"Lian'er is still so clingy with you."

Yeah. Like glue that won’t let go. And she’s such a narcissist—loves tormenting boys too scared to confess, making them sneak love letters instead.

"Mm."

"Sometimes watching you two makes me think you’re the real pair of sisters. Ow! Easy there—I was joking!" Sis Xixi complained from the sofa, her voice thick with mock resentment.

"Always hiding behind ‘just joking.’ Do girls really think that erases everything? At least throw in some fan service as an apology to show sincerity."

Crap. That slipped out. Around Sis Xixi, I always unwind without thinking. Honestly, this home feels warm. If I weren’t a creep, I’d probably love it even more.

"Isn’t getting up close with my perfect body enough?"

"You’re just shamelessly ordering me to massage you."

"R-Really? So in your eyes, I’m just a cruel sister abusing her little brother?" Sis Xixi muttered, feigning heartbreak.

Sorry, but Xu Xian already pulled this reverse-psychology move on me today. "Flawless," I wanted to say—but my hands softened anyway. Same trick, wildly different effect. Fine, I admit it: feeling Sis Xixi’s soft, full curves under my palms almost heals my wounded soul.

Same slave labor, but this slave master actually pays in perks. These sugar-coated bullets sure are sweet...

Ouyang Xi flashed a V-sign behind her back. She lay sprawled on the living room sofa, her calves swinging lazily while I knelt behind her slender waist. The plush warmth beneath me was dangerously distracting.

"Right there—press harder, it’s fine. My neck’s killing me after hours at the computer these past days."

I shifted, placing my hands on her neck and kneading with alternating pressure. As a fellow desk slave, I knew exactly how it felt. Practice makes perfect, after all.

"Mmm, so good. I wish you’d come every day. Better yet—just move in!"

"Sorry. Xiaoyu’s still in her rebellious phase."

"Noticed. Hey, do you know what Mom and she were talking about in her room?"

Calling her stepmom "Mom" so casually? No wonder she’s a perfectionist—zero room for criticism. Xiaoyu will probably never spit out that word. I only call my stepdad "Uncle."

"No idea."

"Really? Or *really* no idea?"

"Really no idea."

Sis Xixi twisted to stare at my face, judging my sincerity. After a long pause, she grinned. "Heh heh heh♪ Poor little Xiaoyu~"

"Why that pitying tone out of nowhere?"

"Ever liked someone?"

My hands faltered before resuming their rhythm, pretending nonchalance.

"Your body’s way more honest than your mouth."

I knew I’d been caught—but did she have to phrase it so... lewdly?

"Say—just *say*—you’re so close to a girl that you can’t bring yourself to confess. Ever felt that?"

"Nope. I’d tell her before we got close, then try to get closer."

"So blunt!" Sis Xixi rarely teased like this. "But so *you*. Straight to the point, like a science major. Though most guys scare girls off by rushing in. As your wise, experienced sister, I’ll teach you: no warm-up, no foreplay—you’ll fail."

*Foreplay?* Can she stop talking like an adult film script? Sadly, her advice only works for normal people. The one I like isn’t normal—which makes me not normal either. I sighed. "No clue what you’re saying."

"Fine, fine. Xiaoyu’d kill me if I said more. What did Lian’er want earlier?"

"Gomoku."

"Huh? Not a video game?"

"You two are so disrespectful to gomoku! It’s a game! That’s like racial discrimination!"

"Hah?"

Did she genuinely exclude board games from "games"? Or think only mindless stuff like Snakes and Ladders suits gaming addicts? Isn’t that insulting to esports too?

I ended the massage session as Sis Xixi let out that cute, baffled "Hah?"—no way I’d get caught in this awkward position by anyone.

Ouyang Xi sat up groggily. "Why so quick? Extra time!"

For a second, I felt like I was in a shady massage parlor, catering to clients. "Extra time for your *sister*? You think this is some massage parlor? Do women even get those?"

"My sister’s your sister!" Sis Xixi propped her chin up, pondering. "Well... yeah, probably... wait, why am I discussing this with you, you pervert!"

