Morning slid in like a warm ribbon of light, spilling across the room. On the big bed, a breathtaking beauty sprawled like a starfish, all grace turned to careless wind. One arm flung wide, one leg straight as a reed, the other curled around the quilt like a vine. She slept with the wild freedom of a summer field. Tang Coco drifted deep, her body heavy like earth after rain. Last night, Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan had run her ragged till almost midnight, then finally let the tide recede.

The door eased open like a blade of dawn, and Ye Yiyi stepped in wearing sportswear, fresh as morning air. She took in Coco’s unruly sprawl with a wry smile, a leaf catching dew and sighing. Too casual, she thought, the words a quiet ripple. She tugged the quilt back like gathering a sail, then leaned in to wake her.

“Coco, Coco, the sun’s toasting your belly—time to get up,” she coaxed, voice warm as tea.

Coco floated in a dream, sweet as honey on the tongue. She was with Gu Xin, laughter like bells drifting through mist. “Little darling, where are you running?” she murmured, the whisper a silk thread.

Her hand shot out on reflex, a hook in the stream, and she yanked Ye Yiyi down onto the bed. Yiyi startled, a bird cut from the sky. Their faces stopped with only a breath of air between them, two petals almost touching. The bump jarred Coco awake, shock flaring like a spark on dry grass. Heat rushed up; impulse tugged like a rogue tide—she almost leaned in to steal a kiss. Sense cooled her like shade under bamboo, and she held herself still.

“Uh… Yiyi, why are you here? And could you get off me first?” she asked, voice small as a plum blossom.

Ye Yiyi snapped back to herself, cheeks tinged like dawn clouds. “I—I came to get you up for breakfast,” she said, words neat as folded linen. “Just now, you…”

“Oh, I was dreaming,” Coco cut in, a pebble breaking the ripple. “Pretend nothing happened. I’m getting up.”

Yiyi read the dodge, a fan closing with a soft click, and let it pass like a cloud. “Mm. I’ll go get Muyan,” she said, tone smooth as a paved path.

“Okay,” Coco breathed, her glance sinking, a momentary dusk.

Once Yiyi slipped out, Coco’s face fell like petals in wind. “What a pity… I’m actually a girl,” she muttered, a bitter smile thinning like smoke.

Ye Yiyi crossed to Li Muyan’s room, her steps quick as swallows. Li had decided last night to “keep an eye” on Yiyi and Coco, and to move into Yiyi’s villa—convenient as a neighbor across the lane. The door opened, and there lay Li Muyan in a thin blue nightdress, soft as lake water, hugging a giant gray teddy bear like a mountain of fluff. She slept soundly, breath even as tide.

“Little lass, where are you running… hehe,” Li murmured, dream-sweet and crooked, a smile flickering like fireflies.

Yiyi stared, amused and helpless, a sigh threading through her chest. “Why are these two cut from the same cloth?” she thought, the joke dry as autumn leaves.

She reached out and shook Li’s shoulder, a gentle quake through snow. “Muyan, up. Come on. Don’t forget our plan today,” she urged, a bell calling morning. They’d agreed last night to take Tang Coco to buy clothes, a small ritual like new tea.

“Mmm… don’t shake… let me sleep a bit,” Li groaned, sinking like a stone.

Yiyi grabbed the gray bear, swift as a hawk snatching prey, and pulled it from Li’s arms. Without her plush mountain, Li’s sleep ebbed, her eyes clearing like water. She sat up and stretched, spine flowing like a willow, chest lifting as if catching sun.

“Yiyi, you’re at it again,” Li teased, a cat flicking its tail. “Itching for trouble, aren’t you?”

“Hey, you’re just greedy for sleep,” Yiyi shot back, a fan snapping open. “Look at the time. Are we buying clothes or not?”

Li tilted her head, mischief dancing like light on ripples. “Yiyi, I see you’re awfully good to her,” she said, a needle hiding in velvet. “Got something going on?”

“Stop overthinking,” Yiyi huffed, a door closing. “Nothing’s going on. Breakfast’s ready. Eat it or don’t.” She turned on her heel, her exit crisp as a cut bamboo stalk.

“Wait for me!” Li called, a kite tugging its string, and scrambled to change, quick as sparks.

At the dining table, Tang Coco tasted Ye Yiyi’s breakfast—bread with jam and milk, simple as morning fog. She ate little, habit tight as a knot; the old Coco almost never touched breakfast. Jam’s sweetness stirred old days like a stirred pond. Her mind drifted to the Shadow Division—faces cut by wind and steel, comrades who had bled and laughed with her, who had walked through fire at her side. Where were they now? The thought pressed down, a gray sky settling. Sadness glazed her eyes, a thin rain.

Ye Yiyi saw it, sorrow pooling like ink, and hurried to change the tune, a flute replacing drum. “Coco, come shop with us later,” she said, the invite bright as lantern light. “We’ll get you a few dresses.”

Coco blinked, surprise lifting like a bird. “We’re going right away?” she asked, words catching like thread. “I feel my old clothes…”

“What?” Li Muyan cut in, her tone sharp as a hairpin. “You planning to keep wearing that men’s outfit? Don’t tell me you’ve got a cross-dressing kink.”

“You…” Coco’s glare flashed, a blade with frost, while Li wore smugness like rouge.

After breakfast, the two pulled Coco along like twin currents. They piled into a white four-seat BMW sports car, sleek as a snow leopard, and headed for the downtown mall, city shining like steel and glass. Before departure, they’d wrestled through a hundred little tussles, sparring like swallows in spring. In the end, they let Coco wear a black mask, shadow neat as ink. Even with the mask, the lines under her skirt drew the eye, curves smooth as sculpted jade. On the street, the three became a focal flame. One was pure breeze, one a crimson bloom, one a ribbon of mist. Together, they formed a bright moving scene, a painted scroll unrolling.

They stepped into an international boutique, gloss thick as lacquer. Prices sat high as mountain peaks—one dress cost tens of thousands, finer ones climbed higher like rare orchids. The moment they entered, a clerk in a tailored office uniform approached, smile polished like porcelain.

“Welcome to our store. How can I help you?” she said, voice clear as a bell.

“Mm. Find me a few good-looking dresses,” Li Muyan replied, a fan-point precise. “For her.” She tipped her chin at Tang Coco, the gesture a light brushstroke.

“Coco, take the mask off,” Ye Yiyi suggested, tone soft as gauze. “It’s fine inside.”

Coco nodded and lifted the mask away, movement gentle as peeling silk. Her face shone out, a moon over water, and the whole store fell still—silence like snow.

“Wow, sis, you’re so pretty,” a little girl piped up, her voice a bright bird. Coco looked over; the child was about ten, impish as a fox, round-cheeked like a ripe peach. Coco crouched and patted her head, touch warm as sun on wicker.

The clerk snapped back to herself, a string plucked taut. She hurried to Coco’s side, respect blooming like chrysanthemum. “Miss, please wait in the fitting room,” she said, bow light as a bowing reed. “We just got several new pieces. They suit your aura perfectly. I’ll bring them right away.”

Coco rose and headed for the fitting room, steps quiet as falling petals. Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan settled on the lounge sofa, sinking into cushions like clouds, waiting with the patience of tea steeping.

Before long, a voice drifted over, familiar as a tune on the wind. “Isn’t that Yiyi and Miss Li? What a coincidence?”