Chapter 106 Extra High School Student Xie Yan

Chapter 106 Extra: High Schooler Xie Yan

Xie Yan encountered that peculiar boy at his senior year’s school festival. The sun shone brightly that day, and his boisterous roommate had coaxed him out to join the festivities. With nothing better to do in the dorm, Xie Yan decided to tag along for a stroll.

The festival was a cacophony of voices and excitement. His roommate quickly vanished into the crowd, leaving Xie Yan to wander alone. Before long, however, a tug on the back of his shirt was followed by a warm body pressing against his back.

"Who is it?" Xie Yan’s voice was tinged with annoyance and a cold, distant aloofness. A germaphobe, he detested such intimate contact with strangers, especially on a sweltering summer day.

"It’s Xiao Qiu."

The muffled voice from behind was soft and flirtatious, like a tiny hook snagging Xie Yan’s heart. He relaxed slightly—it was a guy, so at least he wouldn't be saddled with any unwanted responsibility. He reached back to dislodge the clingy figure, but his fingertips brushed against smooth, slender thighs—like delicate willow branches, with skin as soft as milk. It was then Xie Yan noticed the person carried a potent scent of roses.

"Who are you? I don’t know you. Get off."

His heart hammered uncontrollably. Xie Yan loathed this loss of control, so he scowled and forcefully pulled the person off his back.

As he turned, the boy stumbled into Xie Yan’s arms, trembling all over, and whispered cautiously, "A-Yan, I’m so scared. I suddenly ended up here, and this place is so strange. I don’t know where I am. A-Yan, take me away, take me back, okay?"

How did this person know his name? Was it a prank? A case of mistaken identity? Xie Yan pondered silently, then lowered his gaze to scrutinize the boy. His skin was pale, like melting winter snow, yet the fingertips clinging to Xie Yan were pink. Half of his neck was visible, dotted with red marks that made Xie Yan’s pupils contract sharply, his frantic heartbeat abruptly calming.

At eighteen, even if inexperienced, Xie Yan recognized the hickeys on the boy’s neck. Though it was none of his concern, he felt an inexplicable surge of irritation. He peeled the boy off him and said coldly, "Did you mistake me for someone else?"

Putting some distance between them, Xie Yan finally got a clear look at the boy. His bangs barely veiled misty, peach-blossom eyes. His nose was red from crying, and slender fingers wiped tears from his face as he gazed at Xie Yan with a mix of petulance and annoyance, as if blaming him for being heartless.

The boy appeared to be around his age but was clad in a pristine white maid dress. A narrow choker encircled his slender, pale neck. The dress was a strapless style, revealing delicate collarbones and a soft, fair waist—dazzlingly white and eye-catching. The skirt ended above his knees, showcasing a pair of long, pale legs—not skinny, but full and shapely. He wore no shoes, his bare feet pale with cute, pink toes.

After a quick appraisal, Xie Yan instinctively took a step back. Damn it, he was actually having a reaction to a guy in a dress.

"I didn’t mistake you. You’re my A-Yan, my husband," the boy explained earnestly, his eyes wide, revealing clean, pearly white teeth like precious seashells.

Xie Yan suddenly recalled those online scams where a beautiful woman approaches someone on the street, claims hunger, and asks for money. He scrutinized the boy critically and concluded that he’d likely end up paying for this person’s meal today. The boy was distractingly good-looking, and for some inexplicable reason, Xie Yan found it impossible to refuse his request.

"Did someone steal your wallet? Do you need money for food?" he offered seriously, giving the boy an out. But the boy looked up, puzzled, shaking his head vigorously. "No, A-Yan, don’t you remember me? I’m Xiao Qiu."

The boy’s voice was soft and slightly accusatory, as if spoiled by this "A-Yan" person, daring to act coy even with a stranger.

The thought of this "A-Yan" made Xie Yan inexplicably uncomfortable. After questioning him for a long time, he learned nothing beyond the boy’s name being Xiao Qiu. No address, no phone number.

The afternoon sun was still fierce. Seeing the boy covered in a thin sheen of sweat—even his perspiration carried a floral scent—and his cheeks flushed from the heat, Xie Yan led him to a noodle shop near the school.

He could tell the boy was sensitive to heat—his skin was delicate, he feared the sun, and his temperament was fragile, on the verge of tears at any moment. Now, sitting obediently and slurping noodles, he looked pleasing to the eye, even hiccuping adorably when he ate too fast.

"Are you sure you have nowhere else to go? You can’t remember where you live or how to contact your family?"

"I don’t know."

For some reason, Xie Yan felt a strange relief at this answer. He calculated that the money he earned from weekend jobs would be enough to rent a place. For meals, he could bring the boy to the school cafeteria. If no one claimed him after reporting to the police, he’d just take care of him for now.

After all, he was rather pleasant to have around.

"What’s with this outfit?" Xie Yan pointed at the maid dress, his brow furrowed. Did that "A-Yan" have such peculiar taste, making his boyfriend wear something like this?

"Ah, today over there, there was some cosplay club. They were really enthusiastic and pulled me in to try it on. I didn’t want to refuse since they were so nice."

So it was the school’s cosplay club, not some personal quirk.

The two went to a hotel near the school, using Xie Yan’s ID. As soon as he closed the door, the boy rushed over, wrapping his arms tightly around Xie Yan’s waist, rubbing against his chest like a small animal seeking comfort and strength. "A-Yan, I was so scared today. I’m glad I found you. What would I have done without you?"

"I miss the babies so much."

"I wonder what Xiao Yu and Huan Huan are doing. Do they know we’re here?"

"How do we get back?"

