"Yijiu, isn’t tonight’s milkshake tasty?"

Feng Yijiu glanced at the papaya milkshake Cen Man had made. She swallowed hard but shook her head firmly. Just thinking about that stuff belonging to Feng Xiong sent a slight chill down her spine.

"Sigh, Yijiu, why not?"

"This makes you grow… *here*." Feng Yijiu pointed to her chest.

"Haha, you’d grow anyway," Cen Man chuckled. "If food therapy actually worked, there’d be no flat-chested girls."

"Oh… right." Feng Yijiu blinked as if waking from a dream. *Damn those so-called experts—tricking me like that.*

"Still, Yijiu…" Cen Man smiled, glancing at her. "Might need to take you shopping for new bras soon."

Feng Yijiu rolled her eyes but went to eat anyway.

Meanwhile, Li Hao pedaled his bike outside. He realized their homes were barely five minutes apart. Following the address, he reached Feng Yijiu’s apartment building and pressed the doorbell gently.

"Coming!" Cen Man opened the door. Feng Yijiu trailed in moments later, wearing milky-white pajamas with her school jacket hastily thrown over them. To Li Hao, she looked oddly… girly.

"Your homework. I collected it for you." Li Hao handed over a bag.

"Thanks." Noticing his light sweat—and remembering he’d come all this way for her—Feng Yijiu stepped back awkwardly. "Come in and rest a bit."

"Sure." Li Hao entered and sat on the sofa.

"Yijiu!" Cen Man whispered from the kitchen.

After pouring him water, Feng Yijiu slipped inside.

"Change clothes," Cen Man murmured.

Feng Yijiu froze. *Right… after the shower, I just threw on these loose pajamas—and nothing underneath…* Her cheeks flushed. She darted into her room.

Li Hao idly scanned the living room.

Soon, Feng Yijiu emerged in her full school uniform, calm as ever, and sat beside him.

Li Hao’s eyes dropped slightly. Her bare feet were porcelain-white, tiny and delicate—each pink toe plump and rounded, ankles impossibly clean. He glanced at his own hairy legs. *Wow… her feet really are that small.*

"What are you staring at?" Feng Yijiu caught his gaze, tucked her feet under her, and curled up on the sofa.

"N-nothing!" Li Hao stammered. *She’s got a normal build, super boyish haircut… Why am I getting flustered over a guy?*

*Is this okay? …No. Not at all.*

Feng Yijiu stayed silent, sipping her warm water steadily.

"Yijiu, I’m home!" Feng Mingdong stepped in, tired but bright-eyed—then froze at the sight of the nervous boy sitting beside his daughter. His smile faded. He slipped off his shoes and walked calmly into the living room.

"Dad, you’re back."

"Uncle Feng," Li Hao greeted, unnerved by the man’s steady gaze.

"Mm." Feng Mingdong settled between them, smoothly setting out the tea set. "Xiao Li, have some tea."

"Uh… thank you, Uncle."

"No need." Feng Mingdong smiled warmly, pulling out a pack of narcissus tea. "This is excellent. Grown by a friend of mine. Last time, your dad asked—I only gave him two ounces…"

Feng Yijiu shivered inwardly.

Li Hao barely finished a sip before the cup was refilled.

"Dad, *enough*!" she finally blurted. *If this blockhead drinks more, he’ll pass out!*

Tea drunk felt way worse than alcohol drunk.

Feng Mingdong narrowed his eyes, ruffled her hair gently—*don’t interrupt*—but Feng Yijiu leaned close to his ear: "Dad… he just came to drop off homework. He’s been here five minutes."

Feng Mingdong: ??!

He set the kettle down slowly, pushed a small plate of peanut candy toward Li Hao with an awkward grin. "Eat up, Xiao Li."

After Li Hao left, Feng Mingdong turned to speak—but Feng Yijiu had already vanished into her room. He scratched his head, then smirked. *She gets those scammy tactics. Won’t get played.*

Relieved, he relaxed. As long as his daughter wasn’t the one getting hurt? Perfect. Others? Well… Feng Mingdong rather enjoyed mopping up messes.

Back home, Li Hao’s stomach sloshed uncomfortably.

"Gou Gou," Dong Shu asked gently, "your teacher said you skipped evening self-study. Everything okay?" Open-minded as always, she gave him space to explain.

"I… delivered homework for a classmate. He left early feeling unwell."

"Liu Zhiyuan? Xiao Lin?"

"No… Feng Yijiu. The one we met before."

Dