Jiang Zixuan sat in the living room, a nagging doubt tugging at him.

The savory aroma drifting from the kitchen hinted the dish wasn’t half bad. But the thought that Shu Yuxin hadn’t cooked in ages left his nerves frayed.

Worse yet, the last bundle of dried noodles—their emergency backup—was about to meet its glorious fate in the pot.

Honestly, as a wealthy second-gen heir who never lacked cash, Jiang Zixuan hadn’t gone hungry a single night in years.

Logically, he *should* trust his best friend. Yet that unease just wouldn’t quit.

“Done!” Shu Yuxin called out. Her voice, usually angelic, now felt like a death sentence. She carefully set a steaming plate of stir-fried potato slices on the corner dining table. “Zixuan, come try!”

Jiang Zixuan didn’t hesitate. He took a deep breath, steeled himself, and walked over.

To his surprise, the potatoes looked decent and smelled delicious. Even untouched, they already had that mouth-watering appeal.

Shu Yuxin dashed back to the kitchen, returned with two pairs of chopsticks, handed one to him, and sat across. “Go on, taste it. I think I nailed it.”

“It looks good,” Jiang Zixuan said, pulling out a chair. He picked up a slice. “Did you taste it before serving?”

Shu Yuxin shook her head. “Too scared.”

“It’s *your* cooking…”

“Yeah, *mine*. Who knows what it tastes like? You first,” she urged.

Jiang Zixuan hesitated—half a second—then popped the slice in his mouth.

“How is it?” Shu Yuxin asked anxiously.

He frowned, savoring it silently.

After ten seconds of staring, she fidgeted. “Hey, if it’s poisoned, you can still rinse your mouth…”

Jiang Zixuan burst out laughing. “Hah! Just messing with you. Like I said—trust yourself. It’s good. A bit salty, that’s all.”

“Really?” Shu Yuxin studied his face skeptically. Convinced he wasn’t lying, she tried a piece herself.

Yep. Definitely salty.

“Ah… added too much salt,” she murmured, smacking her lips before setting down her chopsticks. “But the flavor’s not bad, right?”

Jiang Zixuan chuckled and nodded.

Shu Yuxin jumped up, gloating. “Wow, I’m freaking awesome! First time cooking and *this* good?”

“Yeah, shame you didn’t go to Xin Dong Fang.”

“Why Xin Dong Fang? Lan Xiang has cooking classes too!”

“Excavator cooking?”

“Cook *you*.” She shot back lightly, then turned toward the kitchen. “Noodles are almost done. I’ll check.”

…

Dinner passed with more suspense than disaster.

The potatoes were salty but edible. The two bowls of noodles that followed were solid—great color, aroma, taste. Just… not enough. Both stayed hungry.

Jiang Zixuan stayed quiet about his surprise. Even Shu Yuxin was briefly stunned—then immediately gloated.

*How am I this awesome?*

The chicken breast never made it to the pot. Her excuse? “Too late.” Truth? She’d chickened out after checking the recipe. Meat dishes were just harder.

Though drinks flowed, stomachs stayed empty. As dinner wrapped up, they moved to the master bedroom. Shu Yuxin nearly squealed—*her* room, all to herself! A plush double bed sat center-stage, comfort levels light-years beyond school’s wooden plank. She dove straight in, rolling happily.

“Hey… shouldn’t we handle the important stuff first?” Jiang Zixuan set the suitcase down, unzipped it, and sighed at her antics.

“This bed is *insanely* comfy,” Shu Yuxin said, sliding off beside him. “Why sleep in that tiny room with this space?”

“I saved it for you,” Jiang Zixuan smiled.

Slipping on slippers, she crouched by the suitcase, rummaging. “Yeah, right—wait, damn it!”

She shook out a thin blanket, face falling. “I brought the blanket… forgot the sheets.”

Jiang Zixuan’s lips twitched.

The blanket *could* work as a sheet for a night—but then she’d have nothing to cover with. Nearly October, yet summer heat clung. No fan. AC off = sweltering. AC on = chilly. Awkward.

They crouched like fools beside the suitcase.

“Zixuan… extra sheets?”

“No… spare set’s at school.”

“So I’m doomed.”

“How about we grab one from the supermarket downstairs? I’ll lend you cash.”

Shu Yuxin paused, then snapped her fingers. “Got it—we sleep together tonight!”

Jiang Zixuan froze.

“Yep! Share the bed. I’ll fetch sheets tomorrow.” She’d already decided, digging for pajamas.

“Wait—*sleep together*? Are you serious?” Jiang Zixuan finally blurted.

Shu Yuxin blinked. “What? We’ve shared beds before.”

“But… you’re a *girl* now! Things are different!”

“How?” She met his eyes, dead serious. “Just ‘cause I’m a girl? Would you even *do* me?”

Jiang Zixuan shook his head fast. “Of course not!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s not… that’s not the point,” he stammered. “Situations changed. Men and women keep distance, right? We’re not dating. Doesn’t it feel… off?”

“Since when is sharing a bed only for couples? Who decided that?” She pointed at herself. “And… do you even see me as a *girl*? Why stress over what *I* don’t care about?”

Jiang Zixuan looked troubled.

He wasn’t a saint. If a random pretty girl invited him to share a bed? He’d say yes, zero guilt. But this was Shu Yuxin—his best friend. His *bro*.

Even if no one knew… it felt strange. Logic screamed *no*. Heart found no reason to refuse.

He was torn.

He sighed. “You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. Just tonight.”

Shu Yuxin pushed back. “Hah? Why *you* on the couch? It’s *your* bed! Plenty of room. What’s the harm? Won’t kill you.”

If he’d suggested this earlier, she might’ve agreed. But now? His resistance stung. To her, bunking with a best friend meant nothing. His hesitation felt like the friendship had changed.

Truth was, Shu Yuxin was being childish. She sensed the shift between them—maybe irreversible. But she needed to prove one thing to Jiang Zixuan:

Their bond hadn’t changed.

And to her, the simplest proof was sharing a bed.