The White Moonlight of Three Male Leads - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Feng Chengling

Song Yuyan suddenly jumped out of bed.

He lived in a four-person dorm with upper bunks and desks below. His sudden movement caused him to accidentally hit his head.

Though there was no bruise on his temple, the feeling of a mild concussion left him disoriented for quite a while.

“You okay?” Li Min, the second oldest in the dorm, asked. The others also put down their phones, all showing concern.

Understandable—just now, they’d heard a loud thump, the kind of sound that made everyone instinctively wince, imagining their own heads smashing against a wall.

Song Yuyan grimaced and forced a normal expression. “I’m fine now.”

Just a moment ago, he’d wanted to die.

Seeing that he was indeed okay and that there was no bl00d on his forehead, the others finally relaxed, and the teasing began.

“Now that’s a hard-headed guy.”

“Shut up,” Song Yuyan laughed, bantering as he swiftly climbed down from the bed and changed into something decent.

“Third, you don’t even need to tidy yourself up. You’re ridiculously handsome either way,” Yang Yinghan said as he looked at Song Yuyan’s face, unable to hide his inner jealousy.

They were all human, but Song Yuyan’s existence constantly made him question whether they were of the same species.

Yang Yinghan wasn’t joking—even when Song Yuyan hadn’t slept a wink or fixed himself up in the morning, he still never looked sloppy. Instead, he had a kind of decadent allure.

“You really need to take a language class, Fourth,” Song Yuyan shot back casually. The downside of being too familiar with your roommates was how quickly the nicknames flew around.

Especially in this dorm: Big Bro, Second Bro, Third Bro, Fourth Bro. Every time Song Yuyan returned, he felt three kinds of regret.

First, regret that he wasn’t the eldest.

Second, regret that he was third.

Third, regret that the dorm didn’t go all the way up to a sixth member.

He didn’t want to think about it. Any more thinking, and he might start crying.

Dorm leader Zhang Lun was the first to catch on. “You’re going out on a date, aren’t you? As Big Bro, I don’t ask for much. If it goes well, introduce her roommate to me.”

Song Yuyan snorted, “Her roommate’s a guy. You want him?”

“If he’s pretty, does gender really matter that much?” Yang Yinghan replied.

The others went quiet, looking at each other as Song Yuyan grabbed his backpack and left. Still, none of them really believed his date was with a guy.

Zhang Lun, ever the leader, declared, “We’ll see! We agreed beforehand—whoever starts dating first has to organize a joint hangout for both dorms. Besties and close friends—we all get a shot.”

“Exactly. If there’s no opportunity, we make one,” Li Min added. They weren’t bad-looking themselves; it was just unfortunate that living with someone like Song Yuyan made the contrast painfully obvious. If he got into a relationship, maybe they’d all have a chance too.

Yang Yinghan muttered, “He said his date’s roommate is a guy.”

Zhang Lun paused, then finalized the matter: “Then it’s not a date—it’s a study session.”

He had no issue with Song Yuyan’s orientation. He just didn’t want any more handsome guys introduced into his life.

Living with one 24/7 was hard enough.

The rest agreed with Big Bro’s conclusion. Maybe Song Yuyan really was going to study. He did leave with a backpack, after all.

They turned back to their games, though suddenly the games didn’t feel quite as entertaining.

Ah, the first year of college—when you constantly burn with the urge to fall in love.

Unaware of his roommates’ exaggerated assumptions, Song Yuyan shared the same desire to be in a relationship.

It wasn’t about collecting for collection’s sake—although he did want to collect all three male leads. More importantly, once he completed the set, he wouldn’t have to work so hard anymore.

Who doesn’t want to take control of their life?

He really wanted that.

Song Yuyan strode forward with confident energy.

He gently pushed open the study room door.

A new world unfolded before him.

This wasn’t a movie or a drama scene, yet everything before him seemed bathed in a soft glow.

The people around him blurred into the background, except for one person—so vivid he felt almost surreal.

Feng Chengling’s face looked like it had been enhanced with cinematic effects, radiating the aura of a male lead from a big-budget film.

Song Yuyan: “This is the power of a handsome guy, huh?”

Because he was so good-looking, he immediately drew your gaze.

And since Feng Chengling was one of the male leads, he probably possessed a natural ability to attract attention.

Song Yuyan used that reasoning to justify his brief moment of awe.

