After the wind cleared the table like a storm stripping clouds, Mu Qingcheng hadn’t eaten this freely in ages. Tang Coco watched, doubt sprouting like weeds—was her cooking a drug, that addictive? Before, her food drew praise like warm sunlight, but no one ever lost control like a burst dam.

Mu Qingcheng let out a soft, satisfied burp, then dabbed her lips like wiping dew from a petal.

“Mm. Good. You can work here.”

Her approval landed like a seal on wet ink, and Tang Coco’s tension melted like frost under morning light.

“Li Muyan told me you’re still in school, and you shouldn’t show up in public,” Mu said, sinking into the sofa like a swan to a lake. “So on Sundays, I’ll launch a new feature—signature dishes. You’ll be the chef.”

“Alright. No problem.”

It was the best kind of deal, money flowing like a quiet stream without drawing moths to the flame.

“As for pay, we won’t fix a number,” Mu said, voice smooth as silk. “I’ll wire it every month like a steady river. Don’t worry, I won’t shortchange you.”

Tang Coco nodded, her trust dropping anchor like a stone—she knew Li Muyan, and wages wouldn’t vanish like mist.

“Okay, President Mu. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head back.”

She slid on her sunglasses like a veil and turned to leave.

“What’s the rush?”

Mu’s voice came from behind, soft and sweet as satin, and Tang Coco turned back with brows lifted like a puzzled fawn.

“Mm? Do you need something else, President Mu?”

She had to admit Mu Qingcheng was beautiful—bright enough to stir men like spring wine—and even more dazzling than Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan. Yet a fog hung around her like mist over a deep pool, and Coco’s seasoned eyes couldn’t pierce it; Mu felt full of secrets, tangled like vines.

Mu heard that and feigned a pout, her tone playful as a cat batting yarn. “Oh? Why so distant? I’m friends with Li Muyan and the others, and you’re their good friend, so you’re my friend too. Come on, call me big sister.”

“…”

Tang Coco took the first half in stride, thinking Mu was easygoing like a light breeze. The end swerved—why jump straight to “big sister”?

“Mu… Sis.”

She couldn’t say “big sister,” and forced out “Sis Mu,” the word thin as a reed in a stream.

Mu Qingcheng studied her for a moment, then rose and drifted closer like a fox on silent snow. In a blink she wrapped Coco up, carried her momentum to the sofa, and sat down with Coco in her arms.

“Ah? Sis Mu, what are you doing?”

The sudden ambush stunned Coco like a sparrow hit by a gust. She tried to stand, but Mu held her tight from behind, arms locked like vines. Coco ended up perched on Mu’s jade-smooth thighs.

“Who told you to disobey?” Mu’s breath brushed Coco’s ear like warm wind. “I said call me big sister, and you didn’t.”

Warmth kissed her skin, and Coco’s body tightened like a drawn bowstring.

“President Mu, let me go. This isn’t good.”

She struggled, found no escape like a fish in a net, and put on anger—hoping the flare would startle her like thunder.

“Oh? Angry?” Mu laughed, airy as bells. “No one’s dared be angry in front of me for a long time.”

She whispered at Coco’s ear, on purpose, sending little gusts that tickled like feathers. Coco’s heart itched, and now she understood why anyone melts when someone whispers there—the spot is too sensitive, like a live wire.

“Hey, you… let go!”

“Call me sister.”

“Let go! I said it!”

“Call me sister.”

“Believe I’ll quit the job?”

“Call me sister.”

“I… Sis… sister…”

Coco launched a counterattack, but Mu was a mountain, unmoved. In the end, overwhelmed like a tide, Coco gave in.

“Mm. See? Should’ve done that earlier.”

Mu finally relaxed her arms, satisfaction bright as a crescent smile.

“I’ll grab some wine to celebrate my new pretty sister. We’ll toast.”

Watching Mu’s retreating back, Coco’s anger and helplessness tangled like storm clouds. She felt weak—too weak—like a candle in wind. She stood, thinking to slip out while Mu was away, but before she reached two meters from the door, Mu’s voice floated over like a silk ribbon.

“Don’t even think about running. It’s an electronic lock. I locked it.”

“…”

Coco sank back onto the sofa like a fallen leaf. Mu returned carrying two glasses and a bottle of premium red, the glass glinting like starlight. She handed Coco a glass and poured.

“Come on, to our sisterhood. Cheers.”

Mu’s delight sparkled like lanterns, while Coco’s face stayed stormy. Still, she raised her glass, and they sipped the wine slow as twilight.

“Coco, night will fall soon like a curtain. Sleep here tonight with big sister.”

“Impossible.”

“…”

“Alright then, I’ll fetch you a gift,” Mu said, smile sly as a crescent moon. “Wait for me. No wandering.”

She headed for the door. Coco sat on the sofa, ire smoldering like charcoal, eyes tracking Mu. Her neck ached like a stiff branch, so she leaned back to loosen it. The moment she let go, sleep swept over her like a soft tide. In a short while, Mu returned, sat beside her, and stroked Coco’s cheek with a tender hand like brushing a peach blossom. Her lips curved.

“Hehe.”

Night in Meng Xiaoxiao’s home fell like ink. She sprawled on the big bed, bored as a cat in rain. Monday through Friday were fine—she could play with Tang Coco. On weekends, they parted, and being alone felt dull, like stale air in a room.

Her phone rang, crisp as a bell. Meng Xiaoxiao grabbed it, glanced at the number, and answered.

“Mommy, what made you think to call me?”

It was her mother.

“Good girl, how’s it over there?” her mother asked, worry floating like cloud. “You had to go study in Ninghai on your own and make us fret.”

“It’s fine,” Xiaoxiao said, voice light as a breeze. “I’m doing well. You’re busy, and in Yanjing I’d only add trouble like a dripping faucet.”

“Don’t say that,” her mother chided, warm as a quilt. “How could Mom ever think you’re trouble? Anyway, if you’re alright, I’m relieved. And there’s one more thing that will ease my mind about your safety.”

“Mm? What thing? Don’t tell me you’re setting me up with a boyfriend. I’m not doing that.”

“Silly girl,” her mother laughed, a gentle knock like rain. “I won’t meddle in your love life.”

“Hehe. Mommy’s the best.”

“Hmph, you little rascal.” Her tone softened like tea. “Xiaoxiao, do you remember your sister?”

“Sister? Of course,” Xiaoxiao said, memories lifting like fireflies. “She played with me when I was little. Why bring her up out of the blue?”

“Your sister is coming back.”

“What!”

Shock hit Xiaoxiao like lightning, and she shot upright on the bed. Her sister had been gone for more than ten years, a long winter.

“Mommy, is that true?”

“Mm,” her mother replied, steady as stone. “She reached out the day before yesterday. She’ll be back in a few days.”

“Really? That’s great,” Xiaoxiao said, joy blooming like spring. “I can finally see her again. But why did she leave our home back then?”

“That… I shouldn’t say,” her mother murmured, words drifting like fog. “Ask your sister. After we meet, I’ll send her to you to look after you.”

“Mm… alright. I’ll ask her.”

“Good girl,” Mom said, warmth rising like morning sun. “By the way, do you remember your sister’s name?”

“Uh… not clearly,” Xiaoxiao admitted, scratching her head like a puzzled sparrow. “It’s been too long. I only ever called her sister.”

“Ai, you,” her mother sighed, half-laughing like wind in bamboo. “You only know how to play. If your sister hears that, she’ll be heartbroken.”

“Hehe. It’s just been too long.”

“Alright. Remember, your sister’s name is…”

“Meng Yuting.”