Guyen sat on the sofa, feeling rather uneasy. After all, this was someone else’s home—he couldn’t just touch things randomly. Plus, he didn’t know where to look, afraid of stumbling on something awkward again.

The bedroom door opened again, and Jiang Juan stepped out. He’d changed out of his women’s clothing, now wearing a simple white shirt and jeans. His small face looked plain, almost bland, with lake-blue eyes radiating detachment.

Guyen’s lips twitched. He wasn’t sure if it was psychological or if Jiang Juan had already formed a fixed image in his mind. This serene, elegant youth now seemed like a girl who’d sneaked into her boyfriend’s shirt.

They faced each other across the sofa, silent for a moment, the atmosphere awkward. Finally, Guyen couldn’t hold back. “Uh, that live stream was pretty good.”

Jiang Juan truly understood heart-stopping shock. Seriously, why bring up the one thing he dreaded? You’d killed the conversation stone dead.

“Can we not talk about this?” Jiang Juan said with a gentle smile, looking at Guyen.

“Of course, of course.” Guyen realized his slip, nodded instinctively, then turned his head away to avoid Jiang Juan’s gaze.

Whoa—this side was filled with women’s clothing. The window was open, curtains billowing in the wind, a few dresses seeming to wave playfully at him.

Guyen quickly snapped his head back, only to meet those lake-blue eyes again. He was so done.

Jiang Juan watched Guyen, puzzled, as he turned his head back and forth like he was dancing. Following his gaze, Jiang Juan’s eyes landed on the window.

“............” Jiang Juan’s cheeks flushed that familiar red. He really felt Guyen was sent by heaven to annoy him.

He was always careful with his women’s clothing—even when at school, he kept them in storage boxes hidden deep in the walk-in closet.

Why had he taken them out to wash tonight? Because this afternoon, Jiang Juan had looked at the dusty school uniform he’d inexplicably brought back. It reminded him of the clothes in the box, and he’d suddenly wanted to tidy up.

Tomorrow was his day off. He’d wash them tonight, spin-dry, hang them on the rack, close the curtains—it’d be safe. He’d pack them away at dawn. Who’d visit at midnight anyway, let alone enter his living room?

Jiang Juan closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself not to dwell on it. Calming down, he looked at Guyen. “What is it? Spit it out.”

Seeing Jiang Juan couldn’t even fake a smile anymore, Guyen felt uneasy. “I was wondering if I could crash here tonight. Is that okay?”

“What, crash here?!” Jiang Juan’s voice rose involuntarily. He stared at Guyen, unable to grasp why he’d ask this.

“Of course, don’t worry. We won’t share a bed. The sofa’s fine for me.”

“Ugh, seriously—I’m speechless. Sharing a bed? Giving you the sofa? Why don’t I just teach you a lesson?” Jiang Juan had given up keeping up appearances. Whatever. What else didn’t Guyen know?

“Don’t be so heartless. Weren’t we having fun during that live stream?” Guyen, thick-skinned as ever, raised an eyebrow, leaned back on the sofa, and crossed his legs, watching Jiang Juan.

Jiang Juan’s slender fingers clenched tightly, his lips curling into a cold smile. “You’d better not bring that up. Hmm, Juan-er, Juan-er... I think your brain’s fried.”

“Didn’t you say this nickname was great? Juan-er, Juan-er, Juan-er.” Guyen rested his left hand on his raised knee, propped his chin on his palm, and watched Jiang Juan fluster, his eyes full of amusement.

“Let’s compromise. Let me crash here tonight. I swear—I’ll take your live stream secret to my grave. Only heaven, earth, you, and I know.”

Looking at Guyen’s shameless grin, Jiang Juan recalled when he’d taken Guyen’s tracksuit. Guyen had been too angry to speak then. Truly, what goes around comes around.

“Fine, fine. The sofa’s yours.” Jiang Juan turned to head back to his bedroom.

“Juan, Juan-ge, wait!” Guyen called from behind. Jiang Juan turned around impatiently.

“What else? Don’t push it. Sleeping in the bed’s impossible.”

“No, what are you thinking? I just need to borrow your phone to text my mom,” Guyen said, half laughing, half exasperated.

Jiang Juan took three deep breaths, then slammed the bedroom door open as he strode in. Moments later, he marched out fiercely, thrusting the unlocked phone at Guyen.

“Text whatever. What else? Say it all now.”

“Uh, maybe... do you have any Coke?” Guyen thought for a moment, then asked seriously.