By the next morning, Jiang Yue learned two important facts.
One: the bigger room didn't make him feel bigger. It just gave his resentment more square meters to echo in.
Two: the universe had a sense of humor, and it was cruel.
He woke up to a muffled conversation in the hallway, the kind that said adults were trying to solve a "simple" problem and were about to make it everyone else's problem instead.
Jiang Yue lay on his back for a moment, staring at the ceiling of his new room. The ceiling was still the same ceiling as yesterday, which felt like a personal insult. It could've at least cracked in solidarity.
He rolled over and checked his phone.
7:03 a.m.
A school day.
A normal day, supposedly. As if yesterday hadn't been an entire wedding. As if his home hadn't been repackaged overnight like a product with a new label.
He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. It was a mess. His shirt was twisted. His brain felt like it had been filled with cotton.
From the hallway, his mother's voice drifted in, gentle but strained.
"Nianzhan, you take the bathroom first. Yueyue sleeps later."
Jiang Yue froze at the nickname. His chest tightened, annoyed and… something else. Protective. Like if she kept saying it, she could keep him the same.
Wei Nianzhan's voice answered, calm. "He has school too."
His stepfather added, "We should just set a schedule. This house only has one bathroom. We can't have chaos every morning."
Jiang Yue closed his eyes.
Schedule.
Of course.
He stood up, shoved on a hoodie and sweatpants, and walked out of his room.
The hallway was brighter than it had any right to be. His mother was standing there in a sweater, hair still slightly messy from sleep. Wei Chengyu stood beside her holding a mug like it was an authority symbol. Wei Nianzhan stood opposite, fully dressed for school already, shirt crisp, tie straight. He looked like he'd been awake for hours and had spent the extra time winning at life.
The bathroom door was open, lights on, smelling like fresh toothpaste. The sight of it felt like bait.
Jiang Yue stopped in the middle of the hallway and said, "You're discussing my bathroom habits without me? So touching."
His mother turned, surprised. "Yueyue, you're up."
Jiang Yue's mouth twitched. "Hard to sleep when the house is holding a meeting."
Wei Chengyu cleared his throat. "We were just talking about mornings. This is a shared space now."
Jiang Yue leaned against the wall lazily. "Shared," he repeated. "Right. Like a disease."
His mother shot him a look. "Don't start."
Jiang Yue held up his hands. "I'm not starting. I'm participating."
Wei Nianzhan's gaze flicked to him, steady and unreadable, then away again. Like Jiang Yue was an annoying notification he could mute if he tried hard enough.
That alone was enough to make Jiang Yue want to cause problems.
Wei Chengyu said, "We're setting a bathroom schedule. Nianzhan wakes up early, you wake up later. We thought he should go first, then you."
Jiang Yue raised an eyebrow. "And what if I decide to wake up early too."
Wei Chengyu looked at him, expression flat. "Why would you."
Jiang Yue smiled. "Spite."
His mother sighed, rubbing her temple like she'd already aged a year since the wedding. "Yueyue, please. We just want mornings to go smoothly."
Go smoothly.
Jiang Yue wanted to ask her when his life had ever gone smoothly. He wanted to ask her why she thought adding another person, another set of rules, another father, another son, would make anything smoother.
But her eyes looked tired and hopeful at the same time, and Jiang Yue swallowed the words.
He glanced at Wei Nianzhan. "So what time does Mr. Perfect need the bathroom."
Wei answered before his father could. "Seven to seven-fifteen."
Jiang Yue stared at him. "You timed it."
Wei's face remained calm. "It's not difficult."
Jiang Yue laughed once, sharp. "Of course. Fifteen minutes. Efficient. Probably brushes his teeth in exactly two minutes like the dentists recommend."
Wei's gaze lifted slightly. "Three."
Jiang Yue blinked, then realized Wei was answering seriously.
He burst out laughing, genuinely this time. "You're insane."
Wei's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Not amusement. Not annoyance either. Something like… a warning that he was not playing.
Wei Chengyu said, "Then Jiang Yue can use it seven-fifteen to seven-thirty."
Jiang Yue's laugh died. "I need longer than fifteen minutes."
Wei Chengyu's eyebrow lifted. "For what."
"For existing," Jiang Yue wanted to say.
