Lin An felt unbearably hot.

Being cradled in warm, soft arms felt amazing—but his head buzzed like a hundred cicadas on a summer street, relentless and maddening. He didn’t know what was wrong, yet faintly sensed her planting another hickey on his neck.

“Are you trying to kill me, Su Yuejin?” Lin An barely gathered the strength to turn and meet her eyes.

“You’re scolding me,” Su Yuejin murmured, voice tinged with a hint of grievance.

“That mark just faded. Today again?”

“If anyone asks, just say I did it. Hehe. Classmates, friends—tell them all.”

“Do you think I’m the type who’d feel proud calling you my girlfriend? Damn it… how am I supposed to…” Lin An’s headache spiked. He had to go home. What then? What would he do seeing this mark again?

What *could* he do? Panic tightened his chest.

“Shhh, shhh. Sleep now. I’ve got you.” Su Yuejin slid a slender leg from beneath her skirt, locking him gently but firmly in place.

Lin An tried to push her away—but his fingertips brushed soft warmth. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Restless hands even while sleeping…” Su Yuejin whispered, breath warm against his ear. “Gently now.”

But Lin An stilled. Too tired to fight, he simply pulled her closer, mumbling into her shoulder:

“I hate you, Su Yuejin.”

A bright, tender smile bloomed on Su Yuejin’s lips. “You won’t just hate me. You’ll love me deeply too, Lin An.”

“Never. Absolutely never.”

“We’ll see.” She kissed his cheek and closed her eyes.

...

Lin An truly fell asleep.

Su Yuejin switched on the bedside lamp, watching his peaceful face. An odd calm settled in her chest. In sleep, his brows were faintly furrowed—troubled by some silent dream.

Then—a vibration against her thigh. She glanced down, carefully pulled his phone from his pocket. Unknown number. A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes as she answered.

“Hello?” Sweet, girlish.

“An An, you—” The voice cut off sharply.

“Who is this?” The caller’s tone, once soft, now edged with suspicion.

“Um… you… if you’re looking for Lin An, he… ah… fever… asleep… ah!”

“Then who *are* you?” Cooler now. Sharper.

Hearing the tension, Su Yuejin’s eyes gleamed with playful delight. “Me? I’m Su… Su Yuejin. He’s at my place. I’m taking very… *very* good care of him.”

“I see…” Chacha’s voice held a teasing lilt Su Yuejin missed. “Let An An rest then. No ‘work’ needed today.”

“Work? What work?”

“Hmm? Why… play with me, of course.”

*Play.* The word hung, deliberately sweet, dripping with implication. Before Su Yuejin could press further—the line went dead.

Her brows knotted.

Not his girlfriend? Then who? *Play*? *Work*? What kind of play… *with her*???

Wild thoughts spiraled. For no reason, she felt Lin An must be a seasoned charmer—drawing girls in, making them obsessed, driving them wild. Just a strange hunch.

Yet staring at his profile, her heartbeat quickened. Something warm, stubborn, began to sprout.

She really was starting to like him.

...

Lin An woke to his 11 PM alarm—habit for nightly writing. Drafts stacked high, but he still wrote; it paid the bills.

Bleary-eyed, he felt much better. Beside him, Su Yuejin held him lightly. Eyelashes fanned her cheeks, trembling softly with each breath.

He shifted carefully to slip away—but her eyes opened, gaze liquid and calm.

Lin An studied her face, expression tangled. Finally, softly: “Thank you, Su Yuejin.”

“Better?”

“Much. Thank you.”

“No blame? No hate?”

“Still… thank you,” he murmured.

“I don’t want thanks. I want you to say you love me.”

“Then dream on. Maybe a dream-version of me will say it.” He tossed the blanket aside, slipped on his shoes. Su Yuejin tugged his sleeve. “You’re better now… after all that care… shouldn’t there be a reward?”

