DMMB Chapter 8

[Wish Task: Sleep with the person you hate most.]

Sleep?

Sleep what, exactly?!

Sheng Yan’s pupils dilated in shock.

In That Novel About the Guy Who Got a Wish System and Reached the Peak of His Life, the tasks were all things like improving someone’s affection level, doing heroic deeds, or learning new skills.
So why was his first mission about… selling his body?!

Was this even a proper app anymore?!

He quickly typed a furious message in the feedback section.

Three seconds later, the system calmly replied:

[Please don’t overthink it, dear host. It only refers to literal, ordinary sleep.]

Sheng Yan: “……”

Oh.

He felt a little embarrassed.

But even literal sleeping together was awkward as hell!

He didn’t even have to think about who he hated most, of course it was Qin Zigui.

After the mess they’d gotten into today, and after Qin Zigui personally told him to keep his distance, how could he just trot over there now to say, “Hey, let’s sleep together”?
That would be humiliating.

No way he was doing that.

…but if he didn’t, the task wouldn’t be complete, which meant he’d have to hand-copy more than eight thousand characters of the student handbook himself…

He hesitated briefly.

Then, with grim determination, Sheng Yan stood up, grabbed the air conditioner remote, switched it to heating mode, popped out the batteries, swapped them with ones from an old alarm clock, picked up his pillow, and marched across the hall to stand in front of Qin Zigui’s door.

Knock, knock.

The door opened quickly.

Qin Zigui was already in pajamas. His black hair fell naturally and smoothly, a pair of silver-rimmed glasses resting on his straight nose. Compared to his daytime self, he looked a little gentler.

But only a little.

Still pretentious as ever, Sheng Yan thought darkly.

Qin Zigui looked down at him. “What is it?”

Sheng Yan peeked past him, the desk lamp was still on, books and papers spread all over the table. “You’re still up?”

Qin Zigui leaned lazily against the doorframe. “You’re not asleep either.”

As if he didn’t know why!

Sheng Yan huffed. “No kidding. You ever try copying over ten thousand characters from the student handbook?”

Then, raising his chin with forced confidence, he said, “My air conditioner’s broken. I’m crashing in your room tonight.”

Qin Zigui’s eyes flicked toward the opposite room.

Sheng Yan felt a pang of guilt.

Thankfully, Qin Zigui soon looked away, stepped aside, and said coolly, “Make sure you wear an eye mask and earplugs.”

“…?”

Qin Zigui motioned toward his desk. “I’ll be studying late. You won’t be able to sleep without them, will you?”

…He probably wouldn’t.

Because just the sight of studying made Sheng Yan’s head buzz painfully.

Out of sheer self-preservation as an academic disaster, he reluctantly nodded. “Fine.”

Then he lifted his leg to walk in, brimming with the air of a sovereign bestowing rare favor upon a subject: You should be honored I’m even gracing your room with my presence.

But as soon as he took a step—

Gurgle.

His stomach growled.

Sheng Yan froze in embarrassment.

Qin Zigui glanced at his stomach, then turned, opened a small fridge in his room, and placed a cake box on the desk.

Sheng Yan peeked at it, durian mille crepe, his absolute favorite.

And from that bakery, too — the one with impossible waiting lines. Where did Qin Zigui even get it?

As if reading his mind, Qin Zigui said casually, “Stopped by after class tonight.”

“Oh.”

Sheng Yan stole another glance.

But wait wasn’t Qin Zigui the one who always said durian stinks?

Before he could ask, Qin Zigui added, “I bought it for you.”

“Huh?”

Sheng Yan looked up, momentarily stunned.

Qin Zigui lowered his head, carefully unwrapping the durian mille crêpe.
“I was worried you wouldn’t have much appetite tonight,” he said calmly. “I actually bought it for you to eat tomorrow morning, but since you’re hungry now, go ahead and eat it.”

Sheng Yan: “???”

Was when to eat really the point here?

