Oh! There he is. There he is.

Nana Toki had wandered the shopping street with Mengmeng Feng until the sun bled west, when a shop of plush dolls flashed her a view of the fashionably late Protagonist Lord.

“Sister An! What are you looking at?”

Mengmeng came over hugging a brown bear, her mood clear as a blue sky after an afternoon of browsing with Nana.

Even the sting from Yiwei Yang rejecting her had blown away like mist at dawn.

Yeah—sticking close to a mature, steady woman feels like sitting under an old pine, the shade just settles you.

“Huh? Isn’t that Yiwei?”

Bear in her arms, Mengmeng peered at a Michelin restaurant’s brass-lit door, where Yiwei stood with a phone pressed to his ear like a cold blade; he didn’t notice the doll shop’s window at all.

“That your boyfriend?”

Nana’s mouth curved in a half-smile. “Looks pretty thoughtful, huh? Dinner with you tonight.”

“N-no… I didn’t get any text.”

Her cheeks flushed; she checked her phone, the screen pale as ice—no message from Yiwei.

“He told me he had other things this afternoon, said I should go home. He’d make it up next time.”

Before her words fell, a mature, sultry woman strode up to Yiwei, heels slicing through the evening like sharp petals.

They met and wrapped each other in a hot embrace, sparking like lovers who forget the world.

Nana was about to speak. Mengmeng, clutching the bear, stared through the glass at Yiwei and that woman sliding into the restaurant, her gaze drifting like a leaf, her face lonely as an empty bench.

Yiwei hadn’t said the afternoon “busy” meant dinner with another woman.

“Sister An, I feel a little unwell. I want to go home and rest.”

She set the teddy back on the counter, light sinking from her cheeks like dusk, rims reddening like frost; Nana saw the hurt cutting deep.

Yet Mengmeng wore a brave mask thin as paper, saving her boyfriend’s pride.

“Miss Mengmeng… are you alright?”

Nana had guessed the blow would be heavy, but she hadn’t expected Mengmeng to swallow it for Yiwei’s sake, needles hidden under her tongue.

Isn’t the normal arc storming over to demand answers?

Going straight home—what kind of move is that!

Is this the urban-world protagonist halo at work, that invisible plot armor?

Too strong.

“I’m fine, Sister An.”

Mengmeng forced a porcelain-crisp smile. “Just not feeling well. Sorry for making you worry.”

“It’s because of your boyfriend, right?”

Nana wouldn’t indulge the dodge; she peeled the lie like a husk.

“Y-Yiwei’s just having dinner with his employer. Why should I be mad?” She turned her eyes away, voice thin as paper. “I heard he’s doing bodyguard work, living at someone else’s house. If it’s only that… I’m not going to get angry.”

“How about sending a message to ask?”

Nana soothed her with a feather-light pat. “I don’t think your boyfriend’s the type to ignore his girl’s feelings. He must have his reasons.”

“But what if it’s not like you say?”

Her expression dimmed like a clouded moon. “Will I make trouble for him? What if I leave a bad impression and he loses the job?”

“If you don’t ask, you’ll never know what happens behind your back, right?”

From her hidden space, Nana pulled a tissue and dabbed the tears circling Mengmeng’s eyes like little planets.

“Since you don’t want to ask, let’s keep watching. See if Mr. Yang calls you.”

“Eh?”

Mengmeng froze like a deer in lamplight.

“Keep watching?”

She didn’t quite understand.

“We’ll stay in the shadows and watch what your boyfriend does next.” Nana’s smile was warm as lantern light. “If it’s just an employer, they’ll eat and go home. No need to sorrow over this.”

“Is that… so…”

The idea tugged at Mengmeng like a moth toward a lamp.

Deep down, she didn’t want the thread of her bond with Yiwei to snap.

If it really was just an employer…

She stared at the restaurant door, eyes trying to pierce walls like needles.

Nana’s gaze was different—gentle on the surface, playful underneath, a cat watching a clockwork toy.

…

“Yueyue, what did you want to tell me today?”

After he and Huaiyue Qin took their seats and the menus rustled like glossy leaves, Yiwei asked during the quiet after ordering.

“Is Kaiwei planning to move on you again? Tell me, I’ll go teach him a lesson right now!”

Last time, Huaiyue had gone alone to Kaiwei’s dinner. A snake of poison hid in her wine; if she hadn’t sensed it early, she’d have been forced under his hand.

“Of course not. Don’t get so heated.”

Huaiyue poured him half a glass of red wine, sunset sliding into crystal, and snorted a laugh at his fury. “I just want you to accompany me to a gala this Saturday. No need for all that killing aura.”

“There are too many jackals chasing my Yueyue moon. Gotta guard what needs guarding.”

Yiwei, a bit sheepish, scrubbed his hair like straw. “If it’s just a gala, no problem. I’ll go with you.”

“Really?”

She sipped, a rose stain on her lip, and smiled. “I’m afraid the ladies will steal your soul.”

“No way. I only like you, Yueyue!”

He popped up to pledge, words cracking like firecrackers. “None of them are as pretty as my Yueyue.”

“You slick tongue. I heard you’re guarding for the Si Family lately?”

Laughing, she poked his forehead and motioned him down, then refilled her half glass, asking like it was nothing, the bottle’s eye glinting like a snake’s.

“If you go to the gala with me, what about the heiress you’re watching at home?”

“Uh… Yueyue, how did you know?”

He nearly slid off his chair, a puppet catching itself mid-step. “Relax, I’m not into cold women!”