He’d only been dazzled for a second. He recovered quickly.

Sigh—just being dazzled isn’t a big deal. If he could get bent by a handsome guy…

He swiftly pulled his inappropriate thoughts back.

Wearing a pure, innocent expression, he walked over to Feng Chengling.

Feng Chengling had already put down his book when he heard the door open. He turned to look toward the entrance.

It was the person he’d been waiting for.

Song Yuyan wore casual clothes in soft tones—beige pants, a light shirt, and a cream-colored windbreaker. These gentle colors made him seem even more pure. His clean-cut, delicate features carried a kind of untouchable air.

But human nature is contradictory.

At this moment, many thoughts swirled in Feng Chengling’s mind. His jaw tightened, eyes deep and dark, like they held a stormy dream.

He quickly snapped himself out of it, straightened his jaw, and tilted his head slightly, keeping his eyes locked on Song Yuyan.

His slender fingers tapped on the open pages of his book, but his gaze never returned to it.

He stared at Song Yuyan.

His voice dropped like a note from the heavens—ethereal, but somehow irresistible.

“Didn’t you say we were meeting here to study? I got here first.”

System: “Host, explain yourself! Say your legs are short!”

Song Yuyan was speechless. No wonder the system failed to spark anything with Feng Chengling during their conversations—it didn’t understand people at all. Should he say he went to the bathroom?

No wait, why would he bring a backpack to the bathroom?

Besides, why explain anything?

Judging from Feng Chengling’s expression, he didn’t seem upset. Probably just making small talk.

Like when people ask if you’ve eaten when you meet.

Song Yuyan walked over and sat next to him.

He lifted his head, brushing aside the hair covering his forehead. “I went to check myself in the mirror.”

Then he added, “Good thing it’s not too bad.”

Even though he said it was minor, Feng Chengling still frowned. “What happened? When did it happen?”

“Just now. I bumped into the wall,” Song Yuyan replied.

Not entirely true, but not a total lie either. Rounded up, it counts as honesty.

Feng Chengling stood and pulled him to his feet.

Song Yuyan made a couple of surprised noises, then heard Feng Chengling say, “You can’t really tell right now, but it’s best to ice it. If it swells, it’ll hurt.”

Song Yuyan fell silent and followed him, but he did pull his hand back.

Feng Chengling seemed to only then realize and said, “Sorry, I acted on impulse.”

“You’re probably not used to physical contact. I didn’t mean anything by it.” After explaining, he added softly, “Sorry.”

That final apology was barely audible.

If Song Yuyan were truly the innocent college boy he pretended to be, he would’ve felt guilty. But he was the transmigrated version.

He tried to hold his breath to keep his face from flushing, but failed. His eyes drifted to Feng Chengling’s waist, and soon his cheeks were burning.

A blush spread like clouds across his face, the thoughts in his mind fuzzy and wild.

He lowered his eyes further and murmured, “It’s okay. I definitely wasn’t thinking anything weird.”

The more he denied it, the more Feng Chengling would probably believe he was thinking something.

System: “?”

Song Yuyan: “The most brilliant hunter often appears as the prey.”

System: “Host, you’re the best! The absolute best in the world!”

The system didn’t understand, but that didn’t stop it from showering him with praise. All the veteran systems said emotional support was a must for useless systems like them.

Make your host happy.

See? After the compliment, the host’s eyes even started to sparkle—he was thrilled. The system did a few celebratory spins.

Unfortunately, it got dizzy.

While it was spinning, the host and Male Lead Feng were already walking in silence… straight toward the cafeteria.

Wait, what? They just ate—he’s eating again?

How should it remind the host that being the male lead’s dream girl requires maintaining perfect figure and looks? Eating too much creates waste, and waste slows your progress!

As it pondered this, it saw Feng Chengling walking straight to the burgers and sodas section. It wanted to say something—held back—wanted to say something again—and finally couldn’t help it:

System: “Host, Male Lead Feng is buying you burgers and soda at night?”

Song Yuyan blinked, dazed.

He hadn’t been thinking that way, but now that the system mentioned it… maybe he should.

Song Yuyan: “Not a bad idea.”

The system wanted to say more, but then saw Feng Chengling walking back swiftly.

He wasn’t holding burgers or soda.

He held an ice pack in his hand.

His expression was serious, and his aura sharp—not like someone walking in a cafeteria, more like striding through a shopping mall… or a battlefield.