“It’s not love,” Su Yuejin pouted slightly.
“But what if my interest blossoms into love?”
“Then you’ll be too late, Luo Shuishui.” Su Yuejin’s smile held a quiet certainty that left Luo Shuishui puzzled.
Truly, never underestimate anyone. Though Luo Shuishui didn’t believe her words, she felt no rush to step into this intriguing, twisted dynamic. She was confident: if she chose to act, she could glide in effortlessly and claim absolute control.
In truth… the future would not unfold as she wished.
Just as Su Yuejin said… you will be too late, Luo Shuishui.
Time would reveal the answer—but it was still too early. The story had only just begun, like the first veil of rain before clear skies.
...
After school, Lin An prepared to head home alone.
It was Wednesday. In two days, the National Day and Mid-Autumn Festival holidays would begin—a full seven days. Lin An loved breaks: freer, far more enjoyable than school.
The moment he stepped out of class, Su Yuejin from the neighboring class approached, umbrella in hand. She walked beside him and gently took his hand.
“Let me walk you home.”
She glanced at the falling raindrops and spoke softly.
“We don’t live in the same direction…”
“But I drove.”
Her modest white coupe waited just outside school. This time, Lin An didn’t refuse. He settled into the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt.
Su Yuejin cracked the window slightly. Eason Chan’s “Bicycle” played softly in the car.
“Any plans for the holiday?” she asked suddenly.
“Probably just gaming at home… I guess.” Lin An had no concrete plans. Su Yuejin turned. “You watch anime, right?”
“Huh? Yeah.”
“How about a comic convention?”
“Well… I’ll think about it.”
Su Yuejin pouted. “Pleeease? Don’t you want to see cute girls there?”
“If I want cute girls, I’ve got you right here.”
“Mmm, then I’ll cosplay! Pick a character. If you skip the con, I’ll wear it just for you at home.”
Lin An pictured her in elegant, mature roles—and felt a faint, unexpected allure. Rubbing his head helplessly: “Mmm… if I’m free, I’ll go with you.”
“Yay! If you want me in cosplay while we’re out, tell me ahead—say, October 3rd.” Her smile shimmered like soft starlight.
Lin An froze for a heartbeat, then looked away. *Don’t get lost in this moment.*
Su Yuejin drove him all the way to his building.
“Still not inviting me up?”
“Maybe… next time.” Lin An replied awkwardly. He couldn’t soften—not with Xu Qinghuan waiting upstairs.
Xu Qinghuan claimed indifference, but if she saw him flirting with Su Yuejin? Lin An had zero doubt she’d want to kill him.
She was the type who could ignore what she didn’t see—but if she witnessed it, jealousy would bloom. He found that endearing.
Su Yuejin unfastened his seatbelt… and kissed his lips.
...
Lin An stopped by the supermarket. In the produce aisle, he spotted Xu Qinghuan’s back—carefully inspecting eggplants, expression focused.
He tapped her shoulder gently.
She didn’t startle. Turning, she offered a warm smile.
“Dinner: minced pork eggplant… oh! Cola chicken wings. And cucumber-century egg soup.”
“Okay.” He nodded. She poked his chest. “You grab the wings.”
Lin An bought eight wings (their appetites were small) and a cola bottle. Xu Qinghuan had finished selecting ingredients and handed him the umbrella.
Naturally, Lin An held it. Xu Qinghuan carried the groceries. Evening breeze cool, raindrops fresh—they walked home.
For a moment, Lin An felt a quiet warmth—like a newlywed couple returning from shopping. *Silly fantasy.*
His thoughts drifted again. *How is Luo Shuishui’s nose so sharp? I can’t smell anything on myself. Neither could Su Yuejin. Is she part dog?*
He *had* to confirm no lingering scent. If Xu Qinghuan noticed… disaster.
Xu Qinghuan seemed the gentle little wife he kept at home—but she was the one truly holding the household reins.
They cooked together: Xu Qinghuan made the eggplant; Lin An prepared the wings.
Slice shallow cuts into wings, rinse, marinate ten minutes with wine, salt, ginger. Heat oil, fry until golden. Add ginger, garlic. Pour in cola, light soy—no extra sugar needed—plus salt, dark soy, optional spices. Simmer fifteen minutes, high heat to reduce. Simple.
After dinner, Xu Qinghuan reached for the sink—then her phone rang.
Lin An watched discreetly. Her expression tightened, lips curling in a faint, mocking smirk.
“I’ll be out. Dishes are yours, little brother.”
She pressed her hands on his shoulders. He nodded. Wanted to ask where—but she left too fast. Words died unspoken.
*Why rehearse? Just ask.* He chuckled at himself, washed the dishes. Then Xiao Chacha messaged: *Game time!*
She’d switched to a Silver account. “Let’s smurf,” she said. Lin An agreed—he loved Silver matches. Freedom to play loose.
They joined voice chat.
“This lady’s playing Yone today!! Charge!”
Xiao Chacha always turned adorably childish while gaming. Lin An smiled. Everything felt normal, as if last night never happened. She picked Yone; he chose Yasuo top lane.
Predictable stomp. Her ultimate hit four enemies. “Yasuo! Ult now!” Lin An E-Q’d minions, activated R. Victory.
He checked her stats—Yone all day.
“You skipped class?”
“Took leave. Still… sore.” Her voice softened. Lin An gave an awkward chuckle.
Next match queued.
“I’ve decided,” Xiao Chacha murmured, “to apologize to those girls.”
“Hm?”
“Apologize.”
“That’s good.”
“You think so? …Maybe it’ll ease my heart.” She sounded like she was talking to herself. They loaded bot lane: Lin An on Lucian, she on Senna.
Clumsy play—no harass, no wards—but she followed faithfully, healing him. “Oho~ Is this lady’s healing *plenty*?”
“Soraka would heal more.”
*At least Soraka Qs the enemy. Senna just… heals.*
“Hmph! My heals are perfect… Besides, haven’t you *tasted* them?” Her voice stayed pure, fearless—a rebel tomboy dropping cheeky lines.
“Can’t argue.”
“Hehe.”
Her teasing ended. Lane phase over: two-for-four trade. Only enemy Caitlyn remained. Both low health. Lin An braced for death. *She’d never block bullets before. Always stole the second blue buff. I indulged her.*
Caitlyn’s ultimate locked. Bullet flew. Xiao Chacha stood still—no move to block. Lin An hoped for last hits…
Golden light flashed. Senna blinked in front of him.
Bang.
Senna eliminated.
“What was that?” Lin An’s hand trembled.
“Carry it. You’ve got a 1k bounty—waste to feed Caitlyn.”
Silence. Two seconds. *It’s just a game. Even 3k gold wouldn’t save them.*
*Why’s she acting different?*
After a beat, Xiao Chacha chirped: “What? Touched?”
“Nah. Not at all.”
Uncharacteristically, Lin An didn’t push. He dove turret after turret—killing Caitlyn fifteen times straight. Enemy staged a comeback. Base exploded. Lin An felt dazed.
“Xiao Chacha?”
“Hm? What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just… calling your name.”
Lin An shook his head, clearing the thought. *Don’t get full of yourself.*
