The White Moonlight of Three Male Leads - Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Feng Chengling’s Confession

 

Song Yuyan curled up in his dorm room. It was cold, and his brain had stopped functioning.

 

Only by wrapping himself tightly in his blanket like a ball could he feel a hint of warmth.

 

“Even stretching out my hand would freeze it stiff. What do you expect me to do?”

 

Talking with the system, Song Yuyan tossed aside the science magazine he’d originally had open.

 

He really had no love for science magazines—not in this life, and even if he were reborn in the next, he wouldn’t.

 

He was just a simple, plain, ordinary man.

 

“Be honest. Are you not interested in the third male lead just because the task with Feng is already a sure thing?”

 

The more the system thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense.

 

“Aren’t humans supposed to want more money the better? Completing the capture of one male lead gives you ten billion. Every failure deducts ten billion. If you fail to capture the third male lead, you’ll only end up with ten billion. Isn’t thirty billion way better?”

 

“Thirty billion is nice, but once you have too much, it’s just a number. Besides, it’s too cold.”

 

“My brain’s frozen, my body’s frozen too.”

 

His gaze fell on the science magazine he’d tossed aside.

 

“Do you really think reading science magazines will give me something in common with the third male lead?”

 

“What are you thinking? Zhong Shenshi has a super-genius brain. He basically turned himself over to the nation early on. Even if you started studying from birth, you still wouldn’t keep up with his thought processes.”

 

Then the system suddenly realized what its host meant.

 

Right. No matter how hard he tried now, he’d never catch up to Zhong Shenshi’s brain. So what’s the point?

 

Maybe, like the first two missions, the third male lead would just inexplicably fall in love at first sight?

 

Besides, even if the host only successfully captured two male leads, the points he earned—after deductions—would still leave a huge surplus.

 

Too many points—just numbers. So… could the system slack off too?

 

The happiness came too suddenly. Even the system wasn’t used to it.

 

Song Yuyan truly thought this way. Zhong Shenshi’s mind was too powerful—set up as cold, intelligent, almost superhuman.

 

He barely even had human emotions. Just thinking about capturing someone like that made Song Yuyan nervous.

 

Why bother with a strategy? Let things take their course. Success or failure, it didn’t matter. With Yi Xiang and Feng Chengling’s favor, he was already in an unbeatable position.

 

Just as he thought of Feng Chengling, Feng made his presence felt again.

 

“I think Feng Chengling and I have some kind of unspoken connection.”

 

Saying this, Song Yuyan got out of bed.

 

The system was confused. Wait, didn’t the host hate going out in the cold? Wasn’t he glued to his dorm recently?

 

Now that he had money, he wouldn’t even go to the cafeteria. He stayed in, ordering takeout. He only went out a few times a day.

 

And after accepting Feng Chengling’s breakfast a few times, he stopped. Feng had to pick up a delivery job just to keep seeing him every day.

 

The system couldn’t keep secrets and spilled everything it knew.

 

While packing up, Song Yuyan answered calmly. He had long since mastered multitasking since binding to the system.

 

“When two people are getting along, they’ll naturally change for each other—if they’re willing to, that is.”

 

“Feng Chengling is changing for me. I like him too, so changing for him is normal.”

 

Once he finished speaking, Song Yuyan was ready to go. He cheerfully headed downstairs, as if off to a dance.

 

When he reached the first floor, Feng Chengling immediately caught his eye.

 

Feng was tall, impeccably dressed, and handsome. Standing there under the dim yellow light, the contours of his face—his straight nose, thin lips, dark eyes, and sharp features—were perfectly outlined.

 

A perfect moment, frozen in time.

 

“Click.” Song Yuyan mimed a square frame with his fingers, holding it up to his eye like a camera.

 

His face was lit up with a bright smile.

 

Feng Chengling noticed.

 

How could someone be so vivid?

 

That lively, intriguing personality made him feel like Song Yuyan was full of color and warmth.

 

Song Yuyan glanced up and down at him. “So handsome. Too bad I don’t drool over you anymore!”

 

A few days ago, when Feng was delivering takeout in a yellow uniform, Song had joked that seeing him made him drool—like seeing delicious food.

 

Feng clearly remembered those days: picking up extra shifts just to see Song Yuyan, swapping orders with other couriers when he couldn’t get them himself.

 

He had even used a few tricks to make it happen.

 

But it was worth it. Back then, he didn’t dare ask to hang out, but he missed Song Yuyan so much. Even a glimpse made the scheming worth it.

