My straight roommate is so good

Although Qiao Song had never dared to tell Ling Jianshu that he was gay, he felt much more at ease since their last conversation. 

Now, he no longer had to worry about being seen with him or about their photos being posted on forums. 

With a major worry lifted, he felt particularly relaxed and his interactions with his roommates improved.

However, he had noticed something recently.

It might have been his imagination, but he felt that Cheng Yuan and Liu Junming seemed to be getting closer. Often, these two would avoid him and Ling Jianshu, acting alone.

As a newcomer, he didn’t understand the nuances and chose not to comment. 

The only thing he could do was to go along with things, spending more time with Ling Jianshu and disturbing Cheng Yuan and Liu Junming less.

Weeks passed, and everything seemed fine. He refocused on his piano practice.

The third year of college was the busiest, and this was no different for art students. 

His piano teacher, Bonocheva, was a hot-tempered Russian woman. The number of students she had scolded to tears in the piano department at Lan City University was countless.

But this did not prevent everyone from affectionately calling her “Sister Bo,” nor did it stop her from being voted as the most beloved teacher in the piano department for several years in a row.

Because she was indeed very skilled, and her criticisms were always on point. Getting scolded by her could lead to a lot of improvement.

However, Sister Bo had always been very gentle with Qiao Song.

He put great effort into his practice, and the quality of his lessons was always high. Moreover, with his delicate appearance, she found it hard to scold such a handsome young man.

The first time he was scolded since starting college was just last week.

Due to moving dormitories, his practice schedule was disrupted, and he made mistakes three times in a piece during the lesson. So, it was understandable that Sister Bo got angry.

Fortunately, he had regained his touch and state over the past few days.

She assigned him Tchaikovsky’s “The Seasons” for practice.

The suite has twelve pieces, and she asked him to pick one to practice.

After listening to all of them, Qiao Song chose his favorite, “The Barcarolle.”

As an excellent representative of the Romantic style, “The Barcarolle” hit his heart perfectly with its form and melody.

He became quite absorbed in his practice, staying late in the practice room every day.

On Friday night, as the art building was closing, the security guard came to usher everyone out.

He stubbornly played one last time before reluctantly closing the piano.

He was about to leave when he unexpectedly saw Ling Jianshu leaning casually against the practice room door, looking at him with a slight smile in his dark, narrow eyes.

He smiled back and walked over to ask, “What are you doing here?”

Ling Jianshu met his gaze and replied, “I came to pick you up. It’s raining outside.”

It was the first rain of the autumn in Lan City, and Qiao Song hadn’t checked the weather forecast before leaving, so he didn’t have an umbrella.

He accepted his roommate’s kindness and walked downstairs with him.

The outdoor air was crisp, and the moist water vapor mixed with the smell of fresh grass, refreshing and invigorating.

Ling Jianshu held a large umbrella, intentionally tilting it towards Qiao Song.

He protected Qiao Song well, though his own shoulder was occasionally damp from the rain blown by the wind.

Qiao Song noticed this and moved a little closer to him.

Ling Jianshu misunderstood and asked, “Are you feeling a bit cold?”

Qiao Song shook his head. “Not cold. I just want to be closer so the umbrella can cover both of us.”

Ling Jianshu glanced down and saw there was still a ten-centimeter gap between them, so he softly said, “Then you can move a bit closer.”

Qiao Song obediently moved a few more inches.

“Is it better now?” he asked.

Ling Jianshu didn’t answer directly but said, “My shoulder is still getting wet.”

Qiao Song seriously suggested, “How about I hold… your arm?”

He lowered his voice, feeling nervous since his suggestion involved physical contact with a straight guy, which might make him uncomfortable.

But the next second, Ling Jianshu responded readily, “Okay.”

He was taken aback for a moment, looking up at him.

Ling Jianshu calmly met his gaze, his face as composed as usual, without any signs of joking.

Having suggested it himself, Qiao Song couldn’t back out and had to bravely wrap his arm around his arm.

The autumn rain was chilly, but the boy beside him had a warm body temperature.

The streetlights on either side were quiet and gentle, illuminating the slanted rain like golden threads scattered across the sky and ground.

The light from behind cast their shadows on the damp ground in front of them, merging into one.

Under the umbrella, two tall figures stood closely together.

Qiao Song looked at the scene and found it artistically pleasing.

Fortunately, there were no people around at this time. Otherwise, if someone took a picture, the “Lawsuit CP” would probably take over the forum the next day.

“Qiao Song,” Ling Jianshu’s voice broke his train of thought.

He snapped back to reality and looked at the boy beside him, “Hmm?”

Ling Jianshu pursed his lips and asked abruptly, “Did you do this with your previous roommates too?”

“… Huh?” Qiao Song thought for a moment and answered honestly, “No.”

Ling Jianshu: “Only with me?”

“Yeah,” Qiao Song, being precise, added, “At least so far, only with you.”

Ling Jianshu nodded, and when Qiao Song looked away, he faintly smiled.

Qiao Song’s gaze fell back on their overlapping shadows.

Unable to resist, he asked Ling Jianshu, “Why the sudden curiosity?”

Ling Jianshu replied, “Just a bit curious.”

He asked again, “Curious about what, artist?”

Ling Jianshu shook his head with a smile, “Not about the art.”

But about you.

However, he felt it wasn’t the right time to say that.

So, before Qiao Song could ask more, he changed the subject.

“By the way, what piece were you playing just now?”

Qiao Song, momentarily thrown off by the shift in topic, responded after a moment, “Tchaikovsky’s ‘The Barcarolle.’ Do you like it?”

Ling Jianshu honestly said, “I don’t know much about classical music, but it sounded nice when you played it.”

Qiao Song was pleased, “If you like it, I’ll try to book a grand piano this weekend and play it for you.”

Ling Jianshu didn’t expect such treatment and, pleasantly surprised, said, “I thought someone who understands music wouldn’t want to play such a great piece for someone like me who doesn’t know much about music.”

Qiao Song explained seriously, “I don’t deny that some people might do that, but I don’t agree with that approach. I believe music isn’t just about ‘understanding,’ but about listening and feeling. If you enjoy it, that’s what matters.”

Ling Jianshu looked into his amber eyes and continued, “You’re different from other art students I’ve met.”

Qiao Song said, “Maybe everyone has a different understanding of music.”

Ling Jianshu shook his head, “Not just that. The bigger difference is, I can feel your love for the piano.”

He was right. Not all piano students truly love playing the piano.

Many students follow their parents’ wishes, showing no emotion while playing Czerny’s 599 exercises in childhood and still no emotion while playing the “Four Seasons” as adults.

But Qiao Song was different.

He adored Tchaikovsky’s romance, the rigor of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier, Mozart’s liveliness, and Beethoven’s grandeur.

He genuinely loved piano performance and the act of playing itself.

Qiao Song smiled up at him, “Were you being too modest earlier when you said you didn’t understand music? You can hear the emotions in the music, which is rare.”

Ling Jianshu appreciated the compliment, but he restrained his pleasure and joked, “Only you would say that. If it were someone else, I’d think they were trying to sell me piano lessons.”

Qiao Song’s eyes lit up, and he asked eagerly, “Do you want to learn the piano? I can teach you for free.”

Ling Jianshu answered without hesitation, “No thanks, I don’t want to.”

Qiao Song: “………”

He was crazy to waste such a wonderful opportunity on a completely tone-deaf straight guy!

He was speechless.

But Ling Jianshu looked at his exasperated expression and grinned mischievously.

Playing with an artist is really fun.