Chapter Thirty-Seven: Still Sleeping When the House Is About to Be Robbed!

On the other side, Nan Zhiyi watched as Qin Xuan fumbled to reply to Liu Ruoxi’s messages. Amusement flickered in her eyes, tinged with a hint of jealousy.

After a while, Qin Xuan sighed and looked over at Nan Zhiyi.
“Looks like we won’t be able to go out after all,” he said, pausing before continuing, “So, Nan Zhiyi, can’t you at least give me a hint?”

“Just call me Zhiyi, I don’t mind,” she replied, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Think for yourself. If you can’t remember, then just let it go.”

Qin Xuan was exasperated. Wasn’t she deliberately teasing him?

“By the way, you treated me to hot pot yesterday. Let me return the favor and treat you both to lunch today,” Nan Zhiyi suddenly offered.

“That’s really not necessary,” Qin Xuan said, his mind still preoccupied with figuring out who Nan Zhiyi was, and also with preparing breakfast for his two “little ancestors” back home.

“It is necessary!” Zhiyi was stubborn; once she made up her mind, it was hard to change.

“All right, all right. See you at noon, then.” Qin Xuan could only nod in resignation.

Suddenly, Nan Zhiyi seemed to remember something. She took out her phone and waved it. “Let’s add each other as friends!”

Qin Xuan, somewhat puzzled, opened up his QR code and asked, “You don’t have Ruoxi as a friend?”

“No, I usually don’t take the initiative.” Nan Zhiyi silently added in her heart: only with people I like do I make the first move.

Qin Xuan glanced at her profile picture—two kids making silly faces, completely at odds with the composed image he had of her. So this was the real Nan Zhiyi. What a surprise.

What he didn’t know was that the account she gave him was her private one; her main account was far more proper.

“All right, I’ll head back now,” Qin Xuan said, hurriedly leaving, worried Ruoxi would bombard him with messages again.

Nan Zhiyi watched the elevator doors close, biting her lip in disappointment. She turned to look at the half-finished cola Qin Xuan had left on the table, uncertain what to do. It would be a shame to throw it away, but…

Meanwhile, Qin Xuan, on his way downstairs, scrolled through Nan Zhiyi’s social feed. Just as he expected, the prettier someone was, the more deceptive they could be. Her posts were full of flirtatious banter—things he’d never be able to say. A classic case of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Qin Xuan decided it was easier to just pick up some steamed buns and porridge on his way home; he’d just washed the pans and wasn’t in the mood to cook again.

Back home, he knocked on Liu Ruoxi’s door and only entered after hearing her respond. And there she was, stretching her legs. His mind blanked, and only one phrase echoed: long, fair legs.

“Do you like what you see?” Ruoxi asked, unbothered, her skin noticeably thicker these days.

“Not really,” Qin Xuan answered honestly.

“Hm? Say that again.”

“If they’re not on my shoulders, they’re not worth looking at.” Qin Xuan parroted a line he’d just seen on Nan Zhiyi’s social feed, quick to put new tricks to use.

Ruoxi stared at him in disbelief. “Why is your flirtation so over the top?”

Qin Xuan had no words.

In the end, he dropped off a breakfast for Ruoxi and left another for Lin’er.

Ruoxi, still in her pajamas, ate breakfast on the sofa while playing with her phone, ignoring Qin Xuan’s sidelong glances. She really did have a knack for picking outfits—why hadn’t she worn things like this before?

“By the way, Nan Zhiyi’s treating us to lunch,” Qin Xuan remembered suddenly.

“Okay,” Ruoxi replied absent-mindedly, biting into a bun before realizing something was off. “You!”

Qin Xuan understood immediately, hastening to explain, “I ran into her when I went out earlier.”

“Oh? And then?” Ruoxi pressed, remembering what Lin’er had said yesterday, a seed of suspicion taking root.

“I went to her place for a bit, but then you messaged me, so I came right back.” Qin Xuan laid out the whole story—there was nothing to hide.

Ruoxi was puzzled. Something was off about Nan Zhiyi. Could she be interested in Qin Xuan? Was she trying to steal him away?

Qin Xuan, seeing her silent, nudged her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. What exactly did you do at her place?” Ruoxi turned to scrutinize him.

“Just had a coke. Oddly enough, she knew I liked it. She seemed to know me, but I don’t know her,” Qin Xuan voiced his confusion.

Ruoxi’s eyes widened. She dropped her breakfast and dashed to Lin’er’s room, clapping her awake.

“Still sleeping? You’re about to lose your home and you’re still asleep!”

Lin’er, rubbing her sore backside, was stunned. “What?”

Ruoxi repeated Qin Xuan’s account, and only then did Lin’er understand. She clenched her fists.

“But you have no proof,” Lin’er said, deflating after a moment’s thought.

“There is proof! She said she knows your brother!” Ruoxi was anxious.

“Even so, we don’t know the details. She might just be teasing my brother,” Lin’er mused. “Why don’t we ask her at lunch?”

“Fine, but before that, we need to interrogate your brother!” Ruoxi suggested.

Having already stolen two of Lin’er’s buns, Qin Xuan found himself tied to the sofa by the two girls.

“Come on, let’s help you jog your memory!” Ruoxi tapped his chest with a stick in hand.

“Hey, we all grew up together. If I knew her, wouldn’t you know too?” Qin Xuan protested helplessly.

“I do remember one summer when I went abroad. What about then?” Ruoxi asked.

“That’s right! I was four that year! I even cried when you left!” Lin’er recalled. That summer, her mother had forced her to practice dance. It left a deep impression.

“Huh? Really?” Qin Xuan was confused; he had no memory of this.

With Ruoxi and Lin’er prompting him, recollections began stirring in Qin Xuan’s mind. He vaguely remembered having a playmate that summer—but what was her name? Was it really Nan Zhiyi?

“Hmph! We’ll just ask her at lunch and find out!” Ruoxi declared, fuming.

If it was true, then Nan Zhiyi had come with a purpose! After more than ten years, could there really be such a strange coincidence?

As noon approached, Qin Xuan left the house with his two “ancestors,” both still visibly annoyed. Ruoxi had even changed outfits for the occasion, and so had Lin’er—neither willing to be outdone.

But when they met Nan Zhiyi at the door, both Ruoxi and Lin’er were stunned. Nan Zhiyi, usually so gentle and demure, was wearing a short skirt that showed off her long legs with abandon. Her top was more mature than usual. Qin Xuan took one look and quickly turned away, lest he get double-teamed.

In Qin Xuan’s eyes, there was no point comparing Ruoxi and Nan Zhiyi—they were simply different styles.

“Ruoxi, Lin’er, let’s go,” Nan Zhiyi called out as if nothing were amiss, completely ignoring Qin Xuan.

“Sure, let’s go, Zhiyi!” Ruoxi replied, deciding not to question her here.

Nan Zhiyi led them to a private restaurant tucked away in an alley, a place that usually required reservations. How she managed to get them in was anyone’s guess.

“Well, look who’s here!” The owner, a middle-aged man with a scar on his head that made him look a bit intimidating, greeted them as he dealt with a chicken outside. He was an easygoing sort, known to the regulars as Uncle Li.

“Uncle Li, I brought some friends for lunch. Don’t tell me there’s no room,” Nan Zhiyi said, clearly familiar.

“Zhiyi, for you, there’s always room! Come in, take a private room. Food will be up soon,” Uncle Li said with a warm smile as he ushered them inside.