“Why the theatrics? I’m not a man-eating tigress.” Huaiyue rolled her eyes like a breeze. “As for Qingyu Si, go ahead boldly. I don’t mind.”

“Huh?”

Hands propping table and chair, he looked comical beyond words. “What did you just say?”

“I’m saying go win the Si Family’s young lady. I don’t care if you have women besides me.”

Unhurried, Huaiyue tasted the dish the waiter brought, words smooth as satin. “Even if I forbid it, you’ll leave debts of passion anyway. Better I’m magnanimous; it’s good for us both. Saves me the headache when a flock of strangers pops up.”

“But… but… isn’t that bad?”

Joy burst too sudden, and Yiwei stammered, sun flashing through clouds. “Our country’s monogamous…”

“What’s bad about it?”

She set down knife and fork, the little swords crossing. “Don’t you already have that campus belle girlfriend? The whole school knows. If I didn’t bring it up, when were you going to tell me? Monogamy’s fine—just make it clear you’re marrying me.”

Huaiyue felt secure on the throne in her mind.

She had her own moth-in-silk schemes.

If Yiwei could conquer Qingyu Si, then bullying her later would be as easy as snapping fingers.

She’d long wanted to tear that indifferent mask of a face to shreds.

Pushing Yiwei forward like a chess piece suited her.

“But Yueyue, your Qin family’s always at odds with the Si Family, right?” Yiwei asked, small voice like a reed. “If I take down the Si heiress, won’t your dad skin me alive?”

“Relax. As long as you start something with Qingyu Si and discard her, my dad won’t touch you. He’s eager for the Si side to stumble.”

Huaiyue nibbled dessert without a care, treating it like a casual thing. “And don’t fear Si’s revenge. In X City their hand tries to cover the sky, but our Qin family doesn’t fear them. Shady things never make it to the stage; they stay under the boards. The Si are the same.”

“Then I better spoil my Yueyue wife tonight, or the vinegar jar will tip.”

Yiwei mulled it; the Qin family’s ledger weighed like stone, and the Si’s stains were obvious.

He heh-heh grinned, his gaze sliding to her wine-red low-cut dress, eyes greedy as a cat.

“Incorrigible.”

Huaiyue saw his gaze dip and swatted him with shy heat, hand fluttering like a fan. “Wait till we’re in a room; look your fill then. Why rush?”

“Heh, I can never get enough of my Yueyue.”

Cheeky, his grin curved like a crooked moon.

After a velvet-lit dinner, Yiwei and Huaiyue walked into a hotel, their banter trailing like smoke.

Following close, Nana watched Yiwei wrap an arm around Huaiyue, swagger bright as a torch, and her crescent smile sharpened.

Truly a lower-half thinker—give him a golden finger and he still doesn’t change.

This ship was bound to sink.

“So… Yiwei doesn’t really like me.”

Hidden behind a shop, Mengmeng watched her boyfriend enter a hotel with a stranger’s sultry silhouette, and her heart cracked like glass.

She couldn’t make sense of it—she didn’t look any worse than that woman, so why did Yiwei reach for others?

“Sister An… maybe I’m not meant for love.”

Her small hands clutched the right hem of Nana’s white maid skirt, fingers digging like little claws; her head dipped, and her voice rasped like wind over reeds. “Why doesn’t Yiwei like me…”

Her voice grew hoarser, and at last the heat in her chest burst, tears pounding out like a sudden rain on tin.

“I’m not worse than other girls…”

“Why does he still sneak off to find other girls behind my back!”

“Did I do something wrong to make him angry? I can change…”

Even seeing the betrayal with her own eyes, Mengmeng turned the knife inward and never raised it at him.

A girl like this, fated by this world’s Heaven’s Plot to marry a scum male lead—Nana felt her temper crack like ice.

“It’s okay, it’s okay… Miss Mengmeng shouldn’t waste pearls of tears on a man like that.”

Nana stroked her head, voice warm as tea. “You just haven’t met the right person. Forget this dog of a man.”

“But…”

“Enough with the buts. You’ll ruin that lovely face.”

From her hidden space, Nana pulled a few white-leaf tissues and pushed them into Mengmeng’s hands, cutting off her next word. “Wipe your tears first. Watch Sister An get you revenge, alright?”

With that, Nana Toki fished her phone from her pocket and called Zixia Chen at the precinct.

Anyway, the male lead’s ships had been torpedoed one by one; don’t wait on this pair either.

The moment the words left her lips, the line clicked alive like a spark in dry grass.

“Hello? Officer Chen? Yeah, it’s me, Shutong An—the maid who had that little ‘tea’ at your station last time. Mm‑hm, that’s me.”

“Crime? No crime. I’m calling to report someone, waving a red flag in broad daylight.”

“What? You don’t take chit‑chat on duty? That’s cold as well water. I’m a law‑abiding, justice‑marching, cute maid‑chan here! How’s this chit‑chat?”

“Hey, hey, don’t hang up in a rush. This is a real report, solid as a brick on the table. There’s organized prostitution at the XX Hotel—yeah, prostitution! Large scale, like a net cast wide. I swear by my maid’s code. In minutes, two or three groups have gone in, waves slipping through the door. It’s absolutely prostitution; if not, I’ll eat my frilly headband.”

“What? You’re recording this call? Fine—record away. I, Shutong An, stand by my words, like a blade set on an anvil.”

“You should get over here fast. Best case, roll out the whole city’s units, like a storm closing a net, so they don’t slip away.”

“I’ll be right here waiting, like a lantern on the doorstep. Hurry over.”