Sure enough, dinner had been too salty, and I needed cool tea to quench my thirst.

Tired of trekking to the living room for refills, I just brought the whole teapot to my bedroom.

Cup after cup—I finished the pot, refilled it, and repeated until I felt like I was turning into a water buffalo.

All thanks to Mom and Jiang Muqing. Using an elder’s and a girl’s goodwill as leverage? Shameless.

“Lu Fan, can you pause for a sec?”

“Can you stop staring at homework and look at me?”

“Lu Fan, I want you to keep me company!”

…

Her forlorn voice echoed beside me, scattering my focus.

“I haven’t finished my cram school assignments. I can’t stop until they’re done,” I snapped at Jiang Muqing, who sat nearby.

“Did *you* finish yours? You’re awfully free to wander around.”

I eyed her skeptically.

“Of course! I started writing it during class so I could play with you the moment I got home,” she declared proudly.

“Is skipping lessons wise?” I frowned.

“I already know everything the teacher teaches.”

“How can you master brand-new material without guidance?” I didn’t buy it.

“I self-study while doing homework. If I hit a snag, I ask the teacher afterward,” she shrugged.

Her learning ability was almost scary—spotting gaps and fixing them alone.

Spotting and solving problems was basic, but solo studying always left me feeling incomplete.

I relied on teachers. Following their roadmap was effortless and safe. Shortcuts? Never crossed my mind.

Jiang Muqing and Guo Tong were the self-taught type. To me, their confidence bordered on arrogance.

*Maybe that’s just how geniuses operate.*

Since she thought so highly of herself, I’d throw her a real challenge—something brain-melting and patience-shattering.

“Ever read light novels?” I set down my pen.

“Novels?” Jiang Muqing tilted her head.

“*Light* novels. You know, anime-style books? I’ve heard of them. Do you like these, Fan?”

Her gaze turned odd.

*Do I really seem like someone who’d hate anime?*

“I thought you only loved studying,” she said, bewildered.

“Studying isn’t a hobby. Nobody actually *likes* it,” I mumbled awkwardly.

“Oh…” She looked lost.

“Light novels are my hobby. Since you’re free, I’ll share a site. Read others’ work first. If you like it, try writing your own.”

I scribbled the URL on scrap paper and handed it over.

“Anything Fan likes, I’ll learn to like too.”

She clutched the paper like treasure and dashed to Dad’s study.

*Don’t be so spineless!*

Dad’s study had a computer. At least this’d calm her restless energy.

Finally, peace to study.

…

An hour later.

Homework done. I stretched in my chair.

No sound from Jiang Muqing’s room. Had she already fallen headfirst into the otaku world? *Potential hikikomori detected.*

I went to check on her in Dad’s study. The computer glowed, but she lay on the bed, buried under blankets.

“What’s wrong?” Her mood felt off.

“Is *this* what Fan likes? It’s terrifying! I can’t accept this version of you!” Her body shuddered beneath the covers.

“What happened?” She’d been fine minutes ago.

“Fan… do you crave a harem? You already have me! I won’t let you be unfaithful!” She pounded the mattress, furious.

“It’s just fiction. That’d never happen in real life.”

*Crap.* I’d forgotten the homepage was flooded with harem wish-fulfillment trash. Totally inappropriate for her.

“Then… you want to become a girl and chase boys? If that day comes, I’ll turn into a boy myself to stay with you!” Her voice was fierce.

“That’s even more impossible! My family can’t afford gender reassignment—and I’m straight! I only like real girls!”

*Worse.* Half those harem recs were gender-bender stories.

*My ugly junk versus a harem of beauties? I’d pick my junk any day.*

Losing it to become a girl… what’s the point of a harem then? Just eye candy and endless loneliness.

Cuddling girls while daydreaming, getting aggressively yuri’d, or reverse-harem’d by hot guys—even meeting your past male self and getting “pushed” by him…

*Artistic expression deserves open-minded appreciation*, I told myself. But Jiang Muqing? A light novel newbie? She’d think I was a pervert. A pervert she wanted to *become*.

I’d already warped her innocent worldview.

“So… Fan actually likes boys? Not girls at all?!”

Jiang Muqing flung off the blankets, dragged me to the computer, and shoved a webpage in my face.

One glance—and I nearly spat out my tea.

…

It was *my* mecha novel. Labeled “Boys’ Love Mecha” like a horror warning.

*Did she know I wrote it?*

Impossible. My password and ID were secret. *Coincidence.*

“The author seems like you,” she said, studying my face suspiciously.

“Like me?”

Could a random story really expose me? This wasn’t just “women’s intuition.”

“The MC acts warm to everyone, and everyone adores him—but he never shows his true self to anyone.”

*My story?* I rejected that instantly. For both the novel and myself.

“He always takes on the most dangerous missions alone. Bears all the suffering in silence. Never tells anyone what he’s been through.”

*Did I write that?* I’d just wanted to highlight the MC’s skills with morally gray solo ops—necessary evils for victory.

“Just like you, Fan. You always look burdened. You never share what’s on your mind with me or Auntie.”

Her bright eyes pierced through me, demanding truth.

…

She was right.

My own actions were morally gray too. Not grand, ugly sacrifices like the MC’s—but deceiving a girl’s heart? Nothing to be proud of.

If curing Jiang Muqing meant she’d hate me later? Fine. I wouldn’t flinch. She was just a stranger anyway.

Romance was a distant dream. Right now, I only cared about studying.

And reaching my ultimate goal.