Chapter 21.2 - Actually It Was A Tantrum (2)
During the break, Zhang Mingrui stood up, stretched, and nudged her.
“What’s going on?” Luo Zhi was a bit impatient, as she was reading something exciting.
“We’re going downstairs to grab some food, didn’t have time to eat breakfast. Do you want anything?”
“No, thanks.”
“Then come with us. Sitting all the time is tiring,” Sheng Huainan smiled warmly.
Warm enough to make everything that had happened feel like it never existed.
Of course, nothing had really happened—if her inner turmoil didn’t count.
Sheng Huainan’s smile and gentle tone made Luo Zhi look at him for the first time in days. For the first time, she realized his smile was so similar to the way others saw her, and yet so terrifying.
She turned her gaze back to Zhang Mingrui.
“I’ll watch your computers,” she said flatly, then prepared to put her headphones back on.
“You—” Zhang Mingrui started pulling at her sleeve.
“You’re so annoying! I’m punishing you to buy me some Vitamin C water! And a bag of Lay’s chips! Stop talking and hurry up!”
Zhang Mingrui opened his mouth, not knowing what to retort, while Sheng Huainan smiled and pulled him away.
Just as they took a step out, Sheng Huainan suddenly turned around and called out to her.
“Luo Zhi, what flavor of chips do you want?”
Luo Zhi stared at Zhang Mingrui with a blank expression.
“Each… one… bag.”
In the end, her mind was filled with Sheng Huainan’s various smiles. She closed the book, turned off the CD, and sat back in her seat, daydreaming.
She was startled when a big bag of chips fell from above.
Original, tomato, BBQ, cucumber, and pizza flavors. Five bags in total, all the largest sizes. Sheng Huainan leaned against the wall, smiling at her, while Zhang Mingrui, who had thrown the chips, was above her, blowing air through his nostrils.
She didn’t say anything. She took out her mechanical pencil and poked the bags, letting the air out one by one until they all became flat.
“What are you doing?” Zhang Mingrui asked.
“Saving space, or my backpack won’t fit.”
“You’re clever,” Sheng Huainan said, as he ate a small bag of cucumber-flavored chips.
“Yeah, I’m so clever that even I’m scared of myself,” she thought of the protagonist from one of Jiubadao’s novels.
“Are you satisfied?” Zhang Mingrui asked from above.
“Thanks,” she raised a bag of chips and waved it at him.
“It’s not my fault… Sheng Huainan bought them,” Zhang Mingrui said.
She could feel Sheng Huainan, leaning against the wall, looking at her, seemingly waiting for her reaction.
“Oh? You’re so stingy. Didn’t you say you’d buy them?” She didn’t respond to him.
“What? You think I’m stupid? Only an idiot would buy one bag at a time!”
“Hey, what do you mean? Who are you calling stupid?”
Finally, Sheng Huainan, who she had deliberately ignored, spoke up.
But for some reason, Zhang Mingrui suddenly fell silent, and Luo Zhi had no intention of speaking.
The three of them fell into an odd silence. Wasn’t it said that such moments often meant angels were flying above?
She looked at Sheng Huainan, whose face was slightly red, his eyes bright and a little awkward, but still stubbornly looking at her.
What was this?
She suddenly laughed. Perhaps it was because the situation felt so ironic, but she couldn’t explain why. She laughed brightly, ignoring Zhang Mingrui’s confused face, and kept laughing, stuffing chips into her bag before standing up and walking past the two silent boys toward the back door.
“Luo Zhi, you also chose the dual law degree?”
It was Zheng Wenrui. Holding a water cup, looking at her, smiling politely, but her gaze drifting behind her.
Luo Zhi guessed that Zheng Wenrui must have noticed her walking out of class with Sheng Huainan and Zhang Mingrui a few times, and maybe she was unhappy. After all, Luo Zhi knew her feelings, but she seemed so close to the person Zheng Wenrui liked.
It didn’t matter anymore. What did it have to do with her? Could she eat her? Luo Zhi thought indifferently.
She pointed to the bag on her shoulder and said, “You’re also doing the dual law degree? Hehe, we’ll chat another time. I have to go now.”
It took Luo Zhi a while to realize. She thought she had given up, but actually, from the moment she deliberately ignored and didn’t respond to Sheng Huainan, she had been sulking and throwing a tantrum.
She really was so pretentious.
Pretentiousness meant clearly sulking but acting like she had seen through the world, often saying her heart had already turned cold.
She admitted she couldn’t be honest and open in front of this person, couldn’t be completely relaxed. So she couldn’t be friends with him as if nothing had happened—only two types of people could do that: those who were truly pure and clear-hearted, or those who had deep schemes, knowing how to endure and wait. Luo Zhi was neither of those; she could only sulk. This confusing situation made her unable to move forward or backward, lacking some form of resolution. Even if she wanted to give up, she couldn’t even make a graceful “letting go” gesture.
She suddenly understood the mindset of Baili when she sent that serious confession text to Ge Bi all those years ago. They both needed closure.
No wonder Ding Shuijing complained about her indifference. Actually, when it came to emotions, she didn’t understand anything, but she made those who did feel like she was mocking the world with her so-called detachment.
She really didn’t understand anything, but she hadn’t mocked anything either.
As soon as she entered her dorm room, her phone vibrated. A text message.
Sheng Huainan asked, “Are you... still mad at me?”
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