(So fragrant, so firm and chewy 🥰...)

She devoured a soup dumpling in one bite.

(So sweet, so smooth 😍...)

She slurped down soy milk greedily.

Hua Xin sat on the balcony floor, back to the door, wolfing down her "last meal." A faint milky smear lingered at her lips, like she’d just stolen a milk-squirting lollipop.

"Where’s Xiang Guan?" Xia Yan asked, sipping water, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Gone to be a lapdog," Mu Feng replied flatly from his bed, phone in hand. But his eyes kept drifting toward the girl.

What’s going on? Why is the boss in our dorm?

Could it be... 😨

Mu Feng’s heart skipped a beat.

Had he been caught slacking off??

He pictured class gossip: everyone whispering about his midnight crafts and scraps dumped under his roommate’s bed to cover it up. 😱

Mu Feng jumped up, eager to prove loyalty. Slightly tense, he asked:

"Bro Yan, where to later?"

Xia Yan hesitated. He was fetching costumes from the student union—but why this question?

Could it be... 🤔

Another spy in this dorm?

He mused, "Student union. For today’s performance clothes and props."

"Why?"

"Nothing. I’m used to guarding an empty room."

Xia Yan’s suspicion vanished.

Lin Qingyu could flip Xiang Guan with Xiao Ling, but reality couldn’t tempt Mu Feng.

Because that’s how 2D is.

Xia Yan felt a flicker of relief.

Sure enough, 2D folks are hard to fool.

"I’ll leave Hua Xin to you. Let her be; she won’t disturb your sleep."

"Remind Xiang Guan when he’s back."

"Oh, copy that."

"Leave it to me."

Mu Feng waved from his top bunk.

*Click.* The door shut, silence reclaiming the dorm.

Boss...

Seen my efforts? 🥺... Hiding beside someone with 87 million combat power... uh, whatever. Never mind.

He sat up, moved, peering toward the balcony.

Too far—only colorful underwear hung drying.

Anime maidens clasping hands mid-air, tongues out licking nothing, a proud wolf head, pinkish-purple prints...

............

No sweat.

Boss won’t know whose. Blame Bro Yan if asked. 😋

"Full."

Hua Xin patted her belly, eyeing the empty bowl and soy milk bottle. Great mood.

Freeloaded again.

Die without regrets...

Mask on, she tiptoed to the door’s glass pane, peering inside.

Gone?

Or staying with Lin Qingyu tonight...

Puzzled, she grabbed her backpack and opened the door.

"Private First Class Mu Feng, Class of 2024, reporting!"

"Loy! Alty! 😎"

Mu Feng leapt down, snapping a rigid salute before Hua Xin.

Hua Xin: ...

"G-Good job."

"Where’s Xia Yan?"

She stepped back twice, hand near the windowsill thermos. His possessed stare made her wary.

"Reporting, boss! Xia Yan’s at student union for performance gear. Over!"

"Aff! Ection! 😎"

She swallowed hard.

Without dirt on Mu Feng, she’d never approach him.

Seriously... terrifying.

Xia Yan out meant he’d be gone awhile. Just her and Mu Feng...

A bold plan sparked.

"X-Xia Yan won’t be back soon, right?"

"Yes!"

"Which bed’s his?"

Mu Feng pointed solemnly to the left bed by the door.

(You slipped up... Bro Yan 😈...)

(Your roommate’s my spy already. Heh heh heh.)

(Your stronghold... let’s see what you hide.)

(I’ll PDF it and flood the net 😈...)

"Ah, sunny, handsome Xia Yan’s all fake—a slimy, damp scumbag hooking up with girls..."

I’ve won.

Victory’s mine.

Hua Xin strode calmly to Xia Yan’s desk, sitting slowly.

Sigh...

Victory hit too fast; she didn’t know where to start (excited).

Mu Feng stood statue-still nearby, watching her open Xia Yan’s drawer.

Brother’s privacy vs. his own dirt—he stayed silent.

Truthfully, he knew Xia Yan wasn’t two-faced.

Xia Yan united their class into harmony—zero conflicts since day one.

How could he be fake...

*Plop.*

A small blue packet, serrated edges for tearing, tumbled out.

Silence 🤔.

Silence 😨.

Mu Feng’s eyes bloodshot, veins bulging, locked on the packet...

Impossible! 😡

Absolutely impossible!

Bro Yan—the single, social-butterfly, sunny Mr. Nice Guy—using monthlies before them...

"Wet wipe?"

Hua Xin picked it up, placing it on the table.

*Phew...* Mu Feng relaxed. Good.

"Nail clipper, band-aid, scissors, tape, pens, unopened cards, Three Kingdoms Killer..."

Next layer! Hua Xin thought stubbornly.

Dirty secrets hide deep! 👊🏻

She skimmed two more layers—nothing suspicious.

"Strange..."

She shoved the drawer shut, flushed with anger, eyes anxious.

No sweat. Suitcase and closet left!

Fake Xia Yan had to have dirt! At least one little umbrella! 😡

Closet held simple clothes and... a can of preserved eggs?

Hua Xin stared silently at the suitcase.

Mu Feng chimed in: "Boss, Xia Yan’s suitcase is password-locked. Unknown to me. Over."

She clenched her fists, eyes burning under her hair with frustration.

Suddenly, keys on the table caught her eye.

"This is... from that night..."

Hua Xin picked up Xia Yan’s car keys. That fleeting familiarity returned.

A scratched, worn acrylic wolf keychain hung prominently.

She frowned, forgetting her search.

Fingers rubbed the keychain unconsciously.

Something stirred deep in her memory.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t recall it.