No! The point was why on earth was Qin Zigui giving him cake?!

And not just any cake, one he specifically went out to buy!

No good deed comes without strings attached.

Sheng Yan eyed him suspiciously. “Qin Zigui, what kind of scheme are you plotting this time?”

Qin Zigui didn’t deny it. “I am plotting something.”

Sheng Yan wasn’t surprised. He was about to scoff when Qin Zigui pushed the unwrapped cake toward him.
“To make it up to you.”

Sheng Yan: “Hen… huh?”

To what?
To who?
Why?

He stared blankly.

Was Qin Zigui possessed or something?!

But Qin Zigui didn’t look like he was joking. “Because I covered for you when you skipped class and got into a fight, I got chewed out by Teacher Huang. They even revoked my ‘Exemplary Student’ title. Then… other things happened. I drank that night, said some hurtful things I shouldn’t have. That was my fault. Ah Yan, I’m sorry.”

“Other things” that must have meant Lin Qian.

Sheng Yan didn’t think much of it.

But — seriously? That’s it?!

That was the grand reason they’d been cold to each other for a whole year?!

He was one step away from smacking Qin Zigui’s face with a dozen “JUST THIS???” memes.

So this so-called golden boy, raised under constant praise, had an ego so fragile that losing an award and a girl’s affection made him implode?

Well, fine, maybe it made sense, Qin Zigui did seem to really like Lin Qian. For a model student like him to skip class and get into fights over a girl… he must’ve fallen hard.

And yeah, losing that “Exemplary Student” title might’ve hurt. Understandable.

Except— what nonsense!

So only he could have pride? Only he got to have feelings?

When he said those cold, cruel words back then, couldn’t he have cooled off later and come to explain?

If Sheng Yan hadn’t finally snapped and forced the issue today, was Qin Zigui planning to wait until he was on his deathbed, pulling out an oxygen tube, before saying sorry?

Who even wanted his apology anymore?

Did he really think Sheng Yan was still that kid who’d melt for a slice of cake?

Keep dreaming, you delusional ancient sage.

With fiery dignity, Sheng Yan let out a cold snort.
“Thanks, but no thanks. I said if you explained yourself, I wouldn’t argue another word, and I meant it. So do me a favor and carve your ‘We’re not the same kind of people, better to keep our distance and go separate ways’ line into your DNA so I don’t have to look like I’m dying to be friends with you.”

Then he threw his pillow to the innermost side of the bed, shoved in earplugs, yanked down his eye mask, wrapped himself in the blanket, turned to face the wall, and said nothing.

Cold, heartless as if the guy who’d clung to him last night, teary-eyed and soft-voiced, begging to “be good together forever,” wasn’t even him.

…Still angry, clearly.

Or maybe not angry….. hurt.

Qin Ru had said it before: Sheng Yan had always been softhearted and easy to coax, never one to hold a grudge.

But what she didn’t know was that Sheng Yan was deeply sentimental, quick to forgive when angry, but when hurt, he’d stay sad for a long, long time.

That was exactly why Qin Zigui had said such cold words before.

He remembered that night at the KTV last year, Sheng Yan’s face twisted in disgust as he snapped at Zhu Peng and Gou You:
“Two guys doing that kind of thing? Disgusting.”

Qin Zigui’s eyes dropped.

The first time he realized his feelings for Sheng Yan weren’t ordinary friendship was back in first year of high school when he had a dream he shouldn’t have had.

He’d thought it was a one-time accident.
But after that, the emotions he shouldn’t have felt only grew stronger.

And when he overheard Lin Qian confessing to Sheng Yan, that instant surge of jealousy and possessiveness made everything clear.

He liked Sheng Yan in that way.

For a boy just awakening to such feelings, it was a huge shock.
He hadn’t even had time to process it when, moments later, he heard Sheng Yan say,
“Two guys doing that kind of thing? Disgusting.”

