Qiu Muzhe fell into step beside Gu Chuan’s right. Not to be outdone, An Qianmeng quickly moved to his left—and wrapped both arms around his left arm.

An Qianmeng was a girl with zero sense of personal space. Back when she first signed the rental contract with Gu Chuan, she’d dragged him into her mansion’s private room the very next day—just the two of them. Even now, her innocence remained untouched. Her soft chest pressed firmly against his arm. He sucked in a sharp breath.

If he joked it “hurt from rubbing,” would he get smacked?

Ahem—kidding. An Qianmeng was far from “steel-plated.”

Quite the opposite: her figure sat well above average, hips and legs especially stunning.

“Senior, I’ve added you,” Qiu Muzhe said.

Gu Chuan lifted his gaze. “Is that so?”

He wasn’t curious how she got his contact. He’d long learned Qiu Muzhe’s methods knew no bounds.

But An Qianmeng bristled, eyebrows furrowed. “How did you find Gu Chuan’s number?!”

“A quick school forum search,” Qiu Muzhe replied calmly. “Yours too, Senior…” A pause. “Done. Added.”

“Y-you added *me*?!” An Qianmeng struck a dramatic pose: “Help! Someone’s plotting against this consort!”

“Senior can always reject it,” Qiu Muzhe added lightly.

“Hmph! I’ll see what tricks you’ve got!” An Qianmeng snapped. She pulled her bunny-cased phone from her rose-gold-accented LV bag, unlocked it, and accepted the request in one smooth motion.

Gu Chuan sighed inwardly. *So easily baited… How can she compete with Qiu Muzhe’s scheming?*

…Then again—could natural innocence ever counter scheming?

The three descended the stairs. An odd tension hung in the air until Gu Chuan suddenly asked,

“Has either of you… kept a cat?”

An Qianmeng shot her hand up.

*Please don’t act like a grade-schooler right now… my lady.*

“I’ve never kept one!”

*You haven’t—but you raised your hand?!*

The corner of Gu Chuan’s mouth twitched.

Qiu Muzhe let out a soft chuckle at his expression, then turned the question back:

“Senior… do you like cats?”

Truly, the two were fire and ice.

Gu Chuan’s mind flashed to that morning: Xuechun, the cat girl, tiptoeing in the kitchen, preparing his warm breakfast alone.

“…Yeah. I do.”

Who wouldn’t love cats? So cute, soft, fluffy.

Qiu Muzhe nodded meaningfully, then opened her phone to type something.

A habit—notes for studying, notes for chasing guys. No wonder she’d ranked first school-wide and became freshman representative at Lanfeng High’s opening ceremony.

With An Qianmeng, you felt safe. She was… well, the kind of girl who gave her whole heart without hesitation.

Qiu Muzhe? Brilliant. She let you think you held her close—yet you never truly grasped her. Her real skill wasn’t closeness. It was distance.

Just beside you: one step closer = intimacy; one step back = detachment.

Unlike An Qianmeng, who clung to him like offering everything, utterly unbothered by onlookers.

The walk from classroom building to gate stretched on, this strange triangle persisting.

Gu Chuan favored the antique corridor—the school’s gardens were lovely. Wisteria blossoms draped gracefully overhead, petals vibrant and soft as pale purple sakura snow.

He reached out, gently brushing the bloom resting on his shoulder.

*Pluck while it blooms.*

Even untouched, it would fall like snow.

Thinking of Xuechun—had she ever seen flowers this beautiful?—he carefully snapped a nearly-fallen sprig and tucked it into his pocket.

An Qianmeng pinched his arm. Not hard. But the feeling lingered.

“…”

She’d likely thought he picked it for her. Disappointment flickered.

Still, her pout stayed mild—after all, he hadn’t given it to *her* either.

How could she know another “cat girl” waited at his home?

Past the hundred-meter corridor and ornamental flowerbed, they reached the main avenue: wide, straight, gate at one end, a lavish fountain at its heart.

No cheeky “peeing cherub” statue here—but the pure white porcelain elephant left plenty to the imagination.

Gu Chuan had lost count of the shy or bold teasing he’d overheard beside it.

An Qianmeng once froze when he joked the trunk resembled *something*. Pink steam seemed to puff from her head; tiny pink fists hammered his chest in flustered shame.

She was pure. Innocent. Sheltered by family and school.

Boys dared not approach the unattainable beauty on a pedestal.

Yet adolescent restlessness drove her to do something wild: “confess” to Gu Chuan.

—“I heard… if I pay… you’ll, you’ll do it, right?!”

—“Miss, please don’t slander my reputation. When have I ever—”

—“(She pulled out ten hundred-yuan bills) P-please be my rental boyfriend!”

—“Of course. Happy to serve.”

Maybe Gu Chuan had no principles.

He was a bottomless pit for money.

This year: romanced the literature club president (a top female-novel author, fees enviable), dated the arts club senior (art families = wealthy), now “with” campus beauty An Qianmeng (only daughter of a tycoon, generosity effortless).

So why was he searching for instant noodles on “Pinduoduo”?

The only skin he’d ever bought at full price? The “Dragon Lord: Fiery… Dragon Sett” skin, gifted by in-game friend HeyZed.

Same cheap, remote apartment. Zero bad habits.

Every yuan from those little rich girls vanished like mist.

Yet none of it mattered.

Gu Chuan was a lake—a lake that drew you in deep, made you willingly drown without a second thought.