Their little cottage now had a cat-eared maid and a shadowy figure drifting about all day. The cat-eared maid was Linne. She was no longer the proud, self-assured girl from their first meeting. Instead, she moved with careful steps, trembling all over at the slightest mistake before curling up in a corner.

Zhang Yemiao chose to ignore the maid. Though Linne handled most chores now, she clearly had no experience. She couldn’t even wash clothes properly—if Zhang hadn’t built that hand-cranked washing machine earlier, Wang Qi and Zhang would still be doing the laundry themselves.

This maid only knew Life Magic. She was clueless about other spells, and even her Life Magic was merely level three—nothing impressive.

But she was young. Like Zhang’s own race, time barely touched her. The beastkin’s lives seemed accelerated.

Though this cat-eared maid appeared fully grown—a tempting older-sister type anywhere you looked—she was actually quite young. Only fifteen.

These past two days, Zhang had been busy forging a body for the shadow.

What Wang Qi was thinking, Zhang didn’t know. Nor did she want to know. Life seemed unchanged, yet something felt different.

She secretly built failsafes into her creations.

Like a button that drained all resistance on contact. Or a critical joint that would make the whole body collapse if triggered.

Of course, nothing obvious. The shadow might spot them immediately after possessing the body—but Zhang was confident enough to let her discover them anyway. Let her swallow the bitter pill.

Wang Qi seemed to trust this shadow. But Zhang saw no harm in keeping a backup plan.

“Wait! Is this supposed to be right?” the shadow called out, stopping Zhang’s hands. “I may not know forging, but even I can see these legs are way too short. Not the long legs I wanted at all.”

Zhang silently melted the legs down and started over, her scheme exposed.

The shadow nodded in satisfaction. *Knew it. These little girls always get jealous.* Good thing she’d been watching closely—no chance for Zhang to ruin her perfect image.

“But… an all-steel body feels off,” Zhang admitted honestly. A pure metal frame would make her feel like she’d stepped into a sci-fi flick. This was a world of magic. It clashed.

Alchemy existed here too, sure—but the vibe was all wrong.

She sighed, looking at the shadow. “That’s why I suggested stitching your skin from beasthide. I could craft you a flawless form.”

“No way!”

The shadow’s mysterious aura vanished completely. “I said human skin or nothing! Beasthide? Unacceptable!”

*Brutal, this otherworlder.*

Zhang sighed. She hadn’t expected such rejection of animal hide. What exactly had blown her original body to pieces?

Wang Qi had barely spoken to her for days. It hurt. She knew he probably felt guilty—but for her to seek him out first…

She needed time.

She tried ignoring the catgirl, but Linne’s terrified state gnawed at her. Remembering how Wang Qi had subtly blocked her view of the room that day left a sour taste in her mouth.

*Don’t dig into his secrets.*

“He’d never do anything truly wrong. I believe that.”

Zhang had declared those words firmly that day—but only because the shadow was listening. Alone, she might never have said them. She knew Wang Qi likely acted for her sake. For *their* sake.

But was it right to do wrong things for the right reasons?

Since arriving in this world, Zhang had stayed glued to Wang Qi’s side. Yet she still didn’t understand him.

*Am I thinking too much about myself?*

People hated having their secrets pried into. Zhang lived by that rule. Anything Wang Qi didn’t volunteer, she never asked.

After realizing her feelings for him, she’d decided: his reciprocation was all she needed.

*Falling in love turns you brainless.*

Maybe that saying held truth. Loving him meant sharing his pain when he hurt. Loving him meant soothing his doubts. Loving him meant making excuses when he did bad things.

She wondered if she’d ever had a real romance before.

Not now—*before*. Her confidence in pursuing Wang Qi came from past relationships. Different circumstances, but she’d believed persistence would win him over.

It had worked. Yet suddenly, she realized those past romances had been fake.

Because back then, she’d never thought like this.

