While Tang Coco was bored in class, Ye Yiyi stayed home with no lectures, a pale-ivory dress as light as mist.

Her long legs rested in the air like two smooth reeds; she snacked and watched cartoons, the screen flickering like a pond.

Oddly, Li Muyan was nowhere, his absence a shadow slipping behind the curtains.

Suddenly, the phone on the coffee table chimed like a dragonfly wing; she set down the snack and picked it up.

She glanced at the screen like a quick flash; it was Ye Zhenghao calling.

“Dad, what’s up?” she said, her voice a small bell in a quiet room.

“Yiyi, are you at school?” His words came steady, like a slow drum.

“No,” she breathed, cool as rain over stone.

“Oh. How’ve you been lately?” His concern rustled like leaves in wind.

“Pretty good. Is something up?” Her tone sharpened like a blade touched to ice.

“Come home for the National Day holiday; your mom and I miss you,” his plea warm as a lamplight.

“Dad, is there something else? This sudden invite feels like a storm at the door.”

“Ah, you always see through me; I’ll be straight,” he sighed, his breath a tired cloud.

“Last week your mom went to a banquet and met an old classmate, a face from old photos.”

“She liked that classmate’s son and wants to set you up.”

“What!” Her protest flared like a spark in dry grass. “How can she do that?” Her anger bit like frost on glass.

Ye Yiyi shot upright from the couch like a startled cat, and snacks scattered like beads.

“Yiyi, don’t rush; hear me out,” he coaxed, his tone a steady hand on water.

“I know your mom—she lives for face; she already promised to arrange a meeting, so please come home.”

“Dad, you know why I moved out; why not stop her?” Her grievance thudded like rain on a closed door.

“Your mom’s stubborn as a stone ox; here’s the plan,” he said, a bridge offered over a river.

“Come back for National Day; I’ll help you, and we’ll face it together.”

With things as they were, his compromise stood like a bent reed in wind.

“Fine. We’ll talk. I’ll see if I have time,” she replied, her anger cooling like embers under ash.

“Okay. We’ll connect on National Day; stay safe,” his goodbye soft as dusk.

“Mm. Got it. That’s all,” she said, her words clipped like a snipped thread.

Ye Yiyi hung up and tossed the phone onto the sofa, a small stone on velvet.

She dropped back onto the cushion with a heavy thump, mood dim as a shaded lane.

She killed the TV, the room falling still like a pond at night, and sighed while gathering the spilled snacks like fallen leaves.

At the Imperial Walk Club, Ningxin was still wrangling the newly arrived headquarters team, her focus tight as a drawn bow.

“Group Leader Ning, we’re here mainly for one thing,” came Lie Long’s voice, rough as gravel, in her underground office.

“Is it the American Abnormals who appeared suddenly?” she asked, suspicion cutting like a thin knife.

“Didn’t we already report that?” Her brows knit, a stormline gathering.

“No, that’s only one side,” he answered, the words steady as marching boots.

“Headquarters isn’t concerned about those Americans; the main issue is this,” his tone darkened like a brewing cloud.

“Recently, our Anomaly Power detector flagged an energy alert over Ninghai City above SS-level, a siren like lightning under cloth.”

“You know other countries keep moles in Huaguo, shadows hiding in the reeds; many groups sensed that alarm.”

“Maybe those Americans came exactly for it,” he concluded, a nail driven into wood.

“Oh, that,” Ningxin said, her gaze calm as a lake yet deep as night.

“We’ve noted it and ramped patrols, nets cast wide like dawn fishermen; but so far, no target.”

She kept Tang Coco’s matter under wraps, silence stitched tight like silk after midnight.

Last night she’d held a secret meeting, sealing lips so what happened at the shore stayed buried like a shell.

“Right... we’re here to help you,” he said, a hand offered like a rope across a gorge.

“Headquarters believes anyone above SS-level in Anomaly Power may have unusual ways to hide, a fox ghosting through bamboo.”

“Fine. Then let’s work well together,” Ningxin replied, her smile thin as steel.

They shook hands, touch brief like two blades kissing before battle.

“Group Leader Ning, can we review the archive room info?” his request slid in like a paper knife.

“Of course. When do we start?” she asked, time ticking like beads.

“No time like now; you lead, I’ll bring the team,” he said, urgency bright as flint.

“Good. Let’s go,” she answered, their steps flowing down the corridor like a stream.

At Ninghai University, the morning classes finally ended, relief drifting like smoke over desks.

“Wow—this protagonist is way too miserable,” Meng Xiaoxiao’s voice rang out like sparrows exploding from a tree.

After class, her shout rolled across the room like a wave; she’d watched K-dramas all morning, eyes glazed like sugar.

“You idiot... keep it down,” Tang Coco said, her look flat as a winter field.

“Ke-ke, Xiao-xiao, you two free at noon?” a male voice cut in, smooth as oil.

They turned, eyes sharp as pins; it was Lu Kai, smile pasted on like paper.

“Who said you could call me that?” both girls snapped, a double arrow loosed together.

Lu Kai’s waving hand froze midair like a stuck kite in still wind.

“Ha... ha-ha, it just makes us sound closer,” he chuckled, laughter thin as brittle ice.

“Who’s close to you?” Meng Xiaoxiao shot back, words sharp as pepper.

“If you’ve got business, say it; if not, move. We’re leaving,” her stance straight as a spear.

“Heh-heh, got time at noon? Let’s grab lunch,” he tried again, bait dangled like a shiny hook.

“Did your brain get waterlogged?” she sneered, a cold splash right in his face.

“Why invite random meals? If you’re sincere, treat the whole class,” she said, a drumbeat for the crowd.

“Hmm... that... works. Fine, I’ll host a class party another day,” he replied, decision landing like a stamp.

Meng Xiaoxiao hadn’t expected him to agree; her comeback snapped short like a string under strain.

“Fool. Coco, let’s go,” she said, tugging with a wind’s impatience.

“Mm,” Tang Coco answered, her silence like a closed fan, and let herself be pulled away.

Watching them leave, Li Mao drifted over to Lu Kai, words soft as smoke.

“Bro, you’re really hosting a party?” he asked, eyebrow lifted like a sail.

“Yeah, for real. A party’s a bonfire I can afford,” Lu Kai said, swagger bright as brass.

“But we’ve got a few big names in class; if the venue’s ordinary, they might not come,” Li Mao warned, a caution flag in breeze.

“That’s fine. I’ll ask my family for money; they’ll agree,” Lu Kai replied, confidence firm as stone.

“Nice. You’ll set a generous image, lanterns lit for all to see,” Li Mao grinned, teeth flashing like moonlight.

“Right. Help me plan it; at that party, I want Tang Coco,” Lu Kai said, fist clenched like iron.

“Oh? The young master finally decided?” Li Mao smiled, promise smooth as silk. “Leave it to me.”