The White Moonlight of Three Male Leads - Chapter 26

Chapter 26: A Deadly Question

 

Feng Chengling suppressed the rising mischief in his heart and looked at Song Yuyan with a proper expression.

 

Seeing that Song Yuyan was about to bump into the wooden board behind him, Feng instinctively reached out his arm.

 

Feng Chengling’s arms were long and strong, and the force of pulling Song Yuyan was slightly exaggerated. Caught off guard, Song Yuyan almost ended up in Feng Chengling’s arms.

 

No—more accurately, due to inertia, Song Yuyan accidentally fell into Feng Chengling’s embrace.

 

The scent on Feng Chengling filled his nose.

 

Song Yuyan touched his nose. It was clearly a faint scent, but he felt as though he could barely breathe.

 

His throat bobbed slightly, but his body didn’t dare to move.

 

At that moment, footsteps echoed from outside, followed by the sound of the door opening.

 

The footsteps lingered for a moment inside the classroom before fading. Then the door quietly closed again.

 

Was it Yi Xiangsui?

 

Song Yuyan touched his nose. It felt sore—he must’ve hit it when he fell into Feng Chengling’s arms.

 

He waited a while longer.

 

The classroom was eerily quiet, as if all sound had been sealed off.

 

He tilted his ear, the fluffy crown of his head moving slightly. Feng Chengling’s gaze landed on Song Yuyan’s dark hair, and the area on his chest where Song had repeatedly brushed against began to burn.

 

Feng Chengling pressed his lips together. “It’s okay, they’ve left.”

 

His voice seemed to be suppressing something. “Aren’t you going to move?”

 

Song Yuyan resisted the urge to look up. If he did and ended up bumping into Feng Chengling’s chin, wouldn’t that be a classic idol drama moment?

 

The air suddenly felt awkward.

 

Song Yuyan quickly slipped out, with Feng Chengling following closely behind.

 

Feng’s gaze lingered on Song Yuyan.

 

Song thought he heard a sigh from Feng Chengling, and then he noticed Feng bending down and patting the dust off his down jacket.

 

After finishing with the jacket, Feng moved on to patting Song’s light-colored pants.

 

From Song’s angle, he couldn’t clearly see Feng’s expression, but he could sense the seriousness.

 

Song blinked. His clothes were indeed dusty, but Feng Chengling’s weren’t in much better shape.

 

After brushing the dust off both of them, Feng finally spoke.

 

He asked lightly, as if not wanting to pressure Song, “The person you were hiding from just now—was that the one you mentioned before? The one you broke up with?”

 

As soon as he finished speaking, Feng’s brows furrowed. When Song looked up, his expression quickly returned to nonchalance.

 

Song thought of Yi Xiangsui and didn’t notice the change in Feng’s expression.

 

He nodded and asked thoughtfully, “Ling-ge, do you know what makes the best ex-boyfriend?”

 

Without waiting for Feng to reply, Song continued, “The best ex-boyfriend is a dead one. I’ve always believed that. Dead and never to be contacted again.”

 

Feng Chengling seemed thoughtful, his tense expression easing into a genuine calm.

 

He reached out to smooth Song Yuyan’s messy hair. “You’re right. I couldn’t agree more. A dead ex is the best kind.”

 

Feng tried to keep his face composed, not wanting to seem too proud—but he couldn’t quite stop the corners of his mouth from turning up.

 

He hadn’t seen the face of that person earlier, but their silhouette alone had been enough to show they were a strong rival. Still, Song clearly didn’t care about them—and if Song didn’t care, neither did he.

 

System: “Host, I don’t quite understand.”

 

System: “Why is Male Lead Feng smiling? Isn’t Male Lead Yi supposed to be his future rival?”

 

Song Yuyan: “Maybe Feng Chengling misunderstood something?”

 

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he didn’t crash and burn today. He narrowly escaped.

 

A small victory—worth celebrating.

 

Thinking of that, Song made a sudden decision.

 

“Ling-ge,” he called out.

 

Unaware of Feng’s strained expression, Feng pretended to be calm. “Hm?”

 

“Let’s go to the amusement park!”

 

He needed excitement, and a good scream.

