I climbed into bed, pulled up the blanket, and grabbed my phone. A bright light shone on my face.

With smartphones everywhere, many people enjoy scrolling before bed. Checking news, browsing Weibo, following friends' updates, or chatting with strangers online to ease loneliness.

Talking to strangers has one perk: they’re unrelated to you. You can vent suppressed emotions freely, no consequences. But be careful—venting about daily troubles is fine. Never trust money requests; stay sharp to avoid scams.

I’m no exception. After intense studying, I usually play with my phone before sleep. Unlike others, I skip news and social updates. Honestly, I can’t change national affairs. Others’ lives? Not my concern.

My messaging contacts are few and rarely post. Nothing to follow anyway. I don’t chat with strangers—it’s pointless and wastes time. Faking friendliness all day exhausts me. I won’t listen to online complaints too.

I hate talking to cold screens. Face-to-face chats are real—sight, sound, and smell together. That’s true connection.

In bed, I plug in earphones. I listen to sleep-friendly instrumental music while reading heartwarming essays in an app. If still awake, I open a vocabulary app. Memorizing long English words works better than counting sheep. Spelled words feel like complex codes—more hypnotic than pictographs.

But today, I face severe insomnia I’ve never known. I’ve looped the music playlist endlessly. I’ve “drunk” all the essays—they’re digested. Those long words? I can’t memorize them.

Tomorrow starts summer cram school. Without sleep, my focus will crash. I’m so exhausted.

...

Heavy rains lately keep my room cool without AC. The space is dark, quiet, and perfect for sleep. The bed is soft and comfy. Yet I can’t rest.

Why? Someone appeared beside me unexpectedly. Her breathing, the damp warmth from her body, her unique scent—all tangibly disrupt my senses. If it were a guy, I’d manage. But it’s a real, live girl!

Jiang Muqing hasn’t acted outrageously. Still, she lies right here, sharing my blanket. The physical excitement won’t calm. What do I do? This heat is unbearable.

To hide my embarrassment, I—who usually sleep in just boxers—wore full pajamas. Armored up, I face her like flammable material.

I keep scrolling my phone to mask unease. Jiang Muqing lies motionless in the dark beside me. Is she asleep? I glance sideways. Her eyes are wide open, staring intently at me.

... Speechless.

*Granny, please sleep!* I thought. *Once you’re out, I’ll sneak to Dad’s study.*

“New message!”

A chat notification popped up. Who messages this late? Curious, I opened the app. Mom’s pink cherry blossom avatar had a red “1.”

“Stupid son, too excited to sleep? I’ll indulge you this once—no repeats. Enjoy, but no funny business! I’m working overnight next door. Hear weird sounds? I’ll rush in with a kitchen knife!” A kiss emoji followed.

I knew Mom wouldn’t be that careless. Leaving two hormonal teens alone? If nothing happened, *that’d* be weird.

“I thought you were eager for grandkids, Mom. Want a whole litter tonight?” I sent a mischievous emoji.

“Xiao Fan isn’t casual. I trust you completely.” Her tone was firm.

“Mom, can’t you see? We’re dating! High school romance isn’t allowed. You delivered your son’s girlfriend to his bed. If I do nothing tonight, I’d fail your love!” Another mischievous emoji.

*Heh. After this, I had to retaliate. Let her fear becoming a grandma all night.*

...

After silence, Mom replied: “Xiao Fan, others don’t know you. I do. You don’t bring girls home lightly. Your feelings for Xiao Qing? Just pity.”

*She figured it out. Parents always know.*

“Mom, you know? How?” I typed, incredulous. Bringing a girl home *looks* like dating.

“I can’t explain. It feels off. Your gaze at Xiao Qing isn’t affection. Call it a woman’s intuition.” A cute face emoji.

“It’s complicated, Mom. She’s a huge hassle.” I sighed, sending a sad face.

“I believe Xiao Fan can handle it. You took her in—take responsibility!” Mom made it sound easy.

“I’ll try. But I’m scared. I might fail. The consequences could be severe.” I worried about Jiang Muqing’s and my future.

“What consequences?!” A surprised emoji.

“Nothing.” I’d slipped. Denied fast.

“Xiao Qing seems withdrawn, maybe from family issues. Help her socialize, Xiao Fan. Her life might improve.” Mom had noticed Jiang Muqing’s struggles.

“I’ll try.” But it wasn’t just shyness.

“I said it: Xiao Qing stays until she’s healed. I’ll help. Xiao Fan, take this seriously—care for her well.” Mom’s kindness never wavered.

“Well, okay.” I replied without confidence.