Chapter 11 – It Doesn’t Seem Right for Me to Sleep in Your Room…

Awkward—just awkward, nothing but awkward.

Zhaocai, Jinbao, and the others had no idea when they left. Shizhen only realized that by the time she came back to her senses, it was just her and Xie-ge left in the room.

The once open door was now tightly shut, and even the air seemed thinner.

They each sat on opposite ends of the couch, neither looking at the other, with what felt like a galaxy of space between them.

The kid who usually loved dancing in the middle of the night was unusually quiet today, and the corgi downstairs, who barked non-stop during mealtimes, was also silent.

For the first time, Shizhen wished the room weren’t so quiet. Whether from upstairs or downstairs, any bit of noise would’ve been fine—at least then she’d have something to break the ice with.

But now, aside from the ticking clock, only the sound of their breathing remained.

Shizhen regretted it—why had she cried earlier? So embarrassing!

He was just an online friend—an online friend!

What was there to cry about upon meeting an online friend?!

She was doomed. She cried before even saying anything—what kind of first impression was that?

Would Xie-ge think she was overly emotional?

But… what did Xie-ge say to her just now?

She had been so caught up in her emotions that she completely blocked out everything around her.

Great, now she didn’t even know what Xie-ge had said. Would he think she was rude?

Nervously picking at the couch armrest, Shizhen turned her face away, not daring to look at him. Her whole body leaned toward the right side of the sofa.

She tried hard not to overthink, not to spiral, not to guess what Xie-ge might be thinking.

But… she couldn’t help it at all!

Also, why did this feel so much like a matchmaking meeting in a village between a boy and a girl of marriageable age?

One at the head of the bed, the other at the foot…

Shizhen awkwardly scratched at the ground with her finger. Xie Qian wasn’t doing much better.

He sat stiffly on the left side of the sofa, hands placed formally on his knees, staring blankly at the TV in front of him.

Even though the screen was pitch black and not even plugged in.

Xie Qian regretted it too!

Why did he have no sense of boundaries?

The girl cried, so let her cry—why did he rush over to comfort her?

And what was that “Ge is here now” line? How did he even say something so cringe?!

Even though he was seven years older than Shizhen, that didn’t sound like a big brother comforting a younger sister.

Besides, they were just online friends. And he’d even blocked her before.

Wouldn’t Shizhen think he was some kind of creep?

If this had happened in the past, he might have been arrested!

Silence. More silence. Still silence.

No one knew how much time had passed. Shizhen’s butt was starting to ache from sitting, and she finally couldn’t take it anymore and wanted to speak first.

She turned her head, only to see Xie-ge staring intently at the TV, totally engrossed—his eyes practically glazed over.

Shizhen glanced at the TV. It was pitch black—not even turned on.

She finally spoke up in a soft voice, “Xie-ge, what… what are you looking at? If you want to watch TV, I can turn it on for you.”

The crisp voice suddenly breaking the silence startled Xie Qian, but he quickly controlled his expression.

After a moment of composure, instead of answering her question directly, Xie Qian changed the subject and said, “I couldn’t reach you by phone and got a little worried, so I came over.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Xie Qian regretted it. He seriously wondered if something was wrong with his brain—why did everything he said come out so awkwardly?

Shizhen froze for a second, then remembered her broken phone and immediately explained, “I accidentally broke my phone earlier. I’m sorry, Xie-ge, for making you worry.”

She spoke sincerely, even with a touch of guilt and grievance in her tone.

After saying that, she actually felt less nervous. She got up and pulled a few warm patches from a drawer.

Tearing one open, she walked over to Xie Qian and said, “Xie-ge, it’s pretty cold in here. Stick on a few of these.”

Xie Qian didn’t stand on ceremony and accepted them readily, sticking them on his body with a small smile. “Thanks.”

Shizhen had a unique personality—she was strong when met with softness and even stronger when met with strength.

Her inner radar sensed that Xie-ge was someone easy to get along with, and she noticed how stiff he was acting. So, suddenly, she switched to her extrovert mode.

She sat down about a fist’s distance from Xie-ge and smiled. “Xie-ge, you still haven’t told me your name.”

Xie Qian paused slightly while warming his hands. “Xie Qian.”

“Qian, as in ‘modesty’.” He turned slightly toward her, his light-colored eyes shimmering. “My mom thought I was too arrogant and hoped to tone it down a bit.”

“Xie Qian,” Shizhen repeated his name softly, then giggled, “It sounds really nice. Simple but meaningful—has that kind of understated luxury with depth.”

To be honest, Xie Qian had received many compliments in his life—people said he was handsome, had a great business mind, generous, loyal—but no one had ever told him his name sounded nice.

He’d always thought a name was just a label, that the person gave meaning to the name, not the other way around.

Even the nicest name would be tainted if it belonged to someone terrible.

But hearing Shizhen say that, his heart stirred a little. He replied, “Shizhen sounds nice too.”

Xie Qian wasn’t good at giving compliments, so for him to say that was like a bride riding in a fancy wedding sedan for the first time.

Shizhen glanced outside. It was already very dark—the whole city had fallen into a calm silence.

