“Huh?! Why does Ruihui want me to be your maid? I’ve got zero experience—I’ll mess everything up.”

Mu Yao suddenly realized the gravity of the situation. *He’s a boy!* How could he possibly serve as a maid for another boy?!

No way. Absolutely not!

“No worries~ So… do you agree or not?” Nangong Ruihui playfully tilted Mu Yao’s chin up.

“O-okay… If it’s for you, Ruihui… then fine.”

“Mmm~”

Nangong Ruihui felt satisfied. Mu Yao clearly wasn’t one to break promises—even with visible reluctance, she’d agreed. That meant only two things:

Either she liked her… or she *really* liked her.

…

Saturday. Nangong Ruihui rarely crossed paths with her father, Nangong Yao—and even rarer was meeting at the family home, a place neither visited often.

As head of a major clan, Nangong Yao was buried in critical affairs daily. His home visits each year could be counted on one hand. For Ruihui, the house simply lacked warmth. A home without Mom, with Dad always absent, didn’t feel like home—and even her four older sisters had long gone their separate ways.

“Daddy~” Ruihui softened, curling up beside him on the sofa to watch TV.

“Ruihui, this male disguise suits you far better than dresses. Dad’s pleased!” Nangong Yao studied his daughter again and again, nodding approvingly.

“If you wanted a son, just say so! Why tease me?!” Ruihui muttered, stung. *I look better in dresses—I am a girl!*

The man before her—face slightly lined yet vibrant—was her father. Months had passed since she last saw him.

He was perfect in every way… except for the time he never gave her. That hurt more than his pressure to climb society’s pyramid. She understood the clan leadership had always gone to the capable. Born female, she started at a disadvantage against her uncles’ sons. Fail after taking over? She’d be replaced without mercy.

Still… Father only wanted the best for her. Weakness meant ruthless elimination.

“Enough about gender. Did you meet the Mu family child I mentioned?”

“*Her*…? Yes.” Ruihui’s mind instantly pictured Mu Yao smiling at her.

“Pleased?”

“Dad… are you asking as the clan head, or as *my* father?”

“Don’t overthink it! Your feelings come first. If you disliked *him*, I’d rethink everything—the Mu family isn’t what it used to be. *Then* we’d consider clan interests.”

“But… but… *she’s* a girl…”

Ruihui flushed. *Dad didn’t even say if it was a boy or girl… all that hoping for nothing.*

“A girl?! Impossible! My intel said *boy*!” Nangong Yao nearly shot up.

“I have proof.”

She’d anticipated this. During PE class, she’d snapped a photo of Mu Yao.

The shot was flawless. Truly—cuteness overrode everything. In the image, Mu Yao watching basketball looked every bit a delicate beauty: posture poised, grace radiating, the epitome of aristocratic elegance.

“Damn it!” Nangong Yao cursed—a shock; Ruihui couldn’t recall him ever swearing.

“Xiao Wang! Get over here!”

“Coming, sir! What’s wrong, Old Master? So angry?”

Secretary Xiao Wang hurried over, baffled. He’d always been diligent—what had he done?

“*Why* am I angry?! Look at this!” Nangong Yao slammed the photo onto the glass table.

“This…” Xiao Wang froze. Undeniably a girl. Adorably, unmistakably *not* a boy.

“Must be a mix-up. My fault.” He tried to cover himself.

*Wait… impossible. I pulled the ID number…*

Maybe they’d targeted the wrong Mu child.

“Leave.” Nangong Yao handed the photo back to Ruihui and dismissed him.

“Well… this simplifies things. I’d considered an alliance between you two. Now? Just look after the Mu girl at Yingshengya Academy. It’s the least I can do for the missing Mu Xiaotian.”

“Your marriage can wait. Since she’s a girl, the engagement’s void. I’ll find you someone suitable later—or you might meet someone at the academy. Most students there come from wealthy families.” His voice softened.

“Understood, Dad.”

His reasoning was sound. Early marriage was common in clans. Yet… a faint pang of regret stirred in Ruihui’s chest.

Adjusting his tie, Nangong Yao stood. The board meeting awaited.

“Dad… will you come with me on Mom’s memorial day?” Ruihui asked lightly, eyes fixed on Mu Yao’s photo.

“Next time. I’ll be abroad for something more urgent.” He glanced back—then quickly turned away as she lifted her head. “Xiao Wang. Car. Headquarters.”

Ruihui watched him leave. No anger. Not the first time. Just… the difference between one person and two.

The night after her twelfth birthday, Mom died in a car crash—gone forever. That violin became her last memory. So the competition played on it *had* to be won. *Had to.*

It carried Ruihui’s impossible wish. Even if shattered beyond repair, she’d never let it go.

She felt Father’s doubled care after Mom left… but what good was it? Mom was gone. Now he couldn’t even join her on the memorial day.

*He just hasn’t remarried because he’s busy…* Ruihui never understood his vague answers. Even that night Mom died… he hadn’t shed a single tear.

*“Yaoyao… if I ever told you this… would you understand how much it hurts?”*

Ruihui gently traced Mu Yao’s face in the photo, vision blurring.