“Hello, Chief. It’s Xiao Li,” his voice thin as a paper kite tugged by wind.

“What is it? Didn’t you go to Lili’s?” The reply rolled in heavy, like a drumbeat in a cave.

“Y-yeah… I’m already here,” he said, nerves fluttering like sparrows startled from a branch.

“Then handle it and get back,” the Chief snapped, his words like flung pebbles skimming dark water.

“But something popped up,” Xiao Li whispered, dread coiling like mist. “A few people came, said they’re from the military district. Chief, do you know any General Li in Ninghai?”

“W—what? General Li?” The Chief’s voice leapt like lightning across a low sky. “They’re his people?”

“Uh… that’s what they said…” Xiao Li breathed, as if stepping onto thin ice.

“How many? What do they look like?” The question cut like a hawk’s cry over a field.

“Four men and a few girls,” he said, counting like stones set on a tray. “The men look trained. The one arguing with the lady is a girl around twenty, and someone just called her Miss Li.”

“Surname Li… early twenties…” The Chief’s tone tightened, like a bowstring ready to sing. “Ask her name. Now.”

Xiao Li set his phone aside, breath steadying like a pond at dusk, then walked up to Li Muyan. “Uh… your name…?”

“Li Muyan~” She smiled, light as frost catching morning sun; she’d seen this turn coming.

“Chief, she says Li Muyan,” he reported, voice small as a reed in rain.

“…” Silence spread cold, like a sheet of iron.

“Damn it—what an idiot—he’s landed me in a mess,” the Chief roared, anger flaring like dry brush. “Drag her back! Leave there now!”

“Ah—okay, got it.” Xiao Li answered fast, like a sparrow dodging a cat.

“Miss, your father wants us to head back,” he told the heavily made-up woman, using careful words like gloves.

“What!? Just let it go?” Lili’s rage snapped like a whip. “What’s Father thinking? Someone dared hit me!”

Her husband finally stepped in, his calm like a stone by a river. “Is it that complicated?”

“Yes. The Chief wants us back, and his tone was bad,” Xiao Li said, worry rolling like distant thunder.

“Lili, let’s go,” the man urged, voice low as winter coals. “If Father said that, he has his reasons.”

“No! No way!” She dug in, stubborn as a mule in mud.

“Lili, remember how Father gets when he’s angry?” He pressed, words steady as pillars. “If he calls us back, there’s a reason.”

“…” She paused, a shadow passing like a cloud over noon, and remembering something grim, she yielded.

“Hmph.” Li Muyan watched, a cool sneer like moonlight on steel. She wouldn’t let it slide; the Qun family was etched into her ledger like cuts in bamboo.

“Stop!” Aunt Qin’s voice cracked sharp, like a crane’s call at dawn, as she stood.

“And you are…?” the husband asked, caution rising like a hedgehog’s spines.

“Relax… I’m no grand-clan lady,” Aunt Qin said, each word measured like stitches. “But you can’t just walk. She ruined a piece I was truly satisfied with; you owe me a word.”

“Your work?” He glanced at Tang Coco, struck still like a moth at a lantern, then forced himself calm and looked at Coco’s dress. “You mean this outfit was designed by you?”

“Yep, Aunt Qin made it,” Tang Coco said, warmth soft as candlelight.

“Really? You can make that?” Lili snapped, pride bleeding like dye in water. “Quit lying.”

“Heh—young folk, a mix of good and bad,” Aunt Qin sighed, her smile thin as autumn light.

“Aunt Qin, I’m fine. Don’t get mad,” Tang Coco soothed, gentle as hands smoothing silk.

“Coco, you’re kind,” Aunt Qin said, temper cooling like tea set aside. “Fine. Since Coco asked, I won’t press it. You’re the Qun family’s daughter, right? Tell your people my shop won’t welcome them anymore.”

She moved to Coco’s side, protective as a willow’s shade. “Coco, come back with me. I’ll fix the dress.”

