Tang Coco instinctively slid under the water, but the warm, clear bath was glass-clean, offering no cover; heat flushed her cheeks as she asked Meng Yuting, voice rippling like a small splash.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to see if you need any help,” Meng Yuting said, smiling, her eyes bright like lanterns in steam.

“Uh… no. It’s not my first time bathing on my own,” Tang Coco said, her blush blooming like a cherry petal.

“Oh? So did you… do anything to yourself?” Meng Yuting’s playful grin hooked up, sly as a fox tail.

“…”

The words hit, and Coco’s cute face reddened again, color rising like dawn.

“What on earth is in your head?”

“Please. You little perv, don’t think I don’t know you,” Meng Yuting shot her a look sharp as a pin.

“…”

“Really don’t need help?” Meng Yuting asked, voice light but probing, like a fingertip on still water.

“No!” Tang Coco barked, nerves snapping like a taut string.

“Fine then, I’ll go make the bed,” Meng Yuting said, turning with a breeze like a drifting petal.

“Hey, wait!” Coco called, a ripple of panic breaking.

“What bed?” Her brows drew together, doubt clouding like mist.

“The bed you sleep on—what else?” Meng Yuting said, deadpan, her tone flat as an iron pan.

“No need… I’ll make it myself later,” Coco said, a bad premonition prickling like cold rain.

“It’s alright. I’ll prep it now. When you’re done, I’ll take my bath,” Meng Yuting said with a gentle smile, soft as warm light.

“…”

“Hold on! You’re not… planning… to… live with me, are you?” The sense of wrong rolled in like thunder, and Coco finally blurted it out.

“Yeah. I gave the room to Xin’er last night. Tonight’s my turn,” Meng Yuting said, as if it were written on stone.

“Uh…” The air tightened in Coco’s chest, nerves fluttering like trapped birds; this morning had been a complete ordeal under Meng Yuting’s hands—what about a whole night?

“Can I… refuse?” Her cheeks reddened again, a rose under dew.

Even though living with her girlfriend filled Coco with a quiet joy, a dark hunch bled through like an ink stain.

“No. Way,” Meng Yuting said, each word a knock like knuckles on wood. “Don’t tell me you don’t like me. Do you hate living with me?”

“No, no, no, how could I…” Coco stammered, words tumbling like beads.

“Hmph. You’d better be honest. Otherwise, I don’t mind ‘special measures.’ I think Xin’er’s idea last night was pretty good,” Meng Yuting said, threat sweet as candied haw yet sharp as a blade.

“Don’t! No need. I’ll come over in a minute…” A cornered heart thumped like a drum, and Coco could only cave.

“Heh,” Meng Yuting snorted, turning away, footsteps light as falling leaves.

“…”

Coco lowered her head, looked at herself, and sighed, breath soft as a fading breeze.

“Ah…” She rose from the tub, water sliding off like beads, and padded to the laundry basket.

“Uh…” Only then did she realize she hadn’t brought her sleepwear in—emptiness stark as a bare branch.

“Yu… Yuting!” Coco called from the bathroom, voice echoing against tile like a small bell.

“What?” Meng Yuting’s answer floated back, lazy as steam.

“Bring me my sleepwear…”

“I’m changing. Wrap a towel and come out,” Meng Yuting said, words warm but unmoving, like a closed door.

“…”

No choice. Coco fumbled, wrapped herself in a towel like a cocoon, and pushed the bathroom door open; in the bedroom, Meng Yuting had shed her outer clothes, wearing two black pieces, her fair skin smooth as jade, her figure crisp and proud as a drawn bow.

“Look. Don’t I look even better now?” Meng Yuting smiled and struck poses that showcased her curves, each line flowing like a river.

“Mm…” Coco answered, dazed as mist; her mind wandered, old scenes flickering like lantern slides as she looked at Yuting’s body.

“Hey! What kind of answer is that?” Meng Yuting’s temper flared, sparks popping like hot oil.

“Do you think I can’t measure up to you, you little minx?”

“Uh…” Coco blinked, returning to herself, and hurried to explain, words soft as cotton.

“No… not at all…”

“Just wait. When I’m done bathing, you won’t have it easy,” Meng Yuting huffed, storming toward the bathroom, footsteps quick as rain.

“…”

Coco watched helplessly, wanting to thunk her own forehead; how could she be this dense, a reed in the wind?

She dried her hair, slipped into the black sleepwear Gu Xin had bought, but unease clung like a shadow; had she really made Meng Yuting mad? If so, she was doomed tonight. She sat on the bed, restless as a caged bird, then bit down and refused to surrender without a fight.

Her gaze swept the room like a hawk, then caught the wardrobe—an electronic lock gleamed like a cold star. Since they had no outsiders, Gu Xin hadn’t used the lock; the sight sparked a reckless idea, wild as lightning.

She moved to the wardrobe, sealed it with a beep, and changed the password, fingers quick as swallows; then she went to the bathroom door and knocked, knuckles tapping like rain.

“What?” Meng Yuting’s voice floated from the steam.

“I… forgot to grab something,” Coco said, nerves fluttering like moth wings.

“Come in.”

Coco stepped into the bathroom; Meng Yuting sat in the tub with her back to her, steam coiling like clouds around her shoulders.