Instead he said, "For not rushing like a robot."
Wei Nianzhan spoke again, voice even. "If you wake up earlier, you can take longer."
Jiang Yue's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me what to do."
Wei met his gaze. "Then don't complain about the consequences."
The hallway air tightened.
Jiang Yue felt that familiar flare of anger, automatic as breathing. He took a half-step forward, like his body wanted to fight even when his brain hadn't decided.
His mother stepped between them lightly, like she could physically separate tension.
"Okay," she said, too bright. "Schedule. It's decided. Nianzhan first, then Yueyue. No arguments."
Jiang Yue looked at her face, then at the slight tremble in her hand as she adjusted her sweater. He swallowed.
"Fine," he said. "Whatever."
He pushed past them and headed toward the kitchen, pretending his chest didn't feel tight.
Behind him, Wei went into the bathroom and shut the door with a soft click, the sound clean and controlled.
Jiang Yue poured himself water and drank it, staring at nothing.
This was what living together was going to be like, he realized.
Not one dramatic explosion.
A thousand small invasions.
Fifteen-minute slices of air.
When Wei came out of the bathroom exactly at 7:15, towel over his shoulder, hair not even slightly out of place, Jiang Yue was waiting like a bored predator.
Wei didn't look at him. He simply stepped aside.
Jiang Yue walked past him into the bathroom and shut the door a little harder than necessary.
He brushed his teeth slowly, deliberately. He washed his face slowly. He took his time like it was a protest.
On the other side of the door, he heard Wei's voice in the hallway, calm.
"You'll be late."
Jiang Yue spat into the sink. "I'm always late. It's my brand."
No response.
Of course. Wei would never waste energy on arguing with someone who didn't matter.
Jiang Yue hated that thought so much it made his stomach twist.
When he finally walked out at 7:33, his mother was already putting on her shoes. Wei Chengyu stood by the door holding keys. Wei Nianzhan stood with his backpack on, expression unreadable.
"Jiang Yue," his stepfather said, voice controlled. "We leave at 7:35."
Jiang Yue looked at him. "Then leave."
Silence.
His mother's face tightened. "Yueyue…"
Wei Chengyu's jaw flexed. "Get your shoes."
Jiang Yue smiled, sharp and sweet. "Sure."
He bent down slowly to put on his shoes, taking his time, because he could. Because the only power he had in this new family was the power to be difficult.
When he straightened, Wei Nianzhan's gaze flicked to him.
Not angry.
Not cold.
Just… steady.
Jiang Yue felt it like pressure.
They left the apartment together.
The elevator ride was quiet in the way silence before school always was, except now it had a new layer: the awareness that they were not just classmates in the same building, but a family walking out of one door.
Outside, the morning air was cold enough to make Jiang Yue's nose sting. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
Wei Chengyu walked ahead with Jiang Yue's mother, talking about work schedules and picking up groceries later. Their voices were low, normal, like they'd been doing this for years.
Jiang Yue walked behind them with Wei Nianzhan.
Side by side.
Too close.
He could smell Wei's clean shampoo. It irritated him.
At the corner of the street, a familiar voice shouted, "Jiang Yue!"
Xu Zhe jogged over, waving like an idiot. He was wearing his school uniform shirt half untucked, hair messy, face bright.
Then he saw Wei Nianzhan.
Xu Zhe slowed, eyes widening slightly, then grinned like someone had handed him a new toy.
"Oh," Xu Zhe said. "So this is him."
Jiang Yue groaned. "Don't."
Xu Zhe stuck out his hand toward Wei. "Hi! I'm Xu Zhe. Jiang Yue's best friend."
Wei looked at the hand for half a second, then shook it, polite. "Wei Nianzhan."
Xu Zhe's grin widened. "Wow. Your handshake is very… responsible."
Wei released his hand. "Thank you."
Xu Zhe turned to Jiang Yue, eyes glittering. "He's even more serious than you said."
Jiang Yue hissed, "Stop talking."
Xu Zhe leaned closer to Jiang Yue and stage-whispered, "He's kind of hot in a scary way."
Jiang Yue almost tripped.
Wei's gaze flicked briefly toward them. If he heard, he gave no sign.
Jiang Yue glared at Xu Zhe. "You're disgusting."
Xu Zhe laughed. "I'm honest."
