◎Accomplice Psychology◎

Chun Zao was choked up by his question.

Her face then grew slightly warm.

She admitted that under her mother’s watchful eye, she absolutely wouldn’t dare or even think to knock on Yuan Ye’s door to borrow internet.

But situations like last night weren’t the first time, the need still existed, and now someone was willing to help – it was hard not to harbor a glimmer of hope.

Before parting with Yuan Ye, Chun Zao stopped hesitating and agreed to his proposal.

The boy didn’t show obvious triumph or mockery, only replied “I’ll find a chance to give it to you this weekend” before riding away.

Arriving at school, just thinking about this transaction made Chun Zao’s heart race as if she’d just run a hundred meters. Secret excitement and nervousness enveloped her, and she could only transfer these emotions by scratching her ears, chatting with her deskmate, or deliberate reading.

Perhaps this was what accomplice psychology felt like?

After history class, the PE class representative organized the classes to line up for exercises. Students poured out from the classroom door like chocolate beans spilling from an opened bottle.

In an instant, the corridor was crowded with people. The girls’ playful laughter and chatter abruptly stopped with the arrival of their homeroom teacher.

Homeroom teacher Chen Yuru crossed her arms, face cold, “escorting” the two lines of students to the playground.

Today was still very sunny.

The clear sky was washed blue, and only when passing the flower beds could they enjoy a fleeting moment of tree shade.

Light spots danced across the boys’ and girls’ uniforms and the tops of their heads.

Class Three’s formation stopped, turned around and stood at attention. Chun Zao was positioned in the middle section.

Under the blazing sun, she frowned, tucked the annoying loose strands behind her ears, and used her hand as a visor, blocking her forehead to resist the overly rampant ultraviolet rays.

Tong Yue was almost the same height as her, and coincidentally arranged in the same row.

She cherished her complexion like her life. After observing their homeroom teacher, she pulled out a small bottle of sunscreen spray from her pocket, tilted her head down, and sprayed furiously at her face and arms.

Nearby girls tactically dodged, as did Chun Zao.

Tong Yue complained: “Why are you dodging? SPF 50 – getting any on you is pure profit.”

Girls behind them covered their mouths and giggled secretly; some even moved closer, asking her to spray more.

Tong Yue complied, continuing her sprinkler truck behavior.

Their homeroom teacher at the front of the formation shot them a deadly glare, and several girls immediately fell silent like cicadas.

They stayed quiet for less than two seconds before becoming restless again.

The whispered conversations contained the words “Yuan Ye.”

Tong Yue never knew what psychological burden meant, immediately standing on tiptoes and craning her neck, scanning to locate the target.

When a lead sheep appeared in the formation, the rest immediately showed herd mentality. Chun Zao also looked up.

Class One was passing by their left side.

Due to his height, Yuan Ye’s position was relatively toward the back, but everyone could always spot him first.

The boy stood out from the crowd, blindingly white under the sunlight.

Whether intentionally or not, when the two classes intersected, he glanced in Chun Zao’s direction.

Their eyes met, and Chun Zao immediately turned her face away, pretending not to see.

Her heart began performing high-frequency jumping movements.

What was she panicking about?

Chun Zao couldn’t understand herself. Was it because this eye contact was too much like a spy meeting? So she subconsciously acted secretly?

Her eyes weren’t looking anymore, but her ears were more focused than when doing listening comprehension in English exams.

Ten seconds later, Chun Zao decisively gave up. The clear voice was discussing games that sounded like hieroglyphics to her – something about “butterfly knives” and “spray paint.” Chun Zao scratched her temple in confusion.

After the flag-raising ceremony, the morning exercise music began, and a whole playground of blue and white marionettes started moving – some of good quality, some needing to go back to the factory for remanufacturing.

Chun Zao belonged to the middle tier – no obvious mistakes, but somewhat perfunctory. She wasn’t very interested in physical activities, often letting her body move while her brain went blank, silently reciting government agency functions or historical event timelines.