It wasn’t a good time to make Xie Qian run around anymore. After all, he could be considered her savior. As the saying goes, “A favor as great as saving one’s life should be repaid like a gushing spring.”

Although Shizhen didn’t have the power of a gushing spring, she could at least sprinkle a little water in return.

She took a deep breath, gathered her courage, and said, “Xie-ge, just stay here tonight. It’s dark and cold outside, and it’s really too much trouble. Besides, you only came because of me—so let me do my part as a host.”

“Alright.”

Xie Qian didn’t refuse. Though finding a hotel was no trouble for him at all, with the way Shizhen phrased it, it would’ve seemed overly pretentious to keep declining.

He gave the room a quick once-over. The kitchen was open-plan, connecting directly to the living room, and the bathroom was right next to the only bedroom.

You could take in the entire layout at a glance.

Only one bedroom—that was a bit of a problem.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Xie Qian said, pointing toward the one small bedroom. “You stay in your room. I’ll keep watch at the door.”

“No way!” Shizhen immediately objected. “How could I let a guest sleep on the couch?”

“Little sis,” Xie Qian cleared his throat and coughed awkwardly, “It doesn’t seem right for me to sleep in your room, does it?”

Shizhen: …

Help. What had she just done?

Was she really inviting a grown, mature man to sleep in her bed?

Shizhen’s face flushed uncontrollably red. She forced a stiff smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ll go get you a blanket,” she said hastily, then practically fled into the small bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Xie Qian looked at the tightly closed door and couldn’t help but chuckle.

The little girl was kind of cute when she got shy.

After a day of chaos, the apartment was already a complete mess. The furniture was scattered all over in disarray, and playing cards were strewn about like flower petals.

Xie Qian stood up and put all the furniture back in place, then found a broom in the kitchen and gave the room a quick sweep.

Once everything was tidied up, the place looked much neater.

He returned the broom to where he found it and, as he passed by the counter, happened to notice the phone sitting on it.

Just like Shizhen had said, it was completely shattered.

For some reason, the sight made him think of how they first got to know each other—through a post she made about documenting her life.

A post about challenging herself to survive a whole month on just a hundred yuan.

Xie Qian didn’t have much concept of an average person’s daily life. The Xie family had been prominent for decades, and the Lan family was a well-known aristocratic family in northeast China.

The poorest he had ever been was probably at age twelve, when Lan Zezhong decided to toughen him up by cutting off his living allowance for a few months, hoping he would learn to earn money with his own hands.

But not even a few days in, Lan Zezhong began to feel sorry for him. The boy was still growing, and trying to save money, he was barely eating half a meal a day. His stomach was constantly growling from hunger.

Seeing this, Lan Zezhong immediately sent over a ton of nutritional supplements, afraid that starving would damage the boy’s health. Malnutrition would be even worse.

What Lan Zezhong didn’t know was that it was all Xie Qian’s own doing. He had invested all the money from his bank account—yes, the long string of digits—into various ventures. At the time, he didn’t have the sharp instincts he had now, and he ended up losing everything.

Afraid of being beaten, Xie Qian never told Lan Zezhong. So when Lan Zezhong happened to cut off his allowance around that time, Xie Qian could only accept his fate and go hungry for a few days.

That was the only minor setback in over twenty smooth-sailing years for Master Xie.

But now, as he looked around the run-down little apartment and smelled the old, musty scent wafting through the cracks in the walls…

And saw the shattered phone, clearly well-used and aged, with all the signs of long-term wear…

Xie Qian’s heart unexpectedly ached a little.

He suddenly thought of his little niece, Yueyue.

She was only seven years old and already had the latest phone model.

Xie Qian didn’t know why he was even comparing these two completely unrelated people. His brain just wasn’t under his control anymore.

“Xie-ge, I laid the blanket out for you on the sofa.”

Before he could think further, Shizhen’s voice called out.

Xie Qian snapped back to reality and walked into the living room.

There, on the couch, was a fluffy and adorable blanket—with two long bunny ears nearly drooping down to the floor.

This blanket… definitely matched the aesthetic of someone Shizhen’s age.

Standing off to the side, Shizhen was already toe-curling from embarrassment.

She loved cute things, and nearly all her bedding followed this theme.

She had dug through her closet for ages before finding this one that was somewhat “presentable.” The rest were even more absurdly cute.

She had never imagined that one day a man would be staying over in her home. She’d been caught completely off guard.

Was this what came from never having dated before?

“It’s very cute,” Xie Qian said softly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Shizhen gave a shy smile, her eyes darting around nervously. When they landed on what Xie Qian was holding, she froze.

If she wasn’t mistaken, wasn’t that… her phone?

Xie Qian noticed her gaze, and when he glanced down, he saw he was indeed holding something in his hand.

Upon closer inspection—wasn’t it the broken phone he’d just seen earlier?

How had he ended up picking it up without even realizing?

His mind went blank for a second. Then, once he recovered, he stammered out an explanation: “I… I was just thinking… maybe I could help you get it repaired?”

“The damage looks pretty serious. A regular repair shop might not be able to fix it.”

So that’s what it was. Shizhen nodded in understanding.

Xie-ge was such a genuinely good person. He even thought about helping her fix her phone.

“Then I’ll leave it to you, Xie-ge!”