Su Xiaoyue didn’t understand emotions.

Only a handful of people realized this. Most assumed she was merely cold toward strangers.

But to Yun Mingxin, wasn’t he just a slightly familiar stranger too?

He wasn’t some desperate simp. With Su Xiaoyue, everything—meals, purchases—was always split evenly.

She’d insisted on it. Sometimes, she’d even gift him expensive items.

Had he not broken up with her, they might have continued indefinitely. Even married.

After all, besides him—her boyfriend—and her best friend, Su Xiaoyue never spared extra words for anyone.

Yet Yun Mingxin never felt her love. She was as unfeeling as stone.

He was no brave soul.

He’d long given up trying to melt that ice.

Again, he unlocked his phone. His finger trembled as he tapped Su Xiaoyue’s profile picture.

Since adding her, he’d never seen her change it.

Her avatar remained a still, clear spring.

His contact name for her read: *Lucky in the next life*.

He’d always known it would end like this.

For a fleeting moment after the breakup, relief washed over him.

He was never truly right for her. No need to dwell.

Now, without hesitation, his thumb flew to the delete button.

After removing Su Xiaoyue, genuine relief settled in Yun Mingxin’s chest.

He hadn’t felt this light in a year.

A tiny pang of loss lingered, but it was nothing serious.

He tapped another contact—Er Gouzi. The guy’s avatar was indeed a dog: a male husky.

*Er Gouzi, get your ass out here. Let’s grab food.*

*Whoa. Did the sun rise from the west today? You’re actually inviting me out?*

*Shut it. I just broke up. Move your butt.*

*Holy crap—seriously? Fine, wait up. Second floor cafeteria. Shuangqing noodles.*

The reply came instantly. No trace of someone who’d had a girlfriend for three years.

Er Gouzi’s real name was Yun Renkun. Same surname as Yun Mingxin.

Their meeting felt almost fated.

They’d attended different high schools in the same city, total strangers.

Yet their college entrance exam scores matched exactly. They’d applied to the same major at the same university.

Even their surnames were identical.

(Though Yun Renkun was straight.

So this was clearly destiny—father and son.

Yun Mingxin, naturally, was the "father.")

After bonding in the freshman WeChat group, they became fast friends.

Somehow, "bro" evolved into "dog."

Older Yun Mingxin became "Gouzi." Younger Yun Renkun became "Er Gouzi."

Such was the inexplicable bond of male friendship.

Just as Yun Mingxin mused this—

A new message jolted him.

From his childhood friend.

*Little Xin! I’m coming to see you!*

*Huh??*

Yun Mingxin blinked.

His airheaded, ever-chubby childhood friend—suddenly visiting?

She hadn’t since he got a girlfriend.

Telepathy? Or had she bugged him?

He couldn’t refuse after so long apart.

Amid Yun Renkun’s protests about "choosing girls over bros," Yun Mingxin postponed the noodle date.

His childhood friend had a poetic name: Zhan Mengxi.

It suited a quiet bookworm—but she’d gone wildly off-script.

Not a shred of grace. Just boundless energy.

He’d met her when her sixth-grade soccer kick shattered his window.

In middle school, he’d often feel a pen poking his back during class.

Turning around, he’d find Zhan Mengxi holding a composition notebook, a circle already drawn in the grid.

Their secret game: tic-tac-toe on notebook paper.

He’d taken many scoldings alongside her for it.

Knowing Zhan Mengxi’s habits, Yun Mingxin waited at Mixue Bingcheng.

He bought two cups of mango pomelo sago, then headed to their spot.

A massive commercial plaza—a paradise for otaku.

Less than a minute after arriving, soft hands covered his eyes. A warm touch lingered.

*Guess who I am! Prize if you’re right!*

Yun Mingxin’s lips curled. *I’m guessing the girl who screams "Enkidu is my husband," hugs her Saber pillow yelling "Yes, Master," guzzles bubble tea daily, stands five-foot-two, and weighs over a hundred pounds—*

Before he finished, a palm slammed his back.

*Hah!*

Yun Mingxin turned, laughing.

Zhan Mengxi wore twin tails today.

Her petite face was doll-like and flawless. A Lolita dress and knee-high white socks made her look straight out of an anime.

Most shocking was her chest—almost unrealistically ample.

No average girl came close to a third of that.

Hard to believe a college student could look like a loli yet have such... proportions.

Yun Mingxin often joked her bubble tea and mango pomelo sago all went straight there.

Cheeks puffed like a hamster’s, Zhan Mengxi glared, utterly childlike.

No one would guess this girl once split classroom desks for firewood to roast sweet potatoes.

*Meanie! Meanie!*

*Little Xin’s gotten so bad! You used to play along nicely! Now you’re exposing my secrets! You’re not my best friend anymore!*

She’d nicknamed him "Little Xin" after the cartoon character Crayon Shin-chan.

His given name "Mingxin" was meant to symbolize carrying hopes like kindling fire.

Instead, he’d lived like an underachiever.

Zhan Mengxi never missed a chance to tease him: *"Even that potato-headed kid knows how to flirt. You? Eighteen years single. A walking female-repellent."*

After finally getting a girlfriend... he’d just broken up.

He glanced at Zhan Mengxi.

Flawless looks. Undisputed campus goddess at her university.

He’d never understood why they hadn’t ended up together.

Not that he disliked her. It just felt... predetermined.

Back then, Su Xiaoyue had been a *tsundere* falling from the sky.

Sky-born lovers always crushed childhood friends.

After binge-watching *Dumb Girl* last summer,

Yun Mingxin had a new theory:

Some beings had "reproductive isolation" with humans.

And his childhood self...

Zhan Mengxi, happily sipping her mango pomelo sago, suddenly stiffened.

She narrowed her eyes at Yun Mingxin. A dangerous glint flickered deep within.

*Little Xin...*

*You’re thinking something incredibly rude right now, aren’t you?*