During the torso rotation exercise, Chun Zao caught sight of that superior back of the head.

Yuan Ye had thick black hair and an especially well-formed skull. If there were a class on human anatomy analysis, his brain X-ray would probably be hung on the whiteboard as the optimal example of a “round head.”

Small head, small face, long arms and legs, and very smart and independent.

A genetic lottery winner, a showoff work by Nuwa.

Chun Zao looked away with a sense of imbalance.

—

Over the next week, Chun Zao felt that Yuan Ye in her eyes had become somewhat different.

Although their daily lives hadn’t changed and their level of interaction could only be called “casual acquaintance,” invisible tensions in the air had already wound around like spider silk. Occasional eye contact or encounters would quickly form webs – not necessarily visible to the naked eye, and completely silent, but you knew it was expanding.

This discovery was confirmed on Wednesday before bed. Chun Zao put away her earphone cord and was about to turn off her phone when, possessed by some impulse, she clicked into the wireless network settings.

Chun Zao’s breathing hitched.

That hotspot named “〇” was still on.

The unwavering circle had become like the eye of a cunning feline, pupils dilated, staring at her.

A wave of hunted panic emerged, and Chun Zao quickly exited the wireless network interface.

She stuffed her phone back under the pillow, lying on her side to press it down.

Her cheeks burned, and her heart pounded.

Had Yuan Ye forgotten to turn it off?

No, she had watched him turn it off last time.

Or was he a male bodhisattva? Always remembering to bless his accomplice? Didn’t he say it drained battery… how could he be so inconsistent between knowledge and action?

Naturally, Chun Zao was too embarrassed to use the internet again, and considered whether she should remind him to turn it off to save battery.

But after thinking it over, she concluded that Yuan Ye wasn’t a bodhisattva at all – he was Satan, the source of all evil, using the omnipresent internet and that SIM card to tempt her toward the abyss of corruption.

Chun Zao warned herself.

One card was enough.

When the contraband came into her hands, she would pay Yuan Ye money, then settle this shameful transaction.

Thinking this way, the wait for the weekend became even longer and more unbearable than usual.

—

The second year of high school had two-day weekends. Yuan Ye woke up naturally in the morning, spent the afternoon doing problems at the city library, and at 4:30, he left the library and headed to the nearest subway station.

Among the surging crowd, the tall, slender boy stood steadily, expressionless.

Twenty minutes, five stops, passing through bizarre billboards and staircases, Yuan Ye left the subway station and walked toward his home community.

Stopping at the bottom of a high-rise building, he lit up his phone to check – only five o’clock, no one should be home, so he entered the elevator with peace of mind.

Beep beep—just as he pressed the code lock twice, the door was opened from inside.

Yuan Ye’s left hand fell empty, then dropped back to his side.

The beautiful woman looked somewhat surprised, turning back to call loudly into the house: “Yuan Yi—Yuan Ye is back.”

Yuan’s father, who had been watching sports news, came over at the sound, still forgetting to put down the remote control in his hand, his face showing unexpected joy: “Why didn’t you say in advance that you were coming home?”

While speaking, he fastened the belt he had loosened for relaxation.

Yuan Ye silently kicked off his sneakers, pressed his lips into a line, then looked up to greet them: “Dad, Aunt Cheng.”

“I came back to get something.” He slipped on house slippers.

Yuan Yi looked him up and down: “Let Dad see if you’ve gotten thinner living outside.”

Yuan Ye replied: “I’m fine, not much different from living on campus.”

Cheng Yun looked at the father and son, gently suggesting: “Chuan Chuan’s dad, since Yuan Ye is rarely back and you have time, why don’t we pick up Chuan Chuan later and have dinner together?”

Yuan Yi immediately said, “Good, good, that’s a great suggestion,” then asked Yuan Ye for his opinion.

The boy didn’t object, hummed in agreement, and walked to his bedroom.

He pulled out the leftmost drawer of his desk, brushed aside a pile of data cables, and took out an unopened mobile communication card from the bottom.

