“Alright, alright—open up for some meat, okay?” Her voice rang like a spoon tapping porcelain.

At the table, Gu Xin and Meng Yuting flanked her like bookends in warm lamplight; the beauty between them wore a pink strip on her nose like a cherry petal.

She stared, helpless, at the lean slice hovering by her lips like a tiny raft, and she just wouldn’t let it drift in.

“I’m not eating! What am I, a kid? Don’t coax me! My ears are shutters in a storm!”

Tang Coco snapped, cheeks puffed like a squirrel’s, and somehow the anger sounded sweet as sugar glaze.

“Hey, hey, don’t sulk,” Meng Yuting laughed, hand ruffling her hair like a spring breeze. “Grown-ups don’t trip on flat ground, right?”

“Don’t touch me, or I’ll hit you,” Tang Coco warned, puffed up like a little pufferfish, eyes blazing like flint.

“You can’t beat me right now,” Meng Yuting sang, smile bright as a crescent moon.

“...”

Silence fell like a hand over a bell; truth stung—without her Anomaly Power before Meng Xiaoxiao, she couldn’t beat the strong-armed Meng Yuting.

“Ugh... we tried things forever, and you wrecked my favorite dress,” Meng Yuting sighed, palm to her brow like a tragic actress, disappointment pouring like rain.

That fall tore the gauze skirt open like a paper lantern—was it cheap silk, or was Tang Coco’s force a hammer?

“I’ve got a dress from my collection,” Gu Xin said, slipping a veggie onto Meng Xiaoxiao’s plate like a leaf on a stream. “Coco can try it later.”

“Thanks, Sister Xin,” Meng Xiaoxiao chimed, eyes bright as stars. “Oh, sis, can you take me tonight?”

“I’m afraid not,” Meng Yuting frowned, a crease like a fine blade. “They only gave our family two invitations.”

“Just two? The Mengs of Yanjing can’t get more?” Meng Xiaoxiao asked, curiosity tilting her head like a sparrow.

“The host’s a big overseas firm, Huacheng International,” Meng Yuting explained, voice steady as stone. “They’re investing in Ninghai, and every local family will jockey tonight.”

“Huacheng International... I think I’ve heard of them,” Meng Xiaoxiao murmured, finger under her chin like a painter’s brush.

“You—home’s counting on you to take over, and you play all day,” Meng Yuting sighed, helpless as a leaf. “You know nothing.”

“Aww, that’s why I’ve got you,” Meng Xiaoxiao grinned, sunshine bright. “I’ll be your little secretary.”

“I don’t want a secretary who only stirs trouble,” Meng Yuting shot her a look, blade-thin yet warm as tea.

Then Gu Xin noticed the hush beside her, a pocket of still water; Tang Coco poked her rice with chopsticks like tapping a drum, eyes far as clouds.

“Coco? Not to your taste?” Gu Xin asked, concern soft as a shawl.

“Huh? No... it’s good,” Tang Coco blinked, voice coming back like a kite tugging its string.

“Eh... looks like the fall knocked her silly,” Meng Xiaoxiao said, regretful as a fading lantern.

“...”

Tang Coco rolled her eyes, a silent pebble in a pond; she said nothing and ate, movements small as rain, while Gu Xin watched like a moon over water.

Half an hour later, lunch ended like a curtain falling.

“Coco, come with me. I need a word,” Gu Xin said, tone quiet as dusk.

“Okay,” Tang Coco replied, heart steady as a drum; knowing Gu Xin, she’d already guessed the script.

“Yuting, the rest is in your hands,” Gu Xin called, voice a ribbon in the air.

“Got it. You two go,” Meng Yuting answered, stacking bowls like tiles under sun.

Gu Xin led Tang Coco into her bedroom, door closing with a soft thud like snow; she turned, pushed Coco onto the bed like a wave, and leaned in like fire.

Her kiss landed heavy, hunger breaking like a dam; restraint had been a winter, and this breath burned like spring.

They hadn’t been together each day; after they reunited, they’d held each other once, but memory flickered like candles, and the change still felt like a dream.

On the surface, Gu Xin had accepted Tang Ke becoming a woman, yet wonder kept snagging like silk on a thorn.

Tang Coco didn’t resist; heat rose like wine, and she answered in kind, venting the long-pressed ache like thunder split from cloud.

