After three dawns, Tang Coco had her ID and transfer papers to Ninghai University; Li Muyan moved like a well-oiled blade—swift and clean.
She wore an apron like a petal and moved through the kitchen like flowing water. After days of chewing the matter like bitter tea, she felt working outside wasn’t right yet. With Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan behind her like twin pillars, finding a job would be easy. Yet the stubborn steel in her heart refused help in that lane. Her face was a bright moon, drawing eyes like moths to a lantern. So she chose the steady hearth at home. She would do things for Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan and take the “nanny” role like a quiet guardian.
Back in the Shadow Division, missions had taught her under an international master chef. So home-cooked fare was a small dish—wind through grass for her.
Cleaning rooms and sweeping dust were simple as raking leaves. Ye Yiyi was surprised that Tang Coco could cook; it rose like fragrance she hadn’t expected. She didn’t want Coco to do it, but Coco’s will was a rock in the stream. So Ye Yiyi let the current run.
“All right, come eat; the steam’s still dancing.”
At noon, after laying out a whole table, Tang Coco washed her hands like rinsing clouds and called them over. The two women sat at the table, eyes roaming the spread like bees over blossoms.
“Coco, you’re amazing—like a magician of fire and spice.”
Ye Yiyi sat at the table, the dishes and heady aromas swirling like spring wind, and praise spilled from her like clear water.
“Mm, it’s solid—one day you’ll be a fine homemaker, steady as a hearth.”
Li Muyan added her approval like tapping a wine cup. But Coco felt a wry ripple under the surface when she heard “homemaker.” She wouldn’t marry anyone; the thought of doing that with a man raised goosebumps like cold rain. This was perfect—sharing a roof with two beauties like warm lanterns.
“You’re the homemaker, fatso—like a dumpling with attitude.”
Coco shot back, the words flying like a pebble in a pond. “Fatso” was a spur-of-the-moment tag she slapped on Li Muyan like a sticker.
“Hah? You called me fatso? Where exactly am I fat—point it out in daylight.”
“Yeah, you. Look at Yiyi—slim as a willow.”
Calling Li Muyan “fat” was pure mischief, a spark tossed to tease. Her figure was excellent, queenly like a tall cypress. By contrast, Ye Yiyi was slender, soft as a reed, stirring a protective urge like winter hands seeking a warmer coat.
But Li Muyan wasn’t amused; a storm rumbled behind her eyes.
“All right, you little imp—itching for trouble? Think I can’t handle you just because Yiyi’s here, like a cat under the sun?”
“Okay, okay, eat up; both of you pipe down, like wind settling after rain.”
Ye Yiyi could only watch these “frenemies” spar, like sparrows bickering on a branch.
“Just wait; don’t let yourself fall into my hands—my net closes like dusk.”
“Tch”—the sound snapped like a dry twig.
Coco met Li Muyan’s threat with pure disdain, cool as frost on glass. Li Muyan shot her a sideways glare like a knife flash and went back to eating.
“Coco, you ready for classes? The day after tomorrow opens like a gate.”
Yes, the day after tomorrow is August 28—Ninghai University’s first day, rising like a new sun.
“Mm, I’m set. Oh, I wanted to discuss something—like laying cards on the table.”
“What’s up? Just say it, let the arrow fly.”
“I want to wear makeup to school—paint a mask like a cloud veil.”
“Makeup? Sure. But Coco, you’re already stunning—fairest we’ve seen, like a lotus at dawn. You don’t need anything.”
“No, not that—you got me wrong. I want to look worse, rough as smudged charcoal…”
“Huh—what? Worse? Why would you drag the canvas through mud?”
“Are you stupid, or did the wind knock something loose?”
“Shut up and eat—keep your mouth busy like a mill.”
“Tch”—the tiny spark leapt like a flea.
…
Ye Yiyi looked at them speechless, eyes like still water.
“Honestly, I just don’t want too much trouble at school—no hornet swarm at my door.”
Coco explained, but the core was a different drum. She didn’t want boys’ confessions and pursuits piling up like autumn leaves. That would drive her crazy, mind buzzing like a hive.
The room fell quiet, calm as a pond. Li Muyan slid beside Ye Yiyi and murmured at her ear like soft rain. They weighed the matter, scales tipping slowly like dusk shadows. After a while, an answer landed like a feather:
“Okay. You’d stir a lot of trouble at first, sure as spring floods. We’ll agree, but there are two conditions—two knots to tie.”
Conditions? Coco’s heart twitched like a startled bird.
“What conditions? Put them on the table like stones.”
“One: we do your makeup—our hands like brushes.”
“Okay, no problem. And the second, like the other shoe?”
Coco agreed without a blink; she couldn’t paint her own face—her hand was all knives, not petals.
“Second: it’s only for a while. Once you’ve adapted, you return to your true face—moon back from cloud.”
“Uh…”—the sound hung like a stray reed in wind.
In her heart, she wanted to keep the mask on forever, like a wall of fog. But their eyes were firm as granite, leaving no room to bargain.
“All right…”—her sigh drifted like smoke.
“Mm, then it’s settled—seal it like wax on a letter.”
The two saw Coco agree and let words rest, quiet as falling snow. They ate her food with bright spirits, joy rising like steam.
On a lonely Pacific island, a terrorist headquarters had stood like a rotten tree. Now corpses lay everywhere, explosion wreckage strewn like jagged shells. Severed limbs littered the ground, turning the island into a hellscape like a blood-red sunset.
“D-demon… white demon…”
A mercenary, face smeared in blood like rust, croaked it. Then ice spikes pierced him—clean as winter spears. The one casting them stood in a white dress, hem pure as new snow, untouched by blood. Her flawless face held only frost, beauty like a blade. She was Gu Xin. Since that incident, the once-gentle princess had hardened into this—cold and merciless, a “White Demon” carved from ice.
“Cleanup complete. I’m coming to pick you up”—the voice slid in like cold wind.
The sound came through Gu Xin’s micro receiver, Meng Yuting’s tone cold as steel. She was piloting a helicopter, its rotors beating the air like thunder, angling toward the island.
Gu Xin walked to the shore, waves licking her boots like silver tongues, and watched the chopper draw near. A silhouette rose in her mind like a distant mountain.
“Where are you?” Her thought drifted like a paper lantern into night.
