It was a little past five in the morning. I’d always prepared Western-style breakfasts before—they were quick and simple. But with so much time today, I decided to make something more lavish.

As I started rinsing rice for porridge, a sleepy “Yaaawn~” drifted from the living room doorway. Mom shuffled in.

Her hair was a tangled mess, dark circles clung stubbornly under her eyes, and her shoulders slumped like she hadn’t just woken up—she hadn’t gotten enough sleep at all.

“Huh? Juncheng? You’re up early…”

“Mom, you’re the one who said you had the day off. Why rise so soon?”

It was only 5:30. I’d expected her to sleep till noon. I’d even planned to pack her lunch later.

“Ah, I thought I’d cook breakfast since I’m home. You’ve handled it for two years now… I’ve been such a lousy mom…”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Her job often kept her out till midnight, making mornings tough. She’d pushed through until I finished elementary school, but I took over to spare her the exhaustion.

Housework seemed tedious at first, but I had free time to kill. Cleaning and organizing brought calm as chaos turned orderly. Cooking, especially sweets, was fun—kneading dough, baking cakes. Even flashy knife skills or flipping a wok one-handed looked cool.

“Let me handle it today. What were you planning, Juncheng?”

“Red bean porridge, stir-fried celery with cashews, bell peppers and eggs, fruit salad… and taro pancakes.”

“Huh? Red bean porridge? Taro pancakes…?”

Mom awkwardly smoothed her hair, clearly lost.

“Haha, I’ll take over. You nap on the couch.”

Since becoming the family chef, I’d leveled up. With generous allowance and my own oven, I experimented with new recipes beyond Mom’s basics.

“You’ve grown so much, my precious boy.”

She suddenly hugged me from behind, pressing her cheek to my back.

That embrace jolted me—just like Xinran in the bathroom earlier. I shuddered, nearly slicing my finger.

“Uh, Mom? What’re you doing…”

“Just a little hug. Too grown-up for Mom now? Wahhh~ I’m gonna cry!”

“Stop—it’s dangerous.”

“You used to call me ‘Aunt Anyue’… blushed when you first said ‘Mom’… Ten years flew by, huh…”

“Yeah…”

“Heh, Keling will totally crush on you, big brother.”

“Huh?”

My hidden worry spilled from her lips. I froze.

Facing my back, she missed my shock, chirping on: “She likes the same type as me. You’re so like your dad—she’ll adore you.”

Phew. I’d thought she knew something.

“Really?”

“Absolutely! And Xinran too! She acts cold, but she’s a good sister who loves her brother. After all, she’s… ahem. She definitely likes you.”

“Ahaha…”

Mom, you’re spot-on. She *is* a good sister… just a little *too* devoted.

“So watch out for Keling, sweetie. She might snap one day.”

“No way. Keling’s so well-behaved…”

That “scheming type” title nagged me, but her pink aura and brother complex meant she was safe… right?

“Heh, who knows? I used plenty of tricks chasing your dad. She’s my daughter, after all…”

So Keling learned those tricks too?

Mom! What did you teach her?!

That’s why she’s the scheming type?!

Give me back my sweet, clingy little sister!

“Well, useless Mom will just wait for her darling son’s breakfast~ Go get ’em, Juncheng!”

“Sure, sure…”

By 6:20, I’d finished breakfast and bento boxes. Time to wake the sisters.

I hung my apron on the fridge hook, roused Mom drooling on the couch, then headed upstairs.

Xinran stood there in her uniform, unchanged yet utterly different.

“Breakfast’s ready. Come down.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll get Keling.”

“Brother.”

“Hm?”

“Keling… comfort her well.”

“Huh? Comfort? What do you—hey!”

She walked off without explaining, leaving only her back.

Why so cold again? At least finish your sentence…

I shook my head, tapped Keling’s door three times. No reply. I entered—she’d given permission for mornings.

Her room overflowed with stuffed toys. I knelt by her bed.

“Keling, time to rise.”

“Mmm…”

A muffled sound. The blanket shifted slightly.

Weird. She usually bounced up, chirping “Good morning!” Today, she clung to bed.

“You’ll be late. Breakfast is ready—I made your favorite red bean porridge.”

I wouldn’t yank blankets or pounce. Food was my only weapon.

Keling felt younger than Xinran and me—her tiny frame, sweet nature.

“…Brother…”

A fragile, trembling voice from under the covers.

“What’s wrong?”

She peeked out, clutching the blanket edge, looking pale.

“Keling’s sick… with heartache.”

“Huh?! A cold? Let me check!”

I pressed my palm to her forehead. Warm. A low fever?

“You might have a cold. I’ll get a damp towel. Rest.”

“Not a cold… Only Brother’s hug can cure this…”

Hah. Just craving cuddles. The heat? Probably from hiding under covers.

Relief. Not sick.

Such a brat… Wait!

Keling’s the *scheming type*! Scheming!

That means sweet outside, dangerous inside—full of tricks!

Is she plotting something?

“Brother?”

“Ah? Yeah?”

My hesitation made her eyes well up.

“Do you… hate Keling now?”

“No! Never!”

“Then why won’t you hug me…”

“I do! Of course I will!”

I lifted her, patting her back like a baby.

Ah, Xinran meant “comfort” literally.

“Brother, do you like me?”

“Always. I love you, Keling.”

She hugged my neck, tears turning to smiles.

“I love you the most, big brother~”

“Mm-hmm!”

What was I doubting? She’s my sister! Even scheming, she’d never hurt me. Trust her.

“Then… let Keling be your wife, okay?”

I never thought I’d hear a sister say, “I’ll marry you when I grow up~”—straight out of anime.

Haha, marrying a sister only happens in 2D worlds.

I’ll agree. Don’t want her crying again.

“Okay. I’ll marry you someday, Keling.”

“Hehe, I love you the most!”

“Mm-hmm.”

Comforting her healed me too.

Keling truly is my soul’s solace.

“Now, get up, Keling.”

“Mm!”

She beamed. I ruffled her hair and left.

My energy bar was full!

Oh yeah!