Tang Coco had a dream of ink-dark emptiness, a night sea with no shore. She couldn’t move, as if an invisible mountain pressed her chest flat, stealing every breath like cold wind.

By morning, sunlight poured through a lilac gauze curtain like warm honey, painting the room gold. The window stood open; the far-off surf breathed and sighed, a slow tide smoothing the air.

But look at the bed, and that easy mood shattered like glass on stone.

A white-haired girl lay on her side, curled like a winter fern. Ropes wrapped her like stubborn vines, pinning every limb. A cartoon blanket covered only her waist; the rest of her lay bare in the soft spill of light.

“Mmm—” Her body stirred, a small sound; it was sweet and pained, like a violin string tugged too hard.

Tang Coco felt a lead weight pressing her bones, fatigue like wet sand. Before she opened her eyes, she tried to move; the ropes answered with silence, like a locked gate. Slowly, memory rose like fog.

Last night, Gu Xin had grilled her, a cold flame under iron. Tang told everything—her post-transformation skills, how she met Ye Yiyi and the others, how she fooled them—each detail a thorn. Gu Xin flared more than once, sparks snapping in the dark. Misfortune rolled Tang under like a wave until past three in the morning. Gu Xin let up but didn’t untie the vines, and held her through the night, a guarded embrace. Tang begged for mercy a few times; Gu Xin truly got angry then, her quiet rage like frost. Tang had no choice and forced herself down into sleep, sinking like a stone in a pond. Maybe because they spilled too much feeling, both were wrung dry; a while later, the two drifted off.

“Too much... you still won’t loosen me.” Tang lay on her side, helpless, voice a thin thread.

Click. The door opened like a beak snapping.

Gu Xin stepped in wearing gray sportswear, hair in a single ponytail, her stride clean as a blade.

“Awake?” Her tone was cool, a shadow under sun.

“Xin’er... can you untie me?” Tang looked up, hope like a candle.

“Don’t call me Xin’er, you jerk.” Gu Xin shot her a white-eyed look, a pebble skipping across water.

“...” Tang stared, speechless; since last night, “jerk” had been thrown like stones.

“This counts as illegal detention, right...” With nowhere to turn, Tang reached for law like a straw in a storm.

“Sorry... you’ve got no papers.” Gu Xin’s smile was thin as ice.

“...” “Good Xin’er— please, loosen me, okay?” When steel failed, Tang swapped to sugar, face borrowed pitiful clouds.

“Want me to let you go?” Gu Xin sat by the bed, leaned down, voice close as rain.

“Mm-hmm!” Hope flared in Tang’s chest like a match.

“Then answer one question.” Gu Xin stroked Tang’s cheek, fingers cool as moonlight.

“What question?” Tang asked, breath catching like a snagged kite.

“You’re exposed now. What will you do next? And what about us?” Gu Xin held her gaze, steady as a lighthouse beam.

“I...” The word shrank like a leaf in winter. Tang dodged her eyes, heart thudding. Before, she would’ve left without looking back, a bird cutting from the net. After yesterday, she saw how her “disappearance” hit them—like a cliff fall—so now she didn’t know what path led to the best shore.

“Still hesitating?” Gu Xin’s disappointment was a chill wind; she pinched Tang’s cheek hard, a wake-up bite. “Fine. Next... fend for yourself.”

She stood, and the room felt a size larger. “Huh? What do you mean?” Tang blinked, confusion flapping like moths.

Gu Xin didn’t answer; she turned and walked for the door, her back a closed gate.

“Where are you going? Untie me first.” Panic climbed Tang’s throat like smoke.

“I gave you a chance. You didn’t take it.” Gu Xin spoke with her back to Tang, voice flat as a blade. She stepped out and shut the door.

Bang. The sound was a stone dropped in a well.

“What the heck...” Tang let out a helpless breath, looked down at her bound body, and sighed, a spent tide pulling back.

Damn system! Where’d you run off to? Your host is like this and you still won’t show! Tang cursed inwardly, anger a spark with nowhere to land. She forced herself to roll, a log turning, until she reached the bed’s edge. Her legs found the floor like timid deer. Inch by inch, she levered her upper body up and finally sat, breath ragged. Her nightdress was askew, a wilted flower.

“Hoo—” She exhaled deep, lungs scraping like bellows. She kept at it, pushed forward, and stood, swaying like a reed. Her eyes swept the room, hunting for a lifeline; on the desk’s fruit plate, a fruit knife flashed like a crescent moon. She tried to hop over; one jump and the world tilted, balance scattering like starlings. She bit her lip and decided to rush it, aiming to hop straight to the desk in one go.

Thump—thump—thump—thump. Her bouncing echoed through the room like drumbeats.

