Chapter 2

Actually, I could hardly concentrate on what they were saying. I was pacing my room in a state of bliss.

Admiring every inch of the devastation their search had left behind.

At the start of this semester, my deskmate Tian Xin had complained that her parents had removed the lock from her bedroom door so they could come in whenever they liked and see what she was doing.

“I have no privacy at all. It makes me so mad!” She’d been miserable for ages, the corners of her mouth turned down.

I comforted her, secretly envious.

Her parents cared so much about her.

I knew she’d hit me if I said that out loud. And if it really happened to me, I might find it upsetting too.

But the envy was real.

My room had always been completely, utterly mine. Those two had never so much as set foot inside.

Whatever noises I made in there, however late I kept the light on, they didn’t care in the slightest.

I’d tried leaving my door wide open on purpose. Within two minutes, Duan Fei had come over and shut it, muttering, “Can’t stand the sound of pages turning.”

Well, now I’d finally had a taste of parental concern.

I went out, glowing with happiness and a little shy. “Did you go through my things?”

They exchanged a look.

Duan Fei scratched his head, cleared his throat twice, and pointed at Lai Xue.

Smack! She slapped his hand.

“It was his idea!”

“Okay,” I said. “You don’t have to keep giving each other the credit. Next time, just don’t mess up the loose-leaf pages. I’d sorted those out but hadn’t put them in my binder yet.”

Lai Xue waved both hands. “There won’t be a next time. No next time.”

“Don’t say that!” I panicked. “All right, forget the loose-leaf pages. Rummage through whatever you like. Is that okay?”

She stared, then touched her own forehead before touching mine.

“What are you smiling about?” Duan Fei was alarmed by the sight of me biting my lip to hold it in.

“So this is a mother’s love,” I murmured.

Lai Xue’s hand sprang away as though she’d been burned. “What nonsense are you talking?”

She turned away, took a couple of deep breaths, and turned back. “Go change. We’re going out.”

“What for? Groceries? We’ve got enough at home to last me two days.” I thought it over, then brightened. “Are you two eating here too? Then we do need more. Let me think what I should make…”

They hardly ever ate at home. Even when they did, they’d just dig through the fridge and grab a few bites of my leftovers.

But since I made myself very plain food, concerned only with balancing the three main macronutrients rather than how it tasted, they wouldn’t eat it unless they were starving.

At the mention of my cooking, Duan Fei automatically objected. “Your taste is so weird. I’d rather have instant noodles than—”

“Instant noodles aren’t nutritious!” I interrupted.

“Enough. Stop arguing. We’re not going to eat. You”—she pointed at me, then at Duan Fei—“and you. Get ready in three minutes. We’ve got a tough job ahead of us today. Anyone who doesn’t cooperate can’t blame me when I lose my temper in public.”