At that moment, Qin Zigui had only one thought:
He never wanted Sheng Yan to look at him with disgust.

But he wasn’t sure that, if they kept staying this close, he’d be able to keep hiding how he felt.

And in his mind, Sheng Yan was someone who should live a charmed life, growing up surrounded by love, finding a wonderful girl, getting married, having children, living peacefully and happily to old age.
Not walking a path that would expose him to prejudice and pain.

So he said it “Sheng Yan, we’re not the same kind of people.”

He’d thought that was the right choice.
He hadn’t expected Sheng Yan to care so deeply, to be this hurt.

Hurt enough to cling to him like a child, drunk and crying, refusing to let go, saying he wanted to stay with “Brother Zigui” forever, leaving Qin Zigui guilt-ridden, heart aching, coaxing him through the whole night.

Only for him to wake up the next day proud and sharp-tongued, pretending nothing happened.

What a little drama king.

With such a temper.

Qin Zigui glanced at the puff of messy hair poking out from under the blanket, clearly fuming, and couldn’t help but lower his head and laugh softly.

Fine. He’d just have to try harder.

Hide his feelings better. Control himself. Be careful.

Coax the little master back into a good mood and everything could go back to how it used to be. They could still be the best of friends.

As long as Sheng Yan never felt wronged.

Thinking that, Qin Zigui gently rewrapped the durian mille crêpe and put it back in the fridge.

Someone would definitely want to eat it later.

But it was too late now, he’d get indigestion.

So, better to save it for tomorrow.

Meanwhile, the certain someone lying stiffly under the blanket, wearing an eye mask and earplugs, waiting for Qin Zigui to keep coaxing him…..waited and waited and waited.

No one came.

And he got very, very angry.

Does Qin Zigui even know how to comfort someone?

Couldn’t he have said a few more nice words?

Too proud for his own good, Sheng Yan could only wrap himself tightly in the blanket, clench his fists, and curl up in a corner, forcing himself to fall asleep to conquer his hunger. All night, he dreamt about durian crepe cakes and didn’t even notice when Qin Zigui had gone to bed.

When he woke up, he found himself lying sprawled in a big “X” right in the middle of Qin Zigui’s bed, not leaving a single inch of space for anyone else. Qin Zigui’s pillow also looked untouched.

So… Qin Zigui didn’t sleep with him last night?
Did that mean he didn’t complete the task?

Realizing this, Sheng Yan jumped up, slipped on his slippers, and ran back to his own room. He grabbed the notebook on his desk and flipped through it anxiously.

One page, two pages, three pages…..completely filled. A total of 13,647 characters, including punctuation all copied neatly, and all in his own handwriting.

For a moment, Sheng Yan was so shocked he doubted reality itself.

Just by sleeping with Qin Zigui… the entire student handbook — eight to nine thousand words was finished? And all in his handwriting? Could this app really be that powerful?

He still couldn’t quite believe it.

Pulling out his phone, he opened the Dreams Come True app. Inside the virtual garden, a pot of white daisies had bloomed, a tiny angel was watering them with its little bottom sticking out, while a kitten circled around playfully.

As soon as Sheng Yan entered the app, a sound effect played, the garden gate creaked open. The angel, kitten, and flower all turned their heads toward him, tilted them adorably, and smiled with crescent-shaped eyes.

That moment… Sheng Yan admitted he was a little charmed.

But he quickly realized, this was not an app for macho men.
And that wasn’t the point anyway.

The point was, if everything before could still be explained as coincidence, this time there was no way it was.
No coincidence could ever be this exact.

There was only one explanation…..

The app was real.
The wishing system was real.

And that meant the novel-like future where he’d defeat the top student, crush the student council president, and rise to glory, was also real!

If he just made the right wishes, completed the tasks, and kept leveling up, then his dream of going from last place in the grade to number one, slapping Huang Shuliang’s smug face, and erasing double standards from the world… would no longer be a dream!

