The light from the screen brightened the surroundings a little.

In this faint light, Ethan Young stared at Henry Howard for a while, his fingers entwined with his moved slightly, and he called out, "Bro Henry."

Henry Howard turned his head to look at him.

Ethan Young shrank into his seat, wearing a black shirt, his whole figure shrouded in darkness, but his eyes were still bright, focused on him: "Last time you asked me what you were like."

On the big screen, the images kept switching.

Distracted by the movie's sound effects, it took Henry Howard a moment to recall which "last time" this sudden question was referring to.

"Now I'm not someone else," Ethan Young said, paused, and added, "I'll answer that question again. Just this once, if you can't hear it, too bad."

Henry Howard instinctively held his breath.

Then he heard Ethan Young say, "The way I like."

------------

76. Chapter Seventy-Six

Ethan Young had never said anything so clingy in his life. Even though his tone was still a bit cold, leaning against the back of the chair, after he finished, he just silently looked at him. His other hand was next to the iced Coke he bought at the door earlier, still frosty.

You are Henry Howard.

Just the way you are. It has nothing to do with anything else.

"" Henry Howard slowly tightened his grip on his hand, doubting whether he was hearing things, coaxing, "Say it again?"

Ethan Young: "I advise you not to push your luck."

Henry Howard was dressed quite simply today, just a plain set of clothes, not even wearing his usual flashy earrings.

Even so, he was still eye-catching.

The lighting in the cinema was poor, especially in the back rows where it was even darker. People around couldn't help but turn their heads to look at them, whispering since the moment they entered one after the other.

Even after getting on the bus back, Ethan Young still had no idea what the movie was about, because Henry Howard, taking advantage of the flickering light from the screen, leaned over the armrest between them and stole all his breath away.

The movement was sudden and urgent, almost like a collision.

He didn't care at all about kissing him in public, whether anyone would see.

The sounds around his ears grew more and more distant.

Apart from the movie's sound effects and the noisy chatter, all that was left was Henry Howard's suppressed, self-muttering two words: "It's killing me."

The movie was almost at the end, and on the screen, the male and female leads finally overcame all obstacles and embraced each other.

Ethan Young leaned back, putting some distance between them, his voice a little hoarse: "Are you going back to school later?"

Henry Howard glanced down at his crotch, made sure his sweater covered it so it wasn't too obvious, then said, "I'm going home, the school gate locks at four thirty, I won't make it."

No. 2 High was always strict, especially on weekends, to prevent boarders from staying out too long and getting into trouble. The school gate closed promptly at four thirty.

Ethan Young didn't know what he was looking at, so he followed his gaze, his eyes landing on a certain spot, pausing for two seconds.

"Hard?"

"If I'm not hard, I'm not a man," Henry Howard tugged his sweater down and said, "Don't look at me, let me calm down."

Buses came frequently in Century City, about every ten minutes. Not long after they got on, before the bus had even left Century City's main road, Ms. Miller, who had been waiting a long time, couldn't wait any longer and called: "Didn't you say you'd be back soon? Do you even plan to eat dinner at home?"

"I'm on the bus."

"All you do on weekends is go out and play, hanging out with classmates. Which classmate? When will you settle down and study properly? How much longer till you get here?"

Ethan Young selectively ignored half of it and replied to the other half: "About half an hour."

After Ms. Miller finished reminding him to be safe, she continued to nag, and Ethan Young quietly listened for a while.

The feeling of "secretly going on a date with my boyfriend" grew stronger and stronger in his heart. He hadn't thought much of it at first—just the usual dinner and a movie—but now it felt like he'd done something huge.

After Ms. Miller hung up, Ethan Young looked down, wanting to open his music player to kill some time with a couple of songs, and immediately saw 99 unread messages on a certain social app on his phone's home screen.

Clicking in, he found the class group chat was unusually lively, even Old Thompson and William Warren, who usually ignored the group, had been drawn out.

[Logan Wright]: Consecutive interior angles are supplementary, the two lines are parallel. Class rep, can we talk? I'm really curious, what did you post on your feed?

[Wanda]: I want to know too, it's truly amazing, maybe I just know too little about this world.

[Luke Carter]: What is it, what are you guys talking about, let me check.

Luke Carter disappeared for a few minutes and came back in all caps.

[Luke Carter]:

[Luke Carter]: Holy crap! What the hell!!!

Old Thompson checked the messages late, so by the time he came online, the important stuff had already been buried. He calmly sent a question mark.

[Mr. Thompson]: ?

[Mr. William Warren]: What is all this.

[Wanda]: Teacher, come, take a look with us. [/image]

[Logan Wright]: The class rep is not even human.

The picture was a screenshot of Xavier Stone's QQ Space.

Xavier Stone's feed had no cute pet photos, nor any of the currently popular meme collections, just reposts of the most comprehensive high school math summaries, the most beautiful chemistry experiments, and ten ways to improve study efficiency.

In the screenshot, Xavier Stone passionately described his connection with Quiz Masters Clash, thanked the organizers for holding this offline meetup, and then spent a long paragraph describing his wonderful day.

—During summer vacation, walking down the street, a flyer accidentally opened the door to my studies. Everyone here loves learning so much, I could feel my heart pounding.

The "Top Ten in the Grade" students sharing their study methods benefited me greatly, and I also need to learn to piece together my fragmented time. The documentary "The Birth of Einstein" was really wonderful, by the end everyone was in tears. The soul never dies, learning never ends.

The only regret was not seeing the showdown between x-god and the "Quiz King".

A long string of text, followed by a picture.

It was a group photo, more than a dozen people, each holding a book and smiling at the camera.

Ethan Young: ""

Xavier Stone probably didn't check his phone much while studying, so he only popped up after the heated discussion had died down.

[Consecutive interior angles are supplementary, the two lines are parallel]: ?

[Consecutive interior angles are supplementary, the two lines are parallel]: It's a study game, very interesting.

Seeing the words "study game," Ethan Young remembered that, in these people's eyes, the duel between x-god and the "Quiz King" still hadn't been settled.

After hesitating for a while, he tapped the Knowledge Orb icon.

Unexpectedly, the Quiz Masters Clash game discussion area was peaceful. Everyone even seemed quite happy, a kind of happiness Ethan Young had only seen in the comments section during summer vacation when he beat the "Quiz King" at practice questions.

"Study, study, my life is only about": I told you, x-god is definitely awesome!

"Top Ten in the Grade": I really want to see the study god solve problems in person.

"985211": I didn't expect this result, really didn't expect it

Ethan Young faintly sensed something was off.

Until he opened his friends list and saw that Henry Howard had changed his status from "Victory belongs to me" to: Admitting defeat, x-god spared me.

The bus reached an intersection and stopped at a red light.

Ethan Young leaned against the window, couldn't help it, and laughed, cursing, "Idiot."

The No. 2 High School anniversary performance is next month.

It sounds like there's plenty of time, but after the initial excitement about participating wore off, everyone slacked off on dance practice. Even Logan Wright, who never missed a chance to dance while doing chores, lost his enthusiasm.

Early in the morning, as soon as Ethan Young entered the classroom, he was met by the arts committee member, clearly wanting to say something. Ethan Young stood at the door and looked at her: "What's up?"

Emily Shaw still hesitated to speak.

"She wants to ask you," Henry Howard had arrived early, sitting at his desk with his legs crossed, "whether you practiced the dance at home over the weekend. No need to ask, obviously you didn't."

Not only did he not practice, Ethan Young didn't even remember it: "What dance?"

Emily Shaw asked around and was completely hopeless: "What happened to the invincible handsome boy group we promised, the stunning performance we promised, the dream we promised."