 

Feng Chengling pressed his lips together. He wasn’t wearing the delivery uniform today. Hearing Song bring it up, he said, “If you saw me and didn’t think of food, that would actually make me happier.” His voice was low. “Back then you said that and smiled all the way upstairs with the food. Do you know how I felt?”

 

Song Yuyan gave a sheepish grin. What else could he have felt?

 

Pretending not to hear it, he smoothly changed the subject. “Since you happen to be off today, I’ll take you to fulfill your promise!”

 

He took Feng Chengling to a popular tea shop.

 

They sat across from each other, each with a cup of Da Hong Pao lemon tea in front of them.

 

Feng took a sip. Lightly sweetened, no bitterness from the lemon—just the fresh citrus note and the rich aroma of tea. It was good.

 

The refreshing flavor bloomed on his tongue.

 

Song Yuyan looked up at him. “Is it good?”

 

Feng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yeah. It is.”

 

His voice seemed to resonate straight from his chest, deep and magnetic.

 

That, combined with the motion of his throat, his long neck, and prominent Adam’s apple… it made Song Yuyan think of a lot of things.

 

“He’s breaking the rules.”

 

“I need to punish him.”

 

The system’s CPU began to overheat. Was the host really thinking that kind of thing?

 

Feng Chengling would probably love to be punished anyway. Punished by love, maybe?

 

The two sat quietly sipping their tea. Feng finished his, while Song Yuyan was still drinking.

 

Feng just watched him.

 

Song Yuyan was used to being stared at—and had learned not to care. But “others” meant strangers. Feng wasn’t a stranger.

 

He lifted his eyes. “Don’t you have anything else to do?”

 

If you’re that bored, at least play on your phone. Staring at me won’t grow flowers.

 

“Nope.” Right as Feng said that, his phone rang.

 

He glanced at it, then casually hung up.

 

Song Yuyan couldn’t help but laugh.

 

He had a low laughter threshold and could always talk himself into a good mood. His spirits were always high.

 

After finishing his drink, they both grabbed their jackets and put them on.

 

Feng couldn’t help but recall the time at the library, helping Song Yuyan with his coat. He wondered when he’d get another chance to be rewarded like that.

 

Once outside, Feng paused.

 

Song Yuyan looked at him.

 

Feng cleared his throat. “I want to take you somewhere.”

 

“Oh? A surprise!”

 

“If the surprise is guessed in advance, is it still a surprise?”

 

“Sure it is. I don’t know the details. That’s what makes it exciting.”

 

Like digging up a pirate treasure chest—you might expect gold coins, but it could be gems, or a prank. You still feel the thrill when opening it.

 

He couldn’t guess what it was, but he followed Feng with interest.

 

When they arrived at a five-star hotel, Song Yuyan froze.

 

Feng looked a bit embarrassed.

 

He held the room key and led Song upstairs.

 

With every step, Song Yuyan felt like he was floating. His gaze toward Feng grew increasingly odd.

 

Not just odd—when they passed the front desk, the staff’s expressions were downright eager.

 

Song Yuyan could practically hear their thoughts: So all the hot guys are dating each other now… but I support it!

 

A faint blush crept up his cheeks.

 

He knew Feng wasn’t taking him here for that. And even if he were, he’d flatly refuse and block him forever. Still… that didn’t stop his brain from running wild.

 

Every step down the hallway, his imagination ran wilder.

 

Maybe something was wrong with him.

 

Glancing at the composed, cool-looking young man beside him, Song Yuyan’s mischievous streak kicked in.

 

He tilted his head. “Ling-ge, are you not going back to the dorm tonight?”

 

His face was all innocent and wide-eyed. If Feng hadn’t caught the teasing glint in his eyes, he might’ve believed he really didn’t know what was going on.

 

But even knowing, Feng didn’t call him out.

 

What could he do? He doted on him.

 

Feng’s eyes were dark, and his voice low and sultry. “There’s something more important tonight.”

 

Soon, they were at the hotel room door. Feng used the keycard and opened the door. As the lights came on, Song Yuyan saw a flicker of surprise on Feng’s face and realized this must’ve been Feng’s first time booking a hotel.

 

He probably expected a pitch-dark dramatic reveal.

 

“Wait out here for a bit.” Feng turned and was about to shut the door. Before closing it, he added, “Don’t leave. I won’t take long.”

 

Feng’s body blocked Song Yuyan’s view of the room.

 

Song Yuyan, surprisingly cooperative, said, “I’ll wait while listening to music. Hurry—one song’s worth. No, two.”

 

Feng’s eyes were pitch black, but Song Yuyan could see flames flickering in their depths—burning quietly.

 

He covered his mouth, barely holding in a laugh.

