Yingyu Chi never expected her brother-in-law to be so generous—no, to be generous *because* of her.

Jianglai’s soft spot for her stemmed from her uniqueness, bordering on indulgence: every request granted without hesitation.

In many ways, Jianglai’s care for her sister-in-law surpassed even her devotion to her own daughter.

Facing her wife’s younger sister, Jianglai couldn’t muster the sternness of an elder. Their dynamic leaned toward friendship, toward equals.

How could she lecture an adult who understood life better than she did? Yingyu must have her own plans.

“But just temporarily, okay?”

Jianglai turned her face away from Yingyu’s radiant, breathtaking smile. That raw, hungry gaze was unbearable.

Her sister-in-law seemed to strip her bare—every hidden corner laid open, every secret exposed.

“You can imagine me… but don’t fixate. Share some sites with me too. Release your desires… healthily.”

Yingyu watched Jianglai avert his eyes again, long strands of hair veiling half his face. She couldn’t see his expression—but the crimson ears peeking through the strands betrayed his flustered heart.

“But… I only crave real people.”

Yingyu gently swept the hair behind Jianglai’s ear. His eyes held a delicate, almost feline allure, the faint flush at their corners heartbreakingly tender.

From Yingyu’s vantage point, Jianglai looked fragile. So achingly vulnerable. She longed to crush him into her bones, to keep him forever.

*Jianglai… my brother-in-law is perfect.* Perfect enough to justify any means to keep him—even if the world condemned them.

Even if it betrayed her niece. Even if it shattered her sister’s trust. She craved him anyway.

Yingyu knew she was selfish. This sister-in-law-and-brother-in-law bond was never what she wanted. If only she’d been older back then… everything might be different.

Her fingertips stilled. Today was a windfall: she’d left her mark on Jianglai *and* won his consent to fantasize—openly, guiltlessly.

—

—

Today’s Yingyu shattered every assumption Jianglai ever held. Yet the thought of becoming her sister-in-law’s fantasy fodder made Jianglai’s pulse flutter wildly.

Why had she proposed this? Her own motives felt hazy, buried under years of masks.

For over a decade, Jianglai had hidden her true self—polishing the armor of a dependable pillar until she forgot what lay beneath.

*Who was I before?*

Before becoming a woman, before age dulled desire into quiet embers.

But now… this new body reignited old hungers. Thoughts she’d buried resurfaced. Cravings she’d mastered now writhed beneath her skin.

Once, she’d lived like a sage—detached, serene. Age had cooled those fires.

Now? She craved touch. Even Yingyu’s fingers on her skin sparked secret joy.

Last night’s dream had sealed it: a decade of solitude had turned her into a dam on the verge of collapse.

—

The office’s charged tension dissolved into quiet satisfaction. Yingyu settled at her desk, energized, ready to conquer her workload.

Jianglai sat obediently on the sofa, wrapped in a small blanket. She scrolled her phone, then stole glances at Yingyu—switching between the two until her sister-in-law finished work.

Her thumb hovered over Xu Ruobing’s chat. Ten minutes passed. No message sent.

*Was this right?*

That drunken night at the bar could be blamed on alcohol—or her own hidden will. Either way, excuses existed.

But now? Stone-cold sober.

Jianglai shifted subtly on the sofa, angling her phone away from Yingyu’s view. A futile gesture.

After a fierce inner battle, she typed a flirtatious message to Xu Ruobing.

She shot a furtive glance at Yingyu—still focused on work—and exhaled. *No witnesses. No social death.*

—

Across town, Xu Ruobing jolted upright at her desk. Jianglai had just invited her for drinks.

At *that* women-only bar. Where they’d nearly crossed the line.

*Xu Ruobing’s heart hammered.* This wasn’t casual. It couldn’t be.