At noon, Tang Coco meant to jog back to the villa, soft as a cat in sun. But Meng Xiaoxiao’s stubborn streak pressed like a river on stone, so Coco let her give her a ride.
A red Ferrari slid into Jinxiu Garden Villas like a red koi, then settled at Ye Yiyi’s door.
“We’re here, Coco-jie.” Her voice chimed like a small bell.
“Mm, thanks for the ride,” she said, words warm as afternoon tea.
“Mmm…” The sound bobbed like a bubble under water.
Coco reached for the door, but spotted Meng Xiaoxiao puffing her cheeks like a little goldfish, staring.
“Huh? What’s up?” she asked, her voice light as a spring breeze.
“Mmm…” Her cheeks stayed round as steamed buns.
“...”
She paused, thoughts drifting like a small cloud, then the light flicked on inside.
“Enough, stop puffing—careful or your cheeks won’t deflate, like buns gone stubborn. Get out. Eat here at noon. I’ll cook.”
Tang Coco tapped her on the head, a resigned knock like on a tiny gourd.
“Yay! Hehe, Coco-jie still spoils me.” Her grin bloomed bright as sun.
“...”
Ding-dong! The sound rang like a silver bell.
“Coming,” Ye Yiyi called, her slippers whispering like soft feathers.
Hearing the doorbell, Ye Yiyi padded over in slippers, steps gentle as foam on shore.
“Coco, you got back fast today,” she said, surprise fluttering like a sparrow.
“Mm, someone gave me a lift—here, this little rascal.” She pulled the girl out from behind like lifting a kitten by the scruff.
“Um… Yiyi-jie, hello! I’m Meng Xiaoxiao.” Her voice stretched delicate as a thread.
“Uh—oh! So you’re Meng Xiaoxiao. Come in, come in.” Her welcome glowed warm as a hearth.
It was so sudden that Ye Yiyi’s mind rippled like a stone tossed in water; she hadn’t expected Coco to bring someone home.
Inside, Tang Coco noticed Li Muyan wasn’t around; the living room felt empty as a still pond.
“Huh? Yiyi-jie, where’d that guy go?” Her tone flicked like a pebble on glass.
“Li Muyan? Something came up at her home. She got called back,” Ye Yiyi said, voice steady as a taut rope.
“Oh, perfect. Quiet at last,” Coco said, content settling like cool shade in bamboo.
“...”
A sigh curled in Ye Yiyi’s chest like thin smoke; words stuck. She thought, Looks like I need to mend things between Coco and Li Muyan when time allows.
“Xiaoxiao, sit first. I’ll fix lunch,” Coco said, the kitchen already warm like a small hearth. “You can taste your brother’s cooking—mine.”
Coco’s slip fell like a pebble, but Ye Yiyi and Meng Xiaoxiao took it as a joke, smiles bright as lanterns.
“Hahaha, yeah, yeah. I’ll wait to taste Handsome Tang’s cooking.” Meng Xiaoxiao laughed on the couch, her laughter bubbling like soda.
Coco headed to the kitchen, sleeves rolling like a gentle tide. Ye Yiyi set a bottle of drink on the coffee table, the glass cool as a stream, then sat to chat with Meng Xiaoxiao. The two traded jokes; their laughter drifted to the kitchen like wind chimes.
“These two…” Coco sighed, the sound soft as wind through reeds, and kept working, movements steady as a metronome.
At the Imperial Walk Club, the air wasn’t so light; it pressed down like a bank of rainclouds.
“This is the investigation of those Americans’ death scenes. Take a look.” Files slid across the desk, cold as steel plates.
In the records room, Ningxin had staff pull the data from the computer, screens pale as waterlight, then handed it to Lielong.
“Okay, No. 4, you take a look. If you spot anything unusual, log it at once,” Lielong said, words crisp as a whip crack.
“Yes!” The reply was sharp as a blade drawn.
The young man sat at the computer and began, fingers tapping like quick sparrows.
“Leader Ning, it’s already noon. How about we rest, grab lunch, let them keep digging?” Lielong’s tone rose warm as steam.
“Mm, sure. Xiao Qiao, stay here and help him. Call me if anything,” Ningxin said, calm as a still pond.
“Got it, Ning-jie.” The answer landed neat as a stamp.
Xiao Qiao agreed readily, smile flaring like a struck match.
“Then let’s head upstairs. Our club’s food is first-rate,” Ningxin said, her gesture flowing like silk.
“Then I’ll obey rather than be polite—haha. Lead the way, Leader Ning,” Lielong chuckled, words rolling like marbles on a tray.
Before leaving, in a blink no one noticed, Lielong shot No. 4 a tiny look. The two understood like shadows nodding in alley light.
Far from Huaguo, in Country F’s international airport, two striking figures pulled their suitcases, gliding into the jetway like swans entering a river. One wore black, the other wheat-colored beige; sunglasses hid faces smooth as a glass lake.
“Sigh… after more than ten years, we’re finally going to live on that land again.” The woman in black spoke, nostalgia rising like a slow tide.
“...”
“Stop wasting breath on random nostalgia—careful, you’ll wrinkle,” the woman beside her said, dry as cool shade.
“Hehe… I’m just warming the mood. Look at you, face like a glacier,” the black-clad one teased, eyes flicking like a sparrow’s wing. When the other stayed cool, she slid an arm around her, sly as a cat.
“What is it, little beauty? Thinking of the peaceful days ahead—happy already?” Her voice padded playful as a cat’s paw.
The two were Gu Xin and Meng Yuting.
“Get lost—behave. I think you’re just thirsty,” Meng Yuting shot back, words hot as pepper.
“Hey, can’t help it. Until I find him, I can only tease you—hehe,” Gu Xin laughed, mischief light as a breeze.
“Enough, behave. There are people,” Meng Yuting said, firmness tapping like a knuckle on wood.
At that, Meng Yuting let go of Gu Xin, hands falling like leaves.
“Okay, okay. When we get back, I need to handle family stuff. I hear my little sister isn’t home—went out of town for school. I’ll have to look after her,” she said, concern folding neat as paper.
“That so? No problem, I’ll help,” Gu Xin replied, promise steady as a pillar.
Gu Xin said it earnestly, gaze clear as water.
“Hehe—Xin’er, you’re the best.” Warmth spread between them like sunlight.
Then the two boarded the flight to Yanjing, the cabin a silver tube humming like a hive.
Because of the Shadow Division’s nature, their plane couldn’t enter Huaguo directly. So they slipped into Country F in secret, ink-dark quiet, then took a commercial flight to Huaguo. Of course, Tang Coco knew none of it, her day blue as an empty sky.
“Alright—the food’s ready.” Aroma rose like steam from winter rice.
Tang Coco set dishes on the table: two meat, one vegetable, one cold plate, colors bright as a small garden.
“Wow! Coco-jie, your food smells amazing,” Meng Xiaoxiao said, words hopping like sparrows.
“Of course. I told you I can cook, but you didn’t believe,” Coco said, pride warm as a kitchen fire.
“I believe now—hehe,” Xiaoxiao giggled, bells in her throat.
“Alright, quit clowning. Eat up. We still have class this afternoon,” Coco said, tone firm as bamboo.
“This one, this one—mm, mm—so good, so good,” Xiaoxiao murmured, joy bubbling like soup.
“...”
Even delicious food couldn’t plug Meng Xiaoxiao’s chattering mouth. Tang Coco and Ye Yiyi watched her, speechless, and slowly savored the meal, flavors drifting like a calm river.
Ding-dong! A silver bell pealed at the door.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang, sound rippling like a pebble dropped in water.
