Tao Zhi felt that this move of hers was extremely perfect.

Afraid that Tao Xiuping wouldn’t believe her, she struck while the iron was hot, braced the cabinet door, and did it two more times, saying with a straight face, “Doing it while lying on the floor is too tiring, I can’t push myself up. Weibo said this way can also train arm muscles, there’s even a video tutorial.”

Tao Xiuping still looked dumbfounded. He felt that kids these days had all sorts of strange performance arts that were really hard to understand. Half believing, half doubting, he nodded: “Alright, nothing else making you unhappy?”

Tao Zhi shook her head like a rattle drum. “No, how could I be unhappy.”

Tao Xiuping continued nodding. His gaze swept across the room and landed on the coat Jiang Qihuai had just draped over the sofa.

Following his gaze, Tao Zhi’s heart suddenly jumped.

Of all the things she’d planned for, she forgot to hide Jiang Qihuai’s coat too.

When he took it off, she hadn’t thought about it at all. She didn’t feel anything at the time, but once she realized she was secretly dating, guilt naturally welled up.

She held the cabinet door tightly closed, wanting to reach out to grab the coat, but afraid that if she loosened her grip, Jiang Qihuai would fall straight out from inside.

“Hang up the coat,” Tao Xiuping didn’t linger on it, “Your room’s actually quite clean today, how come clothes are still thrown everywhere.”

Tao Zhi nodded rapidly, not moving an inch.

Tao Xiuping looked at her, somewhat amused. “Alright then, stop holding that cabinet door like that, do you think your dad’s here for a dorm inspection? Come down for dinner later, okay?”

“…”

Tao Zhi responded dryly.

Tao Xiuping walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Tao Zhi pricked up her ears and listened quietly for a moment. Only when the faint sound of footsteps disappeared did she finally let out a long breath. Her arms slipped down as she pulled open the wardrobe door.

The wardrobe carried the scent of laundry detergent and jasmine aroma beads. On the upper rod hung rows of dresses and jackets, packed tightly together. Jiang Qihuai sat below on a pile of folded pants, surrounded on all sides by plush toys, buried in a heap of sweaters.

He leaned back into the arms of a brown teddy bear, his left hand pressing against the sweater she had thrown in that morning. A pair of sports pants was tangled around his legs, a Peter Rabbit doll in his arms, and a pile of snacks beside him.

When he heard the door being pulled open, Jiang Qihuai lifted his head. His eyes, steeped in the wardrobe’s darkness, met the light from outside. He squinted slightly, adjusted to it, and said, “Is this your secret base?”

Tao Zhi: “…”

Jiang Qihuai flicked away the rabbit by its ears, picked up a bag of potato chips beside him—the yellow wrapper crinkled loudly in his hand. Holding it up before his eyes, he stared for a moment, then said unhurriedly, “You like eating inside the wardrobe?”

Expressionless, Tao Zhi lowered her head to look at him, then swung her arm and slammed the wardrobe door shut again.

She walked to the bed, sat down, and flopped face-first into the blankets, almost in self-abandon.

Those who go out and stir up trouble always have to pay it back.

Tao Zhi didn’t even know why she’d gotten up early this morning just to clean this room.

From the direction of the wardrobe came faint rustling sounds. Jiang Qihuai climbed out from inside, casually took off the sweater hanging over his head and hung it back up properly. Then he crouched before the cabinet, picking up all the plush toys and snacks inside, one by one.

There were quite a lot—just the dolls alone numbered over a dozen, and there was a huge pile of snacks. In the corner of the wardrobe were also some figurines and little trinkets.

Jiang Qihuai turned his head toward the girl buried in the bed. “Got a bag?”

Tao Zhi’s head was buried in the pillow, refusing to look up. Her legs dangled over the edge of the bed, swinging lazily from side to side in reluctance.

That meant no.

So, this scavenger still had to do the job himself.

Jiang Qihuai stretched his long arm out and swept all the clutter from the bottom of her cabinet into a pile. After glancing through it, he walked to the bedside drawer and neatly arranged each item on top one by one. Then, from the corner, he dragged out a small, flattened fabric storage basket, tossed the snacks inside, and placed it by the wall.

After that, he carried the armful of plush toys over to the bed, looking down at the girl lying there motionless like a corpse.