They kissed and kissed, nothing else, minutes stretching like honey; breath grew tight, and they finally parted like waves slipping from shore.

“Haa... haa...” Their breathing tangled in the air like drifting ribbons.

“How was that?” Gu Xin asked, lips curved like a hook, cheeks flushed like peach skin.

“Still as irresistible as ever,” Tang Coco said, sweetness blooming like osmanthus on her tongue.

“Is that so? Someone else is the same too,” Gu Xin smiled, eyes bright as lake light. “New body, same infuriating temperament.”

“Hm? What’d I do?” Tang Coco frowned, puzzled as a cat.

“Old you bottled everything up,” Gu Xin pouted, a tiny storm. “I always had to push before you’d open your heart.”

“...”

Silence pressed like snow; guilt pricked like needles.

“Alright. Tell me—what’s wrong? You’ve been carrying clouds on your face,” Gu Xin said, voice warm as tea.

“...”

Eyes closed, struggle rippled like a caught fish; Gu Xin waited, still as a pine.

At last, Tang Coco spoke, words dropping like stones. “Xin’er... I think... I saw my mother.”

“...”

Gu Xin blinked, stunned like a bird mid-flight; then she asked, voice careful as lace, “Where? Are you sure? If I’m right, you don’t remember her face.”

“Yes,” Tang Coco said, gaze deep as a well. “I don’t know what she looks like. But Hong Wei told me her name, so I searched.”

“I found her tied to Huacheng International, the company she runs,” she added, each word a bead on a string.

“Huacheng International! You mean... Su Xinhua?” Gu Xin’s surprise rang like a struck bell.

“Yeah. Hong Wei gave me that exact name,” Tang Coco said, calm as earth.

“So that’s why you reacted like that that day,” Gu Xin murmured, memory lighting like lanterns—the moment they met Su Xinhua.

“And that’s why you’re going with Yuting tonight,” she said, the thought settling like dew.

“Yes. I want to be sure... whether it’s really her,” Tang Coco answered, resolve sharp as frost.

“Mmm... I get it,” Gu Xin said, worry threading like smoke. “But how will you tell her? You’re not in a man’s body anymore.”

“Actually, I suspect my mother knows something about my change,” Tang Coco said, the guess rising like mist.

“How could she? She’s ordinary—wait,” Gu Xin stopped, eyes widening like dawn. “She’s not ordinary.”

“Yes. You noticed, right?” Tang Coco’s voice was steady as a rail. “She claimed she was thirty-nine, yet her face looked too young—beyond good skincare.”

“I suspect she’s an Abnormal,” she said, truth sparking like flint. “And the watch tied to my transformation is a pair.”

“One was my father’s—it’s with me,” she continued, words neat as chess moves. “The other is with my mother. If she’s truly my mother, she can accept me as a woman.”

“...”

“Then it’s possible,” Gu Xin said after a beat, thought flowing like a creek.

“But be careful tonight,” she added, brows knitting like twined thread. “If she isn’t your mother, she’s your enemy.”

“Isn’t it odd she’s investing in small Ninghai right now?” Gu Xin asked, suspicion flickering like a shadow.

“I’ve thought of that,” Tang Coco nodded, eyes bright as steel. “She might know I’m here; I could be prey walking into a snare.”

“But this is my chance—to learn why I changed,” she said, resolve ringing like a bell. “Even if it’s dangerous, I have to try.”

“Sigh... you still haven’t changed,” Gu Xin said, shaking her head like a willow, helpless and fond.

“Haha, of course not. I’m your husband,” Tang Coco crowed, pride bright as a banner.

“Ooh, my husband is gorgeous,” Gu Xin laughed, teasing light as wind; she peeled the bandage from Coco’s nose like lifting a petal.

She’d noticed the bruise fading fast, vanishing like frost in sun.

“Since hubby’s fine, let’s get changed,” Gu Xin said, eyes glinting like stars.

“Changed? Into what?” Tang Coco blinked, wary as a cat at a bath.

“Yeah. Remember? I’ve got a dress I’ve kept for ages—my co-llec-tor’s piece,” Gu Xin sang, every syllable a sparkle.

“...”

Regret flooded like ink; Tang Coco knew she’d strutted right into it.