Undeniably, she still loved Wang Qi. Even now…

Head down, she silently hammered the steel frame.

Night fell. They ate dinner in silence. Wang Qi and Zhang’s eyes met across the table—he seemed about to speak, but closed his mouth again. Linne cleared the dishes with clumsy obedience, her tail flicking uneasily as if sensing the tension.

They retreated to their rooms.

Zhang took a silver bracelet from her room. It caught the starlight faintly—unassuming, yet crafted with immense effort.

She went to the maid’s room.

Their cottage’s advantage: extra rooms were easy to build. Fast, too. Linne huddled in a corner, still wearing the simple maid uniform Zhang had whipped up in a minute.

Zhang heard soft, muffled sobs.

The catgirl’s ears twitched. The crying stopped instantly. Linne looked up, her pupils gleaming like a real cat’s in the dark—well, she *was* one.

She stared at Zhang with wary fear.

“No need to worry,” Zhang said, shaking the silver chain on her wrist. “This bracelet blocks mental probes and sound. As long as you stay calm, they won’t hear us.”

For a split second, Linne’s expression crumpled into utter vulnerability—then snapped back to alertness, every feline feature screaming caution.

Pity stirred in Zhang, but she kept her voice cold. “This is your only chance. Tell me what they did that day. I might… change my mind about some things.”

Linne stayed silent.

“You can trust this much: even if you talk, how could things get worse?” Zhang had rehearsed this moment countless times. “Of course, if you don’t believe me, fine. I was just asking. It changes nothing for me.”

She turned to leave.

“Meow!”

The cat’s cry from behind told Zhang she’d won.

Later, watching Linne sleep peacefully, Zhang thought how heavy that secret must have been to carry.

She pushed open the door.

Walked to the living room.

Placed the silver bracelet on the wooden table.

“I’m angry.” Her tone was flat. In the dim starlight filtering through the window, Zhang’s words hung in the quiet night.

Across the table, Wang Qi sat in a chair, his face shadowed. Hard to read.

“It should be.”

Wang Qi’s voice broke the long silence.

Quiet settled again. But the night was long. Silence couldn’t last.

Zhang had much to say. She knew the sleep aid she’d added to dinner wouldn’t affect Wang Qi—and he’d notice it.

Yet he wouldn’t stop her.

He was waiting for her to ask.

She’d planned her questions: *Why so cruel? Was it really necessary? Why didn’t you talk to me?* They choked her throat, but none came out.

All that remained was:

“Do you love me?”

Wang Qi’s heart lurched. Just as Zhang knew he wouldn’t interfere, Wang Qi had waited in the living room, braced for blame. Ready, even, for her hatred.

She hadn’t said *like*. She’d said *love*.

Zhang rarely used that word. In four years of college, during all their time together, she’d never called anything *love*.

Even when confessing in this world, she’d only said *like*.

Now she asked, “Do you love me?”

She’d used *like* for herself but demanded *love* from him? Greedier than he’d thought… or just lying to herself.

Wang Qi’s bitter smile was invisible in the dark. He understood her meaning. Her accusation. Her disappointment. She was saying: *I love you.*

A heavy weight. Heavier than what he’d carried for Li Pingtian. Yet strangely, he felt no urge to run. Saying “no” wouldn’t cost him anything now.

And that made her love heavier still.

Did he even deserve to say “I love you”?

He knew the answer.

“I don’t know.”

The worst reply. The stupidest. A good man wouldn’t give an answer that crushed hope.

Before he could regret it, Zhang was in front of him. She straddled his lap, arms around him, and kissed him.

The taking and the giving.

*What is love’s meaning?*

*Sacrifice? Devotion?*

The scent and warmth of the girl in his arms drowned his thoughts. The words he couldn’t say—this girl, right here—kept showing him with every touch: *I love you.*

When their lips parted, her face flushed in the starlight. She held his gaze.

“I love you.”