Bai Ningning did a quick mental math. “Forty yuan.”

Qin Yue blinked. “Only forty?”

“Yep, just forty,” Bai Ningning said, counting on her fair fingers. “Round-trip subway tickets, two milk teas. Total: forty.”

One cup was treating her junior—that papaya milk tea.

“And this?” Qin Yue pointed at the shopping bag by the bed.

“They bought it for me,” Bai Ningning answered honestly.

“Bought it for *you*?”

“Yes. For me.”

Didn’t I just say that? Not hearing clearly or what?

Qin Yue felt her blood boil again. “I was emphasizing! I *heard* you—same as before!”

“Huh?”

“I mean—*why* would they buy you this?!”

“Oh, gratitude,” Bai Ningning lifted her pretty face calmly. “Thanking me, their senior, for helping them.”

Another hot surge rose in Qin Yue. “Could you just say that upfront?”

Is one extra sentence gonna kill you?

Bai Ningning blinked innocently. “But… it’s totally normal. I thought it was obvious.”

*Normal?*

Qin Yue suddenly stilled.

Thinking carefully—even if that “green tea” was 99% at fault… wasn’t she 1% impulsive too?

To a normal person, it *was* obvious. No need to explain. But her? Her own issues made her miss the obvious.

Maybe she *was* wrong. Couldn’t let emotions ignite a raid.

That wasn’t right.

Qin Yue fully calmed. “So… what did they buy you?”

“Nothing much,” Bai Ningning turned to her phone. “Look if you want.”

So open… must be totally normal stuff.

Qin Yue reached, opened the bag.

First: bowl-shaped, snow-white with floral threads—*Snow Maiden*.

Second: ribbon-style, soft white fabric like tassels—*Snow Princess*.

Third: a single black strip—*Maiden in Black Thigh-Highs on Snow*. (Put them on… white pillow = snow. Get it?)

Qin Yue pressed her temples, held up two items. “Juniors thanked you… with *these*?”

“Yep,” Bai Ningning tilted her cute face obediently. “Why else?”

Qin Yue silently returned everything, tucked the bag deep in the wardrobe, shut the door tight—*to protect the loot*.

Sorry. Even if heaven itself descended today… this raid *must* launch.

Bai Ningning sensed the shift. Air thickened, scorching—like a Berserker activating Berserk.

She glanced down. Her yukata collar? Gone.

Oh. Not just Berserk. *Bloodthirst* and *Frenzy* were live too.

Watching the advancing older sister, Bai Ningning gave her final head tilt of the day. “One question first?”

“Ask.”

“Do dual blades count as colorless?”

“Yes,” Qin Yue’s Soul-Devouring Hand seized her, “but raids don’t ban colorless cubes.”

…Weren’t we using *cannons*?

Bai Ningning’s thoughts drowned in roaring fury. Today, Qin Yue became Rage Warrior—unleashing infinite wrath, dealing 99,999,999.

The raid boss’s pain? *Hers*.

“Meow… I surrender.”

“No surrender today.”

Not even if heaven intervened.

Once, a Berserker in Dark Blood Reckless armor cleared Black Volcano. Today, the older sister speedran White Snow Mountain—*naked*.

*Snow Maiden*, huh?

She went full *“Blade in the Snow”* mode.

Night fell. Lights out. Antun defeated. Success.

Dawn broke. Still asleep.

By noon, Qin Yue—constitution slightly sturdier—woke first.

Berserker mode *hurts*. Entering dungeon at 20% HP, stacking vulnerability buffs? Recipe for wipe.

She stepped out, sipped congee brought by the maid. Regained a sliver of HP.

Good thing nothing urgent awaited. Rest first.

Later, Bai Ningning slept straight through afternoon—merging night and nap—waking groggy.

Weird. Last night she did *nothing*. Just scrolled phone. Answered every question obediently.

Why was Older Sister angry?

Why… *ne*?

“Stop mumbling ‘hmm’ and ‘ne’—I can’t hear you,” Qin Yue’s voice came. “Can you get up?”

Bai Ningning finally noticed her sitting nearby.

A hand slipped under covers—pinched her slender waist, pressed soft thighs. Sore. Like frog-jumping three laps around a 5,000-meter track.

“Can’t.”

She blinked those lovely eyes. Expressionless face—pitiful. Adorable.

“Then sit up. Wait.”

Qin Yue returned with the work laptop, placed it on her lap.

Bai Ningning: “?”

“Work time,” Qin Yue said. “Remember your role: my secretary *and* assistant.”

Bai Ningning blinked slightly. “Secretary… or assistant?”

“Both. Open it.”

While flipping the lid, she muttered, “After last project… no new projects, right?”

“No *won* bids,” Qin Yue corrected. “But small proposals? Toss one together. Call it relaxation.”

*Good grief.* “Relaxation”? So *this* is the vibrant, iron-willed CEO in her twenties.

Admired? Terrified.

Bai Ningning tilted her head left. “What do I do?”

*Today’s first tilt.*

Qin Yue considered. “New folder on desktop.”

Tap. Tap. Slender fingers flew.

“Done.”

“Rename: *New Proposal*.”

“…”

Bai Ningning renamed it, dropped in Word/Excel/PPT templates, clicked updates, watched the bar zip to completion. “Ready. Next?”

“Put it down. Eat. In bed’s fine—the maid’s bringing the tray.”

Bai Ningning tilted right. Eyes screaming *question mark*.

“Proposal details? Not set. We’ll brainstorm over food,” Qin Yue said.