The apartment door opened with a soft click.
Xu Jin stepped aside immediately, one hand on the doorframe, the other gesturing politely inward like a doorman at a luxury hotel.
"Professor, please enter."
Liang Chen shot him a brief look.
"…You don't need to do that."
Xu Jin smiled anyway, eyes bright with the quiet pride of a man who had just survived a major relationship crisis using only cake and sincerity.
Liang Chen stepped inside.
The warm scent of home greeted him first—knitted wool, faint incense, and cat fur.
Then—
"Ah!"
Grandma stood from her chair, knitting needles paused mid-air. Her eyes widened the moment she saw the cake boxes in Liang Chen's hands.
"My heavens," she said. "Professor Liang! Why are you carrying so many cakes?"
At the sound of Chen's voice and the sight of food, Yun Hu came charging like a tiny white storm. The cat circled Liang Chen's legs, tail high, meowing with authority as if inspecting new offerings.
Liang Chen crouched slightly, placing the bags gently on the table.
"Just… bakery promotions," he said calmly. "I thought you might like them."
Grandma clasped her hands together.
"What a thoughtful child!"
Xu Jin coughed lightly.
He did not correct the statement.
Yun Hu had already located the cat treat bag and was pawing at it like a miner striking gold.
Liang Chen crouched slightly, letting the cat inspect the new treasure.
"You're getting heavier," he murmured, scratching Yun Hu's chin. "Have you grown a little?"
The cat purred, accepting praise as deserved.
Meanwhile, Xu Jin carried the cake boxes to the dining table with surprising care, as if transporting sacred relics.
Liang Chen joined him and began unwrapping the boxes neatly, folding the paper edges precisely. Strawberry cake slices appeared first — soft cream, red fruit, delicate sponge. Then the rich chocolate cake, glossy and decadent.
Grandma had already sat down at the table, hands folded, eyes shining like a child in front of a festival stall.
Then, slowly, she turned her head toward Xu Jin.
"How did you know," she asked, voice syrup-sweet and suspicious, "that cake is the correct method to reconcile with Professor Liang?"
Xu Jin blinked.
"…I never told you that," Grandma added.
Xu Jin straightened his posture immediately. Confidence reinstalled.
"Intuition," he said smugly.
Across the table, Liang Chen's hand paused while placing plates.
"…Huh?" he said quietly, eyes narrowing just a little.
Xu Jin turned stiff as a soldier caught off guard.
"Nothing, sir," he said quickly, raising a small salute with an awkward smile.
Grandma chuckled under her breath.
Yun Hu successfully opened the cat treat bag and began eating noisily, crumbs scattering proudly across the floor.
Liang Chen watched, fondness softening his expression.
"You're spoiled," he told the cat. "But you've earned it."
Xu Jin sat beside them, watching the scene like a man observing a peaceful village he had helped protect.
No slammed doors.
No cold distance.
No tension.
Just cake. Cat. Grandma. Professor.
A fragile but precious domestic victory.
Then—
Grandma quietly slid her phone from her knitting basket.
Angle adjusted.
Lighting perfect.
Subjects unaware.
Click.
A photo captured: Liang Chen arranging cake slices, Xu Jin handing plates beside him, Yun Hu in the center like a tiny emperor overseeing his court.
Grandma lowered her phone, covering her mouth to hide a giggle.
No one noticed.
They sat.
Plates placed. Forks ready.
Liang Chen took a bite of strawberry cake. Cream touched his lips lightly. Jam sweetness softened his eyes.
Xu Jin noticed.
Stored carefully in mental memory.
Grandma reached immediately toward the chocolate cake.
"Let me taste this one too."
Liang Chen placed his hand over the plate at once.
"No," he said calmly. "You'll get diabetes."
Grandma gasped as if gravely insulted.
"So you want to monopolize all the good things for yourself?" she accused. "Give me your strawberry slice then. You go buy another later."
"That is financially irresponsible," Liang Chen replied, cheeks faintly warm.
Xu Jin watched the exchange, deeply entertained but wisely staying out of crossfire.
Grandma leaned closer.
"You young people always think you know better. At my age, cake is medicine."
Liang Chen opened his mouth, then closed it again. Arguing further was futile.
He exhaled — the sigh of a man surrendering a battlefield he never wanted.
Then, with precise fairness, he cut the chocolate cake into three equal slices.
Grandma accepted hers triumphantly.
Xu Jin received his with quiet gratitude.
Liang Chen kept his strawberry slice.
Balance achieved.
As they ate, small sounds filled the room — forks tapping plates, Yun Hu crunching treats, Grandma humming in victory.
Xu Jin took a bite of chocolate cake.
Sweet. Rich. Perfect.
But sweeter was the sight of Liang Chen seated here again — calm, present, belonging — the distance between them gone like mist after sunrise.
Xu Jin smiled inwardly.
Cakes are the path to a person's heart.
He carved the lesson firmly into stone in his mind.
Across the table, Grandma watched the two young men with quiet satisfaction, phone hidden safely away with her new treasured photo.
Outside, the evening sky deepened into soft blue.
Inside, warmth, sugar, soft laughter, and restored peace filled the apartment.
For now.