Jiang Qihuai began placing the stuffed dolls on her one by one.

A rabbit on her head, a bear on her back, smaller ones on her legs—more than ten of them, neatly arranged all over her body.

Even though the plush toys were light, having them spread over her like a tablecloth still made Tao Zhi feel a little suffocated.

She turned over, and all the dolls toppled off at once, landing around her in a circle.

Lying amid the pile of plush toys, Tao Zhi felt that ever since she met Jiang Qihuai, her carefully maintained image had completely fallen apart.

She closed her eyes peacefully. “Just pretend I’m dead.”

Standing beside the bed, Jiang Qihuai said slowly, “One week into our puppy love, and my girlfriend’s already made me a widower.”

“Don’t wait for me,” Tao Zhi waved her hand weakly. “If you meet a good girl, marry her. Don’t waste your youth on a dying person like me.”

Jiang Qihuai seemed to seriously consider her suggestion. After a moment, he said, “That works too.”

“Works your ass!” Tao Zhi snapped her eyes open, springing up from the heap of toys. She grabbed a small kangaroo plush and hurled it at him, glaring. “I knew it—you really have no heart.”

Jiang Qihuai caught the toy flying straight at his face and tossed it back onto the bed. “If you’ve come back from the dead, get up and go eat. After that, take a look at that math test you couldn’t even finish with your foot.”

Reluctantly, Tao Zhi got up. Then she remembered something and turned around. “Have you eaten lunch?”

“No.”

Tao Zhi nodded, walked to the desk, and sat down. “Then I won’t eat either.”

She patted the chair beside her. “Sit?”

Jiang Qihuai walked over and sat next to her. This chair was probably the one Jiang Hesheng used when tutoring her; right in front of them was the test paper he’d just finished marking.

Jiang Qihuai lowered his eyes, his gaze falling on it. His brow furrowed slightly in irritation.

He raised his hand and swept all the papers aside, then pulled out a new sheet and pushed it toward her. “Do it.”

Tao Zhi blinked. “You’re not going to explain the ones just now?”

“Your tutor’s the one teaching you. Why should I butt in?” Jiang Qihuai said flatly.

Tao Zhi nodded obediently, replying with a soft “Oh.”

They really did have different methods and styles. If Jiang Hesheng found out she’d asked someone else to explain the homework he assigned, it wouldn’t look good—like she didn’t have much faith in his ability.

Tao Zhi picked up her pen and began working on the problems obediently.

While she was doing the exercises, Jiang Qihuai had nothing to do, so he casually picked up an English composition book from the desk.

The moment he pulled it out, he felt it looked somewhat familiar.

That book must have been often read—its corners were slightly worn, the edges faintly frayed from constant handling. Jiang Qihuai opened the cover and glanced at the title page.

On the blank space, written in bold, flowing strokes of a black gel pen, was a single character:

—— Jiang.

Jiang Qihuai’s movement froze.

Tao Zhi finished a question and looked up, just in time to see him staring blankly at the book.

Following his gaze, her eyelids twitched. She instantly dropped her pen, reached out, and slapped her palm over that character.

Jiang Qihuai raised his eyes, one brow lifting slightly.

Caught red-handed for secretly keeping someone else’s book, Tao Zhi awkwardly turned her gaze away and muttered, “I already gave you another copy exactly the same.”

Jiang Qihuai said nothing.

Back then, she had hidden it in secret.

But now, it was different—now she could own it openly.

Tao Zhi pressed her lips together, slowly tugged at the book’s edge, pulling it out of his hands and laying it open before her.

She picked up her pen, thought for a moment, then began to write on the title page.

Their handwriting styles were completely different. When she finished, Tao Zhi lifted the book, admired her work for a second, then proudly pushed it toward him like she was presenting a treasure.

Jiang Qihuai lowered his eyes.

Originally, the page had only one character—“Jiang.” Now she had added more before it:

—— Zhizhi’s, Jiang.

Jiang Qihuai’s Adam’s apple moved. He lifted his gaze, and his eyes darkened deeply.

Propping her chin in her hand, Tao Zhi looked at him, her eyes curved in a smile. “I’ve finished this book too,” she said, imitating his tone from before. “If you want it, I can give it to you.”

