After his afternoon nap, Xia Chuan woke to the dying sunlight slipping through the curtain gaps, painting the room in warm orange-red hues.

He decided to get up for a drink first—lunch had completely drained his body of moisture. Stretching his stiff limbs, he found the pain far less intense than that morning’s. At least he could move well enough to get out of bed now.

After chugging a large glass of water, the dry scratch in his throat finally eased. Seeing he could manage on his own, he started clearing the lunch dishes from the table. Since he was mobile again, he couldn’t let Mo Yao handle the chores.

Years of being a househusband kicked in—he washed the dishes swiftly, though he accidentally dampened some of the bandages wrapped around his torso. As he neatly stacked the clean plates in the cabinet, a satisfied smile tugged at his lips.

*Wait—what the hell am I satisfied about?*

*Am I really walking further down this househusband path?*

Xia Chuan raged internally.

*Knock knock.*

The sudden sound at the door jolted him from his thoughts.

*Who could it be?* Mo Yao wouldn’t knock—she had a key. Wang Yin? No way; she’d just kick the door open. Could it be Liu Yixia? His heart skipped a beat at the thought.

He opened the door with hopeful anticipation.

Reality didn’t deliver. Two figures stood there—a boy and a girl. The boy was his newly adopted disciple, Bai Yifan, a top-tier crossdresser. His visit wasn’t surprising, but the girl beside him?

Xia Chuan knew her all too well.

"What are *you* here for, Miss Northsea?" he asked coldly, locking eyes with the girl.

Northsea Yuxue.

"Hmph. Just checking if you’d kicked the bucket yet," she replied flatly, turning her head away.

Same old sharp tongue. Xia Chuan had never liked her much, so her barb didn’t sting. Still, since she’d come to visit—whatever her motive—he owed her basic courtesy.

"Thanks for your concern, Northsea. I’m still breathing."

*Why did that sound so weird?*

"Master, I never thought you had friends!" Bai Yifan chirped, his delicate face alight with mischief. "A school beauty like her visiting you? Impressive!"

Blunt as ever. Oblivious to Northsea Yuxue’s darkening expression, he kept grinning.

Xia Chuan saw the storm brewing. To save his disciple from instant death, he backpedaled fast:

"Don’t be ridiculous. I could never have a friend as stunning, brilliant, and—uh—*capable* as Northsea Yuxue. She’s just here for something. Don’t get the wrong idea." He watched her face carefully, forcing a smile.

Her expression only grew stormier.

*Did I say something wrong?*

"Stop standing there. Come in and sit," Xia Chuan said hastily, steering them toward the dining table. Northsea Yuxue followed silently, her face still shadowed.

"Master, do you live alone?" Bai Yifan asked.

"For now," Xia Chuan replied.

"What a truly independent man!" Bai Yifan sighed dreamily.

*Xia Chuan almost forgot—this kid’s life goal was to become a "real man."*

"Just... necessity," Xia Chuan murmured under his breath, a bitter smile hidden in his lowered gaze.

"What was that, Master?" Bai Yifan’s sharp ears caught it.

"Nothing! What’ll you drink?" Xia Chuan deflected, panic flashing in his eyes.

"Orange juice!"

"Same," Northsea Yuxue added.

"Sorry. Only cool boiled water." Xia Chuan slid two glasses of plain water across the table.

"Then why even ask?" Bai Yifan rolled his eyes, unbothered.

"To showcase my democratic, freedom-loving personality," Xia Chuan deadpanned.

"...Hah." Bai Yifan gave up.

"So why *are* you here?" Xia Chuan finally asked.

"I heard you were hurt," Bai Yifan said, handing over homework papers. "Brought your assignments. You look healed enough to return tomorrow."

*Superficially, yes.* The worst bruise—a deep purple stain across his back—still hampered his movements, but he’d hidden it well.

"Why were you fighting again?" Northsea Yuxue cut in bluntly. Most would avoid the question to spare his pride. Not her.

Xia Chuan froze.

"You’re not the type to start trouble. You must’ve helped someone. And since you barely know anyone..." Her voice turned icy. "Was it *her* again? If you helped her, why isn’t *she* here? Was it worth it?"

"Stop—" Xia Chuan choked back the words.

"You think it wasn’t worth it either, don’t you? Then why keep playing the fool? None of this was your fault!" Her control snapped.

"What’s it to you, Northsea Yuxue?! Don’t act like you know me!" Xia Chuan erupted. He shot up, towering over her. "Why do you even care?! This is *my* life!" His voice grew harsher with every word—until he saw her face.

The fierce, untouchable Northsea Yuxue looked... broken. Small.

*I...*

Regret hit him like a punch. He’d never understood her—not with their history. But this fragile girl before him? He’d never seen her like this.

"You wanted to know why?" Her voice was barely a whisper now, stripped of all armor. "Because seeing you like this... it *hurts*."

Xia Chuan’s mind went blank.

*Hurts? For me?*

He’d always distrusted her—she’d been there during *that* incident, then kept "coincidentally" appearing in his life. He’d assumed malice. But now... he remembered. She’d done nothing decisive back then. Nothing to justify his isolation.

*What have I done?*

Before he could react, Northsea Yuxue fled. He caught a glimpse of glistening tears in her eyes.

"Master! I don’t get what happened, but *go after her!*" Bai Yifan urged.