“You were so shy earlier, and now you waltz in?” Meng Yuting said, exasperation drifting like a sigh.

“…”

Coco ignored it; while Yuting was turned away, she snatched the sleepwear from the basket and the towel from the hook, hugged them tight like stolen treasure, and darted out, a shadow slipping between lanterns.

She didn’t know why; she’d faced killing without fear before, yet now her heart thumped wildly, a drum under silk. Clutching the bundle, she ran from her room and into Gu Xin’s room, pushing the door like a wave breaking.

“Huh? Coco, what are you doing?” Gu Xin had just finished bathing, white sleepwear soft as clouds, a towel in hand; she saw Coco rush in clutching a pile and blinked in surprise.

“Uh… this…” Coco swallowed, nerves tight as strings. “Xin’er, can I sleep here?”

“Uh… where’s Yuting… didn’t she say—” Gu Xin began, but Coco cut her off, words tumbling like pebbles.

“Oh, don’t mind her. I’ll sleep here.” Coco tossed the bundle aside and dove into bed, disappearing under the quilt like a startled fish.

“Uh…” Gu Xin stared at the bulging duvet, then shook her head with a small smile and kept drying her hair, motion smooth as wind.

Under the blanket, Coco curled up, whispering to herself, heart beating like a trapped bird. “Whatever. Sleep. It’ll be fine…”

A few minutes later, Gu Xin finished drying her hair and turned to ask what had happened—when a roar cracked from next door, loud as thunder.

“Tang Coco!!!” Meng Yuting’s furious voice slammed through the walls; the quilt trembled like a pond hit by a thrown stone.

Bang!

The door burst open, and Gu Xin turned, then froze; Meng Yuting stood there with nothing on, only water droplets clinging like crystal beads.

Gu Xin’s pretty face flushed, a pale pink bloom, but she didn’t overreact; she asked, tone puzzled and calm as evening water, “Yuting, what are you doing? Why aren’t you wearing clothes?”

“Where’s Tang Coco? Is she under that blanket? If I don’t eat her tonight, I’m not a Meng!” Meng Yuting snarled, voice the snap of a wolf’s jaw, and lunged for the bed; Gu Xin grabbed her arm, a steady hand like a mooring rope.

“Hold up, Yuting. Slow down. Talk first. Come with me to get clothes, or you’ll catch a cold,” Gu Xin said, smoothing the storm, her voice a soothing tea warmth.

“Hmph! Let’s see where you hide,” Meng Yuting barked toward the bulging quilt, words sharp as arrows.

Gu Xin led her to the dressing room and helped dry her hair, the dryer’s whir like wind through pines; a few minutes later, they came back. Gu Xin had pieced the story together and sat helplessly at the side, while Meng Yuting planted her hands on her hips, eyes fixed on the mound like a hunting cat.

“Come out,” Meng Yuting said to the puffed blanket, anger tight as a drawn bow.

“…”

No movement—silence heavy as snow.

“I’ll give you one more chance. Come out from under the covers,” she shouted, heat rising like summer noon.

“…”

Still nothing—stubborn as a stone.

“Fine. Won’t come out? Then I won’t be polite,” Meng Yuting warned, grabbing an edge of the quilt and yanking, motion sharp as a flag snap.

Whoosh!

She flung the blanket back; inside, Tang Coco lay curled, forearms crossed over her chest, eyes squeezed shut, lashes trembling like moth wings—she looked like a frightened little rabbit, small and soft under moonlight.

Pfft—

Both Meng Yuting and Gu Xin burst into laughter, the sound like bells shaking off dust.

“My god—when did you turn this girly?” Meng Yuting laughed, reaching out to poke her gently, fingertip a playful tap.

Coco didn’t answer; she kept her eyes closed and slowly reached for the quilt, fumbling like a blind cat, tugging it back as if nothing had happened.

“Aiyo, look at this little cutie,” Meng Yuting said, delight blooming like spring, anger melting away.

“Alright. If you’re that afraid to sleep with me, then you can sleep here tonight.”

“Really?” Coco shot upright in a pop, joy bright as a lantern lighting, voice chirping like a sparrow.

“…”

Meng Yuting and Gu Xin stared, speechless; was this really the same Coco from before, or a kitten in human skin?

“But…” Meng Yuting raised one finger, her smile a sly crescent.

“I’m sleeping here too.”

“…” Tang Coco went silent, gears turning like a waterwheel; she parsed the words carefully, then asked, voice wary as a deer.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course. I already discussed it with Xin’er,” Meng Yuting said, tone casual as pouring tea.

“Really?” This time Coco looked to Gu Xin, eyes pleading like night stars.

“Mm.” Gu Xin nodded, small and firm, her calm steady as a pond.

“Sorry to bother you!” Coco blurted, then sprang off the bed, bare feet thudding like raindrops, and bolted for the door.

“Where are you going?” A hazy silhouette filled the doorway, blocking her escape like a mountain; Coco looked up and saw Meng Yuting leaning on the frame, mouth curved, eyes amused as a cat.

“Hey! Using Anomaly Power is too much,” Coco said, exasperation popping like a bubble.

“Hmph. You little girl who can’t use Anomaly Power—be good,” Meng Yuting said, stepping closer one pace at a time, presence closing in like nightfall.