The supermarket was spacious. Two boys who looked like students walked side by side, chatting in a relaxed, harmonious rhythm.

Occasionally, when Wen Tinghan couldn’t reach a high shelf, Gu Chuan would gently lift his hand to grab the item for him—radiating quiet, protective charm.

A few girls nearby covered their mouths in excitement, whispering to friends, marveling at the pair’s courage and quiet defiance of norms.

Gu Chuan: ?

In the pet supplies aisle, Wen Tinghan offered a shy smile and handed Gu Chuan a small ointment-like tube.

“What’s this?”

“Hairball paste. Honestly, not really necessary—if your cat’s healthy, you might never need it.”

“It helps cats pass hairballs formed from fur they swallow while grooming.”

“Cat grass is actually a better choice.”

“Cat grass?” Gu Chuan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He took the tube and examined it closely.

“It’s a general term for cat-friendly plants. The tiny hairs on the blades help cats bring up swallowed fur.”

“Easy to grow. I’ll send you the link later, plus other cat essentials.”

“Thanks. I’ll leave it to you.”

Gu Chuan suddenly recalled Xuechun in her cat form—fastidious little thing, always meticulously licking her fur.

But as a catgirl?

Would she still groom herself?

And… which parts could she even reach…?

A blush crept up his cheeks. He quickly shook off the bold thought.

He reached for the cart—but froze at the price tag.

“So expensive… over a hundred yuan for this tiny tube?!”

Wen Tinghan’s smile faltered, eyes widening with flustered guilt.

“G-Gu Chuan… are you short on money lately?”

“A bit. Spending more than I earn. If I skip ‘that’ job, I might need to take a few gaming gigs.”

“‘That’? Gigs?”

“Nothing major. Boosting accounts. I’m decent at games—help others rank up for cash.”

Wen Tinghan nodded softly. “You can do anything if you set your mind to it…”

Unlike himself—barely keeping up with studies, no time for leisure.

His mood dipped for a heartbeat, then he forced a bright smile, tilting his head up at Gu Chuan’s flawless profile. His pulse quickened.

“Skip the paste. You’ve just started raising a cat—you won’t need it yet.”

“I’ll send the cat grass link. Cheap, harmless, better choice.”

“Okay.”

“Then let’s buy the little fish!”

Gu Chuan nodded lightly and followed Wen Tinghan toward the aquatic section.

They weighed five small fish—each about two liang (100g), totaling one jin (500g)—for ten yuan. Packed in a clear bag with water to keep them lively, the two chatted and laughed, stepping out of the supermarket into the crimson glow of sunset.

As expected, Wen Tinghan’s home was very close.

Just one block from the supermarket stood the entrance to a residential complex framed by tall buildings.

*Muxin Yayuan*—the complex’s name.

Wen Tinghan pulled out his access card, tapped the reader.

*Beep.* The side gate slid open.

He glanced back with a warm smile, gesturing Gu Chuan inside.

The security guard, scanning entrants with solemn diligence, blinked in mild surprise at the pair.

Gu Chuan gazed up at the towers, dazed—until Wen Tinghan nudged him. He blinked and hurried after.

“So clean,” he murmured.

Lush greenery, tidy facilities, red-brick paths… Walking here felt like coming home. Warmth bloomed in his chest.

Wen Tinghan’s family was clearly comfortable, harmonious, worry-free. Gu Chuan felt a quiet pang of envy.

“Almost there—Building 12, Unit 1.”

Gu Chuan, hopelessly directionally challenged, simply nodded and followed deeper.

They passed aunties carrying groceries, grandmas dressed neatly for cards or square dancing.

Near a shaded clearing, a boy flipped his skateboard while a girl—likely his childhood sweetheart—called his name.

Every detail hummed with the gentle rhythm of everyday life.

A world away from the “haunted house” he rented—a dim alley where neon flickered past midnight and dubious dealings whispered from the neighboring hotel.

Wen Tinghan’s nerves tightened.

This wasn’t just Gu Chuan’s first visit to a classmate’s home.

It was Wen Tinghan’s first time bringing *anyone* home.

And it was *Gu Chuan*—someone exceptionally special to him.

At Building 12, Unit 1, he entered the password. The door clicked open. His anxiety deepened.

Inside the elevator, he asked softly:

“Are your parents… home? I didn’t bring fruit or anything…”

“I’ve heard you’re supposed to bring gifts when visiting…”

But Gu Chuan rarely visited relatives—let alone made house calls.

Wen Tinghan curled slightly in the elevator corner, small and quiet, eyes fixed on the flickering ads.

At Gu Chuan’s question, he startled back to attention. His voice softened unexpectedly.

“Mom might be home… Dad’s probably still at work.”

Gu Chuan silently rehearsed *“Hello, Auntie.”*

“Don’t stress,” Wen Tinghan added quickly. “My family’s relaxed. They just want me happy. They’ve been so kind… I want to make them proud.”

“You’ll succeed. Even a slacker’s blessing counts,” Gu Chuan smiled.

“You’re smart, Gu Chuan… you just haven’t tried.”

“Remember when you helped me with that math problem?”

“Did I?”

“Yes… You leaned so close my ears burned from your breath. You hadn’t even listened in class—yet solved what stumped me for half the lesson.”

“But I’m not jealous.”

“Gu Chuan… you deserve all the good things in the world.”