63: Chapter 63 Vice President and "President"

The bell for the end of class rang right on time, like some kind of gospel pulling people back from hell to the mortal world.

The Old Professor didn't have the habit of dragging out his lectures either; he nimbly packed up his teaching materials, which looked even older than he was, tucked them under his arm, and slipped away.

The air in the classroom instantly livened up, and the atmosphere, which had been so tense it felt like it was strangling everyone, seemed to dissipate a bit along with the professor's retreating figure.

Of course, this was only on the surface.

If anyone had even the slightest bit of perception, they would be able to detect that beneath this calm surface, there was a massive whirlpool of surging undercurrents.

Leng Qingxuan still maintained that standard "Iceberg Campus Belle posture."

Her back was straight, her chin slightly lifted, and her cold, clear eyes were fixed on the chalk writing that hadn't been erased from the blackboard.

At first glance, she was absolutely a sacred and inviolable ice-sculpted goddess.

But only she knew in her heart that beneath this thin shell of ice, a volcano had already erupted.

Her mind was now like a webpage with dozens of bullet-comment sites open, filled with dense, garbled code.

On an impulse, she cast a glance backward.

It wouldn't have mattered if she hadn't looked, but one look and her blood pressure nearly skyrocketed.

Huang Mao was no longer lying face down.

She saw Su Muxue leaning slightly to the side, seemingly whispering something to him.

The distance between the two was excessively close, having even breached the so-called "safe social distance."

A nameless sense of irritation instantly exploded in Leng Qingxuan's heart.

Accompanied by a sense of crisis, a massive sense of crisis!

The next two periods were free, which was originally the "free activity time" university students loved most.

But now, Leng Qingxuan was plunged into an even more serious internal struggle.

"Should I go find him?"

Once this thought popped up, she couldn't suppress it no matter what.

She thought of that secret base belonging to them—Room 502 of the General Building.

Nobody ever went there; it was quiet, secluded, and filled with an ambiguous atmosphere that belonged only to the two of them—although last time there were three.

Most importantly, there was no surveillance there.

The scene of playing games together there last time started playing automatically in her mind, beyond her control.

And last night...

Last night in Huang Mao's room, that "accomplice" behavior that crossed the line.

That lingering warmth on her palms, that stimulating feeling of her heartbeat accelerating to the point of overload.

Thinking of this, Leng Qingxuan felt her cheeks starting to burn uncontrollably again.

She really wanted to rush over right now, even if it was just to stay quietly by his side.

She wanted to confirm once more that he didn't despise her because of this troublesome post.

Even... if the atmosphere was right, could they do a little more of that?

Like holding hands? Or... doing that again?

As long as she could be with him, that reassuring feeling could dispel all her unease.

However, reality was like a basin of cold water, always able to be splashed precisely onto her head.

She thought of that damn exposé post on the forum.

"If it was a sneak photo..."

Leng Qingxuan's body stiffened for a moment.

As a young lady who had been surrounded by countless gazes since childhood, she had instinctive PTSD regarding such things.

The experiences of being followed and secretly photographed by those fanatical pursuers during her middle school days could be considered her childhood trauma.

Although she was in university now, that post proved that such dark gazes still existed.

What if someone was hiding in some corner right now, staring at her?

What if she went to find Huang Mao and got photographed again?

If some "solid proof" were exposed again by then, wouldn't Huang Mao be plunged into an even more troublesome situation?

She didn't want to let him get into that kind of trouble.

She really didn't.

Just in this back-and-forth oscillation between "going" and "not going," Leng Qingxuan felt like her CPU was about to burn out.

She took her phone out and put it back; the screen lit up and went dark again.

She wanted to send a message to ask what his plans were, but deleted all the words halfway through typing.

Clearly, Leng Qingxuan was currently in a state of being very prone to overthinking, unable to clear her thoughts, and always repeating some unnecessary concerns.

"Sigh, what exactly am I agonizing over..."

She bit her lip in annoyance and finally made up her mind; even if it was just to look back for a glance, it would be enough.

Even if it was just to exchange a glance with him to confirm his state.

Thus, she turned her head abruptly.

However, what met her eyes was an empty desk.

The person who had been sitting there just now didn't even have a shadow left.

In that instant, Leng Qingxuan felt empty inside, as if a piece had been dug out of her.

"He left... when did he leave?"

She looked at the empty seat in a daze, and the noisy sounds of the surrounding classmates seemed to drift away from her.

That massive sense of loss was almost about to drown her.

But strangely, after the disappointment, a trace of extremely faint relief actually emerged.

"It's good that he left... this way he won't be implicated by me..."

"He must have his own things to be busy with..."

Like a deflated ball, Leng Qingxuan slumped back onto the desk and buried her face in her arms.

On the other side, Huang Mao, who was supposedly "busy with things," had actually just come out of the restroom.

"That feels good."

He was washing his hands unhurriedly in front of the sink, and while at it, smoothed out his slightly messy bangs in the mirror.

The atmosphere in the classroom just now was really too oppressive, especially with Su Muxue beside him who would yell "Master" at the drop of a hat.

She was simply a ticking time bomb, likely to pull off some shocking and outrageous stunt in public at any moment.

So as soon as class ended, he used the excuse of needing to pee to slip away.

