Chapter 25

Ai Qing’s brain felt like mush.

This was definitely his own screw-up.

Xiao Yu had only learned how to turn a door handle in the last few days, and lately he’d been so busy teaching her to walk that she’d hardly practiced opening anything on her own.

On top of that, he’d assumed the doorbell was Sis Qian dropping by to remind him about the opening ceremony this afternoon—someone who’d never dream of stepping inside.

Then Kong Fugui had shown up, his best buddy back from overseas, and the whole matter had flown straight out of his head.

If life gave him a rewind, he’d punt Kong Fugui off the porch before the guy could blink.

Sadly, life doesn’t do reruns.

All Ai Qing could do, under Kong Fugui’s twitching smirk, was bolt to the bedroom door.

Xiao Yu seemed to realize she’d goofed; the moment she saw him thundering over, she yanked her head back inside.

By the time he burst in, she’d already wriggled under the desk.

Still, she couldn’t resist poking her head out to reconnoiter.

Their eyes met—she snapped back, dragged the chair flush against the desk, and vanished beneath it like a shell over a turtle.

Apparently that made her invisible.

“You are not to open that door by yourself, got it?” Ai Qing crouched, reaching past the chair, irritation crackling in his voice. “If anyone sees you like this, my reputation is toast.”

Little Kitty didn’t grasp the words, only the tone.

She lowered her head, wide eyes brimming with please-don’t-hit-me.

Whenever she’d knocked stuff off the table before, Ai Qing would scoop her up, toss her on the bed, and spank her tiny butt.

So now, confronted by his thundercloud face, she went straight for pity.

Under the desk she squatted, blinking up at him, cat ears pinned flat in fright.

The picture was... unfairly adorable.

Hard to scold. Impossible to swat.

Ai Qing exhaled. He threaded his left hand through the chair back and ruffled her hair. “Stay in here unless we’re alone, okay?”

He knew she didn’t understand, but talking still helped; maybe one day human syllables would click.

He slid the chair aside, stood, and left, shutting the door behind him.

From the living-room cabinet he fished out a spare key and clicked the bedroom lock shut.

“Dude, why the spy-movie routine?” Kong Fugui deadpanned. “I’m not gonna narc on you. Bro-code, remember?”

“Let me explain—this isn’t—”

“Relax, relax.” Kong Fugui vaulted off the sofa, slung an arm around Ai Qing’s neck, and hauled him down onto the cushions. “I get it. We’re men.”

He thumped Ai Qing’s chest in buddy solidarity. “Your secret’s vault-sealed. Just you, me, and the furniture.”

“Didn’t peg you for the 2-D type, though,” he went on, grinning. “White hair, cat ears, role-play—nice combo.

So, where’d you pick her up? Comic-con? Cosplay cutie you lured home?

She looks young. Legal, I hope?”

The barrage left Ai Qing dizzy.

He finally found his voice. “You swear you won’t breathe a word?”

“Scout’s honor.” Kong Fugui patted his chest. “Remember sophomore year? You kept quiet when I sneaked out to meet my girlfriend. Debts paid.”

“Yeah, and my dad still reamed me afterward.”

“Ancient history. We’re adults now; parents don’t get a vote.”

Kong Fugui leaned in. “So this is legit dating, right?”

“Uh... yeah.” Ai Qing hedged—because what else could he say?

Calling Xiao Yu his girlfriend felt criminal, but denial would only make things worse.

Better to let Kong Fugui think whatever.

Luckily, Kong Fugui could keep a secret tighter than a pickle jar.

Still... Ai Qing had already been sweating over how to explain the women’s clothes he’d bought to Sis Qian.

Now this.

Fate really loved kicking him in the teeth.

Kong Fugui sighed and clapped his shoulder. “I used to worry you and Lao Wu would die single.

Seeing you ‘get it’ finally? Huge relief.

Hope when Lao Wu musters out, he follows your example and lands a girl.”

“‘Gets it’ my foot,” Ai Qing muttered. “Single life is peaceful. Romance is overrated.”

“Classic—guy scores and suddenly the prize ain’t worth much.” Kong Fugui chuckled. “No way a cutie like that chased you. You hunted, you caught, own it.”

Ai Qing said nothing, thinking: Actually, she delivered herself to my door—mom included.

More child-bride than chase.

And she literally hopped into my bed first.

He rubbed his temples, evicting the mental chaos.

“Can we drop this? If you’ve no other crisis, go entertain your own girlfriend and stop blocking my afternoon.”

“Fair.” Kong Fugui stood, wearing an ‘I-know-what-you’ll-be-doing’ smirk. “Didn’t mean to crash the party. Continue... enthusiastically.”

He figured the cosplay outfit meant he’d interrupted mid-scene.

Ai Qing’s calm was already saint-level; in Kong Fugui’s shoes he’d have let the doorbell ring and finished the mission.

With that, Kong Fugui beat a tactful retreat. “See you this afternoon. Have fun, champ.”

“Wait, it’s not—”

Too late; the guy was out the front door, even considerate enough to pull it shut.

Click.

The bedroom door edged open.

Xiao Yu lay on her belly, peeking out, curiosity bright on her innocent face as she studied Ai Qing standing in the living room, hands over his eyes, wondering how life got so complicated.

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