 

Feng had grown used to Song’s spontaneous nature, but still found himself curious.

 

Curious what exactly went on in Song Yuyan’s head—it always caught him off guard.

 

System: “I get it now!”

 

Song Yuyan: “Hm?”

 

System: “If he’s young and untainted by the world, show him all its wonders; if he’s weathered and weary, take him to the carousel.”

 

Aww. No wonder he was its destined host! Always claiming not to hustle, but hustling all the same!

 

Today was another day it loved its host deeply.

 

Song received this flowery declaration from the system, quickly followed by a notification that he could now withdraw more funds.

 

The system’s way of expressing affection was simple and direct—and he liked it that way.

 

All of Song Yuyan’s lingering discomfort melted away.

 

At the amusement park with Feng Chengling, he screamed dramatically and laughed hard.

 

During a break, he was nearly breathless. Clutching his side, he asked Feng, “Ling-ge, it’s question time. Are you young and naive, or jaded and world-weary?”

 

Feng, also catching his breath, looked surprised. “What kind of question is that? Is it important?”

 

“Very important,” Song replied seriously.

 

Feng looked at Song.

 

Song probably didn’t realize it himself—but his charm, his ability to stir others’ emotions, was unmatched.

 

When Song smiled, others would want to smile too.

 

When Song became serious, others naturally followed suit.

 

Like now.

 

Feng’s lighthearted expression faded. He seriously considered the question before answering, “I’m still in university, haven’t entered society yet, so I guess I’m young and naive? But I also know a lot about the world. I see things realistically, maybe even pessimistically… Maybe I’m already jaded inside?”

 

By the end, even Feng himself wasn’t so sure.

 

He wasn’t sure he understood himself. He knew the market, his peers, and finance. These things made him unbeatable in accumulating capital.

 

But perhaps, he didn’t know himself well enough.

 

Feng didn’t dwell on it long. He saw the changing expressions on Song’s face—until Song made a decision.

 

Standing there, under the wide blue sky and white clouds, with the cold wind brushing past, Song’s face was still lit with a bright, boyish grin.

 

“Ling-ge, you’re really making this hard for me.” Song spread his hands. “We’ll just have to do both. First the roller coaster, then the carousel.”

 

During the few minutes on the roller coaster, Feng Chengling’s entire life seemed to flash before his eyes.

 

He had never understood himself more than in that moment. In that heart-pounding rush, the only person by his side was Song Yuyan.

 

His adrenaline surged, his heart racing wildly.

 

And in the midst of that chaos, one thought—clear and undeniable—rose in his mind.

 

A voice from deep within his soul, long buried, finally took form.

 

Back on solid ground, Song Yuyan was full of energy. Feng Chengling, in contrast, looked like his soul had just been extracted.

 

Song heard Feng murmur something.

 

“Ling-ge, what did you say?” he asked.

 

“…the one.” Feng Chengling’s heart was pounding wildly.

 

You are the one.

 

His teeth gently pressed against his tongue. Every line on his face and every muscle in his body tensed as he fought to maintain a calm expression.

 

Song Yuyan grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the carousel.

 

Song Yuyan: “Dear system, I just really wanted to ride the coaster and the carousel.”

 

System: “Oh, is that so?”

 

The system saw the genuine joy on Song’s face—and its CPU started overheating.

 

Clearly, the host was the cute one here!

 

But if the host was happy, then so was it!

…

Time passed. Life went on as usual.

 

Each day seemed ordinary, but under the surface, something ambiguous was brewing.

 

Song Yuyan and Feng Chengling were in touch more often now. As that vague chemistry fermented, the holidays gradually arrived.

 

Back in the dorm, everyone else had gone home.

 

On the first day without the others—Song Yuyan lay sprawled on the bed, feeling both empty and relaxed.

 

He could already imagine his future life after getting rich.

 

Lonely, bored—but loaded.

 

Bored, empty—but filthy rich.

 

No, no—he shook his head.

 

I just thought of Feng Chengling.

 

System: “Host is finally ready to fall in love?”

 

The system had learned a lot about human emotion from Song recently. It understood one thing clearly—Feng might be a winner in life, but emotionally, he’d already fallen hard.

 

Song shook his head.

