"A him! A him!! He’s almost dead—just a sliver left!!"

Ren Jie’s desperate scream crackled through the headset, making Lu Yu’s brows furrow.

Following Ren Jie’s callout, Lu Yu peeked into the bush—

only to jump back as a nearly full-health enemy suddenly popped out.

Luckily, Lu Yu was well-farmed. With a full legendary build in hand, deleting the foe took seconds.

After the fight, Ren Jie typed "666" in-game chat.

Lu Yu grabbed the mic, deadpan: "You call *that* low health?"

"The hell? That’s full health?!"

"Hehe… close enough! Anyone who used their skills counts as low HP…"

Ren Jie scratched his head, grinning sheepishly.

Face still cold, Lu Yu clicked the enemy crystal. The "VICTORY" icon flashed.

"Yay! Another win!" Ren Jie clapped. "Play again, Brother Lu?"

Lu Yu checked the clock—still early.

"Play."

The moment he spoke, Ren Jie, terrified Lu Yu might back out, instantly queued the next match.

While waiting for the ranked queue, Lu Yu reached for Bilibili—

when his phone on the desk suddenly rang.

Almost without thinking, before even seeing the caller, he curled a finger and swiped to answer.

"…Hello? Lu Yu?"

Lin Beixing’s voice jolted him awake.

Ren Jie in the headset froze too.

Hearing the call, he’d wondered which girl was texting Brother Lu this late—until that familiar class monitor voice hit. Ren Jie nearly dropped his mouse.

No. She wasn’t just "class monitor" anymore.

She was *definitely* "sister-in-law" now.

Lu Yu pulled off the headset, ignoring Ren Jie’s monkey-like chatter.

He lifted the phone to his ear; it switched to earpiece mode.

"What’s up?"

Exhaustion softened his voice unexpectedly.

Ren Jie’s shrieking crackled through the mic again.

Lu Yu calmly exited the in-game voice chat.

"Lu Yu… asleep yet?"

"No…"

After enduring the music teacher’s afternoon torture, Lu Yu thought any woman’s voice would make him nauseous.

Yet Lin Beixing’s? Surprisingly pleasant.

Her voice was delicate, every syllable precise—soft, tender.

Especially drowsy Lin Beixing: speaking like a just-woken kitten, tone velvety and warm.

Kinda nice.

Lu Yu fiddled with the mouse cable, waiting.

"…You’re gaming again."

A faint rustle of fabric came from her end—

she was probably calling secretly under the covers.

Lu Yu’s finger hovered over "Accept Match," then paused.

He double-checked the time: 2:05 a.m.

Normally, he wouldn’t sleep this early.

"…Last game," he replied uncertainly.

"Tomorrow’s Monday. Flag-raising ceremony and morning assembly… we need to arrive earlier."

Lin Beixing’s tone was calm, almost murmuring to herself.

She had no right to demand anything—just wanted him rested.

"The monitor’s right," Lu Yu said, not clicking. He added gently, "Something happen?"

"No…"

Game chat flooded with messages. Ren Jie whined and shrieked, desperate for gossip.

Bro Jie: Waaah! Why cancel?! Is sister-in-law stopping you?! IS IT?!

Bro Jie: TELL ME! I’M DYING!!

Bro Jie: Was your clash with that old woman today also because of sister-in-law?!

Bro Jie: Brother Lu, I’ve been insensitive! Go keep sister-in-law company! I won’t bother you!

Bro Jie: Full details tomorrow at school! OVER!!

Lu Yu skimmed the chaos, closed the game, and lay back.

Yeah… he was tired. Today had drained him completely.

"Why ask that…" Lin Beixing whispered.

"You wouldn’t call if nothing’s wrong," Lu Yu stated flatly.

Silence stretched for seconds.

He realized the ambiguity. "…I meant—did your mom give you trouble again?"

"No. Mom didn’t say a word tonight…"

"Good."

"How’d you manage it?"

"Not much. Just shamelessly begged Ms. Gao… not to tell your mom. In return, I promised to practice properly next time. So… you’ll have to try harder."

"Mm…" A hint of laughter colored her voice. "I will."

"No need to push too hard."

Lu Yu suddenly recalled yesterday—right after the swap—the coffee cups on her desk, scattered problem sets, messy sheet music.

His tone softened: "Don’t overwork yourself."

"Just…" He paused. "Give yourself a little rest."

"I *am* resting! I’m resting right now!"

"It’s 2 a.m."

"Two’s normal! You’re not asleep either."

"I can nap all day in class tomorrow. Can you?"

"…"

Lin Beixing fell silent. Of course she couldn’t. But then—

"Lu Yu… did you forget something?"

"…Hm?"

"I’m class monitor. You openly declaring you’ll sleep in class—isn’t that challenging my authority?"

"Ts…"

A thought path he never saw coming.

Old Lu Yu feared no monitor, not even the headmaster.

But now… the monitor had a tiny edge.

Gentle gaze, unwavering resolve, that faux-stern tone—

adorably fierce.

"…I’m sleeping."

Too tired. He shut the window, muffling the late-night snack shop noise. The room turned stuffy.

"Your homework… I didn’t do it."

After the math teacher caught her forging his handwriting once, Lin Beixing hadn’t added a single stroke this weekend—just reviewed notes, solved a few problems on scratch paper.

His homework remained blank.

"I finished mine. I’ll arrive half an hour early tomorrow. Come with me—I’ll let you copy."

Lu Yu froze for two full seconds.

Since when does a monitor *offer* homework to copy?

And… he couldn’t even understand the problems. What’s the point?

"Copying helps you review formulas. This week’s light. Just try, Lu Yu."

He remembered her tapping his desk: "Hand it in."

Every time he said "Didn’t do it," she’d glare coolly: "I’ll report you."

Most teachers didn’t care anymore—but Lin Beixing held her ground.

This monitor… never gave up on him.

But why…

"I…"

"If you don’t submit," she cut in, voice firm, "I *will* report you."

"…"

Lu Yu was slightly taken aback—and smiled at the familiar line.

"6:30 a.m. Classroom."

Her tone turned icy. Hearing it, you could almost see her gentle face with that cool, determined edge.

The more he pictured it… the more adorably fierce she seemed.

Like that Coal Ball cat beside him, biting when hungry.

"Fine."

Half an hour early or late barely mattered. He’d nap in class anyway—just thirty minutes less sleep.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

After goodbye, the "good" in Lin Beixing’s "good night" caught in her throat.

Lu Yu turned off the light, yawned in bed.

"Good night."

Her voice faltered, flustered: "G-good night…"