Chapter 28 Hidden Thoughts

Song Jingmo’s expression was stern, his voice cold: “You’re an adult. Every decision you make is the best choice after weighing pros and cons. Don’t dress it up with such grandiose words.”

“Likewise, my decisions are purely out of personal selfishness and have nothing to do with anyone else.”

Liao Xubai was momentarily at a loss for words. Indeed, that was true.

The reason Song Jingmo returned to the country was merely an excuse for moral leverage.

By comparison, his own love seemed rather unimpressive.

Villa.

Lu Er lay on the soft, wide bed, staring at the delicate crystal chandelier on the ceiling, restless and unable to sleep.

Liao Xubai’s harsh words pricked at his heart like needles.

“Bottom of the class at University A, couldn’t get into grad school so switched careers, wouldn’t even graduate without Song Jingmo…”

The words were unpleasant, but they were true.

University A gathered top students from all provinces, and geniuses were everywhere.

Even so, every year, 8% of students failed to graduate.

One of his freshmen roommates was the city’s top scholar. After getting admitted to University A, the mayor personally awarded him a scholarship.

But after just a year, he couldn’t handle the enormous gap and chose to drop out.

Lu Er couldn’t even reach the threshold of a genius. Getting into one of the country’s top universities was entirely thanks to Song Jingmo’s tireless tutoring.

During college, the only reason he avoided failing courses was that Song Jingmo humbly accompanied him to class, highlighting the important points.

Because of this, Song Jingmo was often teased by classmates, and professors would scold him out of frustration.

He didn’t even know if Song Jingmo had ever resented him.

Lu Er’s thoughts gradually drifted…

University A.

Monday, 8 a.m., Anatomy class.

Lu Er was so exhausted from staying up all night gaming that he could barely keep his eyes open. He initially considered skipping class, but Song Jingmo wouldn’t allow it. To prevent him from sneaking out, Song Jingmo accompanied him personally.

Helpless, he put on a pair of plain glasses, hoping that dozing off wouldn’t be too noticeable.

Song Jingmo sat beside him, a thick graduate-level textbook open in front of him.

“Next, I’ll call on a student to answer this question.” On the podium, the elderly professor pushed up his glasses and scanned the classroom. “The boy in the white T-shirt and glasses, please.”

Half-asleep, Lu Er raised his head and realized all eyes were on him.

“Please briefly describe the names and functions of the twelve cranial nerves,” the professor said kindly.

Lu Er snapped awake, cold sweat pouring down. He had slept through the entire class—how would he know the cranial nerves?

In a panic, he impulsively removed his glasses and shoved them into Song Jingmo’s hands.

The class erupted; some students were waiting to see a joke.

Song Jingmo remained composed, put on the glasses, stood up, and his clear, cold voice rang out across the classroom:

“The twelve cranial nerves include the olfactory nerve, optic nerve, oculomotor nerve, trochlear nerve, trigeminal nerve, abducens nerve, facial nerve, vestibulocochlear nerve, glossopharyngeal nerve, vagus nerve, accessory nerve, and hypoglossal nerve. Their main functions include…”

Song Jingmo’s answer was thorough and precise, word-for-word with the textbook.

Even the professor nodded in approval and stepped down from the podium to scrutinize him: “Song Jingmo? Weren’t you Professor Wen’s prized disciple? Why are you attending a freshman class?”

Whispers immediately spread through the classroom. Many female students looked at Lu Er and Song Jingmo with excitement in their eyes.

Song Jingmo calmly lied, “Some basic knowledge isn’t very fresh in my mind, so I came to review.”

The professor shook his head in dismay: “You’re pursuing a direct PhD, yet you come back to a freshman class to review basics? And you…,” he glanced at Lu Er, whose face was red, “mix with someone at the bottom of the class? Truly lacking ambition!”

At that moment, Lu Er wished he could sink into the ground.

He had never so clearly realized the gap between himself and Song Jingmo: one was a prodigy, cherished even by professors; he was a waste of Song Jingmo’s time.

From then on, he never let Song Jingmo accompany him to class again.

Memories receded like a tide, leaving only bitterness.

Lu Er turned over and buried his face in the pillow.

He and Song Jingmo were never from the same world.

In the entertainment industry, he was a top celebrity, with a high level of education as one of his most dazzling honors.

But only he knew that behind that University A diploma were countless days and nights of Song Jingmo’s hard work.

Compared to geniuses like Song Jingmo or Liao Xubai, he was not even as significant as the dust on the floor.

His phone vibrated suddenly, a message popping up:

“Is your wrist still hurting? Remember to take your medicine on time.”

Lu Er looked at the message, eyes warming.

No matter what he did, Song Jingmo would continue to treat him kindly, without grudges.

And he could do nothing for Song Jingmo, only holding him back.

Liao Xubai was right—he was just a troublesome person.

In school, Liao Xubai was a genius on par with Song Jingmo.

He was always left far behind.

Two days later, Lu Er went for a hospital follow-up, deliberately avoiding Song Jingmo and taking a regular appointment.

Unexpectedly, he ran into Liao Xubai in the corridor.

“Well, isn’t this our big star?” Liao Xubai’s mouth curled into a mocking smile. “Why isn’t Jingmo accompanying you?”

Lu Er’s face went cold: “None of your business.”

“Because he refused a UK exchange opportunity to pick you up at the airport,” Liao Xubai’s gaze was sharp. “Do you know how many doctors would dream of that?”

Lu Er froze. He had no idea.

“He didn’t tell me.”

If Song Jingmo had been busy, he would never have selfishly let him pick him up.

“Of course he wouldn’t tell you,” Liao Xubai sneered. “What he’s given up for you isn’t just a little. But ask yourself—are you worth such sacrifices?”

Song Jingmo had indeed missed competitions several times to care for him when he was sick.

Lu Er forced a calm expression: “He’s willing. What’s it to you?”

“This concerns his future!” Liao Xubai stepped closer. “He deserves better opportunities. You’re just a stumbling block.”

“Have you said enough?” Lu Er gritted his teeth.

“No!” Liao Xubai’s voice drew nearby glances. “If you have any conscience, stay away from him. Don’t drag him down further.”

Lu Er looked up sharply, eyes flashing with anger. But in the end, he said nothing and strode away.

He disliked Liao Xubai’s attitude, yet he couldn’t deny the truth in his words.

Song Jingmo was so outstanding; he deserved a brighter future, not to give up opportunities and be just an ordinary doctor because of him.

At that moment, Song Jingmo appeared at the end of the corridor.

“How’s the follow-up?” Song Jingmo sat beside Lu Er, his tone full of concern.

Lu Er shifted slightly, creating some distance: “It’s fine. The doctor said recovery is going very well.”

Song Jingmo keenly sensed Lu Er’s distance, frowning: “Are you avoiding me?”

“No.” Lu Er stood up. “I have things to do. I’ll go first.”

“Wait,” Song Jingmo held his wrist lightly, making it impossible for Lu Er to pull away. “Let’s talk.”

Liao Xubai came out of the consultation room and saw them tugging at each other, his expression darkening.

Noticing Liao Xubai’s gaze, Lu Er yanked his wrist from Song Jingmo as if provoked.

“Don’t touch me. If we get photographed, we’ll be trending again.” Lu Er said, then hurried away.

Song Jingmo froze, watching Lu Er’s resolute back, a dull ache rising in his heart.

He turned to Liao Xubai, eyes sharp: “What did you tell him?”

Liao Xubai shrugged: “Just some facts.”

Song Jingmo’s face turned pale: Lu Er had discovered his hidden thoughts.

No wonder just a touch had provoked such a strong reaction.