Chapter 352: Big Bed, Same Sleep

In the first week of school, after the entrance exam, the new semester's club recruitment began.

For the past few days, the Gao Er club members had been busy at their booths, contributing their own efforts to their clubs.

But…

"Li Luo, why so many?" Yan Zhusheng stared at the thick pile of white papers in front of him, his face blank with confusion.

"Isn't it because you squeezed them all out?" Li Luo sighed with a wry laugh. "Senior Niu said you're going to be the next rock club president, so this time, you should pick your own members—choose people who fit your standards."

Before Yan Zhusheng lay a thick stack of application forms.

Compared to last year's pile that Niu Qingling received, this year's stack was at least five or six times thicker, totaling over sixty applicants.

Yan Zhusheng stared at the mountain of forms, his face twisting into a look of distress. He scratched his head and turned to Li Luo, his eyes pleading: "Can I give the presidency to you? You pick the members."

"I'm already set to take over the literature club presidency," Li Luo said, spreading his hands. "Just sit down and go through the forms."

"Li Luo, you're so capable—taking on one more presidency wouldn't hurt, right?" Yan Zhusheng said seriously.

"Stop trying to slack off," Li Luo rolled his eyes, then sighed and pulled half the stack toward himself. "I'll help you go through them, but you still have to pick your own."

"Okay."

After spending most of the second evening study session working, the two had narrowed down seven candidates and finalized the new rock club members.

One drummer, two keyboardists, one bassist, and three guitarists.

Three guitarists weren't strictly necessary, but two of them claimed they could sing well too.

By next year, when Li Luo, Yan Zhusheng, and Xie Shuchen all graduate, even if the incoming freshmen are uneven in talent, these Gao Er members alone will be enough to form a full band.

Li Luo deliberately picked candidates from parallel classes, to avoid repeating last year's problem—having enough people but having to skip performances due to competition requirements.

"You said we'd split the forms, but you let me do most of the work," Li Luo rubbed his forehead, sighing. "You're a terrible president."

"Then I'll appoint you acting president," Yan Zhusheng said solemnly. "When you're not here, I'm president. When you're here, you're president."

Li Luo: "... Do you even understand what 'acting president' means? You've got it completely backwards."

"Then you're vice president," Yan Zhusheng said. "Just like Chanxi is vice monitor—I'm president, so you do whatever I say."

"Vice president is usually given to a first-year freshman," Li Luo said, utterly baffled. "We don't even have a vice president because our rock club is so small."

"I'm president now, so I call the shots in this club," Yan Zhusheng said, tightening his face. "I say you're vice president, so you are. From now on, you obey me."

"Fine, fine, that's how it is?" Li Luo chuckled. "Then you're also our class sports officer—shouldn't you listen to the class monitor too?"

"In class I listen to you. In rock club, I'm in charge."

"You're good at calculating."

…

During the second evening study session, with about ten minutes left before dismissal.

Yan Zhusheng poked Li Luo in the waist; Li Luo then reached back and poked Ying Chanxi's back.

Soon after, three figures disappeared from the classroom.

Since they sat in the back, few noticed.

But Liu Shao wen had clearly noticed for a while.

"Didn't you notice?" Liu Shao wen nudged his desk mate Liao Hailin. "Lately, during the second evening study session, why does Ying Chanxi always leave with Li Luo and Yan Zhusheng, then come back just before dismissal?"

"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?" Liao Hailin was speechless. "If you're curious, just ask them. They can't be going on dates, can they?"

"That's impossible," Liu Shao wen said. "But asking directly feels awkward."

"Then just finish your homework."

While Liu Shao wen was still baffled, the students in Class Eight had already grown used to this sight.

Especially those well-versed in the Class Eight Bible—they exchanged knowing smiles, thinking the monitor really knew how to play it.

In novels, at least, the protagonist dates the three heroines separately. Here, the monitor's already going in and out with two girls together.

It was like fiction had bled into reality—and reality was sometimes even weirder than fiction.

"Chanxi, here."

On the playground, Yan Zhusheng took one of the headphones Ying Chanxi had given him, slipped it into her ear, and the other into his own.

As for Li Luo, he'd lost Yan Zhusheng's exclusive attention these days—he no longer got to enjoy music during night runs.

Now he only got one earbud during his nap, and at night, Ying Chanxi claimed both.

To be fair, Yan Zhusheng understood the art of even distribution.

"Tonight's episode of Aunt Yuan's show is out—eighth episode already?" After finishing their run, Ying Chanxi panted slightly as she walked with Li Luo and Yan Zhusheng toward the teaching building. "Want to watch together when we get home?"

"Sure," Li Luo nodded. "But I still have to write. I'll bring my laptop to the living room desk, write a bit, then join you to watch."