 

But while he held back the sound, the laughter in his eyes couldn’t be hidden.

 

…

 

Feng Chengling shut the door.

 

Song Yuyan leaned against the wall and pulled out his phone, playing a random song.

 

He thought about what Feng might be doing inside. He couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, a little excited, and a lot curious. Two songs weren’t long, but to him right now, it felt like an eternity.

 

After the second song ended, the door finally opened.

 

Feng Chengling stood at the door, no longer in his earlier attire. He had changed into a dark shirt and long coat, looking more formal, even solemn. The lighting inside the room had been adjusted, warm and soft.

 

Feng stepped aside and gestured for Song Yuyan to enter.

 

The moment Song walked in, he froze.

 

The originally ordinary hotel room had been transformed.

 

Fairy lights lined the ceiling edges, casting a soft golden glow. The floor had been cleared, and in the center sat a round table covered in a clean white cloth. On it were two covered plates, and a small bouquet of blue roses arranged with exquisite care. The faint fragrance of flowers lingered in the air.

 

The curtains were drawn, blocking out the night, creating an isolated and intimate space.

 

For a second, Song Yuyan forgot how to speak.

 

He turned his head and looked at Feng Chengling in disbelief.

 

Feng didn’t say a word. He walked over, pulled out the chair for him, and looked at him quietly.

 

Still stunned, Song Yuyan took the seat. Feng then sat down across from him.

 

A server quietly came in from a side door—clearly arranged in advance. The dishes were served, wine was poured, and then the server left, leaving the two alone again.

 

Song Yuyan took a breath. “You planned all this?”

 

Feng nodded. “I wanted to give you a formal date.”

 

Song Yuyan lowered his eyes, staring at the plate of food in front of him for a while, before speaking again. “Why?”

 

Feng looked at him and said, “Because I like you.”

 

His voice was calm and steady, but there was a weight to it that made Song Yuyan’s heart skip a beat.

 

“I’ve liked you since the first time I saw you at the school gate. You were smiling, a little mischievous, and very alive. At the time, I thought you were trouble. But the more I saw you, the more I couldn’t look away.”

 

He paused, then added, “So I chased every delivery order just to see you, even if it was only for a minute. I didn’t care if it was embarrassing or ridiculous. I just wanted to see you smile at me.”

 

Song Yuyan didn’t speak.

 

He stared at the flickering candle on the table, the flame dancing gently like his wildly fluctuating heartbeat.

 

“Yuyan,” Feng said, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t want to be your mission. I want to be someone who’s really by your side.”

 

This sentence, so soft, so heavy, landed squarely in Song Yuyan’s chest.

 

For a long while, he didn’t respond. His emotions were complicated—he didn’t know what to say, and he wasn’t the type to cry over confessions.

 

After a while, he finally raised his head, grinned, and said, “Feng Chengling, you really know how to surprise people.”

 

Feng didn’t answer. He just looked at him, eyes unwavering.

 

Song Yuyan’s voice lowered, no longer teasing. “I like you too.”

 

Just four words.

 

But Feng Chengling’s entire body seemed to relax in that moment. His fingers, which had unconsciously clenched, finally loosened. The tension in his shoulders faded, replaced by something soft and content.

 

“But,” Song Yuyan added, smiling slyly, “if you planned to confess today, why bring me to a hotel?”

 

Feng paused. “Because I wanted to create a private space.”

 

“Then why a hotel?” Song Yuyan pressed.

 

Feng said seriously, “Because I wanted you to have the option to leave or to stay—whatever made you feel safe.”

 

Song Yuyan was silent again.

 

He hadn’t expected such an answer.

 

After a while, he burst out laughing and shook his head. “You’re too sincere. It’s dangerous.”

 

He lifted his glass. “To sincerity.”

 

Feng clinked his glass against his. “To you.”

 

They drank.

 

The meal wasn’t extravagant, but it was warm.

 

There were no grand declarations after that—just gentle laughter, subtle glances, and a peaceful, intimate atmosphere shared only between two people who had already opened their hearts.

 

Later that night, as they stood by the window looking at the city lights, Song Yuyan leaned against Feng Chengling’s shoulder.

 

“Feng Chengling,” he said softly, “if this is how you confess, then I’ll look forward to how you love.”

 

Feng didn’t respond with words.

 

He turned his head and gently kissed Song Yuyan’s hair.

 

No noise, no firework, just the steady, silent beat of something beginning.

 

Something real.

 

Song Yuyan: “That was fun!”

 

Feng Chengling gave a soft “Mm” and turned to close the door behind him. His movements were gentle, refined—almost as if he were afraid of disturbing someone.

