“Surprised, right? That woman hits like steel wrapped in silk, and the internet’s a blank wall—no photos at all. I’m dying to see what a force like her looks like,” Meng Yuting said, her tone light as spring wind.

A chill rippled through Tang Coco’s chest like a pebble hitting a pond; her guesses clicked into place like gears.

“Right... she is...” The thought rang in her head like a muted bell.

“Hm? Are you even listening?” Meng Yuting pinched Tang Coco’s nose like a playful cat.

“Uh... I heard you, don’t pinch,” Tang Coco said, her voice floating thin as mist.

“Then why the daydreaming?” Meng Yuting’s gaze was a teasing spark.

“I was thinking... when you see her, you’ll be stunned,” Tang Coco said, heart fluttering like a sparrow.

“Oh? Why?” Meng Yuting’s curiosity curled like smoke.

“You’ll know when you meet her,” Tang Coco said, words tucked away like a sealed letter.

“Ugh... fine,” Meng Yuting sighed, like leaves settling after wind.

“Our company’s trying to work with her too. So far, their side’s quiet as snow. But they’re holding a meet-and-greet in a few days, so we’ll try then,” Meng Yuting added, voice steady as a drawn bow.

“A meet-and-greet? When?” Tang Coco asked, breath held like a paused string.

“Next weekend, if I remember right,” Meng Yuting said, counting dates like beads.

“Yuting, take me with you then,” Tang Coco said, resolve firm as a stone.

“Huh? You got business?” Meng Yuting’s eyes narrowed like a crescent moon.

“No... just—anyway, take me,” Tang Coco said, dodging like a fish in a stream.

“...”

“Alright, if you don’t want to say it, I won’t ask,” Meng Yuting said, letting it fall like rain off eaves.

“But...” Her gaze sharpened, a blade catching light. “I won’t ask for details, yet you’re hiding things again... hm?”

“Uh...” Tang Coco’s guilt pricked like a thorn.

“Looks like you need an unforgettable ‘lesson,’” Meng Yuting purred, smile wicked as a fox.

“Hey! W-wait...” Tang Coco flailed, laughter spilling like beads.

“Nope,” Meng Yuting said, pouncing like a kitten.

The room burst into playful chaos like fireflies dancing in dusk.

The next morning, Ye Yiyi, Gu Xin, and Li Muyan left Meng Xiaoxiao’s apartment at dawn light, heading to the new villa to set things up like nesting birds. Meng Yuting went to the company, busy as a hive. Tang Coco stayed home, the house quiet as a teacup pond, with Marilyn keeping her company—and one more, Meng Xiaoxiao.

“Marilyn, I stocked up on snacks yesterday like a little squirrel—want some?” Meng Xiaoxiao chimed, eyes bright as stars.

“Really!? Where?” Marilyn perked up like a sprout after rain.

“I’ll grab them,” Meng Xiaoxiao said, turning and darting away like a swift swallow.

She returned hugging a mountain of snacks, colorful as autumn markets. “Here.”

“Wow, Miss Xiaoxiao, you’re the best,” Marilyn beamed, joy bubbling like a spring.

“Alright, you play here. I’ve got something to talk about with your Sister Coco,” Meng Xiaoxiao said, voice gentle as a ribbon.

“Okay,” Marilyn replied, settling back like a cat in sunshine.

Meng Xiaoxiao tugged Tang Coco into her bedroom, urgency thin as a drawn thread.

“What’s wrong?” Tang Coco sat on the bed, her question soft as cotton.

“Ms. Tang Coco, did you forget me?” Meng Xiaoxiao huffed, anger puffing like a small storm.

“Hah? How could I forget you?” Tang Coco blinked, confusion drifting like fog.

“You did! Since my sister came back, you don’t chat with me like before. After that, you’ve been busy with all kinds of things, and you all hide it from me. You even stopped going to school... you don’t sit in class with me...” Her voice trembled, a lake rippling toward tears.

“...” The silence settled like a gray cloud.

“Seriously, you all really think I’m just a kid,” Meng Xiaoxiao muttered, the corners of her eyes glistening like dew.

Tang Coco paused, then drew her into a hug, warmth wrapping like a quilt. “Alright, don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad... just a little... sad,” Meng Xiaoxiao whispered, voice thin as rain.

“My bad, all my fault—I didn’t spend enough time with you,” Tang Coco said, guilt heavy as wet sand.

“You’re moving out tonight. We won’t see each other every day. When I think about that... I just...” Her words broke, a string catching.

