For the next two hours, Tang Coco got treated like a porcelain doll, limbs posed as ribbons fluttered like butterflies.

After she changed into the second outfit, Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan invaded the changing room like a playful storm.

The three dolled her up while their opinions fluttered like sparrows in bamboo.

She endured it, and she learned pairings and how fabrics breathe, but two hours later her legs felt like jelly.

“Huff, huff—I’m done.”

Tang Coco slumped over the chair like a wilted lotus, breath fogging the glassy air.

In the end, she slipped into the deep-purple dress from the first round, twilight on fabric; she’d adapt piece by piece, like crossing stream stones.

“Hey… Coco, you need more training,” Li Muyan said, patting her back with a steady drumbeat.

“Get lost,” she muttered, swatting like at a fly.

“Hahaha. Our little beauty’s wrung out like a towel. Come on, upstairs to the café. My treat,” Auntie Qin said with a sunny smile.

“No need, thank you, Auntie Qin,” Ye Yiyi said, her voice light as a breeze.

“It’s fine. Working with Coco showed me seams that pulled wrong; that’s gold thread for my next designs,” Auntie Qin said, eyes bright as stars.

“In that case, we won’t be shy,” Ye Yiyi laughed, taking the offer like rain after drought.

Then Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan flanked Tang Coco, left and right like calm guard cats, and the girls drifted upstairs to the café.

They sipped their drinks, and their talk rippled across the table like pond rings.

“Coco, are you still in school?” Auntie Qin asked, voice warm as tea.

“Yeah, same as them, at Ninghai University, where ginkgo leaves flood the walks,” Tang Coco said.

“Oh, I see,” Auntie Qin murmured, nodding like a slow breeze.

“How about you model for me, Coco? It’d be a waste of such a figure, and it’ll toughen you up, shy fawn.”

“No. No way. Better not. Thanks, Auntie Qin. I… still have classes,” she said, words stumbling like pebbles in a stream.

“Please. Think I’m old and easy to fool? How many classes do you even attend a week?” Auntie Qin teased, eyes sharp as needles.

“At this rate, Little Muyan won’t set foot on campus soon,” she added, voice tapping like rain.

“Pfft—cough, cough…” Li Muyan almost sprayed her drink like a startled spray of foam.

“Auntie Qin, don’t pull the rug out from under me,” Li Muyan said, cheeks pink as peach blossoms.

Tang Coco sat there with her tongue tied like a ribbon; since term started, she hadn’t gone much either.

“Hahaha, alright, I won’t push. It’s just a pity,” Auntie Qin said, hands itching like a weaver’s at a beautiful bolt.

“When I see something lovely, I can’t help it,” she added, eyes alight like lanterns.

“Anyway, enough. What are your plans later?” she asked, tipping her cup like an hourglass.

“We’ll swing by the jewelry section,” Ye Yiyi said, thinking of a glittering reef.

“Oh, nice. While you’re young, tend to yourself like a garden,” Auntie Qin said, approval soft as moss.

“Mm,” they answered, a small hum like a moth’s wing.

“By the way, Auntie Qin, how much for those clothes?” Tang Coco asked, numbers flickering like little fish.

“No need. Consider them my gift to you, Coco,” Auntie Qin said, smile tied with a ribbon of goodwill.

“I can’t do that. Name a price; I can’t take them for nothing,” Tang Coco said, uneasy as a leaf in wind.

“These pieces don’t have prices,” Auntie Qin said, voice smooth as silk fresh off the loom.

“They’re new designs, not on shelves yet. No numbers. Just take them, Coco.”

“Uh… so they’re your new custom works?” Li Muyan blurted, surprise bright as a struck match.

“I didn’t realize,” Ye Yiyi said quickly. “Auntie Qin, let me pay for Coco,” she added, lifting an umbrella of intention.

Tang Coco blinked, fogged like a window in rain.

“Hey? What’s with you girls?” Auntie Qin said, feigning a frown like a paper fan snapped shut.

“I said it’s a gift. Keep fussing and I won’t style you next time.”

“Then… alright,” they yielded, like a flag drooping in calm wind.

Two people came over—a man in his thirties in brand names, and a woman whose heavy makeup hid her years like lacquer.

“Sorry to bother you, beautiful lady,” the man said, polite as a bow.

“What is it?” they asked, sunlight spilling like honey through the window.

They sat by the window in pairs; Tang Coco was on the aisle beside Ye Yiyi, and the man spoke to her.

“Where did you buy that dress? My wife loves it,” he said, his gaze sliding to the pale curve at her neckline like a thief of light.

“Sorry… it isn’t bought,” Tang Coco said, words soft as cotton.

“Hm?” the man blinked, surprise flicking like a fish.

“Tch. Not bought? What, custom?” the woman snapped, her tone spicy as pepper.

“If you won’t say, fine, you little vixen,” she added, lip curling like a hooked claw.

“Hey, who are you calling names!” Ye Yiyi bristled first, fur up like a cat guarding her own.

“Yeah, I mean her. Dressed like that to lure men—bait on a hook. What else but a vixen?” the woman sneered.

“Enough, Meimei. Is that how you talk to people?” the man said, voice tight as a knotted tie.

“What, you unhappy? Jiacheng, don’t forget my father gave you that job!” she snapped, firecrackers popping in her throat.

“And you’re taking this vixen’s side?”

“Watch your mouth,” Tang Coco said, standing with eyes cool as rain.

“Huh? Can’t stand being called cheap?” the woman laughed, brittle as glass.

“Heh. The makeup on your face could last an ordinary girl a month,” Tang Coco said, calm as a blade, the words laying like plaster.

“You! How dare you!” the woman barked, voice ringing like a struck gong.

Hit in her sore spot, she snatched a water from the next table and flung it in a bright arc like a silver fish.

No one expected it; Li Muyan across from Coco and the man beside them froze like statues.

The water was already in the air, beading like rain, streaking toward Coco.

Coco reacted fast and thought to dodge, lightning in her muscles.

She stopped herself, because Ye Yiyi stood behind her like a willow; if she dodged, Yiyi would take the splash.

She took it, letting the wave break over her so the shore stayed dry.

“Coco!” Ye Yiyi cried, her voice slicing the air like a gull.

Anger flared; Coco didn’t even look at her soaked self, dress clinging like wet petals.

She moved to teach the madwoman a lesson, a storm gathering, but Li Muyan caught her hand like reins on a bolting horse.

Holding Coco back, Li Muyan walked toward the madwoman, her steps a clean blade.

Smack! A crisp sound cracked the air like lightning.