Tong Zhanyan closed the door behind him and introduced himself, “I’m Tong Zhanyan. I live here too. Since you weren’t around, I went ahead and picked a spot.”

As he spoke, he carried his things toward the balcony. The smell of eggshells was indeed quite strong—he needed to deal with it quickly.

Qing Jiyue merely watched him, offering no reply.

It seemed peaceful coexistence was out of the question.

Tong Zhanyan fell silent, secretly letting out a sigh of relief.

If Qing Jiyue left, this dorm would be his alone—a welcome development.

Placing the bag in the sink, Tong Zhanyan rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

He was in luck—two trash bins yielded half a bag of eggshells.

Rinsing the blood off the shells, he returned to the wardrobe, grabbed an old, discarded shirt, and tore it into two pieces. One served as a rag to roughly dry the shells, while the other wrapped up the dried fragments.

Once ready, he grabbed a relatively thick book and began pounding repeatedly.

Whatever kind of eggs they were, they were twice the size of chicken eggs. Yet, the thickness of the shells was remarkably similar, shattering easily into powder.

The crushed eggshells shrank from filling half a bag to about four or five tablespoons. Tong Zhanyan estimated it might not be quite enough, but it was just a trip back to the closet.

After pounding a bit longer, grinding them into as fine a powder as possible, Tong Zhanyan sprinkled it evenly over the four healthier tomato plants.

After sprinkling, he lightly mixed the surface soil to prevent the powder from blowing away.

Finally, Tong Zhanyan weighed the flower pots, judging that the water in the soil had mostly evaporated and it was time to water again. he filled two basins with water and set them out on the balcony to aerate.

Tap water typically contains high levels of chlorine, harmless to humans but damaging to plant roots. Long-term use can also cause soil to compact and lose aeration, so it’s best to let it sit for a day or two before use.

Last time, he’d been so preoccupied with logistics after placing the order that he hadn’t thought to prepare ahead. He knew he couldn’t let that happen again.

After finishing his tasks, Tong Zhanyan looked up to find Qing Jiyue hadn’t left. Instead, he was sitting at his desk, watching him thoughtfully.

When he noticed his gaze, Qing Jiyue looked away.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t press the issue. With little time left for lunch break, he washed up and quickly lay down to sleep.

When Tong Zhanyan awoke, he was alone in the room.

Stepping outside, he immediately spotted Tian Xinqing chatting with a group of people.

“What’s up?” Tong Zhanyan asked, puzzled.

“I heard Qing Jiyue has arrived,” Tian Xinqing said mysteriously.

Tong Zhanyan felt both amused and exasperated. “…So?”

That kind of charisma and presence couldn’t be faked by someone without real talent. Tong Zhanyan had guessed the other person’s identity the very first time they met.

“Word is someone saw him enter our dorm building.” Tian Xinqing wore an exasperated expression—this was Qing Jiyue we were talking about.

“So?”

Tian Xinqing immediately wanted to add something, but the words twisted on his tongue, his face contorting. “He couldn’t possibly have really…”

Tong Zhanyan led the way downstairs.

On the way, learning Qing Jiyue had actually been assigned to Tong Zhanyan’s room, Tian Xinqing’s eyes brimmed with envy. Upon realizing Qing Jiyue had already left, he was heartbroken.

He should’ve skipped his afternoon nap.

But then he remembered they were in the same class. Tian Xinqing immediately rushed off toward the classroom.

Qing Jiyue didn’t show up in class, but Devil King did, for the first time in several days.

Academic Affairs Office.

“…That’s basically the situation. If you need anything, just speak up anytime. You can tell me or your homeroom teacher, Wang Yanzhou.” The Academic Affairs Director said, “I’ve already spoken with him.”

Everyone was well aware of Qing Jiyue’s situation, so the school naturally showed him extra leniency and consideration.

“Mhm.” Qing Jiyue gave a noncommittal response and started to leave.

“Wait, there’s still the dorm matter.” Gu Yinfeng, who had accompanied him, reminded him.

Qing Jiyue recalled the scene he’d witnessed at noon. “…Let’s just leave it at that for now.”

