In the vast living room, only two figures—one small, one tall—faced the racing game on TV, both unconsciously leaning sideways.

Hua Fu sat curled in the armchair, book propped on her lap, but her attention lingered on Chi Yuzhou.

This brooding classmate, always napping in the back row whenever free, seemed… oddly childlike?

Though she hid her face for her own reasons, Chi Yuzhou had shown little reaction beyond initial surprise upon seeing her true appearance.

That was fine. No need for warnings—he likely wouldn’t blab anyway.

Yet in class, besides the vice monitor Hua Qi, no one ever sought Chi Yuzhou for idle chatter.

His loneliness at school might even rival her own.

Hua Fu’s thoughts were interrupted as her younger sister, homework in hand, padded over from her room.

“Jie, how do I solve this?”

“First, calculate this part…”

“Oho~”

As Fu Zihan finished her last problem, she glanced at her brother, now gleefully playing with the gloomy “big brother.”

“Let me play too!”

She plopped onto the sofa, snatched the controller from her brother, and instantly mirrored his tilted posture toward the screen.

Fu Ziyang shot his elder sister a look. Receiving no response, he sulked into silent observation—until Fu Zihan’s clumsy driving flipped the on-screen car. His frown instantly melted into loud laughter.

Playtime flew. Just as Chi Yuzhou grasped the game controls, the children’s eyelids grew heavy.

They tugged at Hua Fu’s hands.

“Sorry—they always nap afternoons.”

“No trouble,” Chi Yuzhou shrugged, setting down the controller with a reluctant glance at the paused race.

Seeing the kids rubbing their eyes, Hua Fu gently prompted:

“Be good. We should see our guest out, right?”

“Mhm!”

At the door, Hua Fu said, “Thanks for today, Chi Yuzhou.”

“No problem. Bye.”

Hua Fu opened her mouth—but before she could speak, her brother’s sleepy voice piped up:

“Big brother… can you come play again?”

“Not sure.”

The game’s thrill had softened Chi Yuzhou’s view of kids.

“Then… visit when you’re free, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

...

Walking home, Chi Yuzhou let the afternoon’s ease melt into the setting sun’s glow.

Time blurred in the game—he’d just grabbed the controller moments ago.

And that was only one title among many. Human entertainment truly was remarkable.

A quiet sigh escaped him. Then, his reflection in a shop window caught his eye.

He hadn’t expected Hua Fu—seemingly plain like him—to hide features rivaling Xiao Yingwan’s.

No classmate had noticed the delicate face beneath her bangs and glasses. Her disguise ran deeper than his own.

He recalled Hua Fu’s interrupted words at the door. She was avoiding risks too, perhaps.

But that wasn’t his concern.

Passing a shop, he bought two steamed buns. Taking a bite, he pulled out his phone.

The price on screen sparked a flicker of anticipation.

True gaming freedom still felt distant.

*Eat buns. Study with Xiao Yingwan’s notes. Sleep hard.*

This unexpected day off had been pure bliss.

Back in his chilly apartment, self-study progressed slowly. Xiao Yingwan’s notes helped—he could tackle the just-right problems.

By seven, twilight painted the window in fiery hues.

As Chi Yuzhou debated how many packs of “breakfast jelly” to eat, a knock sounded.

“Teacher Guan?”

Guanmingxue stood at the door, hit by a wave of cold air. She held a food box, eyes discreetly scanning the room.

The combined living-sleeping space was spacious, yet bare.

*So cold… What if my little shota froze here?*

Disappointment flickered—no white-haired boy in sight. She cleared her throat.

“Eaten dinner?”

“Not yet.”

“Perfect. I cooked extra. Hate wasting food.” She offered the box, noting his slender frame. “If you don’t mind…”

“…Thanks.”

“No need.”

Once Chi Yuzhou accepted it, Guanmingxue retreated next door.

Her kitchen gleamed, wet utensils dripping softly. Her own room—same layout, plus a gaming desk—felt cozy despite the downgrade from her luxury apartment.

She booted up a shota-filled otome game.

Since meeting the neighbor’s brother, all in-game lads felt dull. The memory of that small body in her arms haunted her.

Cooking for Chi Yuzhou was strategic.

Beyond teacher-student duty, she’d build a “reliable adult” image…

*Someday… he might need a neighbor to babysit his little brother…*

“Hehehe…”

A dreamy giggle echoed in the soundproofed room, her smile bright with schemes.