Lin An and Su Yuejin each had a bowl of noodles at the supermarket downstairs outside their residential complex. Both had small appetites, and Su Yuejin covered the bill.

Lin An didn’t mind such details—he wouldn’t bother transferring his share. It was unnecessary; she wouldn’t care either. Her home was only a ten-minute walk from school.

So they walked side by side. Su Yuejin wore beige canvas shoes, the hem of her off-white skirt swaying gently. Her jet-black hair flowed loose down her back, giving a soft, docile impression.

Yet when silent, her expression held a detached coolness—lending her a mature, aloof vibe.

They parted only at the classroom door. Earlier on the playground, Lin An had glanced toward the corridor by the entrance. Luo Shuishui was leaning there, seemingly enjoying the morning breeze.

She’d seen them.

Lin An didn’t care. After yesterday’s incident, given Luo Shuishui’s personality, communication would fade. A sharp girl like her understood cutting losses.

As Lin An turned toward the classroom, Luo Shuishui—without turning her head—let her rosy lips part slightly. “Wait.”

Lin An froze mid-step. “You talking to me?”

“Who else?” She turned.

She wore a gray koala hoodie, adorably cute. Beneath it, a light blue skirt hem fell halfway down her thighs. Her skin was fair. Lin An met her gaze, catching a faint smile at her lips.

“How’d you end up coming to school with her?”

“Same route, I guess.” Lin An scratched his head.

“You’re not.”

Luo Shuishui countered with a cold laugh. Lin An stiffened. In one motion, she stepped forward with quiet resolve and grabbed his collar.

Her small head tilted toward his chest.

Lin An stared blankly. Her delicate nostrils twitched slightly. As she bent forward a little, a hint more skin showed—but nothing scandalous.

“There’s a scent.”

“…” Lin An had no defense.

She stepped back, arms crossed, leaning against the railing, knees slightly bent. Her smile hovered between gentle and sharp.

“Hmm? You’re not gonna say you just hugged all night? Seriously? *Seriously?*”

Lin An almost wanted to say, *Yeah, actually.*

Luo Shuishui gazed at his cheek—genuinely gentle this time. She brushed a strand of hair aside and whispered, “Shouldn’t you answer? Did you two really hook up all night?”

“Well… I guess I can’t deny it,” Lin An replied, playing along.

A glimmer flickered in her eyes. Lin An didn’t guess her thoughts—and didn’t want to. When you feel nothing for someone, why bother? Just do what feels right.

Being a clueless guy beat being a “nice guy” or player any day. Call me clueless for not comforting you? Fine. I’ll call you right back. Why comfort someone I’m not chasing?

He wasn’t after her favor. What’s wrong with being clueless? When do clueless guys get to stand tall?

“But what will you say, Lin An? I choose to believe you.”

“We just slept hugging all night,” he murmured.

“So… do you truly love her?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why not hook up for fun?”

Lin An sighed, shifting topics with a helpless smile. “Class Rep, your vibe’s changed.”

“Oh? Not calling me Shuishui anymore? Switching titles? Creating distance?”

“Uh…”

“Do you think I’d cut ties after getting upset yesterday, Lin An?” Her eyes held goddess-like clarity, seeing straight through him. He felt exposed.

“Well…”

“If you don’t want to stay friends, just say it. I’ll let go. If you do… tell me.” Her gaze softened, resting on his face.

“I’m not like Su Yuejin. I don’t need toys or love to fill emptiness. But love confuses me. I’m searching for answers.”

“Confused? How?”

“Is it normal… acceptable… to love many people?” she asked out of nowhere.

“Psychologically, yes—evolutionary instinct. But society calls it wrong. Why ask?”

“Just things I can’t untangle. So… what *should* feel normal?”

“I don’t know. Happiness might come with love or without it. As long as no one hurts… isn’t that the best ending, Luo Shuishui?”

He spoke casually. She fell silent for ten seconds.

“I see. That makes sense. Thank you, Lin An.”

“Uh… you’re welcome.”

“So… are we still friends?”

“What kind?”

“The kind where I might still step into your love life, watch reactions, and fill gaps in my understanding of love.” She answered without flinching.

“That sounds creepy.” Lin An didn’t soften it.

“But friendship with me has perks.”

“Example?”

“Say… if you wanted, I could sink your ex-ex-girlfriend’s whole family into financial ruin. Bankrupt. In a month.” She smiled sweetly while saying something chilling.

“Impossible! Wait—how do you know her?”

“I got curious. Looked into your past. Since I told you, I knew you wouldn’t mind. So… want it?”

Lin An shook his head firmly. “No. She’s done nothing wrong. Her family neither.”

“Your call. I can do many things. Accept the terms? Be my good friend?” She winked—playful, cute.

Lin An stepped forward without hesitation.

Boldly, he reached out.

Gently cupped her porcelain-like chin, lifting her gaze to his.

“Any perks?”

Luo Shuishui froze. His palm cradled her jaw. Heat flushed her cheeks; her breath hitched. *Stay calm. I don’t like this.*

But his eyes held pure sincerity.

“If you expect desire from me… sorry. None.” She smoothed her expression, shooting him a reproachful look. “Please… how could you? You’re not a bad kid, right?”

“Then it’s a pity. Never mind.”

Lin An withdrew his hand and walked back to class—no glance back.

Luo Shuishui watched him go. This time, no frustration. A faint smile curved her lips.

He looked more like he was fleeing.

…

Lin An couldn’t figure Luo Shuishui out.

What family background lets someone casually promise to ruin an ex’s family in a month?

He shook it off. Yet… he sensed danger. He was perceptive. Luo Shuishui didn’t love him.

He hated those who toyed with feelings.

(Though he didn’t hate himself—people are hypocritical.)

He didn’t feel he was toying either. He hadn’t truly deceived Su Yuejin. Most of what he’d said to her was true.

Classes dragged on, dull as ever. Lin An ignored them, listening to music through headphones he’d saved long for. He lived frugally—but spent on what mattered. Like these: good sound meant lasting joy.

Mid-Autumn Festival was in two days, holidays merging with National Day. Lin An checked his phone. Xu Qinghuan hadn’t messaged. He’d explain tonight.

After school, he didn’t wait for Su Yuejin—they weren’t on the same route. But Luo Shuishui was. Her home was a bit farther, not much.

She quickened her pace across the playground, fell into step beside him.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing~ Saw Su Yuejin behind us. Came over.”

“Huh?”

“After she gave you a hickey while *we* were dating? Cheaters get cheated. She must be fuming seeing me beside you. Think she’ll chase us?”

“She won’t.” Lin An shook his head.

“Why?”

“She’s not stupid. She knows I don’t love her. She’ll think I’m faking it—or you’re provoking her. But she also knows I don’t love *you*. So if she doesn’t care… she won’t hurt.”

“That sure?”

“Yes.” He walked on, certain. Unbothered.

Her skirt fluttered. A faint, delicate scent reached him. He almost spoke—then didn’t.

“Did I scare you?” she murmured.

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, Lin An.”

He paused. Nodded. “Good.”

“So… still friends?”

“Mm.”

Lin An held out a hand. “Bag looks heavy. Give it here.”

Obediently, she handed him the little bear backpack. He slung it across his chest. Together, they walked out of school.