Free Web NovelChapter 182: WHAT HAPPENED TONIGHT IS BOTHERING ME
"We did not need that much information," Tang Shiwei said, looking as though he genuinely regretted encouraging Luo Cheng to elaborate in the first place.
Luo Cheng met his gaze without the slightest trace of embarrassment. If anything, he appeared mildly confused by the complaint, as though he had simply fulfilled the requirements of the question and could not understand why everyone was acting inconvenienced by the result.
"You asked."
"We asked whether you intended to settle down," Ma Defeng corrected from across the room. The memory alone seemed enough to reignite his irritation. "Nobody asked for a complete life plan, three backup plans, and an analysis of future risks."
"You’re welcome."
Several people stared at him.
The fact that Luo Cheng delivered the response with complete sincerity somehow made it worse.
Xu Minhao rubbed his forehead and let out a slow breath. The conversation had wandered so far away from its original purpose that he no longer possessed the energy required to drag it back.
"Alright," he said eventually. "It’s late. Everyone should get some sleep. We’ve got work ahead of us tomorrow."
That, at least, was something nobody argued with.
The meeting broke apart almost immediately. Chairs shifted against the floor as people stood, stretching cramped muscles and gathering abandoned phones, water bottles, and jackets.
Small conversations resumed as the group drifted toward the hallway, their voices gradually lowering until they blended into the familiar background noise of men who spent far too much time in one another’s company.
The atmosphere had relaxed considerably.
Whatever tension had lingered after the meeting had largely dissolved beneath teasing, complaints, and collective exhaustion.
Then Ma Defeng’s voice exploded from the room at the end of the corridor.
"WHO LEFT THEIR FUCKING BOXER SHORTS ON MY BED?"
Every sound in the apartment died instantly.
Conversations stopped halfway through sentences. People froze where they stood. For one remarkable moment, the entire building seemed to hold its breath.
A few seconds later, Ma Defeng spoke again.
"I HAVE TO CHANGE MY ENTIRE SHEET. WHO DID THIS? FUCK"
Nobody answered.
Not because nobody knew.
Because every single person present had independently reached the conclusion that remaining silent was currently the safest option.
It was Zhou Kang who eventually ruined that strategy.
"What colour are they?"
The question was followed by a brief pause.
"Grey," Ma Defeng said. "With a hole near the waistband."
The effect was immediate.
Heads turned throughout the room with such perfect synchronization that it looked almost rehearsed.
Every single one of them settled on Wen Guang.
Wen Guang glanced up from his phone and frowned when he discovered himself under investigation.
"What?"
"Grey," Tang Shiwei repeated helpfully. "Hole near the waistband. Sounds like yours"
-_-
"That describes half the boxers in this building. The fuck."
His answer came far too quickly.
Several expressions immediately became more suspicious.
"But it describe yours specifically." Zhou Kang said, holding back a laugh.
"I’m not answering that."
The refusal did nothing to help his case.
Chen Boyu leaned back in his chair and nodded thoughtfully.
"That sounds like an answer."
"It’s not an answer," Wen Guang argued. "It’s a refusal. What the hell is wrong with you.."
"It’s both."
"No, it isn’t."
Before the debate could continue, Ma Defeng’s voice drifted out from the room once more.
"Wen Guang."
Something about his tone caused the room to quiet again.
"Are these your boxers?"
The pause that followed stretched long enough for everyone to reach the same conclusion.
"They might be, they might not."
The room erupted.
Liu Pengfei nearly folded in half.
Tang Shiwei slapped a hand over his face.
Even Xu Minhao looked as though he had suddenly developed a headache.
"They might be?" Zhou Kang repeated. "How do you not know? Who else has tiny waist like you?"
"I can’t confirm ownership without seeing them."
The explanation somehow managed to make the situation worse.
By that point Liu Pengfei had slipped so far down in his chair that he was in danger of ending up on the floor.
"Wen Guang," Ma Defeng said, his voice becoming unnervingly calm, "I am going to find your other boxers and leave them somewhere significantly worse than your bed."