He then rummaged through the middle drawer to find another Android phone, plugged it in, tapped his knuckles on the desk, and waited a moment. The phone automatically turned on, and he skillfully inserted the small card, dialing his number.

It wasn’t suspended.

After confirming that network usage also had no problems, he used his phone to top it up with 200 yuan, then removed the small card, put it back in its original plastic seal, pressed it tight, and tucked it into his pants pocket.

Putting everything back on the desk in place, Yuan Ye opened the room door.

Yuan Yi had already turned off the TV, his shirt tail meticulously tucked back into his trousers; Cheng Yun had also put on her handbag, just waiting for him to go out together.

Yuan Youchuan’s art class was on the fourth floor of a large shopping mall not far from home. As soon as they reached the interest class entrance, the impatient little boy immediately broke free from the teacher’s hand, cheering and rushing straight into his mother’s arms.

Cheng Yun lifted him high; Yuan Yi snorted, pretending to be unhappy: “Why don’t you call Daddy?”

Yuan Youchuan crisply called: “Dad!”

Yuan Yi smiled in response, reaching out to pull his younger son to his side.

Yuan Ye stood to one side, bored, with nowhere to rest his gaze, so he stared absent-mindedly at the giant suspended wreath in the center of the mall.

They dined at a hot pot restaurant in the same mall.

A table for four.

Cheng Yun originally wanted to sit with Yuan Youchuan to conveniently watch over his eating. But for some reason, the child insisted on sitting next to his brother, and no amount of coaxing worked, so she had to let him have his way.

After Cheng Yun sat down, she glared at him: “Then you absolutely must not disturb your brother while he’s eating, okay?”

Yuan Youchuan nodded vigorously like a pecking chicken.

Yuan Yi looked at his two handsome sons across from him, sipped his barley tea, and said with a smile: “He must have missed his brother after not seeing him for so long.”

Yuan Ye’s eyelashes cast shadows as he quietly rinsed the bowls and chopsticks for Yuan Youchuan and himself. Only after finishing did he say: “I’ll go prepare the sauce. Anyone want me to bring back a portion?”

Cheng Yun said: “No need, you pick what you like. We’ll get our own when we want something.”

Yuan Ye got up and left the table.

Cheng Yun watched his slender retreating figure and muttered, “Do you think our Chuan Chuan will become as sensible as Yuan Ye in the future?”

Yuan Yi clicked his tongue, glanced at his wife sideways, and shook his head: “With a mother like you, hard to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cheng Yun scolded him, pushing his arm.

Yuan Yi chuckled.

When returning to sit, although Yuan Ye hadn’t brought extra sauce, he carried back a plate full of assorted fruit cuts and snacks.

As soon as he placed it in the center of the table, Yuan Youchuan dragged the whole plate over and began enjoying it enthusiastically.

Yuan Ye raised his eyebrows slightly but said nothing as he sat down.

He single-handedly popped the tabs of the four cans of Sprite beside him, distributing them to everyone.

The broth bubbled, white steam swirling under the dining lights.

Initially, Yuan Youchuan’s emotions were relatively stable, eating continuously with a sip of drink and a piece of cooked meat, but after becoming half-full, he lost interest in food and began thinking up mischief. First, he targeted the sauces on the table, asking for his mom’s, then taking his dad’s, mixing them in the large plate in front of him, using both hands to poke around inside, grabbing, pinching, and kneading until it was a complete mess.

Yuan Yi tried to stop him midway, but to no avail. Seeing that he was having quite a good time “mixing paint,” he stopped interfering.

Yuan Ye gripped his Sprite, about to take a sip.

“Ha!”

Two chubby little hands suddenly pressed onto his T-shirt sleeves.

Yuan Ye froze, looking at the abrupt handprints on his sleeve.

He imperceptibly frowned, reached his arm out to grab the tissue box from inside the table, pulling out two sheets.

“Huh?” Yuan Yi, who had been concentrating on slurping noodles, finally noticed and stopped his chopsticks to ask: “Chuan Chuan, what are you doing?”

