Qin Yue’s curiosity piqued. “What’s on your mind?”

Unbelievable. To reduce a heartless, high-level “little green tea” to whimpering—what earth-shattering matter could it be?

“I… I’d rather not say,” Bai Ningning mumbled, hugging the pillow tightly.

This kind of thing feels tear-jerking when you dwell on it alone, but voicing it out loud? Way too embarrassing.

“Fine, skip it. New topic,” Qin Yue asked, “Done ‘playing’ with your underclassmen?”

She was in a great mood today. The company project wrapped up smoothly, freeing her to focus on the Bai Ningning at home.

“It’s not ‘playing’,” Bai Ningning said seriously. “I’m volunteering—helping freshmen as a senior sister.”

“Alright. And how will you help next?”

“Nothing worth mentioning. The underclassmen are from out of town, I just helped them… Wait.”

Bai Ningning suddenly remembered something, fidgeting slightly with unease. “Qin Yue… could I… ask you for a favor?”

Qin Yue arched a delicate eyebrow. “Oh?”

“It’s just… for shopping, I need a little…” Bai Ningning squeezed the pillow tighter. “Money.”

Awkward silence.

Qin Yue paused a moment, then smiled elegantly. “Money? Absolutely essential for shopping. On a day this hot, you couldn’t even grab a cold drink.” She pulled out another bank card and set it on her plush pillow. “But if you want it… shouldn’t you put on a little performance?”

Bai Ningning glanced at her. *You sure you want me to “perform” this?*

Comparing pillows too? Is this the legendary female competitiveness? Fine.

She took the card and, under Qin Yue’s puzzled gaze, placed it squarely on the large pillow.

Perfectly level. Not a tilt. Clearly the winner.

*Whap!* Qin Yue swatted her hand while snatching the card back. “I didn’t mean *this* kind of performance, dummy.”

“Ouch…” Bai Ningning winced. “You should’ve been clearer. I thought you were taking advantage.”

“You touched it too. What right do you have to accuse me?”

…Fair point.

“The ‘performance’ I want,” Qin Yue crossed her arms, radiating mature sisterly charm, “is you spilling what you didn’t want to say earlier. Go on—about that ‘reluctant-to-share’ worry.”

Oh. *That’s* what she meant.

Bai Ningning fell silent for a beat, then spoke hesitantly. “The club I wanted to join… it’s gone.”

“Your Chayi Society—the one that cultivates ‘little green teas’?”

“No, not that… Wait, you *know* about the Chayi Society?”

“Obviously,” Qin Yue scoffed. “After dating that long, I know what I need to know.”

“It’s not what you think. Another club. Its old philosophy couldn’t keep up, so it got merged,” Bai Ningning lay back, gazing at the ceiling, eyes shadowed with sorrow. “I just wonder… am I getting too old to keep up…”

“Stop,” Qin Yue cut in. “How old are you?”

Bai Ningning looked down. “About…”

“Your *age*. Not *there*. I know *that* very well.”

“Oh. Twenty-four.”

The older sister crossed her arms. The younger looked up with wide eyes.

Expression calm. Gaze faint.

Qin Yue let out an exasperated laugh. “Did you forget? You showed me your ID when we dated—seventeen years old.”

That lovely ID photo. Qin Yue had stared at it all night.

“Oh,” Bai Ningning blinked. “Then… seventeen.”

“Seventeen was *last year*!”

“Then… eighteen.”

*Eighteen has to be right.*

“You *know* you’re eighteen. How can you say you’re ‘too old’?” Qin Yue frowned, suspicion dawning. “Are you lying to me?”

*Impossible. I’d never dare.*

Aloud, Bai Ningning’s cherry lips murmured, “No. I can’t even be bothered to lie to you.”

…Close enough.

Qin Yue’s tone sharpened. “You never lied while dating? You kept saying you loved—”

She froze. Wait. She never *did* say it. Not “love.” Not even “I like you.”

Good grief. How did I fall for her? Blinded by her “Bai Ball” act?

“Anyway, truth told,” Bai Ningning eyed the bank card hopefully. “So…”

“You thought I’d give you *this*?” Qin Yue smirked. “Eight figures inside.” She tucked the card between the pillows. “Such a valuable card deserves a deep, meaningful ‘sleeve.’”

“I’ll send a red packet. Accept it.”

Phone out, chat open, red packet tapped. Qin Yue typed a number—paused.

*Too much. Erase one zero.*

*Still too much. What if she quits working for me? Erase another.*

*Wait… erase one more. Then I can use “economic pressure” anytime.*

Three zeros vanished. Labeled “Sustainable Development,” sent.

Bai Ningning stared at the 1,000-yuan notification, stunned.

“Too little? Sorry. That’s all your performance earned,” Qin Yue smiled smugly. “No take-backs. Words spoken are like spilt water.”

The older sister glowed with victory.

Bai Ningning snapped back, sincere: “Sister Yueyue, thank you *so* much.”

Chat a bit, earn a grand? She’d chatter until the villa’s deed changed names!

“Sarcasm won’t work. That’s final. Maybe next time—if I’m in a good mood.”

“Hehe. Thank you.”

Honorifics included. Utterly genuine.

Qin Yue felt pleased—but they’d already “rolled the sheets” this morning. Skill cooldown not ready. No second round tonight.

So they simply held each other and drifted to sleep.

Qin Yue: satisfied. New method to “tame” the little green tea. Only spent 1,000 yuan. Total win.

Bai Ningning: thrilled. Words = cash. Is this the power of a pretty girl and “Bai Ball”? Love it.

Lights out. Peaceful dreams. Everything harmonious, beautiful—as if a world where no one gets hurt had finally been achieved.