed, "Heart rate too fast, tired?"

Henry Howard wiped his face, not sure what to say: "Ah, yeah, running was exhausting."

Logan Wright had run about ten laps, and collapsed on the ground when he finished, half a field away from them.

After resting, he went to the snack shop to buy water, and brought two bottles for his two classmates who had run themselves crazy. He crossed the field, walked over to Ethan Young and Henry Howard, squatted down, and handed over the water: "Wow, you two, fifteen laps? You really ran fifteen laps?"

The ice water was still cold.

Ethan Young: "Thanks."

Henry Howard sat up, took the water, twisted off the cap, and gulped down more than half the bottle: "Impressive, right? Scared? We said fifteen laps, and we did fifteen laps."

"Awesome, awesome," Logan Wright stated his purpose, "So, for the autumn sports meet, you two should run the long-distance race."

The topic changed too fast, and Henry Howard was too busy showing off to react: "Huh?"

It was the first time anyone had invited Ethan Young to a group activity. He didn't mind running long-distance, but the class sports rep from Class 3 was just too enthusiastic. The sports meet was still at least half a month away, and there wasn't even an official notice yet.

But Logan Wright just shook his head and said, "Sigh, life passes in the blink of an eye."

Ethan Young: ""

Henry Howard: "" Bro, your philosophical level is a bit high.

After chatting for a while, they got up and went back to the classroom.

Walking down the corridor, they found every class was in chaos, the quiet facade couldn't hold, and it was getting rowdy.

"So noisy," passing by Class 8, Sean Parker and the others were actually still singing karaoke. Henry Howard plugged one ear with his finger, not wanting to be tortured, and said, "Why is it only our class that's dead silent with the curtains drawn so tight? So quiet, not like our usual style at all."

As Henry Howard spoke, he pushed open the back door of Class 3.

A movie was playing on the big screen, halfway through.

Luke Carter, as class monitor, dutifully moved a chair to sit by the podium, and whenever there was a sound at the door, he would quickly close the movie with the mouse.

"Scared me," seeing it was them, Luke Carter brought the movie back up, "I thought it was someone else. Come on, let's keep watching. If you want to place a bet, go to Wanda to add your stake, once you bet, no take-backs."

The curtains were drawn tight, all the lights were off, and they really managed to create a mini-theater vibe.

Ethan Young didn't get it: "What are you guys doing?"

"Guess who the killer is," Wanda introduced, "It's a suspense film, fifty cents a bet, want to try, sir?"

"No, no, that's not fair to me and Old Young, we don't even know what happened earlier," Henry Howard said, then praised, "But you guys have real business sense, I have to admit that."

This grade-wide party lasted less than half an hour before Manager Jensen personally broke it up: "Well, I just went to grade some papers, and you guys are trying to turn the place upside down, huh?"

The mad dog cursed all the way from Class 8: "Class 8 turned their classroom into a KTV, your class is a movie theater, all of you have such creative ideas. Do you even know how you did on this exam, and you're still so happy, so cheerful?!"

Henry Howard leaned over to Ethan Young's ear and said, "We're dead anyway, might as well die happy."

Manager Jensen pointed to the back row: "What are you two whispering about, fifteen laps wasn't enough for you?"

Henry Howard was about to say "Nothing," but his good desk mate stabbed him in the back—Ethan Young repeated what Henry Howard had just said.

The whole class burst out laughing.

"You want to die so badly? I'll grant your wish," Manager Jensen was furious, "Henry Howard, get out, stand in the hallway."

""

Henry Howard was used to it, and his way of leaving was quite practiced.

Manager Jensen seemed to have a few more essays left to lecture about, called Henry Howard out to wait for punishment, and kept talking in Class 3. Henry Howard got tired of standing, so he quietly took a few steps back, leaned against the back door frame, and chatted with Ethan Young: "Kid, that was really disloyal of you."

Ethan Young shot back, "You're really annoying."

"As for boarders being late, we've already found a way to deal with you." Manager Jensen went from class discipline to boarding students being late, "All of you who live in the dorms, starting tomorrow morning, you'll feel the power of waking up."

The power of waking up.

Damn, what he really felt was the urge to kill.

The next morning, the dormitory broadcast was deafening, and the song "Devotion to Serve the Country" blasted in everyone's ears.

"Smoke rises, looking north to the homeland, the dragon stirs, the horse neighs~"

"I am willing to defend the land and reclaim the borders, a dignified China must make the world yield~"

Heroic and passionate, grand and full of lofty ambition, enough to stir the soul of every good son of the motherland! A sense of mission arises, the passion for study boils over!

At six in the morning, everyone in the dorm was indeed boiling over.

They crawled out of bed, too rushed to even put on slippers, opened the door and, in unison, cursed, "Fuck!"

"What's going on, what the hell, six o'clock, can't we sleep?"

"Who the hell is playing music?!"

Henry Howard pulled the blanket over his head, planning to wait out the song.

In the end, the broadcast was so loud it gave him a headache, and with all the cursing outside, he couldn't take it anymore. He propped himself up and sat up: "What the hell is this."

After a night's sleep, the aftereffects of running fifteen laps all came back, especially his ankle, which had been injured not long ago and was struggling with the intense running.

Henry Howard scratched his head, got out of bed, shuffled to the door in his slippers, opened the dorm door, and shouted a few times too: "This is wild, huh, 'Devotion to Serve the Country', not bad."

Henry Howard's voice wasn't loud, but it was distinctive, always with a slightly rising tone and a hint of casual teasing.

Someone saw him and stopped complaining: "Morning, Bro Henry."

Henry Howard didn't say anything, yawned, raised his hand in greeting, then wandered over to the door across the hall. Out of a sense of shared suffering, he knocked and called for Ethan Young: "Old Young, get up, how can you still be sleeping through this?"

Henry Howard's hair was messy, his clothes unkempt. He knocked for a while with no response, and just as 'Devotion to Serve the Country' stopped, he was about to go back to bed for a nap when the door in front of him creaked open.

"Are you fucking done yet?" Ethan Young took out his earplugs, leaned against the door and looked at him, "If you've got something to say, spit it out."

Not caring whether Ethan Young welcomed him or not, Henry Howard slipped right past him into the room: "Came to get you for breakfast."

Ethan Young didn't close the door, just stood there watching him, his eyes clearly saying, 'Get out.'

Henry Howard pretended not to notice.