“What kind of talk is that?”

“Just a hunch. I’m never wrong about people. How about a divination? Only two coins—hey, don’t walk away! Remember to grab your fish from me later!”

Laughter spilled from the noodle shop. Mei Yige frowned. *Renting a place shouldn’t be this complicated.*

“Why does life keep drifting further from what I imagined? Seriously weird.”

Back in her office, sinking into her chair finally eased Mei Yige’s mood.

“Whatever. That’s just how she is.”

She pushed Larin from her mind. A Big Thunder Sister? No match for a cute landlord.

*Is Shiren eating at home or wandering outside right now?*

The answer was simple.

The golden-haired girl clasped her hands, lifted knife and fork, and sliced the meat with grace.

*As a shut-in, why would I ever go out?*

“This ham recipe isn’t bad… no sourness at all.”

Eating prepped food with salad, Shiren’s thoughts drifted to a certain lively figure.

*What’s the best way to cook her? Premium spices, definitely. I’ll message the clan to send some.*

As Great Lord Blood Demon, she had retainers—but her management style was lax. She only contacted her kin when essentials ran low.

Like spices no small town could supply.

Then an image flashed unbidden: that person from her couch nap, wearing nothing but an apron.

*Cough! Cough-cough!*

Sweet wine nearly choked the Great Lord Blood Demon.

“Why am I picturing *that*?! Darn it…”

She stuffed meat into her mouth, chewing frantically to calm down.

Morning’s suspicion had twisted into a secret hope: *What if Mei Yige truly…*

*…Actually, that wouldn’t be so bad?*

“No! Bad thoughts!”

She slammed the table, shoveling food down without tasting it. Plates clattered as she cleared the table, then fled to her bedroom with thumping footsteps.

*Sleep. Just sleep.*

Miss Shiren, whose routines grew sloppier by the day, refused to admit she’d fantasized about her food serving purposes beyond eating.

But dreams deliver brutal honesty to the dishonest.

When someone steals your gaze the moment you meet, they’re destined to matter—irreplaceably.

The unfinished dream from yesterday reignited the moment her eyes closed. Inescapable.

Shiren blinked at her surroundings.

*My living room. Exactly right.* The sofa’s familiar softness cradled her. The dim, golden light—her favorite ambiance—bathed the space.

“Did I fall asleep instantly?”

Such speed was unprecedented. Such a vivid dream, unheard of.

Her mind screamed: *This is a repeat.* Her face paled.

Sizzle. The kitchen behind her fried meat.

“No… no way.”

She turned stiffly toward the dining area.

A violet-haired, golden-eyed girl cooked in nothing but an apron.

Shiren’s breath hitched.

*This isn’t right!*

“You’re awake? Dinner’s ready. Hamburg steak and wine tonight. The meat’s your favorite—thigh and breast, marinated in ginger-vinegar. The wine’s a fresh thirty-year vintage.”

“Stay back!”

Mei Yige carried the plate forward, her expression innocently pure despite the scandalous apron. That blameless look was a weapon, igniting guilt.

*Such a fantasy couldn’t stem from a mere flutter.*

“Don’t you like it?” Mei Yige’s wounded tone was lethal. Unlike reality’s retreat, Dream-Mei Yige pressed closer, dangerously aggressive.

The plate clinked onto the table. Wine sloshed softly.

Shiren felt the heat as Mei Yige leaned in, the apron’s thin fabric straining over curves.

She smelled something far more intoxicating than food—the irresistible scent of the body pressed near.

*Watched.*

By golden eyes, clear and guileless.

“Not hungry? Wrong taste, Shiren-nee? Tell me. I’ll fix anything.”

“D-don’t pin me down!”

“No. Not until you explain. I—”

“What do you even *want*?!”

Shiren snapped. The dream spiraled. Heat flooded her. That impossible scent in the dream triggered a change.

Her golden hair bled silver. Her ruby eyes glowed brighter, hungry with bloodlust.

Mei Yige, caging her against the sofa with braced arms, blinked in surprise—then buried her face in Shiren’s neck, unfazed.

“I told you. I only want to make Shiren-nee comfortable…”

“Mmh?”

“So do whatever you wish with me. Kill me. Eat me. Or…”

Shiren felt Mei Yige’s tongue trace her throat.

*She’s the bloodthirsty demon here.*

*Just with a hint of succubus allure.*

“As long as you feel good…”

“Why… are you like this…”

Words stuck in her throat. Reason warred with craving. Half-resisting, Shiren needed to know why her dream twisted this way.

“Don’t you remember? With so many missing, I lost my job as Magic Consultant. You said you’d take care of me.”

“That’s not—”

Her thoughts drowned in desire.

Dizzily, Shiren sank her teeth into Mei Yige’s neck.

Tangling. Colliding.

Strands of hair brushed her ear.

“Mmgh!”

She jolted awake, drenched in sweat.

Dusk blurred the window. The clock read 6 PM.

“A nightmare…”

Sitting up, she pushed damp silver strands from her face. *Need a shower.*

But Shiren had no heart for it. She didn’t know how the dream ended—only that she and Mei Yige had done far more than *eat*.

Hands covered her burning face. A crushing sense of defeat filled the Great Lord Blood Demon.

“How could I let *her* pin *me* down?!”

The flustered cry echoed in the empty room.

Meanwhile, Mei Yige lifted her head from her desk, blinking awake.

“Was I dreaming? Weird…”

Miss Mei couldn’t recall the dream, only a strange restlessness in her body.

*…I should do laundry.*