"*You* treated me like a gigolo masseur first!"

She tilted her head, clearly thinking, *Aren’t you?*

"Aren’t you?"

She just said it. Blurted it out like a tavern brawler slamming down ale—zero regard for my feelings.

"You did that on purpose! Absolutely on purpose! Nothing hurts more than someone exposing your thoughts and shouting them out!"

Sis Xixi pressed her palms together, grinning sheepishly. "C’mon, I couldn’t resist teasing you after so long without your tsukkomi! I’m sorry—once more, just once more!"

Even Teletubbies-style baby talk wouldn’t work. I coldly rejected her request and flipped channels wildly, hunting for some greasy senior to numb my mind. That brat’s mental damage was too deep. Now that I knew about that "Evergreen Goddess" crap, school felt even worse. Are all high school guys blind?!

Sis Xixi pouted, flopping down like a salted fish beside me. "Fine. But Lan-zi—why are you so good at this?"

"My two sisters don’t grasp ‘older brothers are like fathers,’ so I self-soothe to unwind."

Sis Xixi’s eyes narrowed strangely. "I-Is that so? Boys in puberty should... practice restraint."

"What look is *that*? I meant massage! Where’d your mind go?!"

"Ehehe!" v(>w<*)

Ouyang Xi stretched out a cat-paw hand, tongue out. Shameless—acting cute at her age. Most shameless part? I fell for it.

"But hearing my silly little brother liked a girl... it hurts and thrills me."

"Hurts *or* thrills? Don’t underestimate me—I’m popular at school. Girls invite me to mixers daily. When I grab the mic, everyone wonders if the original singer’s even on!"

...I’m beyond saving. I’m shamelessly self-deprecating for comfort now.

"Fifty-fifty. So Lan-zi sings? I’d love to hear. Not ‘Give Me Five Hundred More Years,’ right?"

"Of course not! That’s hard! Thrills I get—but why so much hurt?"

"Because my dumb little brother didn’t confess to his amazing sister!"

"So you’re heartbroken you couldn’t give *me* a ‘nice guy’ card? Zero points for that joke. More importantly—how’d you know I confessed?"

"J-Joke? How cruel. Sister’s heartbroken." She bit into a glossy apple from the coffee table, offering it to me. "Thinking back... you were so gloomy in middle school. Even I didn’t dare approach you. Was it then?"

I stayed silent. No words. No apple.

Sis Xixi fell quiet. She covered a yawn, leaning against me softly. "Hey... what’s she like, the girl you like? Tell me. Maybe I’ll force myself to become her for you."

I chuckled dryly. "‘Maybe’? What kind of comfort is that? If I took you seriously, you’d have to take responsibility."

Women’s intuition is terrifying. Sis Xixi always sensed my thoughts—every flicker of emotion escaped her. The perfect confidante: cute, flirty, endlessly caring. Too bad she didn’t know how terrifying that girl was. I’d never want Sis Xixi to become her.

"So you never took me seriously?"

Same reverse-psychology trick won’t work twice on a Saint Seiya fan. I almost quipped—but the weight on my shoulder was so still, her voice so dim. For a second, I wondered if I’d been painfully slow.

"You... I... Sis Xixi..."

"HAHAHAHA! I can’t keep it up!"

My face burned as she burst out laughing, darting into my arms and poking my cheek. "You blushed! You totally blushed! Don’t lie! Hmph♪ I’m still the universe’s most charming, eternally eighteen-year-old beauty!"

I threw my head back in despair. "Please die. Both you and Ouyang Lian. I beg you, universe’s most narcissistic sisters."

"Don’t be mad! I’ll take responsibility. If you confess to me, I’ll happily accept. Really! Trust me! Pffft—don’t keep your sister waiting too long. By the time I’m old and wrinkled, you won’t be able to ditch me!"

"I’ll be a dog if I believe you again!"

***SLAMMED!***

A furious argument erupted upstairs, followed by a door slamming shut—some irritable slave master storming out. Sis Xixi and I sighed in unison, shaking our heads.