Ruan Yu woke up on the right side of the bed.

It was already light outside, but even though her eyes were open, she didn’t quite feel awake. Her whole body felt weightless, her memory still lingering on last night’s kiss — and on what had followed after that kiss ended: Xu Huaisong’s heartbeat, crackling and thundering in her ear.

She had stayed in his arms for a long time, talking with him for a long time, reminiscing about high school, until at some point she had drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

The bedroom curtains — the double-layered blackout ones — had been left undrawn. The semi-transparent gauze panels let in the faint glow of the early morning, filling the entire room with an unreal, dreamlike quality. Ruan Yu lay there blinking for quite a while before she came back to herself, then slowly turned her head and saw the person on the left side of the bed.

Xu Huaisong was leaning against the soft pillow with his eyes closed, seemingly asleep. He hadn’t slipped under her blanket — he was still fully dressed in his dress shirt and suit trousers, sitting on top of the covers, keeping a considerate distance from her.

Ruan Yu remembered that last night she had asked him, out of curiosity, how he had first noticed her back then.

Xu Huaisong had said the answer was nothing impressive — not the kind of story she was imagining — and only told her the truth after she pressed him for it.

It turned out the whole thing had started in the boys’ dormitory during military training, when his lower-bunk roommate had said: “Our homeroom teacher’s daughter is pretty cute — anyone want to take on the ‘turn teacher into father-in-law’ challenge?”

There had been no heart-pounding, dramatic encounter. Just a careless, offhand joke tossed around among teenage boys.

Unremarkable, really.

But just like this ordinary morning with the sun rising as it always did — ordinary, yet beautiful.

Ruan Yu watched Xu Huaisong for a moment, then carefully crept out from under the covers, intending to ease him into a flat, more comfortable position. The moment her hand touched his shoulder, however, he suddenly opened his eyes.

She flinched and snatched her hand back. “You startled me, waking up like that…”

Xu Huaisong looked at her through sleep-hazed eyes and smiled, gently tilting her chin up. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get you to lie down properly. I need to get up.”

It was indeed time for her to get up, but Xu Huaisong’s sleep schedule had been erratic lately — he had been sitting up for most of the night, only starting to feel drowsy as dawn broke, and right now was exactly when he most wanted to sleep.

He murmured an acknowledgment. “Then I’ll sleep a little longer.” And with that, he lay down.

Ruan Yu climbed out of bed, drew the bedroom curtains closed for him, then went out to wash up.

But Xu Huaisong didn’t get to sleep for long. Just as he was sinking into a deeper sleep, a round of phone vibrations jolted him awake.

He reached for the nightstand with his eyes still closed, fumbling for a long while before his hand closed around the phone. He answered with his eyes half-shut, offering a low “Hello.”

The other end of the line went completely silent. After a three-count pause, a strange voice came through: “Hm? Did I dial the wrong number?”

Xu Huaisong’s eyes snapped open. He shot upright in bed and pulled the phone away to look at the screen.

The contact name displayed read: Dad.

But it wasn’t his father.

This was Ruan Yu’s phone.

It wasn’t that Ruan Chengru had dialed the wrong number — Xu Huaisong had answered the wrong phone.

A questioning voice came through the earpiece: “I didn’t dial wrong, did I…”

Xu Huaisong drew a quiet breath. He hadn’t expected this: after all that careful preparation for the Dragon Boat Festival — all that effort made for nothing — fate had decided he would face the “turn teacher into father-in-law” challenge at this completely unprepared moment.

He hadn’t even managed to pay a proper visit yet, and here he was, making an ambiguous first impression at an ambiguous hour of the morning. Definitely not an ideal omen.

Xu Huaisong hesitated between pressing forward and retreating, then ultimately decided to own it. He brought the phone back to his ear, cleared his throat quietly, and said: “Teacher, you didn’t dial the wrong number. It’s Huaisong — please hold on a moment.”

The line went dead silent for even longer this time. After a beat, the faint sounds of hushed rustling came through, as though Ruan Chengru and Qu Lan were convening some kind of emergency meeting.

Xu Huaisong walked out of the room as gingerly as if he were carrying a live grenade, and slid the kitchen door open.

Ruan Yu was inside frying an egg. She looked back and was momentarily surprised. “Why are you up? Weren’t you going to sleep in…”

Xu Huaisong immediately cut her off with a gesture, held up the phone for her to see, and mouthed silently: Your dad.

Ruan Yu’s eyes went wide with alarm, and she mouthed back: Why did you answer?

Xu Huaisong: Accident.

She snapped the stove off, rushed over, and snatched the phone from him. “Hello, Dad.”

The sound of the emergency meeting on the other end ceased immediately. Ruan Chengru cleared his throat, as though nothing had happened at all, and said, “Oh, Yuyu. Where are you right now?”

Ruan Yu looked up at the ceiling and resigned herself to her fate. “At home…”

“Your own home?”

“Yes…”

Ruan Chengru offered a contemplative “Oh.”

An awkward silence fell.

Ruan Yu jabbed Xu Huaisong hard in the shoulder with her index finger, then heard Qu Lan take the phone on the other end: “Yuyu, the reason your dad called is — he wanted to ask how Zhou Jun is doing.”

“He’s being held in detention in Hang Shi. I don’t know the full details either.” Ruan Yu glanced at Xu Huaisong — since her parents had likely already figured out that the two of them had spent the night together, she decided she might as well commit fully. “Why don’t I have Huaisong explain it to you?”

“Oh, alright.”