"You don’t know where my other boxers are."
The confidence lasted exactly one sentence.
A dangerous sort of amusement entered Ma Defeng’s voice.
"Wen Guang, I conduct the room inspections every Tuesday. I know where you keep your spare uniforms, your emergency snacks, the cash hidden behind your bookshelf, and apparently underwear that should have been retired months ago."
For the first time all evening, Wen Guang looked genuinely alarmed.
Until that moment, he had remained reasonably confident.
After all, the situation involved a single pair of boxer shorts.
Embarrassing? Certainly.
Recoverable? Absolutely.
The moment room inspections entered the conversation, however, the nature of the battlefield changed completely.
"You wouldn’t."
Ma Defeng laughed.
It wasn’t a loud laugh, nor was it particularly threatening.
Unfortunately, it carried the quiet confidence of a man who knew exactly where all the bodies were buried.
Or, in this case, where all the underwear was stored.
"Change my sheets," he said pleasantly, "and we’ll never have to find out."
The room immediately turned toward Wen Guang.
Not out of concern.
Certainly not out of support.
Everyone simply wanted to see what decision he would make.
There were moments in life when a person was forced to choose between dignity and practicality.
Wise people chose practicality.
Unfortunately, dignity was usually much louder.
Wen Guang stared toward the hallway for several seconds.
The hallway stared back.
Eventually, practicality won.
A chair scraped against the floor.
Wen Guang stood.
"Fine."
The word sounded as though it had been dragged out of him against its will.
"Fine."
With that, he headed toward the corridor like a man marching toward his execution.
The apartment immediately dissolved into laughter.
Liu Pengfei nearly fell out of his chair.
Tang Shiwei looked as though he was trying and failing to remember how breathing worked.
Even Zhou Kang had given up pretending to be mature about the situation.
The truly unfortunate part was that Wen Guang’s suffering wasn’t even particularly rare.
Anyone who lived in close quarters long enough eventually accumulated embarrassing stories.
The difference was that most people managed to keep theirs private.
Wen Guang, unfortunately, worked with witnesses.
Many witnesses.
Witnesses who possessed excellent memories and very few moral principles.
Several minutes passed before the laughter gradually faded.
By the time Wen Guang returned, carrying the expression of a man who had been deeply betrayed by fate, the room had finally calmed down.
No one mentioned the boxer shorts.
This was not mercy.
Everyone was simply saving the material for future use.
Experienced professionals understood the value of preserving ammunition.
The apartment slowly settled into a comfortable quiet.
Conversations became softer.
A few people checked their phones.
Someone wandered into the kitchen in search of a late-night snack.
The crisis, it seemed, had finally passed.
Unfortunately, life possessed a habit of replacing one problem with another.
Luo Cheng had remained unusually quiet throughout the entire exchange.
At first, nobody paid much attention to it.
That wasn’t particularly strange.
He had never been the loudest person in the room.
Gradually, however, several people noticed that while everyone else had been laughing, Luo Cheng had spent most of the time thinking.
That realization was enough to make the atmosphere shift.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Because experience had taught them a simple lesson.
When Luo Cheng stopped talking, there was usually a reason.
When he started talking again, there was usually a problem.
"Before everyone disappears for the night," he said at last, "there’s something we should discuss."
The room quieted almost immediately.
Not because he raised his voice.
He didn’t.
The men sitting there simply knew the difference between casual conversation and serious conversation.
Luo Cheng rarely wasted either.
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees.
For a moment, his gaze moved across the room.
The humour that had dominated the last twenty minutes slowly receded.
Not completely.
But enough that nobody interrupted.
"What happened tonight is bothering me."
That opening alone was enough to erase whatever remained of the laughter.
Because Luo Cheng wasn’t the type to be bothered easily.
He wasn’t particularly optimistic, but neither was he prone to unnecessary worry.
If something managed to concern him, there was usually a reason worth listening to.
And judging from the expressions around the room, everyone had reached the same conclusion.
