Fever at Dusk

Qu Chao stood rooted to the spot, his face alternating between red and white, making the bruised, bluish side of his face—still swollen from the punch—look even uglier.

Although Xu Shuche spent most of his time living alone in the dorm, very little of the room actually belonged to him.

Most of it was filled with Qu Chao’s things, piled everywhere carelessly, leaving hardly any place to step.

“Jian Yixun, I’ll do it myself.”

Xu Shuche walked in, deliberately avoiding Qu Chao’s nearly murderous gaze, and began taking books down from the bookshelf one by one.

He stacked them together and tried lifting them, only for a troubled expression to appear on his face.

Jian Yixun had been staring at Qu Chao, wary that he might try something again, when he suddenly felt someone tug at his sleeve.

He turned around and saw Xu Shuche looking at him with a hint of embarrassment.

“What’s wrong?”

“There are too many books,” Xu Shuche said softly.

“I can’t really carry them.”

“It’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Those ten-odd books were hard for Xu Shuche to even lift, but for Jian Yixun they were effortless.

He held the books in one hand and asked,

“Anything else to move?

Your blanket?

Mattress?

Didn’t you say my bed is really hard?”

Xu Shuche’s face instantly heated up.

He hurriedly tidied the clothes in the wardrobe and pushed Jian Yixun toward the door.

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

“I’m just stating facts.”

Jian Yixun looked confused.

“You said the bed was hard and uncomfortable to sleep on, right?

What’s wrong with that?

That’s how we talk in the basketball team all the time.”

Xu Shuche choked on his words and, after a long pause, shook his head.

Would straight men never realize how easily their words could sound ambiguous?

Jian Yixun diligently carried Xu Shuche’s books and bedding into the dorm across the hall, making two or three trips.

Xu Shuche had said he would do it himself, but in the end he didn’t lift a finger, just stood aside watching Jian Yixun work.

“Thanks for the trouble,” Xu Shuche said awkwardly.

“I’ll treat you to a meal sometime.”

“Just a small favor.”

Jian Yixun wiped the sweat from his forehead and waved his hand.

“I’ve helped teammates move dorms too.

We’re all familiar with each other.

No need to feel awkward.”

Jian Yixun had originally planned to help Xu Shuche make the bed as well, but he got a call halfway through.

It was something urgent from the department, and he left together with Feng Zhou.

Once again, Xu Shuche was alone in the dorm.

Yet he felt a long-lost sense of ease.

When Jian Yixun was around, he had actually been quite nervous.

Especially after seeing that post in his Moments.

Does he really hate gay people that much?

Xu Shuche stared at the ceiling light for a while, then shook his head with a bitter smile.

He had lied just now.

An instinctive lie, born of fear—fear of facing the consequences if he told the truth.

He had finally tried to make a new friend and didn’t want to lose him so quickly.

But if Jian Yixun found out he was also gay, would he think Xu Shuche was no different from those people who approached him with ulterior motives?

The phone on the desk buzzed twice.

Xu Shuche snapped back to his senses and unlocked it.

【Orange Performer】：Bunny baby—

【Orange Performer】：We wiped on a dungeon run and need a healer to save us.

Are you free QAQ

Xu Shuche replied with “logging in now,” steadied his emotions, and opened his laptop.

“Orange Performer” was the deputy leader of Xu Shuche’s game guild and the guild leader’s in-game partner.

She played a Healer from the Wanhe Sect.

Back when Xu Shuche was too socially anxious to join a guild, she had picked him up on the road and brought him in.

As soon as Xu Shuche logged in, he saw that his top-ranked in-game partner, “Cheese Bear,” was also online.

Almost the moment his avatar lit up, Cheese Bear sent a message.

“Why are you online?

Aren’t you busy with papers lately?”

“Orange wiped the dungeon and asked me to help salvage it,” Xu Shuche replied.

“What about you?

Didn’t you say you had a meeting?”

“It’s all useless stuff.

I opened my laptop to slack off.”

Cheese Bear said,

“Which dungeon?

I’ll help too.

I’m free anyway.”

Xu Shuche knew that no matter how much he refused, Cheese Bear would follow along.

So he applied to Orange’s team and casually pulled Cheese Bear in as well.

Cheese Bear played the “Crane Step” sect, modeled after Wudang in Jin Yong’s novels.

A ranged internal-damage class.

The sect was full of tall, handsome male characters—walking clothes racks on the map.

As the server’s top-ranked player, Cheese Bear had spent heavily on the game.

His 88,000-yuan blue-glow Blossom Pavilion effect was dazzlingly obvious, drawing everyone’s attention the moment he entered the dungeon.

A girl’s voice came through the team mic.

“Ha, I knew that if we called Bunny, you’d follow.

Such a clingy tag-along.”

Xu Shuche smiled and put on his headset.

“Bunny, get on mic,” Orange said.

“Long time no chat.”

Xu Shuche turned on his voice changer, using his usual mature, slightly commanding female voice to chat leisurely with her.

Cheese Bear couldn’t join voice chat due to his meeting, so he participated by typing in the team channel.