Shaking the water droplets off his hands, Huang Mao stretched deeply, his joints popping and cracking all over.

"Next... time to do the real work."

That post had to be dealt with.

As for how to deal with it...

Huang Mao walked out of the teaching building and headed toward the other end of the campus, familiar with the route.

His target was clear—the new office building where the Student Union's new office was located.

Speaking of the Student Union at this Xinghai Private University, it was truly an existence that left one speechless.

The school's attitude toward the Student Union was extremely contradictory, just like some parents dealing with their own unpromising, unruly kids.

On one hand, many necessary procedures or rules and regulations were handled like a pile of trash, full of loopholes.

But on the other hand, the school was truly willing to spend money on hardware facilities.

This newly built office building was ridiculously impressive.

It wasn't just that it was all floor-to-ceiling windows; the interior decoration style was practically that of a high-end office building in a CBD.

As soon as it was built, the Student Union's office was arranged.

And the office configuration was also terrifying.

Both the President and Vice President had independent offices, and the various department heads below were grouped in twos or threes, possessing spacious office areas.

Air conditioning, water heaters, and sofas were all standard equipment.

The most absurd part was that every workstation was equipped with a desktop computer with decent specs.

Although for the students in the Student Union, using it for work seemed a bit unrealistic.

But I heard playing games like League of Legends or Valorant was no problem.

"This is what they call 'burning through the budget,' I guess."

Huang Mao grumbled while climbing the stairs with practiced ease.

The corridor was quiet; at this hour, most Student Union cadres were in class or outside pretending to "inspect work."

When he passed the room with the "President's Office" sign, he couldn't help but stop and peek inside.

The door was slightly ajar, and the inside was as messy as a pigsty, with takeout boxes piled on the coffee table, not even thrown away.

Huang Mao shook his head, a mocking smile curling on his lips.

That someone who couldn't even manage his own little patch of land could win the election and become President was the main reason he criticized the Student Union.

He didn't linger long and walked straight to another office at the end of the corridor.

That door had a simple sign hanging on it—"Vice President's Office."

This place and Zhao Yu's place were practically two different worlds.

The floor at the entrance was so clean it could reflect a person's image, and one couldn't even see a fingerprint on the doorknob.

"Knock, knock."

Huang Mao raised his hand and knocked on the door.

The crisp sound of knocking echoed in the corridor, but there was no response from inside.

"Not here?"

Huang Mao raised an eyebrow, feeling slightly surprised.

He tentatively twisted the doorknob.

"Click."

The door opened; it wasn't locked.

Huang Mao pushed the door open and entered; a faint, cool fragrance wafted over, not the kind of sweet, cloying perfume, but a refreshing scent similar to mint or cedar.

It fit that person's style very well.

The furnishings in the office were extremely simple.

There were no superfluous decorations, just rows of neat filing cabinets and a huge desk.

The desktop was piled with various folders; although it looked like a lot, every single one was placed neatly, like the gospel for an obsessive-compulsive person.

"Tsk tsk, still so capable."

Huang Mao walked to the desk and casually flipped through the file on top, which was a proposal for the upcoming Campus Culture Festival.

The annotations on it were dense, the handwriting sharp yet delicate.

He glanced at the computer next to it again.

The screen wasn't black; it was just in standby mode.

Huang Mao gripped the mouse and gave it a shake, and the screen instantly lit up.

The lock screen interface was a simple landscape image, and the username clearly displayed three characters—Jiang Mengshu.

"It seems she should be nearby, just left temporarily."

Huang Mao let go of the mouse and was just about to sit on the sofa and wait a while.

Just at this moment, the door lock behind him suddenly made a soft sound.

"Click."

Immediately after, the door was pushed open.

Huang Mao instinctively turned his head and happened to lock eyes with the person who had just entered the doorway.

That was a woman who could be spotted at a glance even if thrown into a crowd.

She had a neat, short haircut, the tips of her hair slightly messy, which only highlighted a casual handsomeness.

She was wearing a white shirt, the buttons meticulously done up to the very top one, and on her lower body was a pair of well-tailored black trousers.

This somewhat androgynous style did not cover up her charm as a woman.

On the contrary, combined with her tall, slender figure and exquisite yet somewhat heroic features, it instead exuded a unique sense of dash and vigor.

If Leng Qingxuan was an unattainable iceberg, then she was an unsheathed sharp sword, cold and keen.

Jiang Mengshu was holding a few newly printed documents in her hands and was visibly stunned when she saw Huang Mao standing in front of the desk.

That mask of calmness she had maintained for years appeared with a crack in this instant.

The originally slightly stern look in her eyes, like ice and snow beginning to melt, quickly softened.

Replaced by a rather subtle gentleness.

And a trace of joy hidden very deep.

She closed the door gently behind her, completely shutting out the noise from the outside.

Then, she strode with those long legs wrapped in trousers and walked in a few steps to Huang Mao.

She didn't ask nonsense like "Why are you here."

Instead, she tilted her head slightly, a movement that made her originally sharp aura instantly become somewhat... cute?

She looked at Huang Mao, her voice cold and clear, yet carrying a sense of closeness that only surfaced when facing very few people:

"Long time no see."

"Did you come specifically to find me?"

"President... my lord?"