"Why not come to your room to watch?" Yan Zhusheng tilted his head. "Mango TV has the replay, and you can skip ahead—watch from the beginning."

"Yan Zhusheng's right," Ying Chanxi said at once, her eyes lighting up at the idea of going to Li Luo's room. "And since Mango TV lets us skip ahead, we can shower first, then watch."

"Yeah," Yan Zhusheng nodded. "Li Luo can write first, then we watch together. What do you think, Chanxi?"

"I agree," Ying Chanxi looked at Li Luo. "What about you?"

Watching the two execute this seamless, effortless coordination, Li Luo fell silent, still not understanding how they'd gone from watching a show to all three ending up in his room.

But they'd already decided. Refusing would be pointless, so he nodded. "Fine. But don't stay up too late—I'll write as fast as I can tonight."

"No problem," Ying Chanxi hurried to say. "Quality matters most. Just finish your daily word count properly first. Tomorrow's Saturday—both classes are self-study. Staying up late doesn't matter."

"Right," Yan Zhusheng agreed. "Staying up late's fine."

Li Luo eyed the two suspiciously. He had a strong feeling these two weren't really here for the show at all.

…

After the second evening study session ended.

Li Luo and the other two packed their bags, walked downstairs together, met Xu Youyu on Houde Road, and the four of them headed toward Bihai Lanting.

Back in 1502, Xu Youyu tossed her bag onto the sofa and bounced toward the bathroom, winking at Ying Chanxi and Yan Zhusheng: "I'll wait for you two in the bathroom~"

After these few days since the semester started, the girls had all grown somewhat accustomed to bathing together.

Ying Chanxi and Yan Zhusheng had no objections; they quietly put away their backpacks, grabbed their change of pajamas, and took turns walking into the bathroom.

Li Luo, seeing this, couldn't help but sigh, thinking that Tony the masseur would have to log on on time tonight too.

By around nine at night, after drying all three girls' hair, Li Luo finally sat back in his chair, uploaded the new chapter he'd co-written with Yuan Wanqing, and slipped into writing mode.

Aside from Xu Youyu, who had returned to his own bedroom to keep writing updates, Ying Chanxi and Yan Zhusheng showed no intention of leaving—instead, they both climbed onto Li Luo's bed.

The two of them lay under the covers, backs propped against the upright pillow at the headboard, laptops resting on their legs; after Yan Zhusheng asked Li Luo to plug in the charger, she pulled out Bluetooth earbuds.

Each put on one earbud; Ying Chanxi played some music, then pulled up Li Luo's saved drafts of "I Am Really Not a Star" and began watching them with Yan Zhusheng, thoroughly engrossed.

"You go ahead and write," Ying Chanxi said from the bed. "Just let us know when you're done."

Watching his bed being taken over, Li Luo sighed again—he'd already guessed how tonight's battle would go.

Clearly, there'd be no morning run tomorrow.

With these two delicate girls lying on his bed watching TV dramas, Li Luo sat at his desk beside them and struggled hard to focus on writing.

His current writing tasks were roughly divided into three parts.

First, the remaining draft material for "I Am Really Not a Star," which had now progressed to over three hundred thousand words; the plot involving the variety show "I Am a Singer" had already been fully written in the drafts.

Second, targeted revisions to recent draft material—since the goal was to achieve a synergy between reality and fiction, it was best to closely mirror real life while slightly surpassing it.

On this foundation, Li Luo needed to make minor adjustments to future updates based on the actual broadcast details of each episode.

Third, the draft material for "Little Joy."

This part was relatively easy—just transcribe the TV drama's content from memory, then rewrite it in novel form.

In just a few short days, he'd already completed tens of thousands of words.

The plot had just reached the scene at the senior year motivational assembly, where Qiao Yingzi argued with her mother over which university to write on a wish balloon, and the balloon was accidentally popped in front of everyone.

As Li Luo typed, Ying Chanxi and Yan Zhusheng on the bed read the novel he'd written.

They followed "I Am Really Not a Star" daily, so now they could only turn to Li Luo's new novel to pass the time.

But the moment they started reading, they were completely hooked.

I have to say, the pacing of the plot in "A Little Reunion" is quite good.

Almost every step followed the pattern of unexpected events, conflicts, interpersonal dynamics, problem analysis and solutions, and finally a satisfying resolution that simultaneously introduced new surprises and tensions.

Each plot point was precisely timed.

From both screenwriter and author perspectives, this was a highly quality work.

Aside from the original TV drama's setting of three families in the capital, which some might criticize as unrealistic, there were few other flaws.

Li Luo made slight modifications here—he slightly lowered the socioeconomic status of the three families and set the story in Yuhang City, incorporating elements from part of Fuyi High School and his own high school from his past life.

At least this made the families' backgrounds feel more grounded.

One family's father worked in a government office, but Li Luo changed his position from a district mayor in the capital to a section chief in Yinjiang District.