Bang! Crack! The monitor rattled against the desk, a clattering gull.

After a few hard hops, she lost her footing and toppled onto the desk, a wave breaking on rock.

“Hiss—ow—” Her upper body lay sprawled on the tabletop; she shook her head, unable to rub the sting, hands trussed like wings.

“What are you doing? Why so loud?” A voice came from outside, cool as shade. Tang’s eyes flew wide.

“Meng... Meng Yuting!” Panic sliced her voice thin. If gentle Gu Xin could turn like that, she didn’t dare imagine Meng Yuting now.

She tried to stand, but her weight had pitched onto the desk; her strength was spent, a drained cup. In that heartbeat, the door opened, and Meng Yuting walked in wearing a black dress, night stitched to daylight.

“Oh? What game is this?” From Meng’s angle, a white-haired beauty was tied head to toe and bent over the desk. The short nightdress had ridden up, revealing the lower layer like a blush.

“...” Tang looked at Meng, mortified; heat rushed to her face like sunrise.

“My my— looks like Xin’er’s changed plenty. She plays like this now.” Meng’s laugh rang bright, a silver bell. To Tang, the thought struck: Meng Yuting had taught Gu Xin wicked tricks, like ink seeping into water.

Meng came to her side, leaned down, and brought her lips near Tang’s ear, voice a feather on skin. “Need help, hubby?”

!!! Tang flinched, ears folding like startled birds, dodging the tickle that ran down her spine.

“I...” She spoke with a flushed face, words melting like candy.

“The desk’s too hard. Let’s go to the bed.” Meng cut her off, then slid her hands under Tang. In one smooth motion, she princess-carried her, gentle as lifting a lantern, and set her on the bed.

Tang looked at Meng Yuting’s sunny smile, and her chest tightened instead of easing, a string wound too far. If Meng were raging like yesterday, Tang could brace like a cliff; this silk-soft mood felt like a blade hidden in velvet.

“Alright. Wait a sec, okay?” Meng smiled, a crescent on water. She went to the door and turned the lock with a soft click, then crossed to the tall window and drew the blackout curtain. With a whoosh, daytime slipped away; darkness fell like a cloak.

“What... what are you going to do?” Tang watched her back, nerves humming like taut wire.

“Me? Heh.” Meng’s cold smile showed, a frost line. She turned, and Tang saw the red glow in Meng’s eyes, coals under ash.

“Uh... Yu... Yuting... it’s not that serious, right...” Tang felt both tense and helpless; she’d seen this face before—usually when Meng found an opponent worth her interest, or during an interrogation—storms drawn to lightning.

“I’m very, very mad, Miss Tang Coco. I already spared you once last night.” Meng smiled, but to Tang it was a predator’s curve, moonlight on steel.

“Uh... I... I was wrong...” Tang said, wanting to retreat, but the ropes held like iron roots.

“Heh.” Meng’s laugh was soft and sharp. She slipped off her shoes and crawled onto the bed, panther-smooth.

“...” Tang felt trouble bloom, a thorned rose. She wasn’t afraid of pain, not even of death; if they’d killed her earlier, she wouldn’t have flinched. But this—this was the one thing she couldn’t bear, a flood she couldn’t stand against.

“I hear you didn’t answer Xin’er’s question.” Meng moved over Tang, smile curved like a hook.

“...” Tang didn’t answer; the words stuck like thorns.

“What are you going to do?” Meng asked again, voice steady as rain.

“I...” Her face twisted; the sound stammered out. “I’m sorry... I still...” The rest broke like surf.

“Is that so.” Meng cut in once more, closing her eyes briefly; disappointment settled like dust.

“As expected. You still don’t see your real mistake.” Her words fell like stones, even, measured.

“I...” Tang reached, and silence answered, a bare branch.

“Do you think becoming a girl means you can’t be with us?” Meng frowned, a line across water.

“...” Tang avoided her eyes, gaze skittering like minnows.

“Do you think turning into a girl is shameful? That you can’t hold your head up in front of us?” Meng caught Tang’s chin, guiding it back, grip firm as a ring.

“...” Tang closed her eyes, shutting out the world like shuttered windows.

“Figures. What a jerk.” Meng’s anger flashed, a red thread pulled tight.

“If your macho pride weighs that heavy—if you refuse to accept that you’re a woman—then don’t blame me.” Her voice was iron wrapped in silk.

“I’m going to take back a few things.” Meng said, and her mouth claimed Tang’s, the kiss rougher than Gu Xin’s last night, a storm breaking a quiet shore.

“Mmph!” Tang’s eyes flew open, staring at Meng Yuting, shock flaring like lightning.