But he soon fell silent because Xie Yan gripped his chin firmly, glaring at him fiercely. "What babies? Are you married? Do you have children?"

The boy didn’t understand why this was such a big deal and nodded gently. "I married you, A-Yan. I even gave birth to two babies, Xiao Yu and Huan Huan. How could you forget? That’s so frustrating."

He looked at Xie Yan reproachfully, but Xie Yan felt as if his blood ran cold. He had thought that if this person truly had nowhere to go, he could take him in, work more jobs to support him. But the boy was already married and had children with someone else. His earlier decisions now seemed like a joke.

"Wait here. I’ll go back to get some clothes for you." Without waiting for a response, Xie Yan rushed out. He needed to cool off. Why did this strange boy suddenly appear and unsettle him so much? Why did he feel such a strong possessiveness toward him?

After calming down in the evening breeze on the sports field for half an hour, Xie Yan hurried back to the hotel. He knocked once, and the door opened immediately. The boy clung to him again, like a clingy cat, resting his head on Xie Yan’s shoulder and silently crying, whining impatiently.

"Why did you take so long?"

Xie Yan showed him how to use the shower and turned on the TV, trying to divert his attention from the transparent bathroom. About thirty minutes later, the pampered cat finished showering. Xie Yan’s clothes were too big on him, but his pale collarbones and the clear hickeys were still visible.

"I’m a little sleepy. Hold me while I sleep." The boy habitually came over to hug him, boldly sitting on his lap. This seemed like a long-ingrained habit—this person had lived intimately with that "A-Yan" for a long time. They kissed, slept together, embraced closely on countless nights. Thinking this, Xie Yan felt he should have left for school right after delivering the clothes.

It wasn’t too late to leave now. He moved the boy aside, picked up his backpack from the TV stand, and was about to go when the boy hugged him from behind, his sticky voice like a demon’s temptation. "A-Yan, where are you going? I’m scared. Don’t leave me alone."

Wet tears fell on Xie Yan’s back. He softened, unable to bear it, and ended up coaxing the boy to sleep while staying frustratingly hard until morning.

He took the boy to the police station to file a report, but they found no information about him. Xie Yan could only take him back and wait for updates.

The summer sun was always intense. Xie Yan didn't mind, but the boy’s face was already flushed red. Roaming outside longer would likely burn his sensitive skin. It seemed they needed to find a place.

Rent near the school was relatively cheap. After looking around, they settled on a single room with a balcony, kitchen, and bathroom. It came with air conditioning, a water heater, and a refrigerator. The lighting was good, and it was near a market. Since the weather was hot, Xie Yan wanted to leave the boy in the rental while he bought bedsheets and quilts, but the boy refused, following him step by step. Helpless, Xie Yan bought him an umbrella.

The boy was good-looking and liked to smile. Often, when Xie Yan shopped, he paid directly without bargaining, silently accepting if he was overcharged. But with the boy around, he would sweetly ask the shopkeeper, "Can you make it cheaper?"

Captivated by his good looks, the shopkeepers wouldn’t hassle them, often rounding down the price and saving them a few dozen dollars.

Xie Yan took him to a supermarket, buying ingredients for the weekend meals and four sets of clothes—two for sleeping and two for going out. The boy could have worn Xie Yan’s clothes, but Xie Yan couldn’t take it—seeing those collarbones made him want to bite them.

After all the running around, he realized the boy wasn't as spoiled as he seemed. He followed Xie Yan without a word of complaint, did exactly as told, and even tried to help carry things. When Xie Yan cooked, the boy insisted on helping or would watch eagerly if refused.

After a full meal, they did the dishes together before finally sitting down to relax. Xie Yan thought for a long time before speaking slowly, "As you can see, this is all I can afford. If you don't mind, you can stay here. If the police find your family, I'll let you know. What do you think?"

"But you are my A-Yan," the boy cocked his head, looking at him in confusion. Xie Yan didn't bother to correct him and continued, "I'm still a student. I can't be with you every day, only during meals. Can you accept that?"

"What about sleeping?"

"I have a dorm. I'll sleep there."

"Can you come sleep here?" The boy patted the mattress, blinking. "The bed is big. A-Yan can sleep with me."

Xie Yan shook his head. The boy relented, "Then I'll go sleep in the dorm with you."

He was determined and started gathering his things right away. "Are there rules in the dorm? Like no talking after bedtime? That's how it was at my old school."

Although having an extra person in the dorm might not be a big deal, Xie Yan privately didn't want others to see this boy. He said firmly, "There are many rules. No outsiders allowed. If caught, I could be expelled."

He was making it up to scare him, and it worked—the boy went pale, stopped packing, and sat there looking defeated for a long time, not hearing anything else Xie Yan said.

Before they knew it, it was ten o’clock. If he didn't leave now, he'd miss dorm curfew. Xie Yan stood up, picked up his backpack, and headed for the door.

But the boy was crying—a pitiful, whimpering cry with soft sobs and trembling shoulders. *Ignore him, don't get involved, just leave*, Xie Yan urged himself inwardly, yet he still halted, waiting until the clock passed the dormitory's curfew.

The boy huddled in the corner, hugging his bent legs, his face wet with glistening tears. He felt an overwhelming sense of injustice—suddenly thrust into this world, wandering anxiously all day, finally finding Xie Yan, only to be shooed away like a ghost.

"Alright, stop crying. I'm not leaving," Xie Yan crouched down, meeting those teary, red-rimmed eyes, and suddenly his voice softened.

*Damn, was this person sent by heaven just to torment him?*

[Author's Note]

It's been too long since I wrote in the third person; my skills are rusty.