The Taming of the Yandere Volume 2 Chapter 8
Jan 28, 2018
V2 Chapter 8: Alaskan Frozen Volcano
In conclusion, light novels are not a suitable hobby for Jiang Muqing.
It was just like injecting an allergic medicine into a patientâs bloodstream, causing a massive negative response.
After I explained with great difficulty, she finally realized that authors might not be the same as the novels they write. Although a protagonistâs mind can be similar to the writer, a great majority of characters are purely for the sake of plot.
Just like a professional actor casting a character in a movie set, it didnât mean that he/she had to have the same characteristics or personality as the individual they were playing as.
There are indeed writers who implement a protagonistâs personality as a part of themselves, but the actual number of people who do that are very little.
So people who write about harem donât necessarily want harem, people who write about gender-benders arenât necessarily dissatisfied with their bodies, and people who write about homosexualâŠ.
Iâve never written about that in the first place, okay?!
But Jiang Muqing wasnât fully convinced.
âIf the author doesnât write from their own heart, then whatâs the point? It just feels like a wall of text, blocking the readersâ view. Itâs hard to even breathe in that situation, then.â
The young girl gazed at me innocently. She even seemed a bit angry.
Writing a light novel from your own heart?
Who would actually try to go write a light novel?
Harems could possibly exist in reality, right? Like those really handsome men, opening a full harem from presence alone, do you really think that theyâll have the time to write their stories into a light novel? Just caring for his harem should be enough work for him.
As for those transsexual people, the ones who really want to become the opposite gender, and are trying their hardest to forget the original sex⊠Who would write a crazy story where their hearts are men but bodies are women?!
And homosexualâŠ.
I personally havenât thought about this before, and donât have desire to think much further. For so many people to think my novel was yaoi when it really isnât, my heart really wants to shatter to pieces.
Donât even mention writing from my âown heartâ.
âI still donât really understand it, but Iâm glad that Fan isnât like those novel characters. Not being an f-boy, not becoming a girl, and not liking other boys; as long as Fan only likes me, itâs the best I can wish for.â
After our long discussion, the girl finally calmed down. Then, she happily opened her arms, and jumped up to hug me tenderly.
This sickness is really getting severeâŠ.
Are you sure that Iâll just immediately love you after you confess to me? Ironically, doesnât that sound like something that would happen in novels?
âI only love you alone.â I stroked the girlâs long, silky hair.
At least, until you are tamed.
âŠ..
The cram classroom.
I really canât deny that Mo Shiyu is a good studying partner. No matter how hard the problem was, she would help me solve it to the very end.
But her questions on math and science were unnaturally easy, they were very basic problems in my eyes. A great majority of them were no-brainers that could be solved with a simple equation.
During discussion, the majority of the time was spent by me explaining, and her listening quietly across me. There wasnât much exchange or feedback.
I suspected that she wasnât listening at all. When I raised my head to look at her, our eyes met.
âIs there something on my face?â
âNo, please continue.â
Our conversations were short and curt. I continued to explain, while quizzing her on some problems that were easy to miss to make sure she was listening. Mo Shiyu answered correctly, too.
When I decided that she should be all fine, and prepared to end the session, she pointed out multiple questions with a blank look on her face, asking me to walk through the problems.
But her problems were indeed difficult, so even I had to really think for a couple of questions.
We discussed back and forth repeatedly. Cram school had ended long ago, but Mo Shiyu and I were still in the room.
The cram school was a set of rented classrooms from a private school, and air didnât flow very well within the building. There were no air conditioners but a few fans on the ceiling.
The searing sunlight raised the previously cool temperature to unbearable levels.
Our room was closed off, so it was even more stuffy. After a while, my forehead was glistening with sweat, and my T-shirt started to stick to my back in dampness.
Mo Shiyu also couldnât bear the heat. Although her ponytail provided some comfort to her scalp, sweat still ran down the sides of her head.
She kept wiping her sweat with the back of her hand, and looked absolutely miserable. Her white collared shirt was drenched in sweat, and even started to shine. The shape of her bra became distinct through her back and underarms.
I unconsciously started to peek at her body.
Why would I look at those strange places without thinking?
I really am a normal boy.
Mo Shiyu didnât look like she cared, though. She even pulled open her collar, and yanked at her bra to fan some cool air under there.
Idiot, are you not aware that thereâs an entire boy in front of you?
Agh, neither of us can study in this state, soâŠ.
âClass Rep, itâs too hot in the classroom, Iâll treat you to ice cream. Thereâs an ice cream shop across the street thatâs not bad, and thereâs AC inside. We can study in there, and weâll definitely be more efficient.â
âOh⊠OkayâŠ.â
Her face was already glowing red from the heat.
âŠâŠ
Studying can really be productive in air-conditioned rooms. Our burnt-out brains were quickly cooled by the chilly air from the AC.
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After packing up my books, I laid back tiredly on the ice cream shopâs sofa chair. Mo Shiyu also finished at the same time, and she looked around in alert.
The shop was furnished in cold tones of wallpaper and decorations. The floor was light gray, and the ceiling was paved with black tiles. Beautiful calligraphy was stenciled on the pale walls.
Rows of transparent refrigerators sat behind the reception desk, full with all kinds of ice cream and drink flavors. The chef stood behind the desk, mixing different kinds of ice cream together, molding creative shapes in adorned glassware.
Looking at Mo Shiyuâs excited and curious expression, sheâs probably never been to this kind of shop before, right?
At this time, the waitress saw that we were done with our schoolwork. She pushed her trolley, and served our ordered ice cream.
Two massive glass bowls of mountainous ice cream were placed carefully in front of us by the waitress. Dark chocolate ice cream was sculpted into the shape of a volcano, interesting. I turned the bowl around to look at the design.
Mo Shiyu already couldnât wait, with a spoon already in her hand. But the cute, polite waitress raised her hand to stop her.
âMiss, please wait a bit. This dish isnât finished yet.â
As she talked, she took out a lighter from her pocket, and lit the âvolcanoâ tops.
Sparks flew from the âmountaintopsâ.
Honestly, I never ordered this kind of ice cream before, but since I was treating the Class Rep, I felt that I should at least order something nice. So I split my wallet, and bought an ice cream meal that was a little more expensive.
We watched the tiny sparks travel inside the mouth of the volcano, and nothing happened.
âIs the fire out or something?â
I felt that the special act had failed, and glanced at the smiling waitress with a tight expression.
Suddenly, the volcano mouth exploded a flurry of sparks directly upward, and jumped both of us.
Is this really not dangerous?!
I instinctively inched backward.
Crimson âlavaâ poured from the âvolcanoâ, running down the sides.