 

Song Yuyan: “I’m more of a “feelings grow over time” type.”

 

The system’s CPU began to overheat. Clearly, it was spiraling.

 

Song Yuyan: “Time lets feelings ferment. It took me three years to get together with Yi Xiangsui—maybe I’ll consider dating Feng Chengling in my junior year?”

 

System: “…”

 

If this was Song trying to be fair, then something was… off.

 

No. Surely it was mistaken.

 

There’s nothing wrong with the host! He’s the chosen one!

 

System: “But what if—just what if—Feng ends up falling out of love?”

 

Human feelings are more fleeting than clouds. Lovers today, strangers tomorrow.

 

If life were as beautiful as the first meeting, why would autumn winds be so sorrowful?

 

Love isn’t something you can just fall into on a whim.

 

The system waxed poetic while Song Yuyan simply smiled.

 

Song Yuyan: “That’s even better. Once I graduate, I can give him a proper lesson.”

 

Song Yuyan: “The road most traveled… is manipulation.”

 

Song Yuyan: “A dead ex is invincible. I mean it.”

 

By then, after he confesses and then disappears, all the feelings they’ve built up will explode. Time will make it all the more intense and unforgettable.

 

He was never afraid Feng Chengling might fall out of love.

 

If anything, he hoped Feng wouldn’t fall so hard—it’d make his manipulations easier and less burdensome.

 

Song pressed his lips together.

 

People really couldn’t be underestimated. The moment he thought of Feng, his phone lit up.

 

Feng Chengling: “Yuyan, I brought you breakfast.”

 

Feng Chengling: “I’m downstairs.”

…

Feng stood outside the dorm building, neatly dressed in an overcoat, a gray plaid scarf wrapped around his neck.

 

He held a takeout bag in one hand, and every so often glanced down at his phone.

 

Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

 

Song Yuyan: Look up. 12 o’clock.

 

Feng lifted his gaze—and saw Song Yuyan.

 

Dressed in soft light colors, Song stood outside the dormitory, smiling radiantly.

 

Song counted silently to three.

 

Before he even got to three, Feng had already looked up, transitioning smoothly from reading the message to spotting him.

 

Song’s mischievous plan was foiled, but seeing a handsome guy first thing in the morning still put him in a great mood.

 

Feng approached with quick steps and handed over the takeout.

 

“You don’t have to go out of your way to bring me breakfast,” Song said, slightly embarrassed.

 

Really—just slightly. It had nothing to do with how warm his bed was during break.

 

“I wasn’t going out of my way,” Feng said. “I was heading to my part-time job and brought it along. No trouble at all.”

 

Song Yuyan: In the original plot, would Feng still be doing part-time jobs? Shouldn’t he be preparing for his startup by now?

 

Any deviation from the plot that was caused by him—Song welcomed it.

 

It was proof he was real, that he made an impact. If his presence didn’t change anything, then what was the point of coming here?

 

Song accepted the food. He wouldn’t easily accept favors from just anyone.

 

But Feng Chengling was different.

 

How, exactly? Song didn’t say.

 

He just felt a faint ripple inside him.

 

“I’m going back now,” Song said.

 

Feng gave a soft “Mm.” Once Song disappeared from view, joy exploded from his heart, surging through his veins and overwhelming every nerve ending.

 

Song didn’t say thank you—did that mean… they were already that close?

 

Feng’s phone buzzed again.

 

Song Yuyan: “Forgot to say thanks. 😊”

 

Feng pressed his lips tightly together.

 

The phone vibrated again.

 

Song Yuyan: “Breakfast was delicious. I really liked it.”

 

That last message was a voice note.

 

As Song Yuyan’s voice played through the speaker, Feng could almost see his smiling eyes.

 

He imagined Song holding the phone close, lips almost touching the mic—so close, his breath might fog up the screen.

 

The phone seemed to heat up. Feng could barely hold onto it.

 

He tilted his chin up, closed his eyes—the rhythm of his heart still wildly out of control.

 

His slender fingers gripped the phone tightly.

 

And then, without even thinking—He almost kissed it.

 

He didn’t have a phone fetish.

 

Feng swallowed hard. Realizing what he almost did, he turned and fled in panic.