Xu Ruobing watched Yingyu Chi’s expression, as if she wanted to tear her apart bone by bone. In the end, she only gave a faint smile. Gently patting Jianglai’s head, she got back into the ride-hailing car.

Yingyu Chi stood frozen, brimming with fury but with nowhere to vent it.

Watching the car fade into the distance, Yingyu’s face turned pitiful. She spun to her brother-in-law and whined, “Brother-in-law, she just bullied me…”

Jianglai saw her younger sister-in-law acting like a little girl and smiled warmly. “Next time I see her, I’ll teach her a lesson for you.”

At first, Jianglai hadn’t grasped Xu Ruobing’s meaning. But seeing Yingyu’s angry face, she realized Xu Ruobing had insulted Yingyu’s looks. No wonder she was furious.

After all, that’s something you never say to a woman—you keep it to yourself.

“Others might not know,” Jianglai said softly, “but I know you’re beautiful, Yingyu. To me, no one’s more beautiful than you.”

“That’s such an exaggeration,” Yingyu murmured.

Though thirty, Yingyu blushed at the words, her lovely face flushing. “But don’t bother teaching her a lesson. Just promise not to see her again.”

Yingyu felt an innate aversion to that stranger. Avoiding her was best.

“But I meant it,” Jianglai insisted.

Every time Jianglai saw Yingyu’s face—so like her late wife’s—she remembered her wife had been the most beautiful to her. Now, with her gone, Yingyu held an irreplaceable place in Jianglai’s heart. Her daughter took after Jianglai, not resembling her mother much. “To me, you’re the most beautiful existence.”

Jianglai only wanted to boost Yingyu’s confidence. She never knew those offhand words would haunt Yingyu forever.

After returning home, Jianglai gently ushered the reluctant Yingyu to her room to rest. She’d wake her after cooking.

Jianglai knew Yingyu was handling a huge case. The whole law firm had been swamped. Yingyu often sorted documents late into the night, sleeping barely at all.

Jianglai always made sure Yingyu rested when possible. This time was no exception.

When Jianglai finished cooking and entered the bedroom to wake her, she couldn’t disturb Yingyu’s peaceful sleep. Let her rest longer.

While waiting, Jianglai placed dinner under a warming cover. She grabbed cotton swabs and a makeup remover wipe from the bathroom.

Sleeping with eye makeup would irritate Yingyu’s eyes. Jianglai dipped a swab in remover, slowly moistening it. It wouldn’t clean perfectly, but it’d wipe away the oxidized surface, preventing tear-sting.

Holding the swab, Jianglai gazed at Yingyu’s calm face. Leaning down, she noticed the heavy dark circles under her eyes.

Jianglai gently wiped the eye makeup away, bit by bit. The process was steady—until Yingyu, defenseless in sleep, shifted.

Yingyu had loosened her clothes for comfort. Jianglai accidentally glimpsed her gracefully matured figure.

That single glance left Jianglai’s heart pounding. As she reached for the blanket, Yingyu let out a soft whimper.

Jianglai froze, thinking she’d been caught. But Yingyu only turned onto her side.

On her back, Yingyu was fine. On her side, her full curves created a bewitching cleavage. One look, and Jianglai felt her mind sucked in.

Lately, showering, Jianglai had forced herself to look at her new body, trying to accept being female. But deep down, she didn’t believe it.

No matter how often she stared at herself, others triggered subconscious fantasies. Only as a woman did she realize desire built slowly—physiological needs flared. In that moment, she’d wanted to look longer.

Realizing desire had clouded her judgment, Jianglai knew she couldn’t stay. She quickly wiped the remaining makeup and fled the room. Another minute, and wicked thoughts might take root.

In the bathroom, Jianglai burned with restless need. She craved relief—but was it okay?

Though naturally reserved, any normal person had these urges. She’d handled it herself before…

But as a woman, the method was entirely new. She’d never done this, leaving her flustered.

The unsatisfied desire gnawed at her like ants crawling in her chest.

Jianglai checked the closed bedroom door. Yingyu wouldn’t wake soon. If the door opened, she’d notice.

Ready, she splashed cold water to calm down. Instead, the craving deepened.

Hesitating over whether to relieve herself, Jianglai never noticed the camera above, flashing as it recorded everything.

Inside the room, Yingyu—supposedly asleep—gripped her laptop, watching the screen intently. She saw every move Jianglai made, every unguarded expression on her brother-in-law’s face.

“Brother-in-law really has no guard up, huh?”