 

Song Yuyan was listening to music with his earphones in. The smooth, easy melody flowed into his ears, a song that normally helped him relax—but today, it had no such effect.

 

He kept glancing at the door, realizing how strangely he was acting. He leaned against the wall, earphones still in, chin slightly lifted, eyes unfocused and staring into space.

 

Barely a song had played before Feng Chengling came back out of the room.

 

He looked at Song Yuyan.

 

Without speaking, Song Yuyan removed his earphones and allowed Feng to gently guide him by the shoulder into the room.

 

He had imagined many possibilities—but the moment he saw what was inside, he was still caught off guard.

 

Candles were lit inside the room, red ones arranged in the shape of a heart. The flames flickered softly, casting a warm glow.

 

The floor was covered with rose petals, spreading all the way to Song Yuyan’s feet.

 

Looking at the sea of petals, Song Yuyan realized for the first time just how many colors roses came in.

 

Beautiful, dazzling—like a dream.

 

Feng Chengling took a deep breath, stepping forward through the fragrance of flowers. He knelt on one knee in front of Song Yuyan, his voice low and slightly hoarse, the kind that made your ears tingle.

 

“I love you. You are the poetry and the horizon in my life. You’re the adventure I want to pursue for the rest of my days. Rich or poor, whatever comes, I want to be the one by your side. I love you. All the love poems I’ll ever write are about you. My thoughts, my hopes, my future—it’s all you…”

 

Originally, Feng had planned to confess beneath Song Yuyan’s dorm building. But he’d thought about it too much, worried the wind would blow out the candles.

 

So he decided on a private, high-end hotel instead.

 

Now that he’d said the lines he had practiced over and over—even though he’d felt embarrassed memorizing them—at this moment, saying them in front of Song Yuyan, that shame vanished completely.

 

He could say it for a lifetime. No matter how sweet or ridiculous, he could say it for the rest of his life. And he would never get tired of it.

 

But right now, Song Yuyan didn’t respond.

 

Feng Chengling’s face tightened. Was he going to be rejected again?

 

Song Yuyan couldn’t describe what he was feeling.

 

He knew Feng’s reputation—confident, unstoppable, the golden boy who always succeeded. He never imagined that one day Feng would look so unsure of himself.

 

Feng’s jaw was tense, posture stiff, eyes dark and unreadable. The muscles in his face twitched slightly. He was trying so hard to appear flawless.

 

“Maybe… maybe I should redo the whole thing,” Feng said, voice low. “Maybe the lines I just said were too cheesy. Maybe you’re uncomfortable…”

 

He had barely stood up when Song Yuyan suddenly threw himself into his arms.

 

The soft strands of Song’s hair brushed against Feng’s chest. Feng’s lips pressed together tightly—this guy…

 

Feng’s hands hung by his sides.

 

He lifted one hesitantly, paused mid-air, then let it drop again.

 

His voice came out hoarse. “Don’t say yes just because you feel sorry for me. Please don’t pity me.”

 

That kind of acceptance would feel hollow—like anyone could’ve taken his place. It would crush his pride completely.

 

He wanted mutual love. He wanted to walk hand-in-hand with someone—not out of pity, but because they truly liked each other.

 

Pity was still a kind of emotion, but he knew all too well: being with someone out of pity and not love would only bring pain to both sides.

 

Song Yuyan’s head rested against Feng’s chest, his dark hair brushing Feng’s cheek, sending a tingling sensation through him.

 

But what made his heart ache more was what Song said next.

 

Their bodies were so close that Song’s voice came out slightly muffled, pressed against him.

 

“I don’t pity people easily. And I definitely wouldn’t start dating someone because I pity them.”

 

Then Song Yuyan looked up.

 

His eyes sparkled, expression soft but enticing.

 

“I’ve said what I needed to say. Now it’s your turn. Are you going to reject me?”

 

If Feng agreed, their story could begin.

 

What a tempting offer.

 

One that was impossible to refuse.

 

Feng’s arms slowly rose, firm and sure, wrapping around Song Yuyan’s shoulders.

 

He wanted their story to begin.

 

…

 

The confession was done—and successful. There was no reason for them to linger in the hotel room.

 

They went downstairs to check out. While doing so, Song Yuyan noticed the front desk clerk giving them a strange look.

 

Booked a room for the whole night, only stayed for an hour? Not even that long?

 

Some people might be handsome, but all flash and no substance.

 

Then the clerk looked at the room number again. Oh—it was the one reserved in advance for the confession!

 

That explained it.

