After watching the video, a long silence hung between them...

"I..."

"You..."

They spoke in perfect unison.

"You first."

"You first."

"Alright, I’ll go," Qin Yi cut in swiftly, dodging the awkward pause. "You turn into a cat—that’s confirmed. The *what* is settled. Now, the *why*. Is it because of this alarm clock?"

"Alarm clock?" Lin Jin froze for a moment.

"Haven’t both incidents happened after you slept, triggered by that clock?"

"Yeah..."

"Could the clock itself be the problem?"

"Impossible. What could possibly be wrong with an alarm clock?" Lin Jin hesitated.

"Whether it is or not, only two variables exist in your transformations: sleep and the clock. Eliminate one, and the answer’s clear."

Qin Yi’s calm analysis steadied Lin Jin’s racing heart. Sharing the burden lifted a weight off his chest—at last, someone to turn to. Especially *this* someone. A genius.

Yes, Qin Yi was a genius. Everyone in the residential compound knew it. Top of his town’s middle school entrance exams. First in his high school class, second countywide. Even Lin Jin’s own top-100 county ranking paled beside Qin Yi’s legendary scores.

A genius’s advice was genius-level. Lin Jin’s foggy thoughts cleared instantly—yet doubt lingered.

"You... don’t think I’m crazy?"

"One person can be crazy. Not two." Qin Yi’s reply was steel.

His childhood friend’s unwavering certainty warmed Lin Jin’s anxious heart.

"So... what now?" Instinctively, Lin Jin surrendered to Qin Yi’s reliability.

"Don’t set your alarm tonight. Sleep normally. I’ll wake you at midnight."

"Okay." Lin Jin nodded obediently.

Qin Yi slipped out, closing the door behind him.

Alone on the bed, Lin Jin let the relief sink in. The whole thing was undeniably bizarre—enough to break anyone, especially at this critical point in his life. He’d secretly searched online using his mom’s phone, even asked doctors and strangers. Their verdict? "See a psychiatrist. Senior year stress." But he *knew* this wasn’t madness.

Now, finally, someone else knew too.

He’d just stripped down to sleep when he realized—he’d forgotten to give Qin Yi his room keycard.

Scrambling out of bed, he yanked on a T-shirt and bolted out.

"Qin Yi! Qin Yi!"

He hammered on the door. Qin Yi opened it, slippers dangling from one hand, browser tabs glowing on his screen.

"What’s wrong?"

"The keycard. For my room."

Qin Yi took it, studying his friend. Maybe it was seeing him transform firsthand, but Lin Jin seemed... different now. His oversized T-shirt accentuated slender legs and a petite frame. *Just an illusion*, Qin Yi thought. Lin Jin still stood a head shorter than him, just like always.

Lin Jin lingered at the doorway after handing over the card.

"Something else?"

"Th-thanks," Lin Jin murmured.

"For what? With us? No thanks needed."

They’d been the only kids their age in the compound. Closer than brothers since diaper days—climbing trees, teaming up for school projects, even joking about their future kids marrying. Only lately had Qin Yi’s hardened demeanor and Lin Jin’s quiet nature made them seem less tight. But some bonds never frayed.