Passing through the main gate, the three entered the convention center.

Today’s event was a small exhibition held three times a year. Though it was a modest comic con, crowds had gathered. Inside, it was packed with people; cosplayers in wigs and costumes roamed everywhere. Beyond the throngs, stalls lined the space—video game booths, Japanese snack stands, lucky bags, picture books—a real variety.

For Nangong Shiyu, this wasn’t his first visit. But for Xia Zixin beside him, it was a first.

“So this is what it’s like inside,” Xia Zixin murmured, clinging to Nangong Shiyu’s arm.

“First time here, sis?” asked Luo Qitian, adjusting his black head covering.

“Mm. I’ve seen photos online, but never actually come.”

“How’s it feeling so far?”

“Shouldn’t you ask that when we leave?” Xia Zixin tilted her head slightly.

“Why not now?” Luo Qitian flicked his lighter.

“Hey, is it safe walking beside us with that?” Nangong Shiyu eyed the lighter, goosebumps prickling his arms.

“Relax. The more meme-worthy the moment, the more photos strangers snap, right?”

“I don’t want my face in random phones.”

“Tsk. Not your first rodeo—why so timid?”

“Enough. Where’s Shen Yining?” Nangong Shiyu cut to the chase. “Let’s wrap this act fast so I can do homework.”

Thirteen test papers waited on his desk. Even at top speed, each took over an hour. Cranking through tonight meant little weekend time tomorrow.

“Why rush? Stay and play. Just copy homework from the class geniuses.”

“Copying’s not ideal.”

“Homework volume barely affects grades. If it did, why have teachers? Students could skip class and drill papers at home—perfect, right?”

“…True, but I still dislike copying.”

Nangong Shiyu knew diligent homework had little real value, yet copying felt wrong.

“That’s why you never hang out, Shiyu. I’ve asked you for basketball so many times—you’re always buried in assignments. Pointless.”

“Luo Qitian makes sense, older sister,” Xia Zixin nodded.

“See? Sis agrees.”

“I know you’re right…” Nangong Shiyu felt a wave of dizziness. “But I… don’t want to rely on others.”

“Wrong, bro,” Luo Qitian shot back.

“How?”

“Humans are social. Surviving alone’s impossible. ‘Many hands make light work.’ Homework’s teamwork—you copy mine, I copy yours. Saves time. The test-makers collaborate too. Why force students to solo? Unfair. If they team up, why shouldn’t we?”

“Huh. That kinda tracks.”

“Exactly! Copying fast makes students happy and teachers happy—everyone wins. Why be stubborn? Life’s short—don’t torture yourself.”

“Technically, copying’s fraud. The homeroom teacher would rip you apart.”

“Fraud? For scholars, it’s unity! Mutual aid! Building campus harmony!”

“Fine.” Nangong Shiyu clapped twice. “In this messed-up class, I only bow to you.”

“So you’ll stay and enjoy the con?” Luo Qitian swung his prop scythe.

“Yeah. You’ll borrow homework for me tomorrow?”

“Deal.” Luo Qitian flashed a thumbs-up. “I’ll hit my friend’s doujin stall. Won’t disturb you lovebirds.”

“We’re not a couple…” Nangong Shiyu protested weakly.

“Later.”

“Wait! Where’s Shen Yining?”

“No clue. Haven’t spotted her yet—just know she’ll show.”

If Luo Qitian didn’t know, they’d wander blindly. Nangong Shiyu shook his head.

“Got it. See you.”

“Later.”

Alone with Xia Zixin now, Nangong Shiyu braced to act like a couple—any slip could expose them.

“Xia Zixin, let’s walk. Maybe we’ll bump into her.”

“Mm.”

They’d barely moved when a familiar female voice cut through the noise.

“Nangong Shiyu!”

The tone crackled with anger.