MM | Chapter 73

The Liar

Sheng Wang stormed to the door with a fierce determination, hand already on the handle, before realizing how foolish he was. He should have just bitten his brother first and asked questions later. Thinking this, he felt like he had lost out big time.

The “idiot” was still knocking. With a face ready to devour someone, Sheng Wang opened the door, ready to ask “What do you want?” only to find the “idiot” was actually a teacher from the training camp. Led by the logistics teacher, a group of five stood smiling at the door.

Sheng Wang: “…”

“Oh, what’s with that expression? Not feeling well?” Teachers tend to have a soft spot for outstanding students, and these teachers quite liked Sheng Wang. Outside of class, they weren’t as strict.

Sheng Wang put down his metaphorical knife and found an excuse: “I have a stomachache.”

“Why a stomachache all of a sudden? Did you eat something bad or catch a chill?” the teacher asked.

Sheng Wang, sticking to his long-unused “weakling” persona, said, “No, just a weak constitution.”

The logistics teacher chimed in, “Probably caught a chill. This school is ridiculous, choosing to fix that broken pipe during the training camp. I almost got doused with cold water while showering.”

The language teacher said, “I took my shower right after class, didn’t notice. If you shower with cold water in this weather, that’s no joke.”

“Exactly, you’ll definitely get sick.”

They gradually entered the room, greeting Jiang Tian and looking around the dorm.

“Why did you suddenly come to the dorm?” Sheng Wang asked.

The speech teacher chuckled, “Caught daydreaming in class, didn’t you? I mentioned in the afternoon that we’d come by tonight. We’ve been busy with preparations the past few days, and tonight we finally had some free time to check on your living conditions. Didn’t expect to run into a water outage, though.”

He pointed at Jiang Tian and said, “See, Jiang Tian was paying attention; he knew we were coming and didn’t ask such questions.”

Sheng Wang: “…”

He knew nothing.

Jiang Tian had just put down his pen and stood up from the desk. Seeing Sheng Wang’s wronged expression, he couldn’t help but want to laugh. The speech teacher caught this fleeting expression and said, “See, now you’re showing some emotion!”

Jiang Tian: “?”

“I’ve told you a thousand times, your speech is beautifully written, precise, and sharp,” the teacher said. “But there’s a problem with emotional delivery. A successful speaker can stir emotions, make people cry or laugh, leave them inspired or deeply moved.”

The teacher got carried away, launching into an impromptu speech on “how to make a stoic student passionate.”

After finishing, he took a sip of water and asked Jiang Tian, “Feeling inspired?”

Jiang Tian: “…”

He hesitated for two seconds, about to speak, but the teacher waved him off, “No need to say it; I can tell from your face.”

Turning to his colleagues, he said, “I’m resigning tomorrow.”

The other teachers nearly died laughing.

The speech teacher then got serious, “Alright, no jokes. Seriously, the speech competition during training is crucial. Among top contenders, a single point can make a big difference. The competition score is a significant part of the total.”

“We came today partly for this reason, to remind everyone while there’s still time. The competition results are one thing, but we hope outstanding students can address their weaknesses and become even better. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. I’m not demanding you be overly expressive, but I hope you can improve.”

He pointed at Sheng Wang, “Look, your roommate is a ready-made resource. One can speak, the other can listen. See if you can move him, make him cry, right?”

These teachers truly valued talent. Even after class, they couldn’t help but share their experience and techniques, visiting each dorm to chat.

Finally, they held a small meeting to discuss key points for the final competition before leaving.

The night was deep, and the hallway’s noise receded like the tide, shut out by the dorm door.

Sheng Wang yawned twice, feeling sleepy.

These students had a quirk: they liked to push themselves. Even when tired, they’d play games on their phones or chat endlessly on WeChat, as if not exhausting themselves to sleep was a waste of time. Only during ten-minute breaks did they sleep soundly.

After brushing his teeth, Sheng Wang wandered the dorm, casually picking up Jiang Tian’s speech draft and sitting on the ladder to the top bunk.

Jiang Tian was at the sink, the sound of running water mingling with the hum of an electric toothbrush. Sheng Wang, with one foot on a lower step, listened to the other’s movements while glancing at the draft.

Jiang Tian came over, having splashed his face again, with tiny droplets clinging to his hair. Sheng Wang, sitting a bit higher, saw only his straight nose and lips from this angle.

The young master stared for a few seconds, then quietly looked away. At this age, once the restlessness found an outlet, it was like standing on the threshold every day.

Torn between impulse and reflection—

When he was restless, his gaze would drift below Jiang Tian’s nose, sometimes without even realizing it. He wondered if Jiang Tian noticed, and if so, what he thought.

