“You seem… a little sad?” Su Yuejin asked tentatively.

Lin An looked up and took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Not really sad—just a tiny bit, I guess. Luo Shuishui *is* a gentle girl. But I don’t think I did anything wrong.”

“What if you *had* to make Luo Shuishui fall for you again? Could you do it?” Su Yuejin whispered near his ear, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“No.” Lin An shook his head.

“Meh. I don’t believe you.”

“You think I’m some universally adored novel protagonist? Liking someone’s complicated—it’s a constructed illusion. Real affection comes from mutual comfort. Once the illusion fades, I struggle with other girls. I’m selfish. I don’t like making allowances. And honestly? I don’t care that much about ‘love.’”

“But love *is* important.”

“Then why do so many young people post daily heartbreak stories—complaining, fishing for sympathy, envying others, just talking the talk? Some have a condition: ‘If no one loves me, I’ll die.’ We call those people… losers.” Lin An smirked. Just then, the PE dismissal bell rang. Time to head back. Only three classes left; coursework was light. Lin An loved this school—plenty of free time for fun things. Clubs existed, but he’d never joined. Better to game at home.

He said goodbye to Su Yuejin and treated her to a Cornetto—lemon sea salt flavor. He got one too. They walked back to class, ice creams in hand. As Lin An entered the classroom, his gaze instinctively flicked toward Luo Shuishui.

She sat unusually still, lost in thought. He passed by unnoticed, returned to his seat, and resumed watching the Japanese drama. *Should finish today. Ending’s decent.* School ended. Wednesday was Mid-Autumn Festival; Friday, National Day. Seven days off.

But he had no plans. Nothing much to do. He quickened his pace home, climbed the stairs, opened his window. Evening breeze fluttered the curtains. He adjusted it slightly, booted his PC, joined voice chat, logged into the rented account. Xiao Chacha was already online—she never started without him. Losing promotion series meant extra hassle.

“What’re you playing?”

“I’ll take Lulu. You ADC? Play safe for promo.”

“Sure.”

Lin An banned Caitlyn, had Xiao Chacha ban Senna, then picked Vayne—a high-risk, high-reward champ. Bold plays meant big damage.

Two wins straight. Xiao Chacha hit Diamond II. Lin An exhaled. Her Lulu was… not skilled. Only shielded. No harass, no last-hits, no warding, no roaming. All on him. Still, they won.

“I’m Diamond II!! I’m Diamond II!!”

“Mm. Saw it.”

“I’ll log off now. Busy next few days. More time for you… and Su Yuejin~” Xiao Chacha said. Lin An paused.

“Mm… fine.”

A flicker of disappointment. Fewer gigs meant less income. Alone? He wouldn’t touch the game.

Xu Qinghuan had come home early. Changed into a gray camisole and hot pants. She stepped into his room, hands resting on his shoulders.

“What’re you up to?”

“Huh? Probably no gigs. Boss is busy. Not sure what to do.”

“Play a couple matches with me?”

“Sure. I’ll support.” Lin An nodded.

He logged into his own account—dropped to Master from inactivity. Xu Qinghuan ranked higher. She’d practiced relentlessly: last-hitting, tutorials, natural talent. Streaming was part of her future plans. Lin An invited her duo. He picked Thresh; she took ADC. Aggressive. Lane phase: fight or die. No farming.

Two more wins. Sky dimmed slightly. *Wait—we haven’t eaten.*

“Want stir-fried pork with green peppers and tomato scrambled eggs?” Xu Qinghuan said.

Lin An headed to the kitchen. Grabbed five peppers. Pulled yesterday’s frozen lean pork—perfectly firm for slicing. Rinsed the strips, mixed with salt, MSG, water, starch, one egg white. Stirred clockwise two minutes for tenderness. Sliced peppers. Crushed garlic.

Heated the wok. Sizzled garlic. Stir-fried pork till done. Added peppers, a dash of light soy, pinch of sugar. A savory aroma filled the room.

Tomato eggs were simpler: beat eggs, dice tomatoes. Hot oil. Pour eggs, break when set, remove. Stir-fry tomatoes with water, add eggs back, season.

Lin An excelled at home cooking. He cooked daily. Knew every dish Xu Qinghuan loved. Changed menus monthly. If she wanted it, he made it—or learned.

With other girls? Rarely this patient.

Dinner ready. Rice steamed. Around seven. Xu Qinghuan padded out in bunny slippers. They sat at the table.

Lin An glanced twice at her camisole. Her ample chest made the thin fabric look strikingly alluring. His gaze traveled up—from chest to the delicate curve of her collarbone—then settled on her face.

A quiet perk of living together.

After eating, Xu Qinghuan washed the dishes—seemingly free lately. They settled on the sofa. A romance drama played. Lin An held chips, mostly feeding her.

“You eat too,” Xu Qinghuan murmured, a chip dangling from her lips. Lin An leaned in, took it gently with his teeth.

Her eyes crinkled into a smile.

He sipped water from the table glass, handed it to her.

She froze. “Not drinking that.”

“Then I’ll head out?” Lin An grinned.

“Threatening me?!” She raised a tiny fist—zero menace.

“Of course not,” he said, tone dripping with playful defiance.

She sipped twice anyway. Slipped her feet from slippers, stood on the sofa, straddled his lap. Leaned close. Chest pressed to his. Lips near his ear.

“You’re awful,” she whispered—but leaned in anyway, offering her pink lips.

Lin An wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Fingertips traced slow, restless paths along her back.

...

Until Xu Qinghuan pulled away, breathless. She’d vowed to kiss *him* into exhaustion—but lost. Now half-leaning against him, held tight. His touch remained gentle. Never pinching. Never hurting.

“What were you and Su Yuejin talking about under the tree?”

(She’d seen them—Su Yuejin, Luo Shuishui. Same class. Just didn’t know what was said.)

“Nothing. Random stuff. Su Yuejin was… normal.”

“And next? Let things flow?” Her slender legs crossed lazily.

“I guess.” Lin An nodded. He didn’t know Su Yuejin’s thoughts. But intense emotions needed time to cool.

...

In Su Yuejin’s room.

Fresh from shower. Black lace-trimmed camisole dress. Shoulders and collarbone bare, skin milky smooth. Slender waist. Thighs hinted beneath the hem—a hazy allure.

She stood before the mirror, snapped a photo sitting back on her heels. No edits. No filters. A soft hum. Sent it to Lin An.

Reply came instantly.

“You’re so bold.”

“Do you like it?”

Her cheeks burned. A thrilling, reckless thrill surged. She slipped one strap down her arm—half-hidden, half-revealed—snapped again. Tongue tracing her lip. Eyes heavy-lidded. Sent.

“Want to come over… see me in black stockings?”

“Can you just send a pic? I’ll appreciate it from afar. Won’t come.”

“Not allowed~”

“…”

...

“Hehe.”

Xu Qinghuan peered at Lin An’s phone, smiling sweetly.

Lin An sighed. She leaned close. “Oh? Pretty? Hmm? Like black stockings? Sorry I’m short—no long legs for you.”

“I will always adore everything about Miss Xu Qinghuan.”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing, but muttered toward the screen anyway:

“That little flirt.”