“Okay,” Coco answered, relief like a breeze after heat.

After Coco’s group left, the onlookers scattered like leaves, full of questions. In Aunt Qin’s dressing room, Tang Coco changed into a white dress, pure as fresh snow, and handed over the black one for Aunt Qin’s special cleaning, like a moon washed in a hidden spring.

The three girls then hit the market, carts clattering like pebbles, buying snacks and daily goods piled like small hills.

“Coco… you’re not a girl, right…” Li Muyan said in the supermarket, pushing the cart like a ship through aisles.

“!!!” Coco’s mind thumped, shock like a gong. “Did she find out? How?”

“What are you… talking about…” she tried, words wobbling like jelly.

“Am I just babbling?” Li Muyan asked, eyebrows lifting like birds.

“Look… we’ve known each other almost a month,” she said, tone playful as rain on bamboo. “Not a single relative’s shown up. So you must be a fake girl.”

“…” Tang Coco stared, stunned, silence like a frozen pond. So it was just that!

“Wow! You asking for a beating!” She flared, jade-white hand darting like a swift, aiming for Li Muyan’s neck.

“Whoa—murder!” Li Muyan yelped, drama wide as a stage.

“Right—hit the hospital tomorrow,” Ye Yiyi chimed in, teasing smooth as a cat. “Maybe Coco’s got a condition.”

“!!!” Coco gasped, hurt puffing like a pufferfish. “Yiyi-jie, you’re bullying me too!”

“Hahaha—” Laughter spilled, light as wind through chimes.

Night fell over the Qun family villa, lights glowing like embers in a brazier.

Smack! A crisp slap cracked the air like ice.

“Father!” Lili cried, tears bright as rain on glass.

“Shut up,” Qun Lixin barked, rage burning like a furnace. “Jiacheng, why didn’t you stop her and let her run wild?”

Qun Lili sat on the floor, clutching her face, sobbing like a broken reed.

The patriarch, Ninghai City’s bureau chief Qun Lixin, stood in the living room, his glare cold as steel.

“Sorry, Father. It was my fault,” Lü Jiacheng said, head bowed like a bent pine.

“Hmph! Good thing Xiao Li reported in time,” Qun Lixin snarled, temper smoking like hot iron. “Otherwise you’d have stirred big trouble today! The Li family—who in Ninghai dares cross them?”

“Yes, yes, it’s my fault I didn’t ask around sooner,” Jiacheng muttered, guilt heavy as a wet cloak.

“All right, Zhengxin,” a woman soothed, voice soft as silk, as she helped Lili up like lifting a wilted lily. “They were ignorant. Since the other side didn’t press it, let’s end it.”

“Hmph.” Qun Zhengxin’s anger simmered, a covered pot still rattling.

“By the way, Father,” Lü Jiacheng said, a thought glinting like a pin. “Do you know a middle-aged woman surnamed Qin?”

“Qin?” The name hung like a bell note.

“Yes,” he said. “The girl Lili splashed wore a very beautiful dress, and they said it was made by a woman they called Aunt Qin.”

“Aunt Qin? Doesn’t ring a bell… Do you know?” Qun Zhengxin asked his wife, the matter drifting to her like a fan.

“Qin… Qin…” she murmured, memory turning like pages. “Wait! Jiacheng, how old is she?”

“Uh… hard to tell,” he replied. “Her skin’s kept well, looks like she’s in her thirties, but she kept saying she’s old.” His uncertainty floated like fog.

“Uh-oh… could it be Qin Miaohua?” Her words tightened, like a string pulled taut.

“Qin Miaohua? I’ve never heard of her,” Qun Zhengxin said, brow knotted like rope.

“You rarely handle household matters, of course you don’t know,” his wife explained, patience calm as a pond. “Qin Miaohua’s a famous fashion designer across Huaguo. The ladies of Ninghai’s families have all dealt with her, and even several families in Yanjing wear her designs to banquets…”