What's the Point of Living, when the best is Sleeping? [BL]

8

Ye Ming was once again being carried like a sack of rice through the halls of No. 1 High School. This sight, so familiar to everyone who had been at the school for a while, barely raised an eyebrow anymore. New students, however—like freshmen and recent transfers—were curious.

 The fact that he was being transported by a big, bulky bodyguard raised a lot of questions. But after inquiring with seniors or older students, they'd all get the same answer: "Ye Ming suffers from clinomania and apnea. Special treatment for him is normal." Even with the explanation, some couldn't help but feel envious.

"Good morning, Uncle Mucheng!" the greetings came from students and staff alike as the bodyguard carried Ye Ming on his shoulder. Ye Ming, only half-awake, barely registered the greetings. He was stuck between sleep and wakefulness, his mind drifting somewhere between dreamland and dread over the third scumbag who would be arriving today.

Peeling his dry lips with his teeth, Ye Ming's mind involuntarily wandered back to the plot of Lady Primrose. He remembered the forced family dinner where he had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince his family to let him be homeschooled. Naturally, the idea had been rejected. His family knew all too well how capable he was of hiding and avoiding life if given the opportunity.

The growing danger became undeniable when he encountered the second male lead. It was no longer just a matter of bad luck—it was like he was cursed. The seat next to him had once belonged to Bai Yuer, and now he couldn't stop thinking about the person who had kicked his desk the day before. His blurry memory made it hard to be sure, but he feared that the one who disturbed his peace was the first male lead.

Was he some kind of magnet for trouble? The female lead was already on his case, and now the male leads were circling too. And the third male lead? It was as if his fate was sealed.

Uncle Mucheng, ever the patient caretaker, noticed that his young master was now fully awake but remained silent. Ye Ming's chronic laziness extended even to something as simple as opening his eyes. But he seemed more fidgety today, mumbling something that Mucheng couldn't make out as he carried him to his seat.

Finally, they arrived at Ye Ming's usual spot, but something was different today. Someone was sitting in the seat next to him.

Ye Ming didn't bother to investigate, immediately drifting back to sleep. Thinking is exhausting, sleep is better.

But Uncle Mucheng was stunned. Sitting next to Ye Ming was a young man with fiery red hair, striking gray eyes, and an aura that sent a shiver down his spine. The boy's appearance was meticulously maintained, from his flawless skin to his perfect posture. Despite the friendly smile and warm demeanor, Mucheng could sense that something darker lurked beneath the surface.

Uncertain of his instincts, Mucheng introduced himself, "I'm Mucheng, pleased to meet you."

The red-haired boy kept his warm, inviting smile. "Hi, Uncle Mu. I'm Jing Jian. Please take care of me."

Mucheng nodded politely, assuming this boy would be a good companion for Ye Ming. "Then please take care of Ye Ming in my stead," Mucheng said before leaving the classroom.

As soon as Mucheng left, Jing Jian's face shifted from warmth to cold indifference. His eyes studied Ye Ming, still sleeping and seemingly unaware of everything around him. Jing Jian found himself strangely fascinated by the boy's small movements—how he furrowed his brows in discomfort, how he nibbled his lips, how a soft smile would occasionally appear as if he were dreaming of something pleasant.

And indeed, Ye Ming was dreaming. In his dream, he was lounging on a bed made entirely of marshmallows, soft and squishy, with no plot-driven stress to worry about.

The sight of Ye Ming's small actions—however insignificant—triggered something in Jing Jian. He found the boy adorable, a rare feeling for someone like him.

Minutes passed, and the first period began. Jing Jian's cold expression transformed back into a warm, approachable one as the teacher entered the room. At the teacher's request, he introduced himself to the class.

Jing Jian bowed slightly. "Pleased to meet you all. My name is Jing Jian, I'm 17 years old, and I like..." He paused, glancing at Ye Ming, who was still sleeping soundly. "...cute things."

His smile deepened, showing off two dimples. To everyone else, he seemed like a sweet, charming new student. But to those familiar with the Lady Primrose plot, Jing Jian was one of the scumbags responsible for Bai Yuer's eventual downfall.

After Jing Jian finished his introduction, Ye Ming stirred, slowly sitting upright and revealing his sky-blue eyes. Despite his sleepiness, he focused on the teacher, ignoring the strange feeling of someone watching him. Jing Jian's fake smile softened into something more genuine as he looked at Ye Ming.

"Hi, I'm Jing Jian," he whispered, trying to catch Ye Ming's attention.

Ye Ming turned to him, slightly startled. His pupils dilated for a second before returning to normal. This is it. The third male lead.

"En," Ye Ming muttered in response, knowing that acting indifferent could lead to instant disaster.

Ye Ming quickly glanced behind him, where he felt the burning gaze of the female lead. Is she jealous? She seemed annoyed, though Ye Ming had no intention of stealing her male leads. I'm not trying to interfere with your tragic love story, okay? We're all headed for a bad ending anyway.

Returning his gaze to Jing Jian, Ye Ming realized he had already forgotten the boy's name despite hearing it moments ago. "Ye Ming," he said softly, offering his name in a voice barely above a whisper.

He turned back to focus on the lesson, but the tension in the room remained. The female lead's eyes still burned into his back, and next to him, Jing Jian's smile persisted. What a way to start the day.

A/n: I'll continue publishing the edited version tomorrow after my class, and I did some changes—major changes. Credits to my one and only proofreader and editor suenexn for staying late with me.