“Hehe ha hey! Wow—” Seeing his father’s bigger reaction, the child became even more excited, smearing frantically on Yuan Ye’s arm with lightning speed. When Yuan Ye instinctively pulled back to dodge, he switched locations, spreading the messy sticky sauce all over his waist.

In seconds, the all-white T-shirt became half an ugly graffiti wall.

Yuan Youchuan clapped his hands, proudly admiring his work: “Wow, so beautiful!”

Yuan Ye’s jaw muscles tightened slightly.

But he didn’t explode.

Yuan Yi clicked his tongue in disgust, pretending to be angry: “Yuan Youchuan, how can you get sauce on your brother?”

Cheng Yun had been watching quietly the whole time, only now speaking up: “Chuan Chuan’s dad, don’t be angry with him.”

She then glanced gently at her son: “Chuan Chuan, tell Dad – is it because you just finished art class, so you wanted to paint on your brother? Quick, ask Dad if your painting looks good, then Dad won’t be angry.”

“Yes!” the little boy said energetically: “Dad, does my painting look good?”

After speaking, his hand mischievously slapped Yuan Ye’s shoulder again, looking very pleased with himself.

Yuan Yi was stunned into laughter, his stern father’s authority completely collapsing, not knowing how to respond.

Dad’s smile seemed like a golden immunity token. Yuan Youchuan directly picked up the bowl, grinning wickedly as he tried to wipe it on Yuan Ye.

The child’s laughter was too sharp and unrestrained. The woman at the table behind them turned around to look, and seeing Yuan Ye’s half-ruined clothes, she gasped in surprise and called others to look as well.

Seeing this, Yuan Yi stopped smiling, took the plate from his younger son’s hands, and handed Yuan Ye the warm towel in front of him: “Yuan Ye, wipe yourself off.”

The boy was wiping with tissues, but after a few attempts, he found that the red oil and marinade had already soaked through and couldn’t be cleaned at all, so he put down the tissues and didn’t take the towel from his father: “No need.”

“I’ll go to the bathroom to clean up.” He smiled awkwardly.

Then looking at Yuan Youchuan who was still grabbing at the remaining mess: “I’ll take Chuan Chuan to wash his hands too.”

Yuan Yi frowned, then relaxed: “Alright, it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t come clean. After we finish eating, we’ll go to the second floor to buy a new one. I remember there are many sports brand stores that you boys like.”

Yuan Ye responded “okay,” placed his hands under Yuan Youchuan’s armpits, lifted him to the ground, took his hand and walked away.

The handsome boy leading the child, disheveled in appearance, naturally attracted a lot of attention.

But he showed no unusual expression, only his gaze sweeping over the diners on both sides of the walkway.

The recent “mischief” had elevated the little boy’s mood, and he was still making illogical, meaningless sounds that were extremely grating.

After walking about ten meters, Yuan Ye stopped, bent down, pointed to someone not far away, and said quietly to Yuan Youchuan: “Chuan Chuan, look at that uncle.”

The little boy opened his eyes wide, looking in the direction he indicated.

There sat a hefty man in a white T-shirt with large wing logos on the back and intricate patterns visible on his exposed arms.

Yuan Youchuan blinked his big eyes, looked at his blank arms, then at that man, finding it quite novel.

Yuan Ye spoke gently: “He has paintings on his body. Do you think they’re as beautiful as yours?”

Yuan Youchuan pouted, full of pride and arrogance, the best in the world: “Not beautiful! Mine are much more beautiful!”

Yuan Ye guided patiently: “Then do you want to go help make him more beautiful?”

His hand suddenly went slack.

The little boy ran out eagerly.

Yuan Ye slowly straightened up, wiped the dirt from his fingertips, and watched the annoying monkey head straight for tiger mountain, the corner of his mouth curving upward.

Author’s Note:

Yuan Ye: I’m such a warm guy, thank you for all the recognition in the comments below