Awkward, to put it mildly—like wet socks in summer.

By rights, six years ago Shen Shanshan was a rookie merc. Age and creds were on par. Yet, in front of her, Yekase felt a notch lower, like a stray dog under a porch light.

Was it because she’d quietly seen through every lie—from name to face—like moonlight peeling thin lacquer?

Probably not. It felt more like that instinctive fear before an unreadable, mature woman—like fog rolling over a cliff edge.

She’s trouble. She’s a bad, bad woman—thorns under silk.

Yekase grabbed a crust of bread and swirled it through creamy soup, letting it soak like a sponge in rain.

“I mean, Master Ye—”

“What the hell is ‘Master Ye’?” Her tone snapped like a twig.

“Is it bias or pure vibe? To me, you radiate craft—engineer through and through, steel gleam under oil. Calling you ‘teacher’ feels off… Right, it’s ‘intellectual charm.’”

…Yeah, just like that—frost on glass.

“What do you mean all over? Fine when I’m in a lab coat, but now—where’s the STEM in this outfit?” Her voice bristled like a cat’s fur.

“Maybe I read people too well. Right now you wear that rational, funeral face. But in a bedroom—what happens then—”

“Hey!” The word cracked like a whip.

Shen Shanshan’s brows shot up, startled, like a cat hearing thunder.

“That offends you that much? Last survey said sixty percent of girls had bi tendencies—no way. Don’t tell me it’s me you hate?” Her smile rippled like stones tossed in a pond.

Not exactly… Her temples throbbed like drums. “It’s like meeting a long-time online friend, and they jump straight to that thing. How would I say yes? That’s basically a hookup.” Her disgust clanged like a slammed door in rain.

“Huh? If it’s you, I’d say yes.” She struck the match in daylight, and let it fizzle.

“Stop projecting your edge cases onto people! I’m reserved, okay?” Lace tied tight around her tone.

“I don’t buy it,” she said, wind cutting reeds.

Shen Shanshan slid her head across the table, chin up in a teasing angle, looking at Yekase like a hawk under low clouds.

“Someone who’s crawled through Sinister Organizations for at least six years telling me she’s a pure white lotus? Even if you’re my bro… my sis, that persona’s paper-thin, paint on rust.”

Put that way, it does sound true… like a mirror catching dust.

But heaven and earth as witness, before she turned into whatever she is now, Yekase really was a virgin—untouched snow.

Now… who knows anymore, footprints blurred by rain.

“All these years, never… one crazy night? Like, drunk and chased by a rival org, gunning a car down a dawn street. Or reaching the mark and finding the last enemy was an old brother. Or getting hired by a nemesis for a suicide job…”

“Oh, that’s the kind you mean.” Mist cleared a little.

“Got any?”

“No.” The word fell flat, like a dead leaf.

“Tsk.” A pebble flicked, quick and sharp.

Shen Shanshan clicked her tongue loud, a spark in dry grass. “Fake prude! I’m done playing.”

“Sis, I’m a developer, I fix gear. Field thrills aren’t exactly my lane. Ask me about crunch so hard I nearly dropped dead—there’s plenty.” Her voice trudged like midnight through cement.

Yekase sighed through it. The family diner hummed with other patrons, warm as a beehive; she didn’t want too much Sinister Organization talk here, but Shen Shanshan had zero scruples, like wind baring branches.

She needed a way to make her forget the bi thing and the “glorious moments”—two dumb threads—like cutting fishing lines before they tangle.

Right—talk about the weather!

“It’s been so hot lately.” Cicadas screamed between the words.

It slipped out, steam from a kettle.

She got a look like she’d grown a second head.

Shen Shanshan lifted a fat chopstick’s worth of wasabi octopus, chewed twice on purpose, then swallowed. The wasabi hit instantly; her face puckered like a chrysanthemum in frost.

“Ugh…” She recovered with effort, breath like a hiccuped flame. “Your awkward chat choked me.”

“You swallowed that yourself!”

“Speaking of hot—” Her grin warmed like a stove. She veered the topic back. “Hottest headlines? The World’s Number One Martial Arts Tournament final confirmed as fixed. Plus some Japanese org secretly tinkering with nukes, blasting a chunk off Hokkaido—‘Japan Sinks,’ they say…” Smoke over cold water.

“Guess some people long for the extraordinary, moths to lightning. Not me.” Her tone stayed dusk-flat.

“And today’s drop: last night at Drum Tower, an internal feud. One side rolled out heavy mechs, but before they moved, a mystery woman called Mechbreaker tore it down.” A storm snapping scaffolds.

“Mm, heard that too.” The words drifted like ash.

“Do you know this Mechbreaker?”

“Huh?” A startled blink, like a bird in sudden light.

Crap, that nickname even pops up here… weeds between tiles.

Yekase forced a smile, paper over flame. “Don’t know her. Why think I would?”

“You all study mechs. I figured you’d see the footage and clock which insider it was.”

“I can’t do that…” Like reading wind from stone.

There’s footage? Damn. Did one of those men in black with sunglasses sneak a record? A mosquito whining in the dark.

“But why are you looking for her?”

At Yekase’s natural counter, Shen Shanshan didn’t answer right away, blade held just off skin.

She took a spoonful of rice in broth, then cleaned the spoon and flicked it like a weapon, twice. “That knife work—too airy, too confident. Definitely a master. I just thought… ah, it’d be great to know her. She doesn’t look like a hero. In our merc world, one more friend can be the line between life and death.” Her words fell like dice.

“Oh… I didn’t catch that. She’s that good, huh.” Wind hiding its teeth.

The praise made Yekase float a little; she buried her face in the bowl to hide a smile, a duck tucking under water.

