I Became a Rhododendron: Using Straight Male Thinking to Save Daiyu

He knew this face. Didn't meet in reality. I met him through books, on the screen, and in the TV series he watched four times. He opened his mouth. The girl in the bronze mirror also opened her mouth. "... Zijuan?" The sound isn't right either. It wasn't his rough voice that his roommates mocked as "like a forty-year-old chain smoker", but a clear, soft voice of a girl with a slight southern accent. He took a step back. Take another step back. His back collided with the ancient shelf, and the incense burner shook. He reflexively reached out to hold it - the slender white hand held the incense burner steadily, much faster than he imagined. This is the body of Rhododendron. These hands held the medicine bowl, carried the tea tray, combed Daiyu's hair, and tucked Daiyu's quilt. These movements are engraved in the muscles and cannot be controlled by his will. He is Lin Zhe. Sophomore in the Chinese Department. One meter eighty five. Play power forward in basketball. The dormitory is on the upper bunk. There was a sticky note taped to the upper bunk. But now he is Zicuckoo.