Lu Zhao's "escape plan" was not going smoothly.
Properties near the school were either exorbitantly priced, far beyond his student budget; or were so remote they bordered on the city outskirts, making commuting a major headache. The few options that seemed affordable and conveniently located were either already rented or so poorly maintained they were off-putting—damp, gloomy basements or cramped partitioned rooms shared with seven or eight others.
Reality struck him like a hammer blow time and again, and the frustration began to coil around him like a vine. During daytime classes, his mind wandered as he secretly refreshed rental websites under his desk. Returning to the dorm at night, he found the suffocating atmosphere unbearable, unable to sit still. He began inventing excuses to stay out late—lingering in the library until closing or wandering the sports field alone until midnight—all to minimize time spent in Room 302.
Gu Xun seemed to notice his change. On two late-night returns, Lu Zhao found Gu Xun still awake. When he pushed open the door, Gu Xun would glance up—his gaze as serene as ever, yet Lu Zhao sensed an imperceptible hint of scrutiny within it. This made him feel even more uneasy, as if his secret attempts to draw boundaries had been completely read through.
Jiang Jin, meanwhile, was utterly consumed by an inexplicable euphoria. As the new semester began, basketball team training intensified. He returned drenched in sweat and brimming with energy, oblivious to the increasingly taut tension in the dorm. He carried on as usual, treating Gu Xun with his "refined" yet fundamentally unchanged approach.
The turning point came on an ordinary Wednesday afternoon.
Lu Zhao had just finished a mind-numbing elective class and returned to the dorm, physically and mentally exhausted. Opening the door, he found Jiang Jin standing before Gu Xun's desk, holding a shoe box emblazoned with a famous sports brand's logo. His bronze skin still glistened with post-workout sweat, his smile bright yet carrying an undeniable pressure.
"Liangzi, for you." Jiang Jin placed the box on the desk. "Limited edition. I waited in line forever. Try them on and see if they fit."
Lu Zhao's heart sank abruptly, his feet freezing at the doorway. Here we go again.
Gu Xun was leaning against his bedhead, reading. At the mention, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, his gaze never leaving the page. His tone was flat and unruffled: "No thanks, Jiang Jin. I have enough shoes."
"This color scheme really suits you," Jiang Jin seemed either deaf to the refusal or utterly indifferent to it. He opened the box himself, pulled out the boldly designed, expensive sneakers, and held them out to Gu Xun. His tone carried an almost pleading eagerness. "Just try them on. If they don't fit, I'll go exchange them."
That persistence in his voice and... a certain unquestionable possessiveness hidden beneath his cheerful demeanor sent a sudden chill down Lu Zhao's spine. He felt like an observer who'd stumbled into a minefield, his feet treading on detonators, his breath involuntarily growing shallow.
The air in the dorm seemed to solidify, thick and suffocating.
Gu Xun remained silent for a few seconds before finally setting down the book in his hands. He lifted his eyes to meet Jiang Jin's, his gaze as clear and sharp as a frozen winter lake. Devoid of emotion, it carried a bone-chilling coldness.
"Jiang Jin," his voice was low but rang clearly in everyone's ears, "I said, no need."
This refusal was crisp and unyielding, leaving no room for compromise.
Jiang Jin's smile flickered and vanished like a candle extinguished by wind. Something shattered within his usually vibrant eyes—a whirlpool of disappointment, confusion, and a sudden, nearly uncontrollable flash of anger at such direct defiance. He fixed a piercing stare on Gu Xun, his voice low and dangerously hoarse. "I bought this specifically for you."
"I didn't ask you to buy it for me." Gu Xun met his gaze without flinching, her tone steady yet each word sharp as ice. "I appreciate your kindness. But please, take it back."
Lu Zhao held his breath, oblivious even as the book slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor. He watched Jiang Jin's fingers clench the shoe box so tightly his knuckles turned white, observed Gu Xun's icy profile, impenetrable and distant, and felt his heart clenched by an invisible fist. This was no ordinary roommate friction—it was a silent, tension-filled standoff. Jiang Jin's near-tangible obsession and Gu Xun's unyielding coldness collided like two immense forces within the cramped dorm room, squeezing and crushing, threatening to tear even him, caught in the middle, apart.
