"Xiaoran, is your bed soft or not?" Liu Wentian suddenly asked, as if possessed.
"Huh?" Sun Xiaoran was stunned for a moment, not quite understanding what he meant. Her bed was actually quite simple. There was a straw mat on the wooden board and a thin quilt over the mat; it wasn't soft at all.
Honestly, she replied, "It's... it's okay. Not very soft, but not hard either."
"Is that so?" Liu Wentian nodded, stood up, and picked up his own quilt.
"Liu, Liu Wentian, what are you trying to do?" Sun Xiaoran, feeling embarrassed and tense, asked as her body shrank.
"Cough!!"
Liu Wentian cleared his throat with a cough, pretending to be benign, and said, "Nothing much, really. Isn't your bed not very soft? Let me help you by laying my quilt on your board. Won't that make it softer?"
Sun Xiaoran hurriedly shook her head, showing concern, and said, "No way. If you do that, then you'll have no quilt. What if you catch a cold?"
