Professor Xie, isn't this a case of forcing customers to buy products that don't match the

"With you by my side, perhaps... things would be better."

Shang Song unconsciously tightened his arms around the bedding, feeling as if a honey jar had exploded in his heart, overflowing with sweetness.

Xie Jing is working hard.

Extremely hard-working.

He was working hard to overcome the barrier that prevented them from freely contacting each other.

He suddenly grinned, a silly smile on his face: "...Well, it's settled then. If I move around while I'm asleep, or if my snoring disturbs you, just kick me out of bed. Don't be shy."

"Mm." Xie Jing smiled slightly. "I won't kick you."

Shang Song tossed the bedding back into the wardrobe, clapped his hands, and feigned nonchalance: "Okay! Why don't you read for a while? Or rest? I... I'm going to take a shower!"

He almost stumbled out, rushing towards his suitcase, nearly tripping at the doorway.

He rummaged through his suitcase, pulled out his pajamas, rushed to the bathroom, and slammed the door shut.

He leaned against the cold door, clutching his pajamas, his heart pounding and his blood boiling.

We slept together.

Xie Jing said, "Let's sleep together."

His mind was buzzing, his face was burning hot, and his thoughts kept shifting between Xie Jing's deep gaze and his own clumsy excuses from earlier.

He threw his pajamas on the rack, turned on the tap, and splashed cold water on his face several times before he could barely calm himself down.

The bathing process became exceptionally long.

He washed himself from head to toe, inside and out, three times, even brushing his teeth twice. He then grimaced in the mirror for a long time to check himself, making sure he was clean enough to be steamed before turning off the water.

He slowly dried himself off, changed into his pajamas, haphazardly buttoned up two buttons, and cheered himself on in the mirror.

After dawdling for almost an hour, Shang Song finally sneakily opened the bathroom door.

He turned off the living room light, and there was no light coming from under the door of his parents' room.

He tiptoed back to his room like a thief, took a deep breath, and turned the doorknob.

Only his newly bought reading lamp was on in the room.

Xie Jing was already leaning against the headboard, holding an academic journal that appeared out of nowhere.

Hearing the door open, Xie Jing looked up.

Shang Song was suddenly at a loss again, standing at the door, not knowing whether to go in or go back. "Um... I'm done washing."

"Hmm," Xie Jing closed the book and placed it on the bedside table. Then, his gaze swept over him, and he raised his hand to pat the inside of the wall next to him. "You sleep here."

Shang Song said "Oh," closed the door behind him, and walked over clumsily. He climbed onto the bed from the foot of the bed, lifted a corner of the blanket at the foot of the bed, and burrowed into the blanket. He crawled up the blanket like a magpie, and finally poked his head out from under the blanket at the head of the bed.

He quickly adjusted his posture, crossed his hands on his lower abdomen, and solemnly bid farewell to the deceased.

The mattress is indeed very comfortable, neither too soft nor too firm, and provides excellent support.

The blankets and pillows were soft and fluffy, smelling of sunshine and new fabric.

However, Shang Song felt that he would probably not be able to sleep all night.

"The lights are off." Xie Jing's voice rang out in the silence.

"Okay, okay!" Shang Song replied immediately.

With a click, the bedside lamp went out.

The room was plunged into darkness instantly, with only the faint light from the appliances remaining.

Shang Song felt Xie Jing lie down a fist's distance away from him, adjust his posture, and then his breathing gradually became more steady and shallow.

He froze, afraid to move, even his breathing became soft and slow, for fear of disturbing Xie Jing's rest.

But his heart was pounding so hard it was almost deafening.

Just as he was about to faint from nervousness, he heard an extremely faint sound beside him.

Xie Jing seemed to... turn over and face him.

Shang Song's breath hitched.

In the darkness, he felt Xie Jing's gaze, which seemed to fall on his face.

"Shang Song," Xie Jing said in a very low voice.

"Hmm?" Shang Song responded immediately.

Xie Jing was silent for a few seconds before asking, "Do you snore?"

"...Huh?" Shang Song was completely taken aback by Xie Jing's question. He paused for a moment before answering softly, "I... I don't think so, right? I don't know if I'll wake up while I'm asleep, but I don't think anyone ever mentioned that when I lived in the dorms before?"

"Hmm," Xie Jing responded, then asked, "Do you know how to steal the blanket?"

Shang Song: "..."

He remembered the excuses he had just made up, and his cheeks flushed red. "N-I don't know...maybe I fell asleep and couldn't control myself?"

"Okay. It's alright," Xie Jing replied again, then said, "Go to sleep."

After he finished speaking, he fell silent, and his breathing became even and long again, as if he was really preparing to fall asleep.

Shang Song suddenly realized that Xie Jing's two seemingly nonsensical words were a way of confirming his sleeping habits in advance, and then telling him that he could accept them.

He suddenly stopped being so stiff.

His pounding heart seemed to settle comfortably on a cotton cushion. He blinked in the darkness and whispered, "Well... goodnight."

Xie Jing responded in a low, breathy voice, "Goodnight."

Listening to the steady breathing of the person beside him and feeling the warmth coming from the other side of the blankets, Shang Song's body finally relaxed.

He closed his eyes and began to count silently in his mind.

When he counted to 1001 sheep, Shang Song finally couldn't hold on any longer and drifted off to sleep.

Almost at the same moment he fell asleep, Xie Jing keenly opened his eyes.

By the faint blue light from the air conditioner display screen, he could barely make out the outline of the person beside him.

That always radiant face, when asleep, is gentle, even childlike.

The crow's feathers hung down densely, its lips were slightly parted, and its breathing was shallow and long.

Shang Song was sleeping soundly; clearly, the excessive tension and excitement he had just experienced had exhausted him.

Xie Jing's gaze remained fixed on Shang Song, who was still asleep, scrutinizing him carefully over and over again.

He'll be thirty after the New Year.

Twenty years have passed since that bloody incident when I was nine years old.

Trust and warmth became the knives that killed him.

In order to survive, he voluntarily became a solitary prisoner.

He was used to anticipating any approach as a potential attack, and even more used to the physical aversion and psychological rejection that any close contact brought him.

He refused to let anyone get close to him.

No one could get close to him.

Besides Shang Song.

This impetuous, passionate young man, like a vibrant flame, clumsily and persistently broke into S University's cold world with his incredibly bright eyes and a bunch of flawed classical Chinese questions he had gathered from who-knows-where.

At first, he just thought it was the foolish recklessness of a young person who would shake his head, laugh, and leave him after hitting a wall in his world.

But when Shang Song was genuinely aggrieved and confused by his aloofness, he found that he couldn't ignore it and even felt helpless about it.

Shang Song was an accident.

It was the only, unavoidable surprise in his cold and silent world.

Xie Jing's fingertips twitched very slightly.

He wanted to touch Shang Song's face, to touch her soft hair, and to feel the warmth beneath her fair skin.

But in the end, he just watched quietly.

After a long while, he closed his eyes, seemingly preparing to fall asleep.

As my consciousness began to blur, I suddenly felt a wriggling motion beside me.

He suddenly opened his eyes, and after a sharp glint in them, he realized that there was no danger.

It's Shang Song... stealing the blanket.

It was Shang Song who, in his sleep, unconsciously swept away most of the blanket.

At this moment, she was curled up in a contented ball, her back to him, still fast asleep.