"Xiao Yao, where’s that little girl?"

Qingli asked as she stepped out of the building, not seeing the figure beside me.

"Our daughter? She went to the restroom. She’ll be back soon."

I replied smoothly, my expression perfectly calm.

I’d promised the little girl I’d cover for her—no need to hide anything openly—but she clearly listened to Qingli more. After endless pleading, I’d agreed to keep her secret, watching her drag a little boy around the corner for a hushed chat.

*Something’s going on there… Tsk tsk. Can’t keep up with the times—even kids these days…*

Qingli didn’t suspect a thing. After the girl returned, we left the orphanage together. Through brief introductions, I learned her name was Xiaorui—no surname.

"Won’t she take our surname?" I asked Qingli.

"No," Qingli chuckled, patting my head. "Of course not."

I winced, rubbing my head and pouting. "But what about Xiaorui’s name? Kids might tease her for having no surname."

Back in elementary and middle school, children with divorced parents got mocked relentlessly. How much worse for a nameless child…

Xiaorui stood quietly beside us, her face eerily calm. My heart ached. I swept her into my arms, stroking her hair.

Qingli sighed, a trace of loneliness in her voice. "Maybe."

Sensing her mood shift, I stayed silent, just gently rubbing Xiaorui’s head. After setting her down, we stepped outside. I tugged Qingli’s sleeve, grimacing at the crowded street.

"Qingli, *Qingli*—let’s take a taxi. Look, Xiaorui’s so small. What if there are no seats on the bus?"

I blinked innocently at her, subtly tugging Xiaorui’s sleeve to play along. But the girl just stood there, obedient and silent.

A flicker of exasperation passed through Qingli’s golden eyes. "Fine. That was the plan anyway."

"*Yes!*"

*Thank goodness—no long walk to the bus stop. Wait… did I forget something?*

Minutes later—

"Xiao Yao, what’s wrong? Are you okay?"

"I’m fi—*urp!*"

I leaned out the window to dry-heave, then turned back with a strained smile at Qingli’s worried gaze.

"It’s fine, really. Totally normal."

"But," Qingli’s lips twitched, "morning sickness is normal *only* during pregnancy."

"*Pfft—* Wait, *pregnancy*? No, I’m just carsick—*urp!*"

The post-lunch nausea hit harder than usual. The driver crawled along at a snail’s pace. By the time we reached the hospital, the trip had taken as long as a bus ride.

Qingli guided us upstairs—one hand on Xiaorui, the other steadying my shoulder. She settled Xiaorui in a chair and tucked me into bed like a mother tending to two daughters.

She handed me a cup of warm water, maternal concern radiating from her. "Xiao Yao, do you have motion sickness?"

My voice wobbled. "I didn’t before… but ever since becoming a girl, I get dizzy in cars."

After tending to me with a warm towel, Qingli stood to leave. "Rest well. I’m taking Xiaorui somewhere important."

"Mm-hmm." I nodded, then remembered. "Qingli—will you come back here tonight? Where will you stay?"

We were guests in others’ homes. I stayed at Yejia Yin’s, but I didn’t know if she’d host Qingli too. Lanying was too far from Qingli’s old place—and that building stood empty now.

"I’ve been discharged," Qingli smoothed her hair, Xiaorui beside her at the door. "Yejia Yin arranged for me to stay in Lanying’s student dorms last night."

*Oh. Good. Yejia Yin really thought of everything.* I waved goodbye to them both, then collapsed onto my pillow. The carsickness aftereffects left me drained.

*Yejia Yin’s been so kind… and I’ve done nothing for her. Guilt gnawed at me. High school dropout. No skills. No combat strength. Useless.*

A sudden self-audit hit hard. Tears pricked my eyes.

*No. I must talk to Yejia Yin. Living off others’ generosity? Unacceptable. Without value, I’ll have no say—not even over which school I attend. Time to negotiate!*

…

I woke at 6 PM. The nap had been deep. Stretching, I yawned hugely before heading to Yejia Yin’s place. She’d mentioned handling important matters today—likely home by now.

Autumn wind bit through my thin tights. *So. Damn. Cold.*

A sleek black sedan idled outside Yejia Yin’s door. Empty. *She’s inside.*

I took a breath, unlocked the door, and called out:

"Yejia Yin, you’re back! Welcome ho—"

My greeting died. Three suited figures stood with her—two men, one woman—their expressions grim. Subordinates reporting wasn’t unusual, but the thick scent of blood froze my throat.

The trio glanced at me, then silently sought Yejia Yin’s cue. She didn’t look up. "That’s all for today. Dismissed."

They slipped past me. I realized I was blocking the door and shuffled inside, trembling before her.

"Something you need?"

She still wouldn’t meet my eyes, busy unpacking as if just arrived.

*Be brave, Luo Xiaoyao!*

I clenched my fists. "Yejia Yin, I—"

"What is it."

Her voice was colder than the autumn wind. I shivered, my rehearsed words crumbling. "I—I just wondered… is it safe for them to leave? There’s such a strong smell of blood."

Yejia Yin finally looked up, surprised, then composed. "Relax. No one else has your Nine Tailed Fox senses."

*Oh.* The blood wasn’t real—it was my supernatural perception.

Still dazed, I blurted, "What did you do this afternoon?"

"Told you this morning," she frowned impatiently. "Dealt with those who attacked you. They should’ve answered to me, but refused. So I cleaned house."

*Cleaned house.* Did that mean… killed?

They were lives. My own Yao Race kin—even rebels. A pang of sorrow struck me.

*But they tried to kill me. Yejia Yin avenged me, protected me… I have no right to judge. This is ungrateful. Pathetic.*

Guilt lingered, but it steeled my resolve. *Man up. Say it.*

I stepped closer to her turned back. "Yejia Yin—I want to ask something."

She turned. Her jacket was off, a loose dress making her look fragile.

"What?"

I locked eyes with her, voice steady.

"What can I *do*? Let me help you."

*Pay rent, meals, gratitude—anything. Prove I’m not worthless.*

Yejia Yin snorted, studying me oddly. "That’s *my* question—what *can* you do?"

"Huh?"

"Can you cast spells? Transform and fight?"

I shook my head. Twice.

"Any special skills?"

*Uh… big chest? No. Nope.* I shook my head again.

"So what exactly can you do to ‘help’ me?" Her eyebrow arched. "Just be my pretty ornament."

*Ornament.*

*Ment.*

*nt.*

Stunned, I stumbled back to my room. Collapsing face-down on the bed, I felt like a banana left in a winter fridge—chilled to the core.

That night, I tossed in bed. Too much afternoon sleep? Or the weight in my chest?

Probably both.

*I have no skills. No strength. But that’s temporary. Monday—I’ll beg Qingli to teach me magic, combat… everything. Once I’m strong, Yejia Yin will see. I’m NOT an ornament.*

…Though, *can* Qingli even fight? I recalled yesterday—her cat-girl form clawing that snake monster raw.

*Doubt crept in. I stared at the ceiling, wide awake.*