Ding-dong—the bell chimed like a silver drop into quiet water.

Tang Coco pressed the bell; inside, footsteps stirred like sparrows in a bamboo grove.

Click—the lock snapped like brittle ice underfoot.

“Sister Coco, what brings you here?” Her surprise flared like a lantern just lit.

The door swung open; it was Meng Xiaoxiao, that little minx, her face blank as fresh paper.

“Hehe, surprised?” Her smile curled like a fox tail.

Tang Coco let a laugh spill like warm tea.

“What are you even here for?” Her words poked like a twig.

“What, not welcoming me?” Her tone dipped like a cloud before rain.

“No! Of course I am!” Her hands flew like startled birds.

With that, Meng Xiaoxiao hugged Tang Coco, blatantly copping a feel like a cat kneading cream.

Silence pooled like ink in a well.

“Who’s home?” Her gaze swept the room like a slow fan.

Tang Coco stepped in; the place felt empty, a quiet room with Xiaoxiao alone like a lone candle.

“Just me and my sister. Lulu wanted to stroll, so Gu Xin took her out.” Her voice drifted like a kite string.

“That little gremlin...” The words sighed like wind through reeds.

Talking about Lulu, Tang Coco went speechless, irritation pricking like nettles—she’s lived lifetimes, yet plays a child.

“You’re here.” Meng Yuting’s voice glided out like moonlight from her room.

Meng Yuting stepped from her bedroom, and only then did Tang Coco notice the sisters in matching cream loungewear, a pair as pleasing as twin lilies.

“Mm.” Tang Coco’s nod was small, like a pebble dropped in a pond.

“Sis, why did you call Sister Coco here?” Xiaoxiao’s curiosity sparkled like fish scales.

“We’re heading out tonight.” Her words landed neat as folded paper.

“At night? Don’t tell me you’re getting a room...” Her grin tilted like a crooked moon.

The air stalled again, heavy as still rain.

“Hey! What’s in that head of yours?!” Meng Yuting tugged her ear like a stern crane pulling reeds.

“Figures, you’re the same.” Tang Coco muttered, mouth skewed like a brushstroke.

She kept it low, a thread of sound like silk, yet Meng Yuting caught it like a hawk.

“Hm? What did you say?” Her eyes flashed like flint.

“Ah... nothing.” Guilt pricked her like pins.

“The same as what?” Her gaze pressed in like storm clouds.

“N-no. You misheard.” Her voice wavered like heat over asphalt.

“Calling me the same as this little perv? Sounds like your skin’s itching for trouble~” Her smile prowled like a cat.

Meng Yuting let go of Xiaoxiao and closed in, step by step, like tide creeping over sand.

“Hey, hey! You!” Tang Coco’s warning flapped like a flag.

Irritation swelled like steam—back then, how dared Meng Yuting talk to her like that? Yet back then, she wouldn’t provoke this witch either.

“Xiaoxiao~ Your Sister Coco’s curves bloomed lately—interested in a look?” Her tone purred like silk over jade.

“Hey! I—I’m here on business!” Panic scuttled through her like a crab.

A bad premonition crawled up her spine like cold ants.

“Yes, yes! Sis always treats me best!” Xiaoxiao lit up like a firecracker.

The room held its breath like a held fan.

She had overlooked one thing from the start—the two before her were blood sisters, tight as braided rope.

“Come on, drag her to the bedroom to serve!” Meng Yuting’s hand sliced the air like a command fan.

At her wave, the two lunged at Tang Coco like twin swallows diving.

“Damn it!!” The curse burst like a thrown pebble.

She swore, but it did nothing; after a few thrashes like a hooked fish, she got hauled into the bedroom, and then...

Ahem—truth was, Meng Yuting only meant to spook her. She wanted Tang Coco to try on formal dresses for tonight’s banquet. She’d prepared a small wardrobe, and seized the chance to fit them—though, with fittings, a little handsy mischief was as natural as shadows at dusk.

Two hours later... Time had trickled like sand.

Hoo—hoo—hoo—her breath rasped like bellows.

Tang Coco lay sprawled on the bed, panting hard, a white strapless evening dress clinging like frost.

“Tell me... are you two monsters? After so long, you’re not even tired.” Her disbelief hung like steam.

She stared, speechless, as the Meng sisters pointed and debated over her like tailors at a loom.

“What do you think of this one?” The question floated like a paper boat.

“I think this one works best; those earlier ones...” Her judgment fell crisp as autumn leaves.

The two kept conferring, ignoring Tang Coco entirely, like monks counting beads.

Tap-tap-tap—heels approached like rain on stone.

Suddenly, the click of high heels came from outside; a figure appeared in the doorway like a cutout against light.

“What are you doing? Why didn’t anyone open the door... huh? Coco?” Her words spilled in, casual as a breeze.

It was Gu Xin, standing at the door with a bag of snacks like a market bundle.

“Gu Xin, perfect timing—help us choose which dress looks best on her.” Meng Yuting’s request glinted like a hairpin.

She spoke and hauled Tang Coco up from the bed, eager to swap dresses like turning a page.

“Stop, stop! No way—we’re doing this again?!” Her protest flared like a struck match.

The pause stretched thin like spun sugar.

“Alright, save it for later. I bought roast chicken, and it’s noon—let’s eat first.” Gu Xin’s kindness felt like warm soup.

“Then... fine... let’s eat first.” The sisters’ agreement fell like slack rope.

Meng Yuting and Meng Xiaoxiao drooped a little like wilting petals, while Tang Coco brightened like sunlight on water.

“Wow! Gu Xin, you’re the most considerate!” Her joy rang like a bell in spring.

Tang Coco rushed toward Gu Xin, excitement bubbling like a kettle—then her foot caught her long hem, and...

Bang!!! She hit the floor like a sack of rice.

Someone lay sprawled heavy on the floorboards like a fallen log.

Silence thunked down like a stone.

The three women stared wide-eyed at the figure on the ground, frozen like statues.