 

The receptionist blushed.

 

So sweet. She wanted to fall in love too.

 

She wanted roses, candles, confessions—all the romantic clichés.

 

She used to be allergic to romance, but now she was cured.

 

Gripping her phone tightly, the young woman watched the stunning couple walk away and couldn’t resist snapping a photo.

 

…

 

Song Yuyan and Feng Chengling didn’t take a cab. They walked all the way from the hotel back to campus.

 

It was far, but neither of them mentioned a ride. They just wanted to walk together, slowly.

 

Song Yuyan: “Dating is fun. Even someone like me is turning into a lovesick fool.”

 

System: “Are you really? You sure?”

 

Song Yuyan: “Yeah, I am. But not completely.”

 

People have many identities, many roles. And with that, come all kinds of helpless compromises.

 

But Song Yuyan didn’t want to think too far ahead.

 

He was starved for love, and all he wanted was to cherish these two years he still had. That was the only thing he truly wanted right now.

 

He threw himself fully into the relationship.

 

It felt strange—beautifully strange.

 

And he wasn’t the only one acting strangely. Feng Chengling was too.

 

Feng used to be smooth, always had something to say. He was great at keeping a conversation going, never leaving awkward silences.

 

But now, walking back with Song, he was suddenly at a loss for words. His usually sharp tongue felt glued shut.

 

Yet even without words, their expressions, their gestures—glances exchanged, small smiles shared—spoke volumes.

 

Turns out, silence could carry a whole conversation.

 

Song Yuyan realized that for the first time.

 

But then, Feng decided it wasn’t enough.

 

He reached out and held Song Yuyan’s hand.

 

His fingers moved like vines, curling around Song’s fingers, testing, exploring—until finally, their fingers locked together.

 

Intimate, possessive, a little forceful—but Song Yuyan liked it.

 

He smiled faintly, looking up at Feng with laughter in his eyes, though what he said was teasing.

 

“It’s freezing. Who wants to hold hands in this weather? Are you dumb?”

 

Feng smiled. “Not dumb.”

 

To Feng, that wasn’t a complaint—it was clearly a form of affection.

 

Feng felt his heart tingle. His eyes lit up. He wanted to hug Song Yuyan and call his name over and over.

 

How could he be so unfairly charming?

 

Suddenly giving out little rewards like that.

 

Feng’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he gently pulled their intertwined hands into his coat pocket.

 

He used to think coat pockets were useless—but now?

 

Now, his pocket held both their hands.

 

And so, the coat became something special. Priceless.

 

His heart was soft, sweet, and buzzing.

 

He bit the tip of his tongue, trying to suppress his urge to hug Song again.

 

They had only just started dating. He had to keep it cool. Be composed.

 

Song Yuyan hadn’t expected Feng to tuck their hands inside his pocket like that.

 

Song Yuyan: “He’s so good at this. I really like him.”

 

They stayed quiet the rest of the way—until it was time to part. They stood under the dorm building.

 

Feng looked down, eyes deeply fixed on Song Yuyan.

 

He lifted a hand to brush Song’s cheek, barely a touch—but enough to warm his palm.

 

And his heart.

 

Feng opened his mouth, hesitating.

 

Song Yuyan grinned playfully. “Say something, boyfriend.”

 

Feng swallowed his embarrassment and furrowed his brow slightly. “Today… maybe… I could get a reward?”

 

Song didn’t understand at first.

 

He looked at Feng, confused. Feng’s eyes darted away for a moment before locking back onto Song’s.

 

Seeing his puzzled face, Feng cleared his throat. “I mean… uh, couples usually have a hug, right?”

 

He brought his hand to his lips, eyes usually calm now flickering with nervous persistence.

 

The moon hung high in the night sky, pouring silver light over everything. Moonlight was pure, and the world felt dreamlike.

 

Song Yuyan’s eyes crinkled as he smiled—and threw himself into Feng Chengling’s arms.

 

Feng was tall, well-built, and trained. Even with Song suddenly leaping into him, he stood firm.

 

The moon had risen above the treetops.

 

His jaw tightened. His chest swelled with joy—as if something incomplete inside him had finally been made whole.

 

He lowered his head, brushing his cheek against Song’s shoulder, memorizing the scent of him.

 

“I should go,” Song said.

 

He turned and walked away, light on his feet, joy written all over his face. He waved at Feng as he walked under the dorm lights.

 

Feng watched Song disappear, just like he always did.

 

He pressed his lips together. He had already received his reward—he couldn’t ask for more.

 

He looked up.

 

The moonlight shone down on him.

 

Under its glow, he smiled softly.