"Chase her?" Xia Chuan sank back into his chair, laughing bitterly. *With what right? Why do I always ruin everything?*

"This is your call, Master," Bai Yifan said gently. "But she clearly cares. You should apologize."

"I know. It’s just... a lot to process." Xia Chuan stared at the ceiling. *Hurts? Was that... a confession? Impossible. What could she possibly see in me?* His head throbbed.

"I’ll go. Think it over," Bai Yifan said, leaving the homework behind.

"Be safe," Xia Chuan murmured.

At the door, Bai Yifan turned back. "Oh! The sports festival’s in a few weeks. Teacher Liu wants you for the 10,000-meter race. Okay?"

"Sure," Xia Chuan mumbled, still dazed.

"*Master!*" Bai Yifan beamed. "Truly a man’s resolve!"

*Xia Chuan finally processed the words.*

*10,000 meters?!*

"Bai Yifan!" he yelled—but the door had already clicked shut.

*Ten thousand meters?! Are you kidding me?!* He could only shake his head, helpless laughter bubbling up.

—

"Xia Chuan, we’re back!"

Mo Yao’s voice cut through his frustration moments later.

"Welcome home!" He wiped the grimace off his face, forcing a bright smile.

Mo Yao held Qian Yu in her left arm and a large bag in her right. But carrying a child with one arm was too much for a girl. So as soon as she returned, she slowly set Qian Yu down on the floor.

"Daddy!"

After being placed down, little Qian Yu crawled slowly to Xia Chuan and called out affectionately.

Even after all this time, Xia Chuan still wasn’t quite used to the title. He wasn’t some perverted lolicon—how could he possibly enjoy being called "dad" by a little girl?

Xia Chuan thought this with a stern, righteous expression. Then he silently reached out and gently stroked Qian Yu’s hair.

"Mm, Qian Yu is such a good girl," he said, his face full of contentment.

Well, from now on, I’m officially a true lolicon.

Seeing Xia Chuan playing with Qian Yu, Mo Yao smiled warmly. She then carried the large bag into the kitchen.

"Mo Yao, are you going to cook?" Watching her enter the kitchen, Xia Chuan felt like death was knocking at his door. He asked nervously.

"Mm."

"No, no—let me do it," Xia Chuan stopped playing with Qian Yu and quickly intervened.

Seriously? He admitted Mo Yao’s cooking had improved slightly—in texture, at least. But if a dish was too salty, even perfect texture wouldn’t save it. Xia Chuan could endure it, but he couldn’t let Qian Yu suffer too.

"But you’re still injured. I should cook. Besides, you said my skills were good before," Mo Yao replied, her face slightly flushed. She turned and smiled at him.

Seeing that smile, Xia Chuan shivered for no reason.

No! I must stop her!

"Let me handle it?"

"I said no need."

...

Five minutes later, Xia Chuan finally persuaded Mo Yao.

To convince her this time, he’d used his silver tongue to barely win. Why barely? Because he’d almost knelt down.

Taking back his familiar kitchen knife, Xia Chuan was moved to tears.

Ending his sentimental moment, he began chopping vegetables seriously.

As he chopped, he suddenly stopped. "Mo Yao, there’s something I want to tell you." After calming down, he remembered earlier events and wanted her opinion.

"Go ahead," Mo Yao said. She was clearly a bit unhappy about him taking over her task, but seeing his serious expression, she set aside her petty thoughts.

"Well, I have a friend who knows a female classmate. Their relationship isn’t good—almost hateful. They clash every time they meet. Once, after my friend said harsh things to her, he realized she argued because she cared. So he asked me: what feelings does she have for him, and why? They barely interact."

Naturally, Xia Chuan hadn’t told the real story—he’d made up a similar one.

Mo Yao, being naturally naive, didn’t see through his disguise. She quietly processed his words.

After a while, she slowly shared her thoughts.

"From what you said, that girl at least sees your friend as a close male friend. Something must have happened to make her notice him—it can’t be random. Based on your description, she sounds like a tsundere?"

Friend.

Xia Chuan silently repeated the word in his heart.

After a pause, he asked again. "Even if something happened, it’s not enough to become friends. As far as I know, they had grudges before."

"Don’t underestimate small things. Sometimes a tiny, insignificant event can change how someone who hates you sees you—even make them like you," Mo Yao said earnestly.

Hearing this, Xia Chuan felt his mind clear up. "I understand. I’ll thank you on behalf of my friend," he smiled.

"No problem," Mo Yao smiled back.

"By the way, Mo Yao—what do you think if I go running?" Remembering Bai Yifan’s suggestion, Xia Chuan asked casually.

"Are you joining your school’s sports meet?" Mo Yao countered instead of answering.

Xia Chuan nodded with a bitter smile. Ten thousand meters, not one hundred. Probably because no one else in his class would join, Liu Yuantao had pushed him into it.

"How would I know how you’ll run? I’ve never seen you," Mo Yao smiled.

What kind of answer is that? Xia Chuan thought.

"But..."

"But?"

"I think Xia Chuan running on the track in sportswear would look really cool."

Just when Xia Chuan thought she was done, she said this unexpectedly.

Looking at her smiling face, he froze. Why do you always say such embarrassing things with a straight face?

After staring for a long moment, Xia Chuan finally reacted. His face flushed red as he turned away.

"What’s cool about a delinquent running?" he muttered, but couldn’t help smiling.

And so, Xia Chuan made a certain decision in his heart.