Chapter 10 - Deeply In Love With You [Quick Transmigration]

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well. I have decided to pick up a second Quick Transmigration novel. This time, the gong is the MC and I hope you appreciate this novel as much as I do.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters, or puchase advanced chapters on Gumroad. (40% discount code: DILWY)

Clingy

 

 

Trying not to laugh was proving to be a real struggle. Lin Heng finally let out a small chuckle.

 

"You think it's that funny?" Zong Que turned to him, raising a brow.

 

Lin Heng wiped the smile from his face, straightening his post. "No. Not funny at all."

 

But the laughter still danced in his eyes, impossible to hide just by flattening his lips.

 

The May heat was setting in. Even with fans running, the classroom air at night wasn't pleasant—some students occasionally pinched their noses while doing homework. Only Zong Que's seat by the window had decent airflow.

 

"The window seat really is the best—warm in winter, cool in summer." Wang Yang turned back right as class ended, trying to strike up a conversation. "You really picked a good one."

 

Unfortunately, Lin Heng might toss him a word or two, but Zong Que didn't even spare him a glance.

 

After evening self-study, students burst out of the classroom like a tide, rushing to claim one of the limited spots in the bathhouse.

 

"Hey, what's the rush? Just rinse off in the water room wearing swim shorts—faster than taking a full bath," Wang Yang rambled, while Lin Heng and Zong Que had already slipped out the door without looking back. "Hey! Wait for me!"

 

Zong Que was hurrying for a good spot in the bathhouse. Lin Heng just couldn't stand the suffocating feeling of a whole day's sweat clinging to him like dust, so they quickly said goodbye and headed off campus.

 

Boys usually moved fast. The sound of water splashing echoed from each stall, thick with steam—no one could really see anyone else.

 

Zong Que was rinsing shampoo from his hair, eyes still closed, when he suddenly heard a knock from the adjacent stall.

 

He slicked the water from his face and opened his eyes to see a familiar arm propped over the partition. Wang Yang was peering over like a perv. "Something you need?"

 

Their eyes met. Wang Yang grinned sheepishly. "Que-ge, I just wanted to say—I wasn't calling you old earlier. Look at you! You've got an eight-pack! Damn, eight-pack abs!"

 

Before the others could glance over, Zong Que clapped a hand over his mouth, releasing him only after attention had passed.

 

"I actually came to apologize," Wang Yang scratched his head. "Can you believe that?"

 

Zong Que stared at him silently and replied with just three words: "I'm showering."

 

"Oh…" Wang Yang looked utterly lost.

 

...

 

"I was wrong, I was wrong, I was so wrong, Que-ge!" Wang Yang was stumbling along with his back bent, neck trapped in Zong Que's one-handed grip. "I was praising your eight-pack! Come on, stop—stop! We just got out of the shower and you're already getting me all sweaty again. It's not worth it!"

 

His words were nonsense, but they weren't wrong. Zong Que let go and said, "Stop spreading it around."

 

If he let Wang Yang go unchecked, the whole class would know tomorrow. And the whole school by the next day.

 

"Stuff like this…" Wang Yang met his eyes and instantly raised a hand in vow. "Got it! I swear I won't tell anyone. If I do, I'm a dog."

 

"Mm." As long as he kept it quiet, that was good enough for Zong Que.

 

...

 

"Hey, guess what? Zong Que has an eight-pack." Wang Yang waited until Zong Que had gone to the bathroom, then leaned over Lin Heng's desk and whispered.

 

Lin Heng's pen froze mid-stroke, accidentally adding a streak to the character. He looked slightly stunned. "How do you know that?"

 

"We were next to each other last night in the bathhouse, duh. No wonder the guy hits so hard—pure muscle power." Wang Yang squeezed his own arm, barely producing a bump. "Too bad I don't have abs. If I did, I'd show 'em off too."

 

Lin Heng: "…"

 

"Why don't you ask him how he trains? How he manages to look that good without looking bulky?" Wang Yang rolled down his sleeve.

 

"I think you should ask him yourself." Lin Heng glanced down the hallway and moved his eyebrows.

 

"Are your eyes uncomfortable?" Wang Yang asked, concerned. Then he sighed. "It's just that Que-ge is super shy. He didn't even want me telling anyone."

 

Lin Heng looked past him: "…"

 

"Now your eye's twitching?" Wang Yang asked.

 

Lin Heng gave up, pointing behind him with his pen. Wang Yang turned, and the movement slowed frame by frame, his smile fading into one of heroic resignation. "Que-ge… when did you get back from the bathroom?"

 

Damn it. The heavens were out to get him.

 

Zong Que's voice was calm. "Right when you said you should ask how I train."

 

The calmer he was, the more terrifying it felt. Wang Yang glanced at Lin Heng and coughed, "But Lin Heng's not an outsider."

 

"Mm." Zong Que replied softly.

 

"Exactly, right?" Wang Yang let out a relieved breath—until he saw Zong Que wasn't leaving. So he took the initiative: "Woof woof, I'm a puppy."

 

Zong Que's gaze softened as he patted his head. "Good boy."

 

He returned to his seat. Wang Yang stood there in disbelief, rubbing his head. "What the hell! I'm not a dog, you are—mmph…"

 

The words were swallowed before they could escape.

 

"Pfft." Lin Heng couldn't help but laugh. "Of all people, you just had to pick him to mess with."

 

"I mean, I'm just jealous, okay? Don't tell me you're not."

