High School of Demon Hunting

Chapter 235: Chapter 159: Love Story_1

Dawn pierced through the canopy, leaving a series of pale halos on the comforter.

The laughter and the sound of wings fluttering from the small elf ’Hehe’ could be heard outside the six-pillar bed.

A rich fragrance lingered at Zheng Qing’s nostrils.

Zheng Qing squinted one eye, his fuzzy gaze fell upon the tarot card filled with crystal gemstones by his pillow.

This was a gift from Elena.

The corner of his mouth couldn’t help but curl into a satisfied smile.

Two days had quietly slipped by since he received this gift.

Perhaps because of his increasingly fulfilling academic life, or perhaps because praying to the tarot card before bed really worked. Ever since he put this card by his pillow, Zheng Qing had been sleeping much more soundly at night.

The light fell on the golden armor of the Knight of Wands on the card, the minute gemstones twinkled with charming colours in the dawn.

Zheng Qing’s slightly open eye blinked fast.

He wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but the color of the card seemed somewhat dimmer than when he first received it.

It was probably just because he was inside the canopy and the light was weak. Zheng Qing thought in a daze, feeling the warmth inside the quilt and really not wanting to move.

The sky outside was getting light, the world outside the window was very refreshing, the early birds were chirping greetings to their companions, dissipating the sleepiness of the night.

Today was Wednesday.

According to his timetable, he had an elective history class in the morning and the Philosophy of Magic in the afternoon.

Because these two classes did not involve the application of specific magic, they were relatively less important to Zheng Qing and his mindset was most relaxed during these classes. Therefore, Wednesday in the whole week’s schedule felt like a holiday that wasn’t a holiday.

While he could afford to be lazy, he still had to attend the classes.

”I think I’m in love,” Zheng Qing turned over, lay weakly on the bed, buried his head in the pillow and groaned drowsily.

”What?” A puzzled voice came from outside the canopy.

It was Dylan.

After the full moon night, this roommate had been bouncing around in dormitory 403 again. His face was rosy and he looked in great spirits, not at all like a werewolf who had been tormented by ’rabies’ for days.

On the contrary, Dylan had been very energetic these past few days.

According to him, this was because the potency of the ’Taste Thorn’ recently produced by the Hundred Herb Gardens had increased a lot, but the wizard who made the ’Wolf Blood Potion’ had not carried out a strict potency analysis beforehand, so there was a slight mistake in the dosage of the magic potion made for him.

Of course, according to the school infirmary doctor who had very prominent eye bags, this was a very small, very small mistake - equivalent to giving Dylan a stimulant.

”It’s completely harmless to the body,” Doctor Ma, also known as the attending physician in charge of werewolf potions at the school infirmary, emphasized emphatically while patting his chest: ”You’ll be very energetic ... of course, some exceptionally energetic people may also experience mild dizziness, tinnitus or a certain degree of insomnia ... the effects will last up to a week, these are all normal reactions, there’s no need to be afraid.”

Doctor Ma’s judgment was very accurate.

After taking the medicine, Dylan was having the longest insomnia of his life.

Of the twenty-four hours in a day, he was excited for about twenty-one. Even while sitting in his huge dark blue coffin, he could not close his eyes.

So this young man with noble blood lineage under the moonlight had to spend night after night tinkering with his exquisite collections.

Things like cufflinks, brooches, tie clips, and a colorful array of uniquely textured pocket squares.

He meticulously cleaned each piece of accessory again and again, not stopping until every facet of it was completely spotless. He would also fold the pocket squares in different styles, only to refold them in a new way the following night.

Zheng Qing thought this poor werewolf, in just two days, had developed a severe case of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

”Zheng Qing, is that you? Are you awake?” Dylan was very quick to pick up on Zheng Qing’s groaning, immediately perking up and starting to chatter non-stop outside the curtain about the thirty-two ways a pocket square could be folded.

Zheng Qing forced himself to sit up cross-legged against the wall. His eyes were only half open, his breathing irregular.

This was his last precious moments before getting up, a time between sleep and wakefulness where he could fully enjoy the comforting feeling of sleepiness while preparing his slowly awakening mind for full alertness.

”I think I’ve fallen in love,” Zheng Qing repeated in a dazed hollow voice what he had just said, ”I think I’m really in love.”

That statement was said with absolute certainty.

Different gasps of astonishment could be heard around the dorm room as the beds in their respective corners creaked.

”What did he just say? I didn’t catch that,” Xin Fat Man’s indistinct voice rang out from outside the curtain, peppered with several disgruntled cat yowls.

”Weren’t you already in a relationship?” Xiao Xiao asked, his voice full of surprise.

”With whom?” Xin Fat Man’s voice was still somewhat muddled.

”Who else other than Elena! Or could it be our fierce female class monitor?” At this time, Dylan did not display the slightest bit of his nobleman’s restraint. Instead, he acted like a gossipy and ill-bred fellow, prompting eagerly, ”Can you really distinguish between liking someone and being in love with them? Quickly, tell me, what does love feel like?”

Zheng Qing lazily snapped his fingers and the little elves excitedly rushed over to help draw the curtains away from his bed.

He squinted his eyes.

The light of day had already arrived, bathing the dorm room in the crisp fresh air of morning, instilling a feeling of exhilaration and liveliness.

Zheng Qing collected the thoughts that had recently flowed through his mind and slowly spoke.

”When talking to her, I feel a warm energy swelling within my chest, making me dizzy,” he said, hesitating to select the appropriate words. ”And seeing her is like taking a stimulant; it’s hard to control my emotions, my thoughts, and feelings all revolving around her.”

”Taking a stimulant isn’t the same as taking a love potion,” Dylan corrected sagely, ”Maybe it would make it difficult for you to control your emotions, but it wouldn’t make you develop feelings for someone of the opposite sex.”

”Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with your training method? It sounds like you’re having a seizure,” Xiao Xiao had already changed into his training attire, adjusting the broad belt while looking in the mirror.

”When I can’t see her, I feel quite sad, always with a sensation of something missing,” Zheng Qing muttered.

”It sounds like you’re describing the effect of a love potion overdose,” Xin Fat Man finally sobered up and, as a senior potion enthusiast, offered his commentary.

”We can’t rule out the effect of some magic spell,” Dylan carefully examined Zheng Qing’s vacant look and aloof expression, then shook his head.

”In short, having her and not, is totally different for me. I can almost touch the love I have for her,” Zheng Qing groaned dramatically.

”Where?” Xin Fat Man peeked his head up from the bottom of the bunk and simultaneously tossed the fat cat away from his pillow.

”In my brain, in my palms, in my breath, in every inch of my skin,” Zheng Qing propped himself up, spread out his arms, and crooned passionately amidst Tuan Tuan’s furious yelling.

”Another idiot gets his reality messed up by his wet dreams?” Xin Fat Man buried his head back under his blanket.

”Soul Light, drop dead!” Zheng Qing flopped back onto his bed with a smack.