"Those promises we made..." Chen Mo opened his mouth but no sound came out. For a moment, he seemed lost in the memory.

Chen Ying glanced toward the door, her voice trembling. "That afternoon when we were kids... we were playing hide-and-seek at home. You chased me, and I accidentally crashed into the wardrobe..." Her words trailed off as she sank into recollection. "The vase on top wobbled and fell. But you—you charged over like a knight, shielding me and catching it just in time."

"Back then, our eyes locked. Sakura petals fell at five centimeters per second... but the distance between us was only one centimeter."

"You promised you’d protect me like that forever."

"Have you forgotten all those promises?!" Chen Ying burst into tears, hands covering her face. Whether real tears fell didn’t matter—the raw emotion shook someone to their core.

But Chen Mo wasn’t that someone. He stared at his sister like she’d grown a second head. "So this whole story’s made up? Did you binge too many romance dramas? If that ever happened, I’d have let the vase hit you."

His words came too late. Chen Ying flashed a sly smile and stepped aside.

Behind her, the scene at the doorway hit Chen Mo like ice water.

Wei Shitong stood frozen, holding a bag of fruit.

The young nurse covered her mouth, eyes sparkling with gossip-hungry excitement.

Any seasoned otaku would’ve twisted Chen Ying’s words into something scandalous.

The nurse cleared her throat, shattering the awkwardness. "I heard nothing! This is Mr. Chen’s room. Call me if you need anything." She vanished.

Wei Shitong swaggered in, grinning like he’d cracked a secret code. "Bro, living the dream, huh? Took me forever to find your new ward. Back on your feet already, getting cozy with little Ying? No wonder you keep rejecting the class flower—turns out you’ve got a homegrown sweetheart."

Chen Ying blushed on cue. Chen Mo’s eye twitched.

Wei leaned toward her. "Ying, be honest—how’s your brother in *that* department?"

"Way too rough," she mumbled, turning away. "He just shoves everything at me without asking if I can handle it. Haven’t done it in days... kinda lonely."

Chen Mo’s face darkened. *Cameras are watching this!* He nearly leapt out of bed to kick them both. "Enough! Can’t I recover in peace?"

Wei blinked. "Huh? I meant your manga drafts, bro."

"Exactly," Chen Ying nodded. "He dumps finished sketches on me nonstop, ignoring my workload. With him sick, I’ve had no art to do. What’s wrong with that?"

Chen Mo: "... ..."

*You expect me to believe that?*

"Alright, jokes aside." Wei set down the fruit. "Heard you woke up. Came to visit on my Saturday off. Almost brought some girls, but I said no—cool?"

"Good call," Chen Mo muttered. He wasn’t arrogant—just painfully aware of his admirers. His mature demeanor (thanks to past-life memories) and decent looks made him campus bait. He’d wait for college before dating. A room full of girls? No thanks.

"How’s school?" he asked.

Wei shrugged. "World keeps spinning. But without you, we lost the top spot in last month’s exams."

"Doesn’t matter. I’ll be stuck here half a month." Chen Mo still trusted his shot at Capital University.

"Only thing pissing me off?" Wei sighed dramatically. "You vanish, I become the hottest guy in class—and girls still ignore me! Wasted opportunity!"

"Maybe stop grinning like a fool and act mysterious," Chen Mo deadpanned.

"Ying..." Wei turned to her with puppy-dog eyes.

She scooted her chair back instantly. "Nope. Keep Miss Five Fingers. I’ve got one useless guy to deal with already."

"So *I’m* the useless guy?" He reached to flick her forehead, but she dodged.

They chatted until noon. Wei left after lunch; Chen Ying went to eat. She’d already reassured him about his manga—submitted all drafts to his editor with an explanation. Chen Mo relaxed. With a month’s buffer, no knife-mail awaited him.

That afternoon, Chen Ying brought their mom. Their laughter filled the room, banishing evening boredom.

By 10:30 PM, Chen Mo lay ready for sleep—or rather, to simulate Little Ash’s life. The fox wasn’t asleep yet; anxiety crackled in its veins. Simulating now would chain sixteen hours straight into tomorrow’s eight AM session. His final gamble.

No time to prepare. Chen Mo addressed the system: "Simulate Little Ash’s life."

His eyes opened inside the cage. The shop was locked.

Guang and Ashan sat at the counter, drinking. Gear and backpacks littered the floor.

Guang’s voice cut through the alcohol haze: "We move tonight. Heard someone’s sniffing around. Plan’s changed—we leave tomorrow."