Then he silently reflected, feeling like a little rascal.

“Why are you sitting on the ladder again?” Jiang Tian casually grabbed a tissue.

As soon as he spoke, Sheng Wang felt caught in the act, so he straightened a leg, adopting a more relaxed posture.

He shook the notebook in his hand, “I’m looking at your speech draft. Didn’t the teacher say it was beautifully written? I’m reading it.”

Jiang Tian recalled the teacher’s teasing, a bit helpless, “Finished reading? Hand it back.”

“No.” Sheng Wang hadn’t read a word. He flipped through a couple of pages, “Listening is faster than reading. Why don’t you just deliver it?”

“Forget it,” Jiang Tian said, not giving in.

“The teacher said you can’t waste a free audience like me.”

“Then let it go to waste.”

“Come on, where else will you find such a cooperative audience?” Sheng Wang teased him, leaning back like a boss, spreading his hands, “Come on, make it emotional, make me cry.”

“…”

The dorm fell silent for a moment. Jiang Tian shook the water from his hair, blinked, then looked up.

After speaking, Sheng Wang realized his words were off. Meeting Jiang Tian’s gaze, he quickly added, “No, I mean with your speech…”

He cut himself off, feeling it was better left unsaid.

The smooth talk he learned from Sheng Mingyang was useless now, and he suddenly felt tongue-tied.

The young master quietly retracted his arrogant foot, sulking on the ladder for a few seconds, then turned and climbed to the top bunk. His movements were calm, but his retreat screamed “I’ve embarrassed myself again.”

Jiang Tian’s gaze lingered on the ladder for a while, blinking before coming back to his senses. The person on the top bunk had already buried himself. He instinctively returned to the sink, turned on the tap, and realized he had already finished washing up. So he calmly washed his hands again, dried them with another tissue, then turned off the lights and returned to his bed.

As he sat on the bed and pulled the covers over, a breeze slipped through the balcony door, making him feel a bit cold. He didn’t pay it much mind, but he paid for it the next day.

Sheng Wang was awakened by his alarm at 7:15. Groggily opening his eyes, he found Jiang Tian’s speech draft still in his hand. The temperature had dropped again, and it was chilly in the morning.

He grabbed a jacket and climbed down from the top bunk, intending to return the draft, only to find Jiang Tian still asleep, facing the wall.

Jiang Tian usually woke up early, so sleeping in was unusual.

Sheng Wang leaned over, quietly asking, “Are you awake?”

Jiang Tian frowned slightly, responding in a low voice, “Yeah.”

After a while, he opened his eyes, turned to sit up, and asked, “What time is it?”

Instead of checking the time, Sheng Wang studied his face for a moment, asking, “Are you feeling unwell?”

Jiang Tian knew his own body best. He had actually woken up around 5 a.m., feeling extremely thirsty and cold, so he went to the kitchen for a cup of hot water.

He thought sleeping it off would help, but it worsened by morning, even making his eyes dry and painful.

It was the first time Sheng Wang saw Jiang Tian like this. His skin had turned pale, his hair disheveled over his forehead, half-covering his eyes. Through the messy strands, Sheng Wang could see his tightly furrowed brows.

He suspected Jiang Tian had a fever, but there was no thermometer in the dorm. So he leaned in to compare their foreheads.

Jiang Tian seemed to sense his movement, half-opening his eyes, hesitating for a moment before instinctively pulling away. His voice was hoarse, “Stay back, you’ll catch it.”

“Catch what? I’m just checking if you have a fever.” Sheng Wang stubbornly pressed his forehead against Jiang Tian’s, feeling the heat.

“Why such a sudden fever?” Sheng Wang straightened up, hurriedly grabbing the campus map from the logistics teacher, anxiously searching for the infirmary.

Jiang Tian sat at the bedside for a moment, saying, “Maybe I got up too early yesterday.”

“That shouldn’t be it.” Sheng Wang said, suddenly recalling the teachers’ casual remarks from last night. He remembered the faint steam in the bathroom before Jiang Tian showered, and his page-flipping paused abruptly.

He looked at the redness in Jiang Tian’s eyes, asking, “Did you shower without hot water yesterday?”

Jiang Tian didn’t look up, rubbing his temples, his cracked lips moving slightly, “I did.”

Liar.

Sheng Wang thought.

The teacher said a successful speaker can stir emotions, make people feel deeply, make them laugh or cry, fill their hearts with indescribable feelings.

But Jiang Tian was different.

He didn’t need to say a word to achieve all of that.