Tang Coco came downstairs, opened the door, and found Li Muyan at the threshold, her red dress a splash of pomegranate bloom.

“Well—look at you, answering the door,” Li said, her voice tinkling like a wind bell.

Seeing Tang Coco at the door startled Li Muyan, surprise rippling like a pebble in a still pond.

“Tch,” Tang flicked, her eyes sliding over with a frost-glint, then she turned inward like a swift fish slipping past reeds.

Annoyance pricked like nettles; if not for this girl, the afternoon mess wouldn’t have piled up like fallen leaves.

Li didn’t bite; watching that retreating back, her mouth lifted, a crescent-hook of a smile.

She slung her bag onto the sofa; the thud rolled like a soft drum. “Where’s Yiyi?”

“Went to change,” Tang said, her tone cool as a splash of water.

“Hmm? What did you two do?” Li closed in like a fox nosing the edge of a henhouse. “Don’t tell me, in that blink I was gone, you did something behind my back.”

“Yeah. I ‘ate’ your best friend—so what?” Tang’s voice was careless, a flat blade on the table.

Mischief sparked like flint; she slipped into that old male nonchalance like a familiar coat.

“Really?” Li’s lashes dipped, her gaze hooking like a fishing line as she leaned in, breath warm as tea steam.

They stared for ten heartbeats, eyes locked like crossed swords.

“Mm… you really are pretty,” she murmured, the words dropping like petals.

“Mm… ah… huh?” The sound wobbled; heat rushed up like a struck match.

Her pretty face flared red, a sudden hibiscus by a summer pond.

“Pff—hahaha!” Li’s laughter clicked like a string of beads. “Saying you ‘ate’ Yiyi? Looks to me you’re the one who’d get eaten.”

That smug smile waved like a little victory flag; Tang bristled like a kitten puffing up to fight.

“What are you two chatting about? Sounds fun.” Ye Yiyi drifted down from the stairs, her white dress clear as moonlight, ponytail swaying like a willow strand, white slippers whispering.

“Yiyi, you okay?” Li reached for her hand, concern passing like a cloud-shadow.

“Huh? What could happen to me?” Yiyi’s tone was light, a breeze over grass.

“Oh, good. Someone just said she ‘ate’ you—scared me half to death,” Li said, a hand to her chest like a sparrow fluttering.

She piled on the act, worry painted like stage powder; Tang felt heat rise, a coal under ash.

“Are you picking on Coco again?” Yiyi’s eyes curved warm as lantern light; in one glance she took the scene and stood by Tang.

“Ay… Yiyi doesn’t like me anymore,” Li pouted, wilting like a plucked flower, as if someone had stolen her treasure.

“Alright, Coco, go take a shower,” Yiyi said, her voice soft as warm rice steam. “I set out a dress in your room. Change into that; don’t wear that dusty set.”

Tang looked down; the old clothes clung like shed bark, all wrong in this bright house.

“Yeah, okay,” she answered, the words falling like a leaf.

She headed upstairs. Li moved to follow, a red flash like a restless fox, but Yiyi caught her sleeve and tugged her back to the kitchen, steady as an anchor.

In the bathroom, cool air skimmed her skin like springwater. Tang slipped off her jacket, then the loose white tee, fabric sighing like a cloud.

Since this outfit had come with her “rebirth,” there was no underwear; her upper body met the air, bare as new snow.

A quiver of shock and curiosity rose, a tide under a new moon. She stared at her chest, dazed as if seeing twin moons in a quiet lake.

She shook the thoughts off like raindrops, stripped her pants, and slid into the tub, hiding underwater like a startled fish.

The water blurred nothing. She glanced down at the lines of her body, smooth as carved jade, and her hand lifted as if drawn by silk thread.

Fingertips met skin; a strange current leapt, fireflies under the ribs. She shivered, face blooming red, then snatched her hand back like it had burned.

She rinsed in a rush, water drumming like brief rain, and rose to leave. A cold draft brushed the doorway like night breeze, and she froze.

Right—she was naked, bare as a peeled lychee. She looked around, quick as a sparrow, and spotted a white towel hanging like a flag.

She took it down and tried to wrap it the way Gu Xin did in her memory, neat as a ribboned bow. It slipped, again and again, like silk refusing a knot.

Out of options, she gripped the towel with one hand, a lifeline in her fist, and stepped out like a deer peeking from brush.

By the bed, she saw the clothes laid out: a blue-and-white dress, pleated hem like ripples, dotted with flowers like scattered stars.

It was lovely, a spring sky on fabric, but the thought of wearing it sat heavy, a stone in her chest.

She hesitated and hesitated, thoughts circling like swallows. Downstairs, two women cooked, steam curling like morning mist and knife rhythm pattering like rain.

“Huh? Why isn’t Coco down yet? Did something happen?” Yiyi’s worry fluttered like a moth to flame.

“Relax. What can happen at home?” Li waved it off, light as a fan. “I’ll go check.”

She set the chopsticks down with a click, then padded upstairs, steps soft as a cat.

At the landing she saw Coco’s door ajar, the gap like a cut in paper. She pushed it open; the hinge sighed like a reed gate.

“Aah!” The cry burst like a popped bubble.

“Uh…” Li’s breath hitched, caught like a thread on a thorn.

The sudden entrance startled Tang; she dropped onto the bed like a rabbit into grass, clutching the towel tight as if it were her last raft.