Nangong Jing had zero intention of handing over her “little brother.” She just found Nangong Ruihui’s bitter-as-gall expression amusing—and wondered what might unfold between her and Mu Yao behind closed doors. Meanwhile, Nangong Ling had already lain in wait inside Jing’s room, ready to press their ears to the door crack the moment Ruihui stepped in. Who knew? They might catch something blush-inducing… or juicy gossip never heard before.

“Well then, Jiejie Jing, I’m off to bed. You and Jiejie Ling should turn in early too—don’t stay up gaming again,” Nangong Ruihui said with gentle concern.

“Got it~”

…

After closing the door, Nangong Ruihui grew cautious. She locked it from the inside. Honestly? She half-expected someone to barge in unannounced—especially with Jing’s barely suppressed smirk lingering in her mind.

That tiny, careless gesture sent Mu Yao’s heart into a frantic *thump-thump*. *Could it be?* she panicked inwardly. *Has the usually icy Nangong Ruihui finally cracked under my cuteness… and decided to make a move? Oh no!* If that happened, his true identity—a boy in disguise—would be exposed for sure.

“Ruihui… are you really making me sleep on the bed while you take the floor?” Mu Yao peeked shyly from under the covers, only her small face visible. Truthfully, she felt relieved Ruihui suggested this. Otherwise, changing clothes in front of her… or sharing a bed might cause… *that* issue. Something fabric couldn’t hide.

“Mm. I won’t take advantage. I never meant to have you stay here anyway…” Nangong Ruihui replied helplessly.

Soon, the floor bedding was ready. Ruihui slipped out of her outerwear, tucked herself under the thin blanket, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

“Xiao Jing, hear anything?” Nangong Ling whispered.

“Not much. Just faint bits… ‘get in bed,’ ‘want to’…” Jing crouched low, voice uncertain.

“Huh?? Listen closer!”

Jing devoured brother-complex manga; Ling lived for BL anime. Both burned with curiosity: what *would* happen between a cross-dressing boy and a sweet girl sharing a room?

“Ruihui, why no thicker blanket? It’s not summer anymore—you’ll catch cold,” Mu Yao murmured, turning to face her.

“No extra blankets. I live alone. Silly,” Ruihui said, eyes closed.

“You’re sleeping already…?”

“Mm. Good night.”

“Ruihui… it’s only seven. Chat with me? I’m bored… if you’re not too tired…”

The more time Mu Yao spent with her, the clearer it became: Ruihui could tease, even flirt—but she was genuinely upright. Nothing like a careless boy. She held no improper thoughts toward Mu Yao. So upright, Mu Yao almost felt she was deliberately keeping distance.

Ruihui opened her eyes. “What do you want to talk about?”

Flustered, Mu Yao grasped for words. “Ruihui… what do you think of me?”

“…You? A silly little thing. Too trusting. Too pure.”

“R-Really?”

Mu Yao didn’t see herself as naive. Everyone shows different faces. She simply felt safe with Ruihui—*knew* she wouldn’t harm or use her.

“How not? Countless examples. Take Xia Xi—Xia Clan’s young mistress. Do you think she’s more like me… or you?”

“You…”

“Clan heirs aren’t free. With your openness? You’d be crushed in succession schemes. Family infighting cuts deeper than outside wars. You wouldn’t understand.”

She paused. “Also… I hope you grow stronger sooner. Even if resilience leaves scars… it’s better than hitting rock bottom later.”

Mu Yao’s nose stung. Those words echoed—warm, caring. In that moment, affection bloomed, soft as kinship.

Seeing tears glisten in Mu Yao’s eyes, Ruihui flustered. “Don’t overthink it. I believe *future me* can be someone you rely on. I’m not asking you to stand alone.”

Ruihui truly cherished this friendship. Let “fiancée” linger until its time ended. By then… maybe they’d be inseparable best friends.

“Ling Jiejie! I heard it clear—Ruihui wants Mu Yao to follow her *for life*!” Jing yanked Ling away from the door, tiptoeing off with worry etched deep.

“I heard it too… ‘someone to rely on.’ Could they… like each other?” Ling sighed. “Ugh… our fault. We treated Ruihui as a little brother too long. She can’t unlearn it. And Mu Yao… sees her cross-dressed self as a boy.”

“What if we dress her in girls’ clothes tomorrow? Rebuild her confidence?” Jing suggested.

“No. Can’t rush it. Slow and steady,” Ling waved gently, rejecting the idea.

“Guess so…”

Back in their rooms, the sisters changed into pajamas, ready for bed.

…

A thousand tender feelings swirled in Mu Yao’s heart—unspoken, unshared. Yet knowing Ruihui cared was enough. *But I’m a boy. How can I truly lean on her?* The road ahead lay only beneath her own feet.

“Ruihui… look at me~” Mu Yao cooed sweetly.

Ruihui felt a flicker of annoyance—*again?*—just as she’d settled to rest. But the moment she saw Mu Yao… irritation melted.

Mu Yao had lifted the blanket toward her. Two slender legs rubbed softly together—a kitten yearning for warmth.

(Unbeknownst to Ruihui: Mu Yao only meant to hide *that* unavoidable sign. Fabric couldn’t conceal it.)

…

Silence stretched a full minute. Ruihui understood. *She’s inviting me up. Why else hold the blanket open? She’ll freeze.*

Facing such adorable Mu Yao… who could resist? Not even Nangong Ruihui.

*'Screw it! You invited me! Not my fault!'*

She stood, steeling herself. *Nothing will happen. I just… want to hold her while sleeping.*

From Mu Yao’s view—Nangong Ruihui trudged forward, step by heavy step… toward her.