“I’m telling you,” Orange said.

“It’s because the other healer in this team isn’t cutting it.

Their mechanics are too bad, totally can’t keep me alive.

That’s why I called you.”

Xu Shuche hummed, then suddenly noticed one avatar in the team turn gray.

It was that healer.

He resurrected her.

She got up and typed “QAQ” in the team channel.

“It’s okay, take it slow,” Xu Shuche comforted her in the team chat.

“Maybe you’re just not familiar with the mechanics.

A few more tries and it’ll be fine.”

The little healer replied obediently,

“Thank you, senior sister.

It’s my fault for causing trouble.”

What trouble?

Xu Shuche raised an eyebrow, not understanding what she meant.

His throat suddenly felt itchy, and he covered his mouth, coughing lightly a few times.

“Your voice sounded muffled earlier,” Orange said.

“Did you catch a cold?”

Only then did Xu Shuche realize his throat really was uncomfortably itchy.

He coughed twice more.

“Not sure.

My throat does feel itchy.”

“Sounds like a cold.”

Orange continued group-healing while talking.

“It’s getting much colder lately.

Take care of yourself, Bunny.”

Xu Shuche smiled.

“Got it.”

As they chatted, the little healer named “Chachuan” died again.

Her portrait had gone gray so many times that Xu Shuche couldn’t help remembering her.

Chachuan typed another “QAQ” in the team channel, apologizing for causing another wipe.

Xu Shuche began to feel a little dizzy.

Perhaps because there was no heating, his hands and feet felt cold as well.

“Remember to dodge the red circles.

And when it prompts you to block damage for teammates, you need to do that too.”

Xu Shuche simply pulled her into voice chat and taught her step by step.

“You’re pretty fragile.

Your HP pool is small.

You need to dodge skills and can’t just stand there.”

Chachuan obediently replied with a “Got it,” and Xu Shuche assumed she understood.

“And that max-geared Crane Step,” Xu Shuche shifted topics, afraid Chachuan might feel targeted, and called out Cheese Bear.

“You idiot, don’t slide so far away.

The healer can’t even reach you.

So annoying.”

“My bad,” Cheese Bear said.

“I’ll pay attention next time.”

Xu Shuche snorted.

“You’re quick to admit fault, but never think about me at all.”

“Nonsense, how could I not think about you?”

Cheese Bear replied.

“In the whole world, I love Bunny baby the most.

Everyone knows that.

And if they didn’t before, they do now.”

Guildmates in the team joined in to tease.

The final boss was eventually cleared amid countless wipes.

Feeling dizzy, Xu Shuche privately messaged Orange and Cheese Bear to say he was logging off to get some water.

His mouse hovered over the “Log Out” button when he noticed a red dot pop up in private messages.

【Temporary Chat】

【Chachuan】：Senior sister, I’m sorry QAQ

【Chachuan】：I’m too bad, I caused trouble for you

【Chachuan】：Did I make you angry?

Senior sister kept reviving me at the end.

It’s all because I have too little HP and can’t stand TAT

【Chachuan】：Is that Crane Step Daoist your in-game partner?

I made him get scolded too.

I feel really guilty.

Can I add him as a friend to apologize?

【Chachuan】：Senior sister, I don’t mean anything else.

I just want to apologize and find a mentor.

If you mind, then I won’t add him QWQ

Xu Shuche didn’t understand why she wanted to apologize to Cheese Bear.

His throat hurt too much.

He hastily typed “okay” and logged off.

When he had been focused on the dungeon, he hadn’t felt it.

But now that his attention returned to himself, the moment Xu Shuche stood up, the room spun violently.

He touched his forehead.

His hand felt icy, but his forehead was burning hot.

Maybe it was from standing outside for too long yesterday.

He had been fine after noon.

Yet somehow, in just a few short hours, a high fever came crashing down on him.

Xu Shuche covered his mouth and coughed twice.

Leaning against the table, he plugged in the kettle.

But he accidentally knocked a glass off the side, shattering it into pieces on the floor.

He sighed and bent down to pick up the shards.

One piece cut his hand.

Nothing was going right.

Xu Shuche let out a muffled groan of pain, wrapped the bleeding hand with tissue, and was about to grab a broom.

Then his phone rang.

“Senior?

Free tonight?”

Jian Yixun’s loud, carefree voice came through.

“Feng Zhou’s not coming back tonight.

You’ll be alone in the dorm.

Come out and eat with me.

My treat.

The meeting dragged on forever.

I’m starving.”

Xu Shuche replied softly,

“I won’t go.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

Jian Yixun immediately caught the change in his voice.

“What happened, senior?”

“I…”

Outside, dusk settled in.

The dorm lights were off.

The only light came from the laptop on Xu Shuche’s desk.

Loneliness surged like a tide, almost suffocating him.

The strength he had been pretending to have collapsed instantly.

“Jian Yixun, I think I have a fever.

I’m burning up,” Xu Shuche clutched his phone, as if grasping the last lifeline before drowning in loneliness.

“I’m dizzy.

I feel so awful.”