Another family's father was a billionaire with multiple properties; this wealth had to be scaled down.

As for the male lead's family, little modification was needed—Li Luo simply adapted his own family's background, made some tweaks, and inserted it into the plot.

This made the setting feel marginally more realistic.

At least it wasn't as exaggerated as the original.

Otherwise, viewers watching the drama might think: "These three families are running around for their kids' Gaokao, with so many mishaps—how exhausting."

Then, upon reflection, they'd realize these families, by national standards, belonged to the elite class—why should they empathize with them at all?

That would be too jarring.

But apart from this, the TV drama itself was undeniably excellent.

Especially with the Gaokao as its focal point, it resonated deeply across the entire country.

As Ying Chanxi read the scene where Qiao Yingzi argued with her mother and the wish balloon popped, her heart tightened.

She flipped forward—and realized she'd already finished.

The plot ended abruptly, leaving Ying Chanxi with a lump in her throat, utterly miserable.

"Li Luo!"

"What?"

"Is there more to 'Little Joy'? After the balloon popped, does she cry?"

"Cough… don't rush, I'm writing it."

"Alright." Ying Chanxi didn't disturb Li Luo again, turned to Yan Zhusheng, and asked, puzzled, "Aren't you upset?"

"Not upset," Yan Zhusheng shook her head. "My mom would never do that. If I wanted to write any university, she'd support me."

"How nice," Ying Chanxi sighed.

She wasn't sure whether she envied Yan Zhusheng for having a mother, or for being able to choose her university freely.

Actually, when she saw this scene, she thought back to this past spring, when Teacher Sun asked her about her university choices.

Back then, not just Teacher Sun, but also the vice-principal and principal all urged her to apply to Tsinghua or Peking University, warning her she'd regret choosing Qianjiang University.

This kind of "for your own good" pressure was suffocating, yet impossible to outright refuse.

Fortunately, Ying Chanxi's father supported her choice.

But because of this experience, she deeply understood Qiao Yingzi's plight.

Added to that, Qiao Yingzi was the male lead's childhood friend—a role that gave Ying Chanxi an even stronger sense of identification.

It felt as if Li Luo had written it on purpose.

He must've secretly taken inspiration from me again, right?

Thinking this, Ying Chanxi's heart warmed again.

But then she remembered that in the novel, the male lead Fang Yifan had a secret crush on a girl at school—and her face darkened, her mood souring.

Especially when she thought this girl was likely inspired by Yan Zhusheng, Ying Chanxi couldn't help puffing out her cheeks and shooting Li Luo a secret glare.

But that glare happened to catch Li Luo's eye as he turned his head, leaving him utterly baffled: "Why are you glaring at me?"

"Hmm…" Caught red-handed by Li Luo, Ying Chanxi's cheeks flushed red. She stammered, "N-nothing! You're mistaken—I got sand in my eye."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, fine—keep writing."

It went on like this until past eleven at night, when Li Luo finished tonight's task and stretched lazily in his chair.

Seeing he was done, Yan Zhusheng voluntarily moved away from Ying Chanxi, clearing the center of the bed. She patted the mattress and said to Li Luo, "Li Luo, come here."

"I haven't showered yet—why the rush?" Li Luo gave her a look. "Wait till I'm done."

Saying that, Li Luo picked up his pajamas and walked into the bathroom.

After closing the door, Li Luo hesitated, then reached out and locked it.

If it were only Ying Chanxi, locking it wouldn't matter—she wouldn't dare come in.

But Yan Zhusheng was another story.

For safety's sake, Li Luo locked the door before starting his shower.

Listening to the steady patter of water from the bathroom, Ying Chanxi's expression grew slightly unnatural. She twisted her legs under the covers, unsure how to position herself.

Yan Zhusheng, however, kept staring at the bathroom door, then glanced at Ying Chanxi beside her, and couldn't help asking, "Xixi, do you need to use the restroom?"

"Huh? N-no, I don't—why?"

"Oh, okay."

After a few minutes, Li Luo emerged.

Dressed in his pajamas, he walked to the bed, slipped between the two girls, pulled Ying Chanxi's laptop onto his lap, and logged into Mango TV.

Just as the three were about to watch the eighth episode of "I Am a Singer," the door to Li Luo's room quietly creaked open.

Probably due to past experience, Xu Youyu poked her head in. Seeing Ying Chanxi and Yan Zhusheng in bed, she wasn't even very surprised—just slightly startled—then quickly composed herself.

"You're here too?"

Xu Youyu shuffled over in her slippers, peered curiously at the screen, then grinned and climbed onto the bed from Ying Chanxi's side, squeezing herself in. "Seriously, you didn't even call me to watch?"

"S-senior… there's too many of us now," Ying Chanxi said, pushed so hard against Li Luo that she ended up pressed into his chest.