 

The bell rang, calling everyone back to their seats. The classroom fell quiet in an instant.

 

The teacher hadn't shown up yet. Lin Heng was flipping through his book when Wang Yang's earlier comment came back to mind. His gaze drifted toward Zong Que.

 

Zong Que used to slouch in his chair with an air of arrogance, but now his posture was upright and disciplined. He wore a loose black T-shirt, his arms long and lean where they peeked from the sleeves—not bulky, but still strong. You could just faintly see the trace of veins under his skin when he tensed, elegant rather than intimidating.

 

His waist and abs were hidden by the shirt, but Lin Heng had seen them—just a glimpse during a basketball pass. He hadn't paid much attention at the time, but now that he thought about it… they really had looked smooth and well-defined. But an eight-pack? Really?

 

His gaze lingered, and just as he was about to look away, the fabric next to him shifted. He glanced up—and locked eyes with Zong Que.

 

His brain stalled. A soft heat crept up his cheeks. That awkward, caught-red-handed feeling was something he rarely experienced. "Um…"

 

"What?" Zong Que asked quietly.

 

"Do you… really have an eight-pack?" Lin Heng tightened his grip on his pen. For a second, he suspected something had knocked his brain loose. He'd meant to say, your shirt's wrinkled.

 

For a fleeting moment, he finally understood Wang Yang's favorite line: I wanna move to another planet.

 

"Mm," Zong Que answered simply.

 

It wasn't something he felt embarrassed about sharing with another guy.

 

"How'd you get them?" Lin Heng asked, his voice tinged with quiet defeat.

 

Zong Que wasn't quite sure why his emotions were swinging so wildly. "I didn't train for them on purpose. Just ran a lot, played ball—it showed up."

 

"Oh. Thanks." Lin Heng managed to shake off some of the awkwardness and, noticing the class growing restless, said, "The teacher isn't here yet. Let's all start previewing the lesson."

 

The classroom calmed down. His eyes lingered on Zong Que's composed face for a moment before he finally looked away, comforted by his lack of reaction.

 

This… probably counted as a pass.

 

Wang Yang leaned over and nudged Lin Heng's textbook with a whisper: "Hey…"

 

Did you ask him?

 

"Turn around or I'll write your name down," Lin Heng said, his tone ice-cold.

 

So cold, in fact, that Wang Yang was struck dumb, genuinely questioning whether someone had swapped out their class rep. He turned around obediently.

 

They say you become who you surround yourself with. It wasn't that Lin Heng had mellowed Zong Que out—but that Que-ge had made Lin Heng colder.

 

That chill held until the homeroom teacher entered the room, wearing a stern expression instead of starting class.

 

"Liao Yan, come outside for a moment."

 

All eyes turned as Liao Yan got up and followed the teacher out.

 

A brief stir passed through the classroom. The teacher said, "This self-study period—Lin Heng, you're in charge of discipline."

 

"Okay." Lin Heng grabbed his notebook and sat at the teacher's desk.

 

This time, everyone got the message—if you broke the rules, your name would go on the list.

 

Zong Que paused with his pen midair, glancing toward the podium where the boy sat, head lowered over his book.

 

The gears of fate had begun to turn.

 

One of the key turning points was this: Liao Yan's mother had been severely injured and hospitalized. The school held a donation drive. Lin Heng gave the most. Afterward, he quietly asked his parents to donate a large sum under the name of a charitable foundation.

 

But when wealth shows in front of the wrong people, it's bound to attract trouble.

 

A soft cough came from the podium. Zong Que looked up, just in time to see the boy gesturing toward him. Zong Que lowered his head again, continuing to read.

 

Liao Yan never came back after that. The other classes went on as usual, unaffected by one student's absence.

 

"I wonder what happened. Missing this many classes already," someone whispered.

 

"At this pace, it's going to be hard to catch up."

 

"Isn't early admission partly based on regular exam performance, too?"

 

Zong Que glanced at the person beside him, who was carefully organizing detailed notes and sample problems based on what the teacher had covered. He knew then—Liao Yan wouldn't fall behind so easily.

 

Lin Heng's kindness wasn't just reserved for him. Doing this would make Liao Yan a stronger contender for the top ranks, which was technically not in Lin Heng's best interest. But, just like he'd said before—some things, you do not because they benefit you, but simply because they're right.

 

"Are those for Liao Yan?" Zong Que asked.

 

Lin Heng looked up. "Mm. I don't know what's going on, but falling behind in class would only make it worse."

 

"How do you plan to give them to him?" Zong Que asked.

 

"That depends." Lin Heng said quietly. "Right now, I really don't know."

 

"If you're going out, I'll come with you," Zong Que said.

 

What this person chose to do was his own business. What Zong Que had taken upon himself was his safety.

 

Lin Heng blinked, then leaned in a bit. "You're not planning to sneak off to an internet café, are you?"

 

Zong Que stared at him in silence.

 

Lin Heng chuckled. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're reformed. But still—we'll see how things go. If it really is family trouble, he probably doesn't want everyone knowing about it."

 

Liao Yan came from a modest background, but his pride was something everyone in class could see. If it really was a family matter, giving the notes privately would be best.

 

"I don't have to see him," Zong Que replied.

 

In other words—he was going no matter what.

 

Lin Heng gave him a look, then murmured, "Didn't expect you to be the clingy type once you made a friend. Don't worry, even though I'm giving him notes, you're still my best friend."

 

Zong Que: "…"

 

Fine. Let him think that.

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