"Go to sleep if you're tired. Rest well."

"I just... can't sleep."

"Because you're afraid I'll be gone when you wake up?" Lin An stroked her hair with gentle helplessness.

"Mm." Su Yuejin replied softly. She loved how Lin An always sensed her thoughts. He let out a soft sigh. "Sleep well. I'll stop by later tonight."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Then add me on WeChat first." She nestled her face against his chest, gripping his shirt tightly this time. Lin An said, "How about QQ? I rarely use WeChat because of my circle."

"Mm, okay."

"Be a good girl and sleep."

"Kiss me." She tilted her face up—innocent, bright, tender.

Lin An pressed a kiss to her forehead. Unsatisfied, she pulled him into a lingering, tender kiss. Minutes passed until Su Yuejin's cheeks flushed crimson. She buried her face in his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his warmth.

Lin An gently patted her back. Slowly, she drifted into sweet sleep, lips curved in a cute smile. He loved this moment. Quietly, he snapped a photo and saved it. He tucked the blanket around her shoulders. Glancing at the clock—barely past seven—he checked the fridge: empty except for rice.

He cooked congee in the pressure cooker, added rock sugar, sealed it. Should stay warm. He'd noticed the pile of takeout containers. Sick as she was, greasy food would hurt her stomach. He tidied the living room, left a note by her bed, and slipped out.

...

The street air hung damp from last night's rain. Lin An walked home—thirty minutes, not far. Not just frugality; he needed to clear his head.

He rarely let emotions steer his thoughts—it led to mistakes. Yet with Su Yuejin, he'd softened, swept into her sentimentality. She was adorably foolish.

So endearing he almost couldn't bear to disappoint her. But he knew: this was just the halo effect. Once the glow faded, reality would surface.

He wasn't cynical about romance—just aware how harsh reality often snuffs it out.

Still, he allowed himself small tendernesses. Back home, he climbed the stairs, knocked softly on her door.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

The door opened. Xu Qinghuan wore only a loose tank top, straps slipping off snow-white shoulders smooth as fine jade.

"Fried rice with eggs... and tomatoes."

"I'll make it. Rest a bit longer."

Lin An nodded, heading to the kitchen. He knew she lazed in bed on weekends—rare for her, unless free.

Truth was, Xu Qinghuan was busy. Popular at school, connected beyond it too. But never close to any boy. They both knew: if she ever were, Lin An would shatter. Their bond, fragile.

She'd never want another boy. To her, her younger brother shone uniquely—hers alone. Her affection, though sparing, was wholly his.

She danced otaku-style, cosplayed sometimes. Managed her Weibo and Bilibili carefully. In this era, monetizing otaku culture wasn't hard for a sharp, driven girl.

Lin An disliked it. Felt modern otaku culture flirted with softcore aesthetics. So he picked every dance skirt—knee-length minimum. Same for cosplay. Once, fans recreated characters from love. Now? Juvenile, commercialized. True enthusiasts starved out. Most just wanted pretty faces, curves, legs. Common truth—but he disliked it.

He'd joke he had "male chauvinism," scolding himself while still scrolling lewd art and cosplay shots. Urges were urges.

The tomato fried rice smelled perfect—sweet tomatoes, fragrant eggs, fresh scallions. He made two plates, poured two glasses of milk, knocked on her door.

She'd thrown on an oversized white T-shirt. Familiar... *his*.

"Why wear my shirt?"

"Lonely last night... wore it imagining your scent, your arms around me... doing *indescribable* things." Her loli voice dripped playful innuendo.

"Gross, gross, gross." Lin An set the plate down, sat on the spare chair, nibbling rice while glancing at her screen.

Recent cosplay shoot: "Eromanga-sensei," silver wig, white tee. Lin An nearly groaned—original was flat-chested; Xu Qinghuan was *not*. Where's the respect for otaku culture?

"How's it look?"

"Two shouldn't post. I'd call security." He pointed to slightly too-sexy shots. She pouted, nodded, then sent them to him *before* deleting.

"Why send *me*?"

"Not for others. Just for you, Lin An." She winked. Set the hot rice aside, arms crossed. "Now—last night. Details."

Lin An stayed calm. "Called her after leaving. She said she didn't love me. Waited outside the bar. She came out alone. Got in a taxi. Then... saw me, jumped out, ran over, bit me."

He showed his arm. Xu Qinghuan froze. Eyes locked on the tooth marks. A fierce light flared.

"She *wants* to die?! Biting this hard?!" Her chest rose sharply. The fire dimmed—but Lin An felt ice down his spine.

*She's a scheming monster.*

"Her bite eased my guilt. I walked her home, coaxed her to sleep. Left before dawn. Didn't stay. Believe me."

Xu Qinghuan crossed her slender legs. "I believe you."

Lin An smiled faintly. She tucked hair behind her ear. "What now?"

"Once her passion cools. She likes the *idea* of me—the gentle, perceptive guy from that hazy night. Halo effect. When it fades... she'll see we're incompatible."

"Don't be noble! Crush her *before* she cools! Recoup the bite-cost!"

"Whoa—no. That's messed up, Xu Qinghuan." He shook his head. *Her crush with another girl... and she's cool? Cuckold fantasy?*

"What's wrong? I can't give you *me* right now... but you're restless. Want me to introduce fun girls? Easy flings. Zero strings."

"I'm not interested."

"Good boy." She smiled. Lin An switched topics. "That photographer girl—her intentions?"

"Lesbian. Wants me as girlfriend. Tch. Even if I swung that way, she's versatile—pretty, but just wants my body. Clingy... but a cash cow. *You* flirt with her. Solve my problem."

"Harder than chasing Luo Shuishui. Hard pass. And don't let her 'turn' you."

"Wouldn't it be fun? I flirt, bring girls home... share them with you?"

Lin An pictured Xu Qinghuan flirting with Su Yuejin. Shuddered.

"No. Terrifying." He finished his rice, stood. "Dishes?"

"Rock, paper, scissors! I throw rock!" She beamed, innocent. Lin An rolled his eyes.

He threw scissors.