On the other side, Yan Zhusheng was nearly squeezed to the edge of the bed before Xu Youyu finally managed to slip under the covers.

"See? There's plenty of room," Xu Youyu chuckled. "Are you two excluding me on purpose?"

"Of course not…" Ying Chanxi whispered, half her body leaning into Li Luo's arms. Suddenly, it didn't feel so bad. "Then… senior, join us."

Li Luo glanced left and right, then sighed and smiled. "Why don't we just watch in the living room? The sofa's bigger."

"The TV's already played out the episode," Yan Zhusheng murmured, subtly leaning into Li Luo as well. "Only the computer has it now."

"Then let's take the laptop to the living room?"

"Ugh, stop dawdling!" Xu Youyu rolled onto her side, draping her thigh over Ying Chanxi's and kicking her foot against Li Luo's leg. "Hurry up—we need to sleep!"

Li Luo felt her foot rubbing against his leg, his pulse quickening. With Ying Chanxi and Yan Zhusheng pressing softly against either side, he felt his restraint slipping.

He quickly clicked play, trying to distract himself.

"Li Luo, what are you doing with your hand under the covers?"

"Cough… my pajama waistband's stuck—I'm just adjusting it."

"Let me help," Yan Zhusheng reached out.

"Just watch the show, you little thief!"

As he slapped Yan Zhusheng's hand away, he realized she'd already seized his hand—and wouldn't let go.

With Ying Chanxi and Xu Youyu beside them, Li Luo couldn't protest. He let her keep holding him.

Meanwhile, Ying Chanxi, besides leaning naturally against him, made no other moves—she simply rested quietly against his shoulder, watching the show.

Tonight, Yuan Wanqing still shone on the singing stage, performing "Under the Flying Clouds" on September 4th, perfectly timed for the start of the semester.

Many college students had left home, traveling far to study under hardship.

At the same time, many office workers struggled to put down roots in big cities, barely surviving.

When Yuan Wanqing sang, "Under the flying clouds~ the home I thought I'd forgotten~ whispers in my ears~ telling me not to dwell on pain or fear~," it struck a chord with countless hearts.

At least, Li Luo noticed several older audience members in the video crying with genuine emotion—though he wondered if they were professional viewers.

But regardless, as Li Luo and the three girls watched the recording, online discussions erupted again over Yuan Wanqing's new song.

One comment, with an unusually high number of likes, drew particular attention.

【I watched with two coworkers—I and another woman didn't cry, but the male coworker sobbed hard.】

【My female coworker is local—her home is nearby, just minutes away. After listening, she only thought it was nice, nothing more.】

【I'm not local, but I'm in the neighboring city—home's still close. I went to university at the school next to my company. After listening, I felt moved, but didn't cry.】

【But my male coworker came from a rural village in the southwest. Now he's settled in a northern metropolis. After hearing this song, he cried, took off his glasses, and said he couldn't bear to hear it again.】

【Because hearing it makes him think of home—and thinking of home makes him want to give up. It shakes his determination.】

【I think this song is beautiful, but its lyrics are selective—it moves those who've been away from home the longest.】

【So if you only think this song is okay or average—you're lucky.】

This hot comment went viral online.

Following it, "Chongran" once again trended on the hot search list.

Earlier rumors claimed Chongran was a Gao Zhongsheng.

But such tender, subtle lyrics about longing for home from afar were hard to imagine coming from a high school student.

Since Chongran himself never responded, only rumors circulated online—true or false—and the mystery only deepened everyone's curiosity about his true identity.

Yet Chongran himself remained unaware of all this happening online.

In the middle of the night, squeezed onto one bed by three girls, after watching a show for nearly two hours, the four of them fell into deep sleep.

It wasn't until the next morning, when Li Luo was woken by his alarm, half-open eyes blurry as he reached for his phone, that he realized he'd touched nothing but a smooth, soft face.

Turning his head to look left and right, seeing the three girls piled together on his bed, Li Luo lay there rubbing his forehead and turned off the alarm.

Yan Zhusheng, whose face he had touched and whose side the alarm had sounded on, had already woken, but she pretended to sleep, snuggling again and again against Li Luo's left side without opening her eyes.

On the other side, Ying Chanxi had half her body pressed against Li Luo; since both sides were crowded, she hadn't fought over the blanket during the night.

Li Luo glanced at Ying Chanxi, still fast asleep, and wondered: could this be a way to fix Xi Xi's habit of stealing the blanket?

As he thought this, Li Luo felt a foot resting on his leg.

Probably disturbed by the noise, the foot twitched, trying to pull back—but it hit a traffic jam, making Li Luo involuntarily hiss.

Xu Youyu, who had been hugging Ying Chanxi to avoid falling off the bed, mumbled: "What's that?"