With that, Qing Jiyue exited.

“What happened?” Gu Yinfeng paused briefly before hurrying after him. He knew his friend well—never one to compromise, he’d never accept sharing a room if given a choice.

Qing Jiyue offered no explanation.

By the time they spoke, they’d reached the sports field.

Seeing Qing Jiyue’s reluctance to talk, Gu Yinfeng didn’t press further and changed the subject. “So, are you heading to class now? It’s probably already started.”

“Tong Zhanyan—”

No sooner had Gu Yinfeng finished speaking than a thunderous roar echoed from the left side of the field.

Most of the people in the field turned to look.

Amid the crowd, on the track, Tong Zhanyan was seen clutching a scruffy-looking chicken, sprinting for his life as if fleeing a disaster.

The Devil King had returned, and with him came renewed attention toward Tong Zhanyan. As if realizing his previous indifference had been a mistake, he now compensated by going even further.

“It’s him.” Gu Yinfeng recognized Tong Zhanyan.

”Mhm.”

Gu Yinfeng raised an eyebrow, surprised that Qing Jiyue would remember Tong Zhanyan too.

His grandfather’s complete frenzy, his Father’s illness, the heavy responsibilities of the Qing Family, and the high expectations placed upon him by outsiders—ever since he understood the world, Qing Jiyue had focused all his attention on training, rarely showing interest in anyone.

“I’m going to train.” Qing Jiyue headed toward the training grounds.

By evening, when Tong Zhanyan was dragged left and right by Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran to the cafeteria to be fed, then hauled back to the dormitory, his calves were still trembling.

Leaning against the wall as he entered, he found the room lit. Seeing Qing Jiyue reading at his desk, Tong Zhanyan was startled. Why was Qing Jiyue still here?

Tong Zhanyan glanced at the book on the desk. Was he planning to stay?

He was puzzled, but he was too exhausted to even muster the energy to examine those little tomatoes. After washing up, he collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep.

The next morning, Tong Zhanyan was roused by the alarm clock to find the bed opposite his empty.

The books remained.

It was probably because the paperwork wasn’t processed that quickly.

Clinging to this hopeful thought, he lingered in bed a while longer. After getting up and washing, he inspected the tomatoes.

His method clearly worked. As days passed, even the weakest seedling visibly improved with each sunny day.

The two already healthy plants had blossomed five or six more flowers over the past two days, while other buds looked poised to burst forth.

Today, he absolutely had to replenish the eggshells.

The number of flowers on a tomato plant is determined during bud differentiation. Once they fall off, they’re truly gone—they won’t grow back.

As soon as he opened the door, Tong Zhanyan spotted Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran. The former craned her neck to look around the moment he opened it.

“Stop looking. He’s long gone,” Tong Zhanyan said.

Tian Xinqing sighed disappointedly, “Oh…”

When Tong Zhanyan returned at noon, Qing Jiyue was already inside.

He’d only been back a short while, still sweaty, and was heading to wash up with a change of clothes.

A suitcase now sat on the floor where none had been before.

Was he planning to stay?

The dream of a single room shattered, Tong Zhanyan sighed inwardly. But it had only been wishful thinking anyway, so he wasn’t too disappointed.

After lingering in the room a while longer, he retrieved his trusty tool—a plastic bag—and headed downstairs.

Half an hour later, Tong Zhanyan returned carrying a bag half-filled with eggshells.

Qing Jiyue had finished showering and was drying her hair while reading. He glanced up as he entered before returning to his book.

Tong Zhanyan couldn’t help but stare a little longer. With his waist-length hair down, the sharpness around Qing Jiyue’s brows softened somewhat, adding a striking beauty that was truly eye-catching.

Too bad he’s a guy.

Tong Zhanyan thought to himself as he closed the door behind him.

After thoroughly washing the eggshells, drying them, grinding them into powder, measuring out the right amount to pour into the flowerpot, and mixing it evenly with the soil, Tong Zhanyan submerged all the tomatoes in water and prepared to go to sleep.

As he rose, Tong Zhanyan noticed Qing Jiyue had stopped reading at some point and was watching him again.