Ruan Yu pursed her lips and handed the phone to Xu Huaisong.

Xu Huaisong cleared his throat and replied to Qu Lan: “Teacher Qu, a colleague at our firm has already taken on the case. The application for a visit was filed the day before yesterday — we should be able to meet with him and understand the situation by noon today at the latest.”

“He can’t be released for now, can he?”

“That’s right. The authorities are still investigating. Based on his circumstances, he wouldn’t qualify for release on bail either, so he’ll remain in custody until the trial concludes and a verdict is reached.”

“How long until the trial?”

“That’s hard to say. Even in the most optimistic scenario, it would take four or five months.”

A quiet sigh came through the line. “That boy — I never could believe he would do something like that…”

Xu Huaisong continued: “Please don’t worry too much. I’ll keep a close eye on this. Going forward, as the investigation develops, colleagues from our firm may come to visit you and Teacher Ruan to understand the details of what happened over the past few days.”

After they finished talking and hung up, Xu Huaisong was just about to hand the phone back to Ruan Yu when his palm vibrated again.

He looked down and saw the incoming call contact read: Li Shican.

Xu Huaisong gritted his teeth.

If only those two calls could have come in the reverse order — that would have been perfect.

Ruan Yu was a little surprised to see a call from Li Shican too. “He doesn’t usually call me unless something’s come up,” she said, reaching out to pull the phone from Xu Huaisong’s palm.

Xu Huaisong clamped his hand shut and didn’t budge, his expression cool, mounting a silent resistance.

Ruan Yu was caught between laughter and exasperation. “What is wrong with you — fine, I’ll put it on speaker!”

Only then did he let go.

Ruan Yu answered the call, and Li Shican’s voice came through the speaker: “Senior, something urgent just came up.”

“What happened?”

“I might have been photographed.” Li Shican’s voice carried an apologetic edge. “On Dragon Boat Festival — after you left with the police, I walked Xu Huaisong’s younger sister back to the hotel.”

Ruan Yu and Xu Huaisong both went still at the same time.

“Where in the hotel were you photographed?” Ruan Yu’s composure cracked. “What’s the situation right now? Has the media already released the photos?”

“Not yet. But it’s almost certainly me. Check Weibo, and let Xu Huaisong know as well.”

Ruan Yu glanced at Xu Huaisong, whose brow was furrowed deeply, and said: “Understood.”

“Don’t worry — it’s a completely baseless story, and they can’t turn it into something it isn’t. I’ve already sent someone to the hotel to pull surveillance footage as evidence, and a statement is being drafted. We’ll respond to this and clear it up as quickly as possible. The thing is, right now I don’t know exactly what the photos captured, and I’m worried that if someone later digs into Xu Huaishi’s identity, it could affect her at school. So if it’s convenient, bring Xu Huaisong along — let’s meet up shortly.”

Ruan Yu agreed and hung up the call, then turned to look at Xu Huaisong, whose expression had darkened considerably. “The joys of the entertainment industry,” she said, and turned to head to the bedroom to get her phone.

She followed him and heard him make two calls: one to Tao Rong, telling her to confiscate Xu Huaishi’s phone and keep her away from the news for the time being; one to the firm, telling Liu Mao to draft documentation in case it was needed.

Once he had finished giving instructions, he turned to look at Ruan Yu. “I’ll go wash up. You get changed.”

Ruan Yu went quiet for a moment, then said softly, looking down: “I’m sorry…”

Xu Huaisong reached out and brushed her fringe aside with his thumb. “Things have their order of priority. Under those circumstances, what was wrong with going with the police to handle the case? Could you really have brought Huaishi along?”

Ruan Yu murmured a quiet acknowledgment. She got herself ready, then left with him, catching up on the Weibo situation during the drive.

Xu Huaisong was driving while she updated him from the passenger seat: “It’s a rookie paparazzo. He copied the style of the old-school professionals — set up a scheduled post. Last night at nine he put up a teaser saying he had a story to break at nine this morning. Then at eight-fifty, he posted another update as a warm-up.”

“What did it say?”

“That a certain male celebrity has really been keeping busy lately — there was that off-circle romantic entanglement drama just recently, and now he’s…”

Ruan Yu trailed off, because the wording felt too crude to repeat. The post had said he’d “been spotted at a hotel with a college girl.”

The teaser last night had been too vague for Li Shican’s team to pinpoint the target until he himself suspected it was about him — by which point there were only ten minutes until nine o’clock, leaving him no choice but to activate emergency measures.

Eight fifty-nine.

Ruan Yu had been hoping Li Shican’s team could intercept the story, but the time frame was simply too short. One minute later, a wave of photographs appeared on her feed regardless.

Four photos in total: two showed Li Shican and Xu Huaishi standing in a corner of the hotel lobby waiting for the elevator, and two more showed the pair in the hotel’s underground parking garage.

Xu Huaisong glanced at the photos, then said: “Connect me to Li Shican.”

Ruan Yu did so immediately.

Xu Huaisong spoke into his earpiece, cutting straight to the point: “It’s Xu Huaisong. How soon will the surveillance footage be ready?”

“Within half an hour.”

“Then have your studio team repost the paparazzo’s Weibo first. Caption it: Pursuant to Article 246, Paragraph 1 of the Criminal Law — once reposts exceed five hundred, we’ll see you in court.“

Xu Huaisong finished speaking, removed his earpiece, and pressed down on the accelerator.

Author’s note: Today is the Xu Huaisong Protects His Little Sister edition. (＃＾.＾＃)