“...” The ache in Tang Coco’s chest spread like ink in water.

“Okay. Today I won’t do anything else. I’ll follow your plan, no questions asked. And when I go back, I’ll attend school properly,” Tang Coco said, promise clear as a bell.

“Really... anything?” Meng Xiaoxiao lifted her head, eyes shining like morning stars.

“Of course. But promise me—no traps like last time,” Tang Coco said, wary as a cat at a doorway.

“Deal! I’ll go get stuff,” Meng Xiaoxiao chirped, darting off like a breeze.

She returned with an armful of anime costumes, colors fluttering like festival flags.

“I usually wear them myself for fun. Today, I want to see you wear them,” she said, hope bright as a lantern.

“...” Looking at the pile, Tang Coco felt a prick of regret, shame creeping like a blush. She didn’t even like anime, and the outfits felt like walking under a thousand eyes.

“Alright,” she said at last; Meng Xiaoxiao’s expectant gaze was a tether, soft as silk.

Across town, Ye Yiyi’s trio reached the new villa, the rooms half-furnished like a canvas with first strokes. Some pieces would be swapped, tastes shifting like seasons.

“Ms. Su, they’ve arrived,” Tiantian said in the opposite villa, where Su Xinhua lounged on a sofa like a poised panther, a dossier open in her hands.

“Oh? Did she come?” Su Xinhua’s voice was calm, a still pool.

“No, but another girl did, and she’s very pretty,” Tiantian said, smile light as dawn.

“Then no need to go. Get back to work,” Su Xinhua said, dismissing with a wave like a falling leaf.

“Okay,” Tiantian replied, footsteps fading like footsteps on sand.

“Tang Coco... why so little in your file? And the last update lines up with his disappearance,” Su Xinhua murmured, thoughts winding like ivy.

She stood and took a watch from the side, holding it to her chest like a small sun. “Shoucheng... you should’ve told me,” she said, sorrow washing in her eyes like a quiet tide. Her fingers tightened around the watch, grip firm as a vow.

“If that’s how it is... I’ll find the answer myself,” she said, turning toward the door like an arrow released.

Night drifted in like ink. Ye Yiyi’s group still hadn’t returned to Meng Xiaoxiao’s place. After a day of play, Meng Xiaoxiao was spent, two of them curled on the bed like nesting doves. Tang Coco held her, and the girl still wore a blue-and-white anime school uniform, crisp as sea and sky. In her arms, Meng Xiaoxiao slept, breath steady as a tide. Tang Coco patted her back, slow as a lullaby.

Restless, the thought of Su Xinhua rose again, a moth circling a lamp. Scenes of meeting her flickered in Tang Coco’s mind like passing lanterns, and the more she thought, the less she could lay it down.

She eased her arm free from under Meng Xiaoxiao’s head, feather-light as falling ash. She didn’t bother changing; she went downstairs, moon-white legs flashing like porcelain. In the living room, Marilyn was still watching TV, glow soft as a pond.

“Marilyn, I want to ask you something,” Tang Coco said, voice low as a night wind. In the old days, she could’ve spoken to Marilyn mind-to-mind, clean as a bell. With her power sealed, that thread was cut like a snapped kite string. Marilyn could fix it in a heartbeat, but Tang Coco didn’t want that; she felt it was time to set some things down and stay by the people at hand, like a cup set quietly on a table.

“Mm? What is it?” Marilyn asked, eyes steady as amber.

“You... don’t know anything about the Fate Clock?” Tang Coco asked, the name heavy as thunder behind clouds.

“Oh, that,” Marilyn said, words rolling like distant surf. “The Fate Clock’s a high-tier existence. Even I, a traveler from another world, have to follow its arrangements. Otherwise I wouldn’t have chosen to attach myself to a man at the start. As for why you became a girl later... I think the Fate Clock knew that all along.”

“...” The truth pressed on Tang Coco’s heart like a mountain’s shadow.

“The Fate Clock... oh no—the watch!” The realization struck like lightning. She’d left her father’s watch at Ye Yiyi’s old villa, and that villa was rubble now, dust on the wind.

“No—Xiaoxiao’s car is downstairs. I have to check it!” she blurted, feet already moving like arrows.

Without caring about the outfit clinging to her like summer clouds, she sprinted out, breath slicing the night like a blade.

“Uh... going out dressed like that, really?” Marilyn said to the empty doorframe, helpless as a sigh.