His good days were finally coming!

Feeling a rush of blood and confidence, Sheng Yan’s spirit soared like a hot-blooded shonen protagonist with his theme music blasting and divine light shining behind him, ready to conquer Jump Magazine itself!

He grabbed his phone and almost ran out to share the news with Qin Zigui, but halfway through, he suddenly stopped.

He couldn’t tell Qin Zigui.
Not because of a confidentiality clause
But because he was still mad at him.

He couldn’t let Qin Zigui think he was still that easy to coax, or the guy would never realize how wrong he’d been last night.

Besides, Sheng Yan was now a principled, mature man, calm and composed. He had to show Qin Zigui that he was no longer the same kid who used to be scolded and bossed around.

So he stopped, cleared his throat, walked to the bathroom, washed up, got dressed, and tidied his hair. Then, putting on what he thought was a “mature and successful man’s” air, he slowly made his way to the dining room.

Qin Ru was pouring milk in the kitchen. Seeing him from afar, she asked curiously,
“Zigui, why is Sheng Yan walking around like a proud little rooster this early? Did something good happen?”

“Maybe.”

Qin Zigui lowered his eyes and placed durian crepe cake, cherry tomatoes, and a boiled egg on Sheng Yan’s little yellow chick plate, his tone sounded rather pleasant.

So… had the two of them made up?

But judging from Sheng Yan’s puffed-up, battle-ready look, that didn’t seem right either.

Qin Ru frowned slightly in confusion, but she didn’t ask more. She’d watched these two grow up together, they spent more time together than both families combined. Even if they fought, it never lasted long. No point in worrying.

“But Zigui, why are your eyes so red? And you’ve got dark circles too. Did you not sleep well last night?” she asked with concern.

“It’s nothing. I just studied a bit late yesterday. Don’t worry, Auntie,” Qin Zigui replied calmly.

“I see.”

Hearing that, Qin Ru didn’t know what else to say.

Since he was a child, Qin Zigui had always been the responsible one, the best at everything, never giving the adults cause to worry. When she and Jiang Ping were too busy with work to notice if he ate or got sick, he never complained, just quietly took care of himself.

Even now, Qin Ru often felt that Qin Zigui wasn’t quite like a younger generation. She couldn’t bring herself to scold or lecture him, only to say gently,
“Then rest early tonight, okay? Studying is never more important than your health, got it?”

“Mm, got it, Xia… Sheng Yan.”

Qin Zigui had just started to reply when he caught Sheng Yan sneaking open the fridge and pulling out a cold bottle of Coke. Without thinking, his brow furrowed.
“Don’t drink cold stuff in the morning.”

Sheng Yan froze mid-action.

Slowly turning his head to face the four watchful eyes on him, he reluctantly put the Coke back.
“Alright, alright, I get it, Little Qin Zigui.”

So petty, his revenge streak really ran deep.

Qin Zigui placed the plate in front of him.
“Eat breakfast.”

“I don’t need you to— huh?”

Durian crepe cake?

Sheng Yan paused when he saw the familiar piece of cake on his little yellow chick plate.

He’d thought that after how rude he was last night, Qin Zigui would’ve thrown away the “stinky cake” he’d insulted.

Turns out he hadn’t thrown it away.

And it was perfectly preserved, not even the slightest bit of fridge odor.

Feigning disdain, Sheng Yan picked up his fork and took a small bite. His already good mood brightened even more, though he only said haughtily, “It’s… passable.”

“If it’s passable, then hurry and eat. Otherwise, if you’re late again, Huang Shuliang will scold you,” Qin Zigui said while deftly peeling the boiled egg on Sheng Yan’s plate.

Sheng Yan nodded with satisfaction. “Didn’t expect our Young Master Qin to be an egg-killing expert.”

Expressionless, Qin Zigui placed the peeled egg back onto his plate. “Mm. And I didn’t expect our Young Master Sheng to be a cat.”

