"Ah… ahaha, my mistake! I… um, there’s actually a reason for it."

I did my best to keep my face calm—but that calmness was only skin-deep. I didn’t even know what nonsense I was rambling.

Qin Xue wasn’t the least bit hurried. She simply watched me quietly, waiting for my explanation.

Her beautiful, silky long black hair slipped gently from her shoulder, shattering the last trace of hope I clung to.

Hope? What hope? How was I even supposed to explain this? Even if I laughed it off as a name mix-up, she was already suspicious. One simple question would see right through me.

I took a few shallow breaths. Qin Xue carried a pleasant scent too—subtler than Chen Meier’s.

"Forget it. I can’t make up a story," I murmured, slumping my head dejectedly. "I really did lose my memory."

What else could I do? Amnesia was still better than letting anyone know Su Xiaoxi’s soul had been replaced.

Qin Xue looked at me and blinked slowly. With every flutter of her eyelashes, my heart hammered.

Nervous.

"You don’t want others to know?" she asked suddenly.

"Um… well…" Caught off guard, I fidgeted with my fingers. "Because if they find out about the amnesia, they…"

Qin Xue raised a hand to cut me off. Without a word, she sat back on her bed and averted her gaze. "It’s fine. You don’t need to explain."

Huh?

"You lost your memory and don’t want others to know. I understand. That’s all."

She dropped the words flatly and returned to her work. I stood frozen before her, feeling utterly invisible.

…Huh?

Things had shifted too suddenly. I silently sat on my bed, replaying our exchange.

First, I called her by the wrong name. Then she asked if I’d lost my memory—I admitted it. She noted I didn’t want it exposed. I agreed, and just as I tried to explain, she said no explanation was needed.

Wait—if no explanation was needed, why point out my secret at all?!

Wasn’t this like teasing someone and leaving them hanging…? *Ahem*. Honestly, Qin Xue’s behavior was impossible to read.

She seemed like a celestial being detached from worldly affairs—or the classic anime "three-no" archetype: silent, expressionless, indifferent. So why call me out?

She didn’t probe further. Didn’t try to leverage it.

Ugh, my head hurts.

Since I couldn’t figure it out, I dropped it. I sat back at my desk, determined to finish my job email before lunch.

*Well-versed in ACG culture. Extensive work experience. Can handle anything.*

After typing that, I needed a selfie. No photos in my laptop album—I froze.

I glanced discreetly at Qin Xue. Still focused on her thesis, utterly indifferent to the dorm around her.

Maybe borrow hers? Solve my problem *and* test her attitude.

I made up my mind, walked over quietly. "Qin Xue… could I borrow your phone?"

The black-haired girl lifted her head, eyes silently questioning.

Or just waiting for my explanation—like before.

"I’m drafting a job email that requires a selfie. I lost my phone in the accident, so…"

Qin Xue said nothing. Turned, pulled a data cable from under her bedside table.

…Huh?

"There’s already one. No need to take a new selfie."

She walked past me toward my laptop. A strand of her black hair brushed my cheek, scrambling my thoughts.

A ready-made photo? *My* photo?!

She plugged in the phone, clicked open a folder. I stole a glance—and froze.

The first few shots: a cute girl with vibrant pink long hair, a pure, gentle face, sitting quietly like a middle schooler. Who else but Su Xiaoxi?

…Me. Now.

Folder creation date: November 3, 20XX—early winter of the year she entered Zhenzhong University.

"When we became roommates, we shared photos. Individual shots, group pics," Qin Xue explained tonelessly.

"Oh… right."

Doubts swirled, but I hid them. At least the selfie problem was solved.

Actually… Qin Xue’s attitude wasn’t bad. Her coldness was just her nature.

For a "three-no" beauty to say this much? Pretty decent.

She copied the photo, unplugged the cable, returned to her bed—silent. I wanted to chat, but her distant expression stopped me.

"Thank you," I finally whispered.

"You’re welcome." Her voice remained cool.

She resumed her thesis. I sat back at my laptop. Photo issue resolved. Good enough.

Only a few photos copied—but each outfit screamed a different season.

First: short down jacket and scarf (winter). Second: long-sleeved shirt under a short-sleeved tee (spring or autumn?). Third: short-sleeved, modest-cut dress (summer, no question).

Ugh, neckline aside—no cleavage visible. Honestly, *I’ve* filled out just a tiny bit more than in the photos. Same dress now might look… nicer.

Mmm, no overthinking. I copied the summer dress shot into the email. It’s summer—summer photo it is.

Sent. Now just wait. I closed my laptop. A rustling sound came from behind.

Qin Xue had finished her thesis too, packing up to leave.

"Where are you going?" I blurted.

She paused. After a beat: "Lunch."

"Wait for me!" I jumped up, patting the loose cuffs of my pajama pants. "I’m coming with you."