Feng Shao once asked me to be his sworn big brother—I politely turned him down.

I’m no street thug, and I don’t enjoy brawling daily. He wouldn’t give up, though. Before leaving, he insisted on treating me to a meal someday. After thinking it over, I declined that too.

A few days passed since the billiard hall incident. The flamboyantly dressed group who used to loiter outside the internet cafe had vanished. With one eye still slightly swollen, I finally got the peaceful life I’d wished for—

Cooking for Long Ge and Minghai every morning. Cooking for Long Ge and Minghai at noon. Cooking for Long Ge and Minghai every evening… Damn, so peaceful. Honestly, wasn’t fighting way more exciting?

Though that group who’d threatened to stab Long Ge had disappeared, she still stayed home gaming all day, leaving her room hazy with cigarette smoke—

I decided to let her be. As long as she stayed out of trouble, that was all that mattered.

Lao Han and Xiao Yao had gone home yesterday. Her place was close—just one street over, under fifteen minutes’ walk. She could drop by anytime.

Another bright, sunny day.

Winter seemed to be fading. Morning sunlight felt especially warm. A February breeze drifted through the window, cool and refreshing.

The weather was perfect. I wondered if I should go out. I cracked the window open a sliver—fresh air instantly filled the room.

Minghai had just woken up, sitting on the sofa spacing out.

Thirsty, I went to the kitchen, poured water, grabbed a tray, and brewed three cups of lemon tea.

Long Ge was still gaming in her room. I carried one cup in. She was glued to the screen, legs crossed, draped in a bright red tracksuit. Underneath, she wore my oversized white T-shirt—loose on her frame, half her shoulders exposed. Below? Shamelessly, just white briefs.

An inexplicable heat rose in me that morning.

I averted my gaze, deliberately avoiding the pale skin at her chest, and set the cup on her desk.

Long Ge sighed, stretched lazily, turned with a smile. “Thanks.”

I nodded casually and left. Minghai still sat on the sofa. I placed her tea down—but she didn’t glance up, eyes fixed blankly on the TV.

I smiled. “Watching TV?”

She paused, turned slowly, and nodded.

I nodded back, picked up the remote, and switched the TV on—

Watching TV without turning it on? Truly, a master of chill.

Sipping lemon tea contentedly, I flipped channels. Morning TV: period dramas, a reboot of *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*…

Bored, I landed on local news and settled in.

A reporter gestured energetically behind her at a familiar-looking street.

I frowned. Wait… this place felt oddly familiar.

She described the location, then interviewed locals—asking if anyone had caused trouble nearby. Simple folks carrying vegetable baskets or birdcages just shook their heads, waving politely. “No idea,” they said.

I took a sip. *What’s this about? Another wanted criminal nearby?*

These really are uneasy times…

Suddenly, the anchor faced the camera: “…That concludes our report. The recent vandalism at the billiard hall is suspected to involve local gang activity. Police have officially opened an investigation…”

I spat my lemon tea straight out.

Minghai turned, gave me a completely unfazed look, and went back to staring at the screen.

I froze on the sofa.

Wait… this is damn scary…

Truth is, cheeky as I am, I’m just an ordinary young guy. Hearing “police investigation” sent a chill through me.

I sat there, thinking it through. Actually… I hadn’t started anything. *I* was the one attacked first—and beaten the worst.

My eye’s still swollen. That’s a minor injury, right? I haven’t even pursued compensation—heck, I could’ve squeezed tens of thousands out of them.

As Long Ge said: even if they come, we acted in self-defense. Clean conscience, nothing to fear. Those knife-wielding thugs likely have records. At worst? A small fine—maybe a few hundred bucks…

My mind settled, just a little.

Minghai still stared at the TV. I doubted she was even watching—the focus in her eyes wasn’t on the screen.

I noticed her shirt had changed. White when she first arrived; now soft blue. Probably bought during that mall trip with Lao Han…

Then I remembered Long Ge. Still wearing that street-stall tracksuit.

I glanced outside.

Perfect weather. Time to take Long Ge shopping.

Her room was still thick with smoke. I waved the haze from my nose and opened the window.

Long Ge, tracksuit draped over bare shoulders, briefs on, fingers flying across the keyboard—glanced at me, then back to screen.

“What a gorgeous day. Still gaming indoors?” I leaned by the window, breathed fresh air, and turned to her.

She ignored me—deep in a team fight. Keys clacked rapidly under her fingers.

I waited. Finally, she exhaled. “Might as well play at home.”

She yawned, stretched back in her chair—curves on full display.

I dropped my gaze. Two shy cigarette burns stared back from the side of her red tracksuit.

*This month just ended. Parents sent two grand each yesterday.*

Today, she’s getting new clothes. No debate.

She finished the fight, switched accounts to grind. In-game, Selia’s silvery voice chimed: *“Today is another day full of hope!”*

Long Ge giggled like a goof and mimicked: “Todaay~~ is another day full of hope~!”

“Let’s go buy clothes after you finish this account’s fatigue,” I said, standing beside her.

“Nah. Don’t wanna,” she drawled.

A vein throbbed at my temple. “Go with me, and I’ll buy you a mountain of snacks.”

She jolted upright, eyes locked on screen. “Critical! …Ugh. Just a dog’s eye.”

I leaned on the desk, forcing a smile. “You’re coming. I’ll treat you to a real meal—way better than instant noodles.”

She scratched her head. “But I just ate?”

*Do I have to grovel to get you dressed?!* My fake smile cracked.

“I’ll buy you the Tiankong set! Stop grinding. Come now—or I’ll kick you down the stairs!”

At “Tiankong set,” she turned slowly, studied me, then sighed. “Fine. Wait while I put pants on.”

She yanked them up in seconds, wiggled her hips, and followed me out.

We took a taxi to the mall Lao Han had recommended days ago. Bustling crowds. Long Ge dug in her ear, scanning around like a rebellious teen.

I pondered what to buy first—then noticed stares.

Long Ge stood out fiercely: bold red and green, effortlessly mismatched. A modern-day “Sharp Brother.” Hundred-percent head-turn rate.

Face burning, I grabbed her hand and marched toward a women’s boutique.

She yanked back. “What?!”

“Buying clothes?!”

She blinked. “Clothes? You want me to wear *women’s* clothes?”

I went silent—

…Well, technically, yes.

But today, she was getting an outfit. I locked eyes with her. “Bai Hailong. Listen. You’re not leaving. Whatever I buy, you wear. Understood?”

She yawned. “Didn’t hear. Going home.”

“Tiankong set.”

I pulled the grumbling Long Ge inside. Lao Han swore this store was worth it—pricey, but branded, quality, diverse styles. She had taste.

“Welcome! How may I—”

The salesperson’s professional smile faltered mid-greeting, eyes landing on Long Ge’s… *eclectic* fit.

Long Ge shot me a reproachful look and strode in. I followed, smiling at the clerk. “Just browsing.”

He stared after her, then hurried over. “Sir… your girlfriend is truly beautiful. It’s just… her style is a bit… *bold*. But our store has every style! With the right outfit, she’ll radiate elegance…”

He’d tiptoed around the word, landing carefully on “bold.” I chuckled. Inside, Long Ge stood hands-in-pockets, scanning aisles like a street-smart teen.

“Any recommendations?” I asked.

He gave an awkward smile, led me to a rack. “Our current bestseller. Spring’s coming—feel this fabric. The faux leather’s premium, the cut ultra-trendy. She’d look incredibly stylish in it…”