The time for fooling around was over. After all, the most important thing was still typing.

Su Su had only asked for one scene. It didn’t require many words. So Bai Su finished it in just an hour and a half. After ten minutes of edits and tweaks, Su Su’s envisioned scene came alive on the screen.

Bai Su tapped the Enter key lightly, pushed the keyboard back, and turned. He was bursting with pride but acted utterly nonchalant. “Done,” he said, gesturing. “Take a look. How is it?”

Su Su ignored the kid’s smugness. She patted the chair back behind him, scowling. “I need to see it. Move already.”

Bai Su gave up the chair. He stood aside, watching Su Su review his draft.

He was really nervous. He usually trusted his writing. But would strangers online accept it? He had zero confidence there.

Creators often shared this flaw. From their own view, their work seemed nearly perfect. Minor flaws felt harmless. This was normal.

But an outsider’s perspective revealed countless bugs—expected and not. Unavoidable.

Bai Su thought his piece was fine. Yet with Su Su reading it, he couldn’t be sure. After all, the player is blind; the spectator sees clear.

He studied his sister’s face, hoping for clues. But her complex expression was unreadable.

“What kind of look is this?” he wondered. “Is my writing really that bad?”

Su Su finally finished Bai Su’s version of “Don’t Bully the Poor Youth.” Her expression twisted further. She glanced at Bai Su’s eager face. Then at the screen. Back and forth several times. She stopped. With a sigh that sounded deeply mysterious to him, she exhaled.

Su Su was questioning her life. This weird style, pretentious literary flair… and that mentally polluting “so terrifying” phrase…

Stop it! This wasn’t Bai Su at all!

Potato and Mao Ni! When had they possessed him?

So terrifying, so terrifying—it was absolutely terrifying!

A mysterious Eastern power surged through Su Su. She muttered unconsciously, “How could this lose? With Potato and Mao Ni dominating, how?”

Bai Su watched her act crazy, utterly baffled.

Su Su spun around. She stood on tiptoe, patted his shoulder, dead serious. “Keep it up, bro. Write like this. Trust me—earning a hundred thousand a month is no dream!”

Bai Su shrugged off her hands. He pinched her cheek. “Stop clowning. Seriously, how is it?”

Su Su stuck out her tongue cutely. She nodded, face turning grave. “Well-written. Minor flaws, but harmless. By web novel standards—you’ve passed.”

A huge weight lifted from her heart. If Bai Su kept this quality and updated steadily, the novel would blow up. They’d have stable income.

“Finally, no more worrying about food,” Su Su sighed.

Other reincarnators thrived in parallel worlds by copying songs and books. For her, just eating caused endless stress.

Truly, someone else’s reincarnation. Someone else’s system.

Bai Su didn’t know her thoughts. Her praise pleased him, but he feigned indifference. Calm-faced, he frowned slightly. “Hmph. Only passed?”

“Haven’t you noticed I’m a tsundere here?” Su Su thought.

Older siblings often had fierce protectiveness. They showed strength to prove they could shield their younger siblings.

But many weren’t mature. Overprotectiveness and attention-seeking made them lose sense. So they expressed love in extreme, confusing ways—untimely showing off, clumsy bullying, stubborn denial, sharp tongues.

Bai Su’s act was classic older-brother unforthcomingness and forced bravado.

With the biggest problem solved, Su Su felt relief. Warm sunlight hit her. Sleepless nights from tangled thoughts caught up. She covered her mouth and yawned widely.

She stood, stretching. Her nightgown clung to her youthful, not-yet-fully-formed body, outlining soft curves.

The line started at her collarbone. Swept over her budding chest. Ran straight down, tightening at her abdomen, vanishing.

Bai Su glanced at that curve’s peak, gaze slightly averted. Guilty like a thief. Childlike thrill, like sneaking candy. But deeper—a complex ache. Had his sister grown up so fast?

When had that snotty little shadow, like spring willow, sprouted branches? Developed small breasts? Stopped being a bean sprout? Become a real girl?

Bai Su fell silent.

The thirty-year-old man in Su Su’s soul had zero fanservice awareness. Rough-guy habits meant no fuss over details.

But the fifteen-year-old girl snapped back. She halted the big stretch. Just extended her arms, sighing contentedly. “Comfy.”

Her eyes curved like a kitten napping by a fireplace.

Then the kitten woke. She eyed Bai Su mischievously, baring claws. “Pervert Bai Su—were you staring?”

Bai Su froze.

H-how? He’d been so discreet.

Su Su seemed to hear him. She gave a soft “Hmph.” “If you don’t want others to know, don’t do it.”

She squinted, smiling. “Lucky today. I’m in a good mood—spare your life. But punishment’s coming. Haircut time!”

Faced with that smile, Bai Su nodded with a bitter grin.

After all… nothing’s bigger than your own sister.