“Fine. Since you don’t know, maybe there’s no fate. What are we doing this afternoon? Movie?” She tossed options like petals.

“We’re discussing tomorrow’s cooperation!” Maps laid on a table.

“Then KTV.” A padded cave for secrets.

“Huh?”

“Private rooms are soundproof; easier to talk. Relax, your Sister Shen’s treating.” Velvet around voices.

Yekase stared, doubtful, a cat narrowing its eyes.

Shen Shanshan shrugged. “Clean KTV.” Clear water, no mud.

“Fine… I’ll call our lead.” A bell rung in fog.

She swore in her chest, cold as iron: she would not hand Jiang Bailu over to this hustler.

But KTV… Yekase’s last memory was freshman orientation. She sat in a corner the whole time, glued to her phone, leaving with not one name, mist slipping past faces.

Should she call Ling Yi to liven it up? A candle into dusk.

The thought vanished a second later, a spark pinched out.

It even startled her—how for a heartbeat she had let the off-key fantasy of “a few people singing together” feel real, a paper lantern mistaken for a moon.

The call connected, a line cast over water.

“Doctor? What now? Mass-production units are fine. Roze rebooted successfully; we’re still tuning. Office traps are almost—” Gears creaking under load.

“Come to KTV.”

…………

The long silence said it all, heavy as summer thunder.

“Don’t get me wrong. I found you a badass external support. She wants to meet in a KTV room and go over tomorrow’s tactics. The address is…”

Yekase looked to Shen Shanshan, checking a compass.

“Wave-Riding KTV, third floor, 133 Dingxiang Road.”

“133 Dingxiang Road. We’re heading out soon.”

“…Fine. Hope this isn’t a trick to make me sing for you.” Her doubt pawed the ground like a wary deer.

She sounded unconvinced, shadow twitching at the treeline.

Yekase didn’t know how Jiang Bailu saw her now—an overlay of “sharp engineer” and “unreliable mentor,” sometimes one brighter, sometimes the other, twin moons trading places.

Clearly, “Yekase bored stiff, calling her to ditch work and hang out” was plausible. Fine… maybe it even happened yesterday—chalk still on the board.

“I’m full.” Shen Shanshan set down her chopsticks, a swallow folding its wings.

“Then we go?”

“Go.”

They paid and headed downstairs. Shen Shanshan led Yekase into the underground garage, to a white two-seater, sleek as a fish.

“Oh, you’ve got a car…” Her tone skimmed like foam.

“Engineers should make more than me, right?” She laughed like gravel.

“The office’s close to home, so I never bought or learned. Plus I’m seventeen; can’t drive.” A sapling not yet licensed.

“That persona still alive, huh…” She smirked, a blade gleaming.

Maybe this was one thing Yekase clung to; fine, I’ll play along, Shen Shanshan thought. She popped the lock, and Yekase slid into the passenger seat, belt on, like a well-trained bird.

Shen Shanshan settled behind the wheel. “So, where does our seventeen-year-old teen queen go to school?” She tossed it like a leaf.

“Thanks for the invite. On paper I’m a junior at Heavenly Heart High School, but I haven’t gone a single day.” Her words drifted like dust in sun.

“No school, no youth, my ass.” She cut like a snapped kite string.

Shen Shanshan pulled out her chat wheel and spun it, a prayer wheel under her thumb.

[Are you mad?]

“So many dream of going back to school. You squat on the spot and don’t do the deed—what a waste.” Rain missing the field.

“Wasting youth is a kind of youth too!” Incense burned for the smoke.

Yekase shot back, a spark from flint.

Though, thinking twice, it’s true. Not to brag, but high school subjects were light drizzle to her. She could pass with eyes closed; pressure never lived there, like a roof shedding rain.

Now she’s idle most days, mind too foggy to grind dev work. Might as well go to school—and stay close to Ling Yi, ready to back her up, a shadow under a pine.

“True. I’m not like you, stitching networks to stay alive. Anyway, we’ve got time—plenty of it.” The river ran unhurried.

“Hey, don’t make it sound like I’ve got no skills and only eat off face.” Her pride bristled like thorns.

“Eating off gadgets isn’t that highbrow either, is it?” Tin over gold.

“Mmm-mmm-mmm…” Pressure cooker hum under a lid.

She let out a sound like Ling Yi’s—a pressure cooker murmur, heat trapped.

“Fine. I’ve got no talent for fighting, so I lean on things outside myself. Miles worse than that Mechbreaker.” A kite needing wind.

There it is again, a drumbeat under the ribs.

She hasn’t figured anything out… has she? Her eyes kept flicking to the passenger seat when she said those three words, sparrows peeking from eaves.

“On the conglomerate side, the current Head of Development—my friend Jiang Bailu—runs this operation. She majored in accounting, yet her heart beats only for development, a blade with one edge.”

“More single-minded than you?”

“Way more so. I bet even if you tossed her a dirty line, she wouldn’t react.” Rain on stone, no ripple.

“Damn, such people exist? Feels like we won’t get along.” Oil and water.

“Who says you need to get along?” Gears meshing only for work.

Better if they don’t. Yekase couldn’t picture this street-flavored boss with swagger thick as foot funk sticking to Jiang Bailu without horror blooming, mold swallowing bread.

Beyond the Triple Calamity folks, she had to keep eyes on Shen Shanshan too—never let the two of them be alone for even a second. After tomorrow’s fight sparks, would they cross paths in the industrial park tower? She didn’t dare imagine, wolves kept apart by thin fences.

At this point, there was only one way to carry out the ultimate plan to protect Jiang Bailu…

No matter the mask, no matter the stance, sails changing to catch the wind,

she had to show up in that office tower that no longer fit her face, and step back into that time capsule seeded with Sinister Organization bases, walking into an old storm.