Jiang Jin said nothing more. He merely fixed Gu Xun with a piercing gaze so complex it sent shivers down Lu Zhao's spine—a mix of hurt, humiliation, rage, and an unsettling stubbornness that seemed to say, "You'll accept this eventually." Finally, he slammed the shoe box back onto his desk with a dull thud, grabbed a towel and basin, and stormed out toward the washroom without a word.
"Bang!"
The thunderous door slam echoed through the silent dormitory, making Lu Zhao's heart skip a beat. It seemed to shatter the last shred of his illusion about "normal roommate relations."
The sound of splashing water from the washroom couldn't mask the suppressed, volatile mood.
Inside the dorm, only Lu Zhao and Gu Xun remained.
Gu Xun had already picked up his book again, as if the earlier dramatic confrontation had never occurred. But Lu Zhao noticed the knuckles of his fingers, clenched around the pages, had turned slightly white from the pressure—a telltale sign he wasn't entirely unaffected.
Lu Zhao stiffly bent down to pick up the book that had fallen to the floor, his fingers trembling slightly. He dared not look at Gu Xun, nor dare think of Jiang Jin in the washroom. This place he'd lived in for two years suddenly felt utterly foreign and dangerous. All those things he'd previously dismissed as "off" or "awkward" now revealed their true, monstrous face—a twisted, possessive emotion he couldn't comprehend or accept, and the conflict it sparked, ready to erupt at any moment.
He couldn't stay any longer.
He had to leave immediately! Right now!
All the previous hesitations and considerations about rent, location, and conditions now seemed utterly ridiculous. Compared to enduring this suffocating environment, any financial strain or inconvenience became bearable.
That night, Lu Zhao barely slept. He frantically refreshed rental websites, no longer picky, desperate only to move in as soon as possible. By dawn, he finally found a suitable listing—a spare bedroom in an older neighborhood slightly farther from campus. The price was within his budget, and crucially, the lease could be signed immediately, allowing him to move in over the weekend.
Without hesitation, he contacted the landlord through the platform and scheduled a viewing for the next day.
The following morning, Lu Zhao skipped his morning classes to see the place. The room looked even older than the photos, with simple furniture, but it was reasonably clean. He didn't nitpick, signing the contract with the landlord on the spot and paying the deposit.
Holding that thin rental agreement, Lu Zhao stood on the unfamiliar street and took a long, deep breath. Though the air was thick with the city's pollution, it brought him a long-forgotten sense of relief, like breaking free from shackles.
When he returned to the dorm, Jiang Jin and Gu Xun were both there. Jiang Jin seemed to have returned to normal, loudly discussing weekend team training on the phone as if yesterday's confrontation had never happened. Gu Xun remained seated at his desk, staring at the computer screen.
Lu Zhao didn't look at them. He walked straight to his wardrobe and began silently, methodically packing his belongings. He carefully placed his frequently worn clothes, essential books, and laptop into a suitcase, one item at a time.
His movements caught Jiang Jin's attention. Jiang Jin hung up the phone and approached, looking somewhat surprised. "Lu Zhao, what are you doing? Packing to go home?"
Lu Zhao paused in his movements but didn't look up. His voice was calm yet carried an unquestionable resolve: "I'm moving out."
The dorm fell instantly silent.
Even Gu Xun, who had been facing away from them, paused his keyboard typing for a moment.
Jiang Jin froze, seemingly completely unprepared for this answer: "Moving out? Why? You're living just fine..." His voice held genuine confusion.
Lu Zhao offered no explanation. He couldn't explain. Was he supposed to say it was because he couldn't stand the suffocating tension between them? He zipped up his suitcase, stood up, and finally looked up at Jiang Jin, his gaze also briefly sweeping over Gu Xun's still-turned-away figure.
"Nothing. Just want a change of scenery." His tone was flat, devoid of emotion. "I've taken care of all the paperwork. Moving out this weekend."
With that, he ignored the stunned expression on Jiang Jin's face, dragged his suitcase, and walked out of Room 302.
The door closed softly behind him, sealing off everything inside. Lu Zhao stood in the empty hallway, listening to his own distinct heartbeat. He knew that from this moment onward, something had changed irrevocably. With his departure, he drew a hasty and decisive full stop to this twisted love triangle that had dragged on for over two years.