A faint blush dusted her cheeks. Sitting up, her strap slipped lower—but she made no move to fix it.

This time, Lin An turned, gently peeled her fingers away.

“This time! If I run fast enough—I’ll escape before you strip!”

He bolted. Su Yuejin’s eyes widened.

…He *was* fast. All she could shout after him was “Jerk!”—useless.

Retreat! Fall back! Sell out! Run!

...

Outside, Lin An checked his phone. Deleted and blocked the WeChat contact Su Yuejin had labeled “Girlfriend.”

No creepy messages sent. But—a missed call from Chacha.

Duration: 56 seconds.

He called back. A cold chuckle answered.

“Tsk, An An. Done having fun, entered that calm ‘after’ state, and *now* remember your sweet-talked silly rich loli?”

“I was asleep.”

“Asleep? Then why was Su Yuejin *panting*? Sounded… lovely. Even I felt a flutter.”

“She answered? What’d she say?”

“Said you had a fever. But her voice… breathy. Like she was *busy*. Tsk tsk.”

Lin An sighed. “She thought you were my girlfriend. Messing with you. I really was out cold.”

“How’d you end up there?”

“Feverish. She led me home like a lost puppy. Slept. That’s all.”

“Hmm… So Su Yuejin’s into you?”

“No idea. She’s… airheaded. Weird. A little crazy.”

“Maybe she was *very* busy beside you while you slept. No wonder her voice was so sweet. Tsk. I’m getting curious, An An.”

“…Probably just messing around. Annoying.”

“Few boys make Miss Su Yuejin pull stunts like this. I’m looking forward to meeting you next week.”

“Don’t expect much. I’m ordinary.”

“Hehe. We’ll see. Sleep well, fever-boy. Mua~”

“Mm. Goodnight.”

Lin An hung up. He ached to go home—but dread coiled tight. How to explain the hickey? Even with truth… she’d be angry.

*This time*, she really would be.

No taxi. He walked thirty minutes through biting wind. At the door, panting, sweat chilling his skin, he pushed inside.

Lights on.

Xu Qinghuan sat on the sofa in a simple nightgown, glancing back with quiet indifference.

“Back?”

“Mm.”

Lin An changed shoes, moving quickly toward the bathroom—but she stopped him.

“Running? Turn around.”

He turned.

Her eyes swept his face. Landed on the hickey. Her smile froze. Then hardened.

She knew it wasn’t his girlfriend—too proper for that. So who in his circle would dare?

“Explain.”

Her voice was flat.

“Caught in the rain. Fever. Met Su Yuejin on the classroom steps. Chatted. She took me home, gave medicine. Slept in her bed. Woke up with this.”

Lin An kept his eyes down, voice small.

Xu Qinghuan rose slowly. “Why would *she* take you home?”

“How would I know?”

“Do you like her?” Her tone sharpened. She stepped close, severity pressing down on him.

“I don’t.”

“You *don’t*? You *dare* say that?! No feelings—and she brings you home after a chat? You *don’t*?!”

Her bare foot kicked his shin.

Lin An stayed silent, head bowed.

She pointed at his face. “Yesterday a hickey. Today another. Next—skip coming home entirely? Should I buy you ** just in case? *Huh*?”

“Why silent? Cat got your tongue?! *Speak!*”

Her voice cracked with emotion. Lin An lifted his head slowly. Pale. Exhausted.

“Qinghuan… I really… did nothing. I don’t like her. Never thought of her. I just… wanted to go home.”

She pressed on.

“No feelings? Such a pretty girl, tsk. If you don’t like her—how’d she take you home? No legs? Fever *that* bad?!”

Lin An’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“I’m so tired… Qinghuan. Please. Stop. Don’t scold me anymore.”

Xu Qinghuan finally saw it—the hollow weariness in his eyes. Her hand fell. Her voice softened.

But Lin An’s face held only quiet emptiness.

All he wanted was to sleep.