At the second-floor landing, Ye Yiyi saw Tang Coco’s bedroom door shut, quiet as a clouded moon.

She stepped over and pushed it open.

“Coco, dinner’s ready.” Her voice drifted like warm steam from a pot.

“Mmm… mm-mm~” The reply was a muffled hum, urgent and angry, like a fox trapped in a snare.

Weird, she thought, her heart pricking like thorns, and she shoved the door wider to look inside.

“Whoa! Coco, what happened?” Her words scattered like startled sparrows.

The scene hit her like lightning: Tang Coco lay prone on the bed, arms raised above his head.

A ribbon stitched with a red bow tied his wrists to the headboard, a silken snake with a smile.

Another ribbon sealed his mouth, a scarlet petal pressed over a bud.

His white short-sleeve shirt was yanked high, pink underwear showing like cherry petals after rain.

His shorts were pushed down to his thighs, stranded like a tide at low water.

“Oh my god! What is this?” Her gasp broke like ice.

Ye Yiyi hurried over, quick as wind over a pond, and untied the gagging ribbon first.

“Cough… cough… Bas—… I’ll kill her!” His small voice sparked like flint, rage hot as iron.

“Okay, Coco, don’t get worked up—careful with your body.” Her tone smoothed the air like a hand over ripples.

As she soothed him, the red ribbon tugged at her memory like a familiar silhouette in mist.

She lifted it, studied it, and suddenly it clicked like a lock: Ningxin’s red short skirt belt.

“Um… Yiyi-jie… don’t zone out… please untie me.” His voice crawled from the pillow like a tired cat.

Tang Coco, still prone, lifted his small head and gave Ye Yiyi a speechless look, slow as a turtle.

“Ah—sorry… haha… I forgot.” Her laugh fluttered like paper.

Ye Yiyi snapped back, bent like a willow, and loosened the ribbon at his wrists.

“Damn… nn… hey…” His words rattled like dry seeds.

Freed, he drew back his arms and pressed the mattress, trying to roll over, breath heavy as a stone.

Lying like that hurt; his body felt weak as watered tea after Ningxin’s rough play.

Whatever strength he’d regained had blown away like morning mist.

He struggled a few times, but it failed, collapsing like waves against a wall.

“Don’t rush; I’ll help.” Her promise settled like snow on pine.

Ye Yiyi saw his strain, dropped the ribbon, and moved behind him, hands steady like oars.

She braced both sides of his body, gathering strength—then a cry popped like a bubble.

“Ah!” His cry snapped like a twig.

“Hm? What is it?” Her question drifted like a feather.

Thinking she’d hurt him, Ye Yiyi lowered her head; his face was red as a ripe persimmon.

“Your… hands…” His whisper quivered like a moth near a flame.

“Hm?” The sound rose like a flicked pebble.

She glanced down, and her own cheeks flared, sudden as a struck match.

In her haste, her palms had landed on bare skin where his shirt was hitched, warm as spring clay.

For leverage, her hands were set too far forward, strong as a push on a gate—touching somewhere soft.

“Ah—this…” Her startlement fluttered like a startled lark.

Ye Yiyi instantly let go, hands falling like leaves, lost for words.

“It’s… fine… just… pull my shirt down first.” His voice seeped from the pillow crack like smoke.

“Okay…” Her reply flowed like a thin stream.

Ye Yiyi said no more; she eased his white short-sleeve down, a curtain settling after a breeze.

Then she turned him over, gentle as turning a page under lamplight.

Blushing, she tugged his shorts up, neat as hoisting a little flag at dawn.

“Whew—okay. What happened between you two?” Her question hung like a paper lantern.

With everything back in place, Ye Yiyi sat by the bed, calm as late rain on tiles.

“It’s nothing… just don’t ask, and don’t let me see her.” His anger glinted like a knife’s edge.

“Uh… fine, but Sister Ning probably… was just teasing you.” Her words tiptoed like a breeze through bamboo.

“Teasing? My foot! Just wait—when I recover, I’ll string her up and beat her.” His vow pounded like a war drum.

The more he thought, the hotter he got; a big guy bullied by a girl—he had to restore his face, firm as granite.

“Uh…” Ye Yiyi was speechless, a stone sinking in a pond; he was really mad.

“Hmm? This bracelet’s pretty! Did Sister Ning give it to you?” Her eyes caught light like a crescent moon.

On the nightstand, a delicate bracelet gleamed; she picked it up, cool as a pebbled river.

“Who wants it? Toss it for me!” His words snapped like bamboo in frost.

He tried to grab it and throw it, but his arm fell halfway, limp as a broken kite.

“Hey—don’t throw a tantrum.” Ye Yiyi laughed, bubbles rising like spring water.

Now she was sure Ningxin had been teasing; she patted his head, smooth as stroking a cat.

“Don’t touch my head! I’m not a kid.” His pride stood like a stiff pine.

“Wow, Coco, you’re adorable when you’re mad. Like this, I almost want to bully you.” Her tease danced like a fox under moonlight.

“!!!!” His glare crackled like firecrackers.

“Hehe, just kidding.” Her laughter rang like silver bells, trembling into ripples.

“Dinner’s ready. Wait here; I’ll bring it up.” Her promise floated like steam from rice.

“No, that’s too much trouble. Help me downstairs to eat.” His request rolled like a slow river.

“Huh? You’ve got the strength to go down?” Her brow lifted like a crane’s neck.

“Of course, I already—” His words faltered like wind on a spent sail.

He pressed the bed to sit up, then gave up; his strength was gone, faded like sand through fingers.

The energy he’d regained yesterday had scattered again, a flock flown at dawn.

“Sigh… be good and listen. I’ll bring it up. Wait, okay?” Her gentleness wrapped him like a soft shawl.

Ye Yiyi stood and left, steps light as drifting feathers.

“Ningxin, you jerk!” His shout flew like a stone into a lake, ripples thin and tired.

Tang Coco roared without strength, thunder rolling far beyond the hills.

“Achoo!” The sneeze burst like a seed pod.

“Bet that little brat’s bad-mouthing me.” Ningxin’s chuckle chimed like wind bells on a porch.

Thinking of the feel just now and Tang Coco’s face, she melted like warm wine—felt pretty good.

Ningxin held the thought as she drove toward the Li family villas in Ninghai, headlights like twin moons on a dark road.