This farce ended with me fleeing in defeat—I even kicked over a stool as I turned to escape.

So that *clatter* was just the stool falling. Had nothing to do with me or my face. Zero connection.

After leaving the hospital, I went home. Yejia Yin’s home. Though it wasn’t my house, I lived here now—my food, clothes, and shelter all provided by its owner.

How incredibly lucky.

My body had undergone some indescribable mutation after my soul awakened. This change made it impossible to continue my old life, to be around familiar people—even facing my parents felt unbearable.

Just as despair closed in, Yejia Yin took me in. She saved my important classmate, handled my transfer paperwork, and gave me a new place to stay.

Well, the price was offering myself up—marrying her, a fifteen-year-old loli, while I looked like a thirteen-year-old girl.

So which of us got the raw deal?

That’s a question for the ages. I wouldn’t dwell on it. A more urgent problem gnawed at me: I was broke.

Technically, I attended a full boarding school—meals in the canteen, uniforms provided, dorms to sleep in. So my family hadn’t given me living expenses. But reality bit hard. Recalling the past two days, cold sweat broke out on my skin.

Since Thursday: lunch was takeout Qingli ordered; skipped dinner that night from motion sickness; today at noon, I cooked a fried egg noodle bowl at Yejia Yin’s…

I’d somehow survived two days of meals—penniless the whole time.

Suddenly, I felt impressive… No. Wrong time for that. I’d retraced my meals to remember one thing: I needed to ask Yejia Yin for money.

Why did that sound so pathetic? Was she really my keeper now?

After a brief war between male pride and an empty stomach, I decided to ask for living expenses. I could call it a "loan" if needed.

After all, when a scholar borrows money, it’s not *begging*—it’s borrowing.

Lu Xun’s wisdom settled my conscience. I tidied up and waited primly for Yejia Yin’s return.

I waited until dusk. Autumn days faded fast, but even so, the sun dipped near six. Golden twilight spilled over my rigid silhouette. From afar, I probably looked like a motionless statue—a legendary "waiting wife" carved from stone.

Finally, car doors slammed outside. Keys jingled in the lock. I rushed to greet her, voice dripping with pitiful sweetness: "You’re back."

"What’s wrong?"

The girl shrugged off her gray coat, draping it over the wooden rack.

I bit my lower lip, summoning my most pitiful expression. "I’m starving…"

Yejia Yin frowned. "Why didn’t you eat dinner?"

Watching her furrowed brow—she was a year younger than me, yet carried herself like a weary adult. Her amber eyes, usually sharp enough to pierce souls, now held a trace of exhaustion.

My chest tightened. Heat rushed to my head. "Because I wanted to wait for you."

*(Truth was: I had no money.)*

Her expression flickered with surprise, then smoothed into calm indifference. "Don’t wait for me next time. I can’t predict when I’ll be back."

*Mhm. If there’s food, I won’t wait. Maybe leave you half. Or a third if there’s not enough.*

She took two steps inside, then paused. Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Tomorrow, I’ll have groceries delivered. And I’ll give you some living expenses."

My body froze. I offered a sheepish grin. She’d seen right through me without a word.

Yejia Yin was terrifyingly perceptive.

Though… was it just me, or had she grown softer lately? Less icy than before?

*Why? Could she actually be treating me like her wife?*

The next day, visiting Qingli, I couldn’t hold back the question. Xiaorui wasn’t there—Qingli had sent her to preschool. With no little ears around, I spoke freely.

"Qingli… does Yejia Yin really see me as her wife?"

The girl snorted, nearly dropping the plate of glutinous rice cakes. She plopped down and pinched my cheeks.

"Stop it! It hurts! Ow ow ow!"

I flailed until escaping her grasp. Qingli rested her chin on her palm, adopting a sage-like tone.

"You’re so naive. Feelings aren’t that simple. You don’t just *become* someone’s wife overnight."

*Tch. Acting all profound. Like your whole clan even knows about romance.*

Qingli caught my skepticism but didn’t argue. She sighed softly. "From what you’ve described, Yejia Yin’s attitude has shifted. But it might not be warmth… it could be vulnerability."

"Vulnerability?"

I tilted my head, confusion written plain. Yejia Yin was powerful—the city’s top boss, head of her clan, commanding fierce loyalty. Where was the weakness?

"Idiot." Qingli flicked my forehead hard. "When a girl grows fragile, it’s because she’s facing trouble. Understand?"

I rubbed my stinging head, turning her words over. I didn’t know Yejia Yin’s exact struggles, but I guessed. Old Man and Qingli once said the hidden world’s human factions warred like nations. If Yejia Yin was struggling, it had to be clan conflicts.

What kind of enemy could trouble her this deeply? *Sigh.* I’d just ask her directly.

After wolfing down rice cakes, I headed home. Yejia Yin still wasn’t back—but the fridge was stocked: fresh vegetables, pork loin, even a steak.

Judging by portions, groceries lasted two days. I stared at the bounty… then grabbed the cash on the table and headed out.

Restaurants around Lanying offered everything—Chinese, Western, Japanese. Even a simple corn-and-pork rice box tasted heavenly. Why cook at home when I could eat out? Duh.

Full and satisfied, I returned before six. Yejia Yin hadn’t arrived yet. I flopped on the couch, flipping TV channels.

By my seventh yawn, the door opened. I sprang up, taking her coat and pouring water with exaggerated eagerness.

"What’s this about?"

*Of course.* Normal people knew: sudden kindness meant hidden motives. I forced a grin. "Nothing! Just worried about you."

I almost believed my own sincerity.

"Haaah…"

She sighed heavily out of nowhere, fixing me with a tired gaze. "Never mind. You’ll find out soon enough. The wedding’s the day after tomorrow—in the provincial capital. Wake up early tomorrow. I’ll take you to collect the items. We leave by train in the afternoon."

"Eh?!" I bristled like a startled cat. "T-tomorrow? So soon?!"

Today was Saturday. Monday—the day after tomorrow—was my official debut as a girl… and my wedding day?

This life was doing triple backflips.

"Yes. Tomorrow." Yejia Yin glanced at me flatly. "It’s a maglev train. Won’t be too rough on your motion sickness."

*Eh?* Motion sickness? I blinked, remembering my new weakness.

Annoying girl points. But… Yejia Yin, swamped with responsibilities, remembered this tiny detail?

Still, her earlier words snagged my attention: *"You’ll find out soon enough."*

Had she guessed my question again? *When?* At the wedding? I sank back onto the couch, piecing it together.

First: Yejia Yin faced trouble—likely clan conflicts. She said I’d understand at the wedding. Did that mean enemies would crash the ceremony?

*Heaven help me. My life is absurd.*

As a boy forced to be a girl-bride… then having thugs storm my wedding while lightning flashed and blood splattered everywhere… me, powerless in a wedding gown, trembling on the red carpet—

*What awful imagination.*

Whatever. Yejia Yin would handle it. No need for me to stress over radishes and salt. I stole a glance at her, reassured.

Yejia Yin hadn’t noticed. After a quiet moment, she rose and pulled a pack of toast from the fridge.

"Eh? You didn’t eat dinner?" I asked. She always came home so late—I assumed she ate out.

"Didn’t eat."

Silence filled the room as she devoured the dry toast. Clearly starving.

Quietly, I stood and refilled her water glass.

—*From now on, I’ll cook dinner at home. I won’t wait for her… but I’ll keep it warm whenever she’s hungry.*

Handing her the cup, I made that silent promise. My cooking needed work though. Time to beg Qingli for lessons again.

*Please let her have forgotten last time’s kitchen disaster. Amen.*