“Don’t tell anyone else. They don’t know yet,” Tong Zhanyan said with a smile.

Qing Jiyue didn’t seem like the type to blab, but a reminder never hurt.

Qing Jiyue withdrew his gaze.

“Mm.”

Tong Zhanyan had expected him to ignore him, but then a voice reached his ears.

Qing Jiyue paused briefly before adding, “Qing Jiyue.”

Tong Zhanyan froze for a moment before realizing he was responding to his earlier self-introduction.

Tong Zhanyan smiled. This person didn’t seem so hard to get along with after all.

After finishing his tasks, Tong Zhanyan hurried to bed.

Lunchtime was already short, and Tong Zhanyan had spent half of it on other things. When the alarm went off, he felt like he’d only just closed his eyes.

Across the room, Qing Jiyue was folding his quilt, looking as though he’d also caught some sleep.

After retrieving the soaked tomatoes from the basin and setting them aside, Tong Zhanyan spoke up as he reached the doorway, “Want to head to class together?”

Since the single-room plan had fallen through, he might as well make the best of their situation.

Qing Jiyue turned to look at him.

“This afternoon’s classes are cultural subjects—history and basic first aid.” Tong Zhanyan explained.

Qing Jiyue pondered for a moment, then walked to the desk beside him, pulled out two books, and approached Tong Zhanyan.

Tian Xinqing and Su Yanran were waiting in the hallway. They both looked up when Tong Zhanyan opened the door. Spotting Qing Jiyue behind him, they both froze for a second.

The next moment, Tian Xinqing’s eyes brimmed with excitement and curiosity.

Su Yanran remained relatively composed, though he couldn’t help but scrutinize Qing Jiyue.

It was the time just before lunch break ended, and the hallway was packed with people, all of whom turned to watch.

“Tian Xinqing, Su Yanran—my friends, both in our class,” Tong Zhanyan introduced briefly. “Qing Jiyue—my roommate.”

Qing Jiyue glanced over.

Tong Zhanyan led the way downstairs.

It was Qing Jiyue’s first time visiting the classroom. The moment he entered, the previously noisy room instantly fell silent.

“Just grab any empty seat,” Tong Zhanyan said as he sat down in the middle row on the left—his and Tian Xinqing’s usual spot.

Most of their classes were physical training and spirit beast training, with academic subjects making up only a third of the assessment and carrying little weight. It felt more like a break from the intense training, so they were pretty relaxed about it.

Hearing this, several students promptly cleared the empty seats beside them. Those already occupied spots were quickly vacated—after all, this was Qing Jiyue.

Qing Jiyue glanced around and sat down to Tong Zhanyan’s left.

A group of students turned their gaze toward Tong Zhanyan.

Tong Zhanyan himself froze for a moment.

The class bell soon rang. The exceptionally sharp history teacher entered, books tucked under his arm and a water cup in hand.

Everyone hurried back to their seats.

“History class,” Tong Zhanyan reminded him as he opened his book.

Qing Jiyue pulled out his history textbook.

The intensely hypnotic voice soon filled the room. Tong Zhanyan strained to focus, yet his thoughts drifted away.

Qing Jiyue’s fingers were straight and slender, exceptionally beautiful, but thick calluses marked the bases and webbing between them.

His current status wasn’t solely due to innate gifts.

Just as Tong Zhanyan’s eyelids began to droop, a bald head abruptly invaded his vision. Devil King had appeared at the window, peering into the classroom.

Every student instantly snapped out of their usual drowsiness, sitting bolt upright with eyes wide as copper bells.

Faced with this eager display of thirst for knowledge, the history teacher at the front of the room was deeply moved, his voice trembling slightly.

Tong Zhanyan instantly sobered up, simultaneously casting a reproachful glance at Tian Xinqing beside him for failing to warn him.

As for Qing Jiyue, he was propping his head up with one hand, yawning.

The class-renowned power of the most soporific lesson was no joke.

The Devil King didn’t linger outside the window long, but the drowsiness vanished completely.

When the bell finally rang, the classroom erupted in wails of despair—the Devil King would surely make them pay.

Tong Zhanyan didn’t wail. His soul had already left his body.