She pointed at the characters “Zhizhi” at the front of the line, her voice softening as she said quietly, “This too… is yours now.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Jiang Qihuai stayed until the afternoon.

For most of the afternoon, the two of them simply worked on practice tests for each subject. Tao Zhi would finish one, and Jiang Qihuai would go over it with her. Neither of them got distracted by anything else.

After several hours of constant mental work, Tao Zhi finally began to feel hungry. She set down her pen, rubbed her eyes, and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms in a long lazy motion.

Downstairs was completely quiet. Tao Zhi quietly pushed open the bedroom door and, holding the banister, peeked over the railing. No one was in the living room.

She waved at Jiang Qihuai and whispered, “No one’s here now.”

Jiang Qihuai picked up his coat and was just about to head out when Tao Zhi quickly blocked his way.

She looked at him, puzzled. “Where are you going?”

Jiang Qihuai looked puzzled. “I’m going home.”

“You’re just going to leave without eating?” Tao Zhi snatched the coat from his hand, stood by the door, and tossed it from afar onto the sofa. “Every time I go to your house, Grandpa Jiang always cooks so much delicious food for me. I can’t just let you go home hungry, right? Wait here.”

Jiang Qihuai watched as she half-crouched, her eyes darting cautiously down both sides of the hallway, tiptoeing forward in tiny, sneaky steps. “What are you doing?”

“Keep your voice down! What if someone finds out?” Tao Zhi shot him an annoyed glare, whispering, “I’m going downstairs to steal something to eat for you.”

Jiang Qihuai: “…”

She really did use the word steal.

Jiang Qihuai couldn’t understand how she managed to make sneaking around her own house look like a full-blown burglary. He also wasn’t sure why he’d even come today.

What had he done, really? Other than helping her with problems, doing test papers, and reading a composition book—he hadn’t done anything else.

It was a perfectly wholesome, pure, and positive-energy kind of early romance interaction.

He stood by the door, watching as Tao Zhi moved with quick, nimble precision—nearly soundless—as she slipped downstairs and into the kitchen. Not long after, she came back up carrying two cups of instant noodles.

Tao Zhi darted back into the bedroom, shut the door, and held up the noodles, asking with great solemnity, “Do you want seafood or braised beef?”

Jiang Qihuai sighed. “Got any spare ribs?”

“There is, but that would require stealing it fresh,” Tao Zhi said seriously. “That’s a high-risk mission. Pick one of these two and make do.”

Jiang Qihuai reluctantly made do, choosing braised beef.

Tao Zhi cleared the desk, set down the noodle cups, and after the two of them finished eating, she even poured the leftover soup down the toilet—to destroy the evidence.

Jiang Qihuai thought this little girl was getting way too into it—completely immersed in her self-directed drama of “forbidden first love under parental opposition.”

Still, he patiently played along.

Winter days grew short, and by the time they finished the noodles, the sky was already dimming. Jiang Qihuai figured that if he stayed any longer, he’d end up having to play along through dinner too.

He stood up, picked up his coat again, and was about to leave.

Holding the coat over his arm, he paused. “Did uncle think this was yours?”

Tao Zhi waved dismissively. “He’s not even sure what grade I’m in anymore. No way he knows what coats I own.”

They walked to the entryway. Jiang Qihuai bent down to put on his shoes.

Tao Zhi froze when she saw them—his white sneakers sitting out openly beside the shoe cabinet.

Ji Fan’s shoes were just like his personality—loud and flashy, covered in bright colors and over-the-top decorations. Next to them, Jiang Qihuai’s clean white sneakers looked completely out of place.

Anyone with half a brain and working eyes wouldn’t possibly think those shoes belonged to Ji Fan.

Jiang Qihuai seemed to have the same thought. He stopped, glanced down, and asked quietly, “What about the shoes, then?”

“…”

Tao Zhi looked up at him, face pale.

The first floor was dark, with only the light above the entryway turned on. The dim glow cast soft shadows. Jiang Qihuai tilted his head, the corners of his lips faintly curved, his eyes slanting with amusement.

“Think on the bright side,” he said, without a shred of sympathy. “Maybe your uncle will just assume… you’ve got size forty-three feet.”

Tao Zhi: “…”