They walked toward school together. The streets grew crowded with students in uniforms, backpacks bouncing, voices loud.
As they neared the school gate, something changed.
People looked.
Not the normal glance-you-give-anyone look. The lingering kind. The curious kind.
Whispers followed them like birds.
Jiang Yue's shoulders tightened.
He heard fragments.
"Is that Jiang Yue?"
"Who's that with him?"
"Wait, is that Wei Nianzhan? The top student?"
"They're walking together… what?"
Xu Zhe, oblivious or pretending to be, waved at classmates. "Morning!"
Jiang Yue wanted to disappear.
Wei Nianzhan didn't react at all. He walked like he was alone, like the whispers were irrelevant background noise.
That calmness made Jiang Yue want to grab him and shake him.
At the gate, the discipline teacher stood with a clipboard like a judge. Students filed in, nervous.
Jiang Yue slowed automatically. He was late enough to be targeted.
The teacher's eyes narrowed at him, ready to pounce.
Then Wei Nianzhan stepped slightly ahead and spoke, voice calm and respectful. "Teacher Li, good morning."
Teacher Li's expression softened immediately. "Ah, Wei Nianzhan. Good morning. Hurry in."
Wei nodded and walked through.
Jiang Yue stared at the teacher in disbelief. He'd just watched a magic trick.
Teacher Li's eyes snapped back to Jiang Yue. "Jiang Yue. Late again?"
Jiang Yue opened his mouth.
Wei's voice came again, quiet but clear. "He was helping at home this morning."
Jiang Yue's head whipped toward Wei.
Wei didn't look at him. His gaze stayed on the teacher, expression neutral.
Teacher Li hesitated. His eyes flicked between them. Rumor processing happened in real time.
Finally, the teacher grunted. "Don't make it a habit."
Jiang Yue walked into the school gate like he'd just been smuggled past security.
Xu Zhe leaned in and whispered, delighted, "He just saved your life."
Jiang Yue hissed, "Shut up."
But his chest felt… weird.
Because Wei didn't have to do that.
Wei could've let him get punished. Wei could've watched him get lectured and enjoyed it in silence.
Instead, Wei had lied for him.
Jiang Yue didn't know what to do with that.
He followed Wei into the campus, past bulletin boards and red slogans about discipline and success. The school looked the same as always—strict, gray, crowded.
But the air felt different.
Because now, everyone wasn't just watching Jiang Yue as the troublemaker.
They were watching Jiang Yue as Wei Nianzhan's new brother.
And that was going to be a problem.
As they reached the main building, Xu Zhe peeled off toward his class, still grinning like he'd just witnessed a live drama series.
Jiang Yue and Wei stopped at the staircase.
Their classrooms were on the same floor.
Of course they were.
Jiang Yue turned to Wei, unable to hold it in.
"Why did you do that," he demanded.
Wei looked at him, expression calm. "Do what."
"Lie for me," Jiang Yue snapped. "At the gate."
Wei's gaze held his for a moment, steady, almost cold.
Then Wei said, "It was faster than listening to Teacher Li lecture you."
Jiang Yue blinked.
That answer was… annoyingly reasonable. And also insulting, in a way.
He scoffed. "So you did it for yourself."
Wei's mouth barely moved. "Yes."
Jiang Yue stared at him, searching for something beneath the words.
There was nothing obvious.
Wei adjusted the strap of his backpack. "You should go to class," he said.
Jiang Yue's jaw tightened. "Don't give me orders."
Wei's gaze flicked to him again. "Then don't waste time arguing."
And with that, Wei turned and walked away, disappearing into his classroom like he was stepping into a perfectly organized life.
Jiang Yue stood on the staircase landing, pulse beating too loudly.
He hated him.
He hated the way Wei could be helpful without looking like he cared.
He hated the way adults respected Wei automatically.
He hated the way the school whispers were already shifting.
And he especially hated the new house rule that no one had said out loud yet, but everyone had already decided:
From now on, Jiang Yue's life would be compared to Wei Nianzhan's.
Every day.
Every mistake.
Every breath.
Jiang Yue exhaled slowly and headed for his own classroom, suit jacket long gone, uniform rumpled, eyes sharp.
Fine.
If this was a war, then the bathroom schedule was only the beginning.