Ever since Lin Youxi started learning cooking from Xiang Xiaoxia, she’d become obsessed with perfecting meals for Xia Yuan and Mei Fang. While the latter two occasionally helped with prep, Youxi handled most of the cooking—often waking at dawn to prepare breakfast.

Yet today, when Youxi awoke, only Yuan clung to her, sleeping soundly.

Where’s Ah Fang?

Dressing quickly, she followed the sound of sizzling to the kitchen, where Mei Fang stood flipping eggs. Sneaking up behind him, she whispered in his ear:

“What’s the occasion? Since when do you wake before me?”

“Just… thought you deserved a break.”

Youxi looped an arm through his. “I enjoy this. Besides, I’d worry about you burning down the kitchen.”

“It’s just eggs and bacon—”

“Just?” Youxi scoffed, demonstrating her technique one-handed. “Eggs need a five-minute water soak to prevent oil splatter—”

Mei Fang barely registered her lesson, too captivated by her morning radiance—the softness only home brought out.

“You’re not listening.” Youxi pinched his cheek.

“Sorry. Got lost in your face.”

“After seeing it daily for years? Smooth talker.”

“Not smooth—just honest.” He booped her nose. “This reminds me of your first ‘cooking’ attempt.”

“The frozen dumplings?” Youxi smiled. “Fourth grade, right? After we visited your grandma at the hospital… and my mom’s grave in the rain.”

“You remember everything?”

“You stole half my heart that day.” She rested her head against his chest. “Never gave it back.”

“Takes one to know one.”

---

At breakfast, a sleep-deprived Yuan nibbled toast between yawns.

“Shouldn’t have binged videos last night,” Mei Fang chided.

“But that Pokémon parody channel was hilarious! Some fruit-themed username—”

“Old Tomato?”

“Yes! You know him?”

Mei Fang hid his surprise—this gaming content creator had been huge in his past life, but years later.

As they geeked out, Youxi rapped her chopsticks. “Eat properly.”

“Ah Fang~ Feed me!” Yuan puckered up like a baby bird.

Mid-bite, Mei Fang caught Youxi watching them fondly—until he offered her a bite too. Soon he was juggling dual feedings while Yuan giggled:

“We’re like your kids!”

“By day,” Youxi purred. “At night—”

“Moving on!” Mei Fang cleared the plates.

---

48 hours post-“breakup,” Mei Fang and Yuan’s continued closeness baffled classmates. Most assumed it was a PR stunt for Yuan’s career—exactly the narrative Mei Fang wanted to avoid. The longer “FangYuan” shippers dominated, the harder his eventual shift to “FangXi” would be.

Yuan voiced this concern during their hallway rendezvous:

“Ah Fang… Isn’t clinging to me post-breakup weird? When will you go public with Youxi?”

“Maybe in a month? We’ll need your visible ‘blessing’ to sell it.”

“A whole month? We moved the timeline for you—”

Xia Yuan stuck out her tongue sheepishly after Mei Fang’s head-tap. “Sorry… I got greedy. You should spend more time with Youxi now—it’ll make your eventual relationship seem natural.”

“You’re really okay with this?” Mei Fang studied her. “No fear of being ‘abandoned’?”

“T-that was just acting coy!” Yuan huffed. “I’m not that fragile.”

“Better not be.”

After parting ways, Mei Fang returned to class—only to find an uncharacteristically gloomy Xiang Bingbing slumped at her desk.

“Contemplating lunch options again?” he teased.

“Don’t reduce me to just a stomach!” Bingbing grumbled. “…Though I was thinking about that too.”

During lecture, she passed him a note:

[My basketball buddy confessed! Said he’d regret it if he waited.]

[…And you don’t feel the same?]

[We’re just friends! How could he—]

[Just reject him gently.]

[I panicked! Might’ve been too harsh… How do YOU reject people?]

[I’ve… never gotten confessed to? Except by Yuan Yuan.]

Bingbing’s eyes widened. She spent the period drafting a letter, then solemnly presented it after class.

“A… love letter?”

“Now you’ve officially received one.”

“But this is just like Yuan’s prank—”

“It’s not a prank.” Bingbing clasped his hands, suddenly earnest. “I’ve liked you since freshman year. You always took care of me… And even though you’re shorter than my ideal…”

Mei Fang’s brain short-circuited—until he noticed Bingbing’s twitching lips.

“…This is a reenactment, isn’t it?”

“Don’t ruin it!” She playfully pummeled him. “See? Even you froze up!”

Bingbing then recounted her disastrous rejection—slapping the boy so hard he cried. “I was nervous!”

“Understandable.” Mei Fang chuckled. “But someone as cute as you won’t struggle to find—”

“University first! Then I’ll qualify to be your security chief!” She flexed proudly.

As they laughed, Bingbing added, “He’s only 160cm though. A nimble point guard.”

“Yikes—”

Their shared giggle fit drew stares.

(Internally crying: Short kings really do have it rough in dating…)