Sheng Yan, who had almost forgotten last night’s humiliating “meow” incident being caught red-handed: “…”

Not physically painful but emotionally devastating.

Instantly losing his mood to banter, Sheng Yan jabbed his fork viciously into his food, imagining every piece on the plate as Qin Zigui’s face. Bite after bite, he devoured it all like a feral cat on the hunt.

In the end, he actually made it to class right on time.

“Oh my god, Yan-ge, you’re not late today?!” Zhu Peng looked up from the back row, so shocked he forgot to bite into his bun.

Sheng Yan gave him a lazy side glance, dropped his bag on the desk, and sat down. “Don’t make it sound like I’m late every day.”

He wasn’t that bad at most, once or twice a week.

“But today’s different!” Zhu Peng swallowed his half-chewed bun with effort. “Didn’t you go after the enemy last night? Usually after that kind of mission, you sleep in the next day to ‘recharge your energy.’”

Sheng Yan’s good mood instantly soured at the mention of last night’s “pursuit.”

If it weren’t for Qin Zigui, he would’ve already captured the culprit by now.
Now he’d have to try his luck again tonight in the backstreet, if he could even find them.

But Zhu Peng didn’t notice his irritation, still gossiping with a mouthful of bread:
“Hey, by the way, Yan-ge, did you hear?”

“What?” Sheng Yan rummaged through his bag without looking up.

“About Qin Zigui,” Zhu Peng said, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

Sheng Yan looked up, frowning slightly.

“I heard Qin Zigui went to fight those guys who harassed Lin Qian last night,” Zhu Peng whispered. “Beat them up real bad. Someone from the vocational school saw it, took photos, and posted them online. Now there are all kinds of rumors ‘hero saving the beauty,’ ‘love rivalry,’ ‘duel for affection,’ even ‘life-and-death battle’—”

“Is gossiping about other guys really that entertaining to you?”

With a loud slam, Sheng Yan dropped the book in his hand onto the desk, startling Zhu Peng so much that his bun fell to the floor.

“Wha—Yan-ge, why are you so mad? This is good news! With all this drama, Qin Zigui’s definitely gonna get punished. You hate him, don’t you?”

“I do hate him,” Sheng Yan snapped impatiently, “so stop bringing him up. Just hearing his name pisses me off. Whether he lives or dies, whether he’s right or wrong, what’s it got to do with me?”

He threw the words down like a challenge and stormed out of the classroom, heading straight for the restroom.

Qin Zigui, the guy who cuts him off every time they argue, who gives half-hearted apologies, who mocked him this morning about that stupid “meow” how could he not be irritated?

It wasn’t that he was angry because of him.
He was just… annoyed by the mere mention of his name.

That’s all.

As Sheng Yan thought this, he reached the restroom door but before he could step inside, he heard two sneering voices coming from within.

“Man, that Qin Zigui, always walking around with that dead-serious face, docking points left and right like he’s some saint. Turns out he’s just a jealous loser who gets into fights over a girl.”

“Hey, don’t say that. He’s the vice principal’s golden boy even if he fights, people probably just worry if he hurt his hand and whether he can still ace the next exam.”

“Hah, you know what? Qin Zigui doesn’t even have parents. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s actually the vice principal’s bastard son.”

“Tsk, when you think about it that way, it’s kinda pitiful, huh? No parents, living under someone else’s roof, always having to watch people’s moods. Guess that’s why insecure people act all high and mighty.”

“All what?”

“Pretentious, man.”

“Damn, true that—hahaha—what the fu—! Sheng Yan! What the hell are you doing?!”

Before the words even finished, one of them was yanked by the collar and slammed hard against the wall. His back hit with a dull thud, pain shooting through his spine as he cried out in shock.

Sheng Yan gripped his collar tighter, muscles tensed, expression cold and unreadable. His voice came out low and sharp as ice:

“Nothing much. Just teaching you that not every tongue is free to wag.”

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