On the way back, Xiaodie kept chatting with me about my mom.

"Yi Yao, your mom has such a positive mindset," she said. "While you were out, she even peeled oranges for me. She’s the perfect mom."

"And she doesn’t seem sick at all—always cheerful. When playing Landlords, she acts like a little kid."

But my thoughts were far from Xiaodie.

After about half an hour of talking, I’d felt Mom had something to tell me. Yet with Dad there, she never spoke up.

I knew both my parents’ futures. But I couldn’t guess what Mom wanted to say then.

Dad’s words barely registered with me.

Like Liang Zhenyi, I’m stubborn. Once I consider someone a friend, I help them whenever I can—without expecting anything back.

These days, "friends" are all about utility.

After college, most people weigh if others are useful: "Will their personality hold me back?" "Can their connections benefit me?" "Will their luck make them rich?"

As Liang Zhenyi once said, "Help friends now, and they’ll help you later." But with that mindset, you were never true friends to begin with.

Honestly, Xiaodie’s been nothing but trouble since we met. Kidnapped one day, drugged another. Her moods shift constantly. Even I doubt we’re friends.

Maybe I just see my old self in her.

"Yi Yao! Yi Yao! What’s for dinner tonight?"

At the community square below Xiaodie’s apartment complex, she dragged me to the bustling market. Just as I’d guessed, she’d clearly never bought groceries before. She stood at the entrance, peering inside nervously.

"Depends what you like," I shrugged. "You’re treating anyway."

"Hmm… something good for my skin?"

Aren’t you already beautiful enough?

Whether from genetics or skincare, Xiaodie had flawless, porcelain skin. Yi Yao was similar—but I knew from memory she never used products.

Maybe from exercise?

"Any foods you hate?"

"None."

"Got it."

Skincare is part of wellness. Skin issues often mean internal toxins. Creams help superficially but don’t fix the root cause.

I was making this up. In my past life, I wasn’t a girl—I’d just worked at wellness centers and knew basics.

In the end, Xiaodie bought pig trotters, sour plums, soy milk, broccoli, and bananas on my advice.

"Pig trotters and chicken feet are rich in collagen," I explained. "They help with skin and aging."

Carrying bags into Huang Yingdie’s small villa, I found the living room chaotic.

Clothes—and even underwear—were strewn across the sofa. Lamps and tables lay crooked. Dust and crumpled paper covered the floor. Nothing felt like a home.

Last time I visited, it wasn’t like this. Xiaodie wasn’t perfect, but she valued cleanliness. Her room had been spotless.

"Because of Dad’s situation, inspectors will come soon," she explained, noticing my confusion. "I might move to the new house. So I’m packing early."

Is that so…

But in your heart, this place isn’t a "home" anymore.

Like that time you got drunk and chose an enemy’s house over returning here.

"What will you do?"

I took the ingredients to the kitchen. After checking the tools, I started washing produce and utensils.

"If Dad doesn’t pull through, he’ll be detained. I’ll have to stay at the new house."

"No other relatives?"

"My grandma, who raised me, passed last year. Other relatives are avoiding me since this happened."

"I see…"

"Never mind that! Yi Yao, teach me to cook. I want to feed myself at the new place!"

What should’ve been lighthearted felt heavy after hearing her reality.

Xiaodie was born December 13, 2000. Technically, she was just a 15-year-old girl. Growing up in a single-parent home, she rarely saw her dad. Now, her small shoulders bore this burden alone.

Too many parents dream of prodigies. Ask yourselves: how much hope have you truly given your child?

After dinner, amid Xiaodie’s endless praise for my cooking, Card Brother called.

"Yi Yao? It’s me. Are you with Xiaodie?"

I glanced at the girl happily munching pig trotters. "Yes."

"Come to training together later. Tell her to dress properly."

"Properly?" I was confused.

"Just avoid skirts that might flash. Tonight’s special—we’ve gathered the Black Dragon Society and Jiangnan Association."

"Got it."

Hanging up, I eyed Xiaodie. "This outfit should work."

She looked up, puzzled. "Huh?"

She wore denim overalls like the ones from our plaza meetup. They made her look younger but were modest enough.

"Nothing. We’re going somewhere. Your Jiangnan people will be there."

"About the spy?"

"Spy?"

"You know—the mole who hired laborers to harass your dad’s fruit stall and ruin our ties."

I’d almost forgotten.

"Not sure. Probably important. Done eating?"

"Yep! All your fault, Yi Yao—it was too delicious."

…

At the arcade’s basement level, Card Brother, Ouyang Earth, and others waited. The empty space buzzed with new arrivals.

"Whoa! I never knew this huge arcade belonged to the Black Dragon Society!"

"Yeah! With internet cafes so pricey, I’d game here daily if I’d known."

Floral Snake and Liang Zhenyi were playing pool with Yi Yao’s old "brothers." They waved. "Yo, Yi Yao! Long time!"

"Long time."

I had no real bond with them. But since they’d been with Yi Yao over a year, I’d count them as friends.

"Card Brother."

At the card table, Card Brother still looked like a nouveau riche playboy. He didn’t glance up as we approached, focused entirely on his poker hand.

"Why call us here?"

This basement required clearance. Was it safe to bring so many outsiders?

"Oh, nothing much. Just letting you know the Black Dragon Society and this building are yours now."

He casually slapped down a pair of Aces. "Call."

"You… what?"

My hand nearly spilled tea from shock.

"The Black Dragon Society is yours. This arcade too. Long Fei always planned for you to lead the brothers once you matured. But you grew faster than expected." Ouyang Earth handed me a bank card, grinning. "Since you’re underage, I skipped the paperwork. The manager and owner are allies. Just step in for issues they can’t handle."

"What is this?"

I took the card, seeing my name clearly. "Why this sudden decision?"

"Ouyang can’t be involved—he’s military. Shangjing City’s situation is tense. We’re stretched thin."

Card Brother ended his hand with two Jokers, then removed his hat. "Or see it as a Card Clan duty. We teach you martial arts; you manage the shop."

But this was a hands-off role. Owner and manager existed—I’d just collect money?

"Can I refuse?"

I had enough on my plate.

Ouyang Earth scratched his head. "Well… if you really won’t, at least handle the Black Dragon Society. You know Floral Snake and the others…"

"That’s fine."

Managing the "brothers" was manageable.

We had no strict hierarchy. We joked and fought—Floral Snake used to brawl with Long Fei. Now they got along fine.

"Settled then. But tonight’s really about Xiaodie."

"Me?" The girl shrank back, unsure of Card Brother’s status. "What about me?"

Card Brother smiled faintly, studying her fair face. "What do you think of Huang Qinghao?"