Jianglai never expected her sister-in-law to be so blunt. She’d assumed Yingyu would gush over her looks—something she could’ve used later to introduce equally pretty girls to her.

But Yingyu Chi just blurted out wanting to sleep with her. Was this crude, forward girl really the sister-in-law she once knew?

Jianglai froze, hastily smoothing her rumpled clothes. *Is this real? Why would my sister-in-law feel this way about me?*

"Brother-in-law, you have no idea how insanely tempting you are right now," Yingyu murmured, eyes burning with desire. Jianglai’s skin glowed faintly pink—whether from shyness or excitement, Yingyu couldn’t tell. "Having a beauty like you around... I get physical needs. Strong ones. My self-control’s terrible."

She framed it as lust, not the bottomless love she truly felt. A calculated move.

"You’re stunning," Yingyu continued, lifting Jianglai’s hand. Her thumb traced each slender finger, each delicate knuckle, the soft pink nails. "So exquisite..." Her touch was tender, thorough—making Jianglai’s fingertips tremble slightly.

"You’re exaggerating," Jianglai whispered.

"Not even close. Words can’t capture it." Yingyu’s gaze dropped to Jianglai’s lips. "I want to bite them. And your blushing cheeks, your neck... I crave tasting every inch."

*What’s wrong with me?* Yingyu thought wildly. *Since when do I spill every filthy thought?* It felt like a dam cracking—decades of pent-up longing flooding out.

"You fit my ideal perfectly," she pressed on. "A female version of you? My ultimate dream girl. Honestly, I’ve imagined you as... fantasy material."

She bit back the truth: she’d love *any* version of Jianglai. But separating "emotional love" from "bodily urges" was safer. Lust was excusable. Love? Unforgivable.

"I’ve disappointed you, haven’t I?" Yingyu’s voice cracked. Crocodile tears welled in her eyes—three parts tenderness, three parts longing, three parts regret, one part watchfulness. "I’m not the composed, perfect Yingyu you know. I’m... secretly wild. My head’s full of filthy thoughts. My desires are overwhelming."

This was a gamble. If Jianglai recoiled, her carefully built image would shatter. But if she accepted—even a little—it’d crack open a door. Desire was a shortcut, like dynamite to a mountain.

"Must be hard holding back all this time," Jianglai murmured. She understood urges; at thirty, Yingyu’s hormones wouldn’t lie quiet, no matter how youthful she looked.

A storm of emotions churned in Jianglai. She could accept Yingyu’s desires... but being the *target*? The thought of being someone’s "fantasy material" left her breathless.

She’d always seen Yingyu as a little sister. There was selfish relief, too—knowing Yingyu preferred women meant she’d never suffer at a man’s hands. *As long as she’s happy...*

"It’s... okay. I understand," Jianglai said softly. Living as women had blurred their boundaries. And what was "brother-in-law" anyway, when she wasn’t a man? She didn’t grasp same-sex attraction deeply, but she likened it to how men desired women. Physical need. Simple.

"You really love this face?" Jianglai sometimes stared in mirrors, awed by her own beauty—but it was admiration, not desire. Yet others clearly didn’t feel the same. Even Xu Ruobing had looked at her with hunger.

Suddenly, she understood Yingyu’s struggle. The ache. The shame.

"If... *if* the urge ever becomes too much," Jianglai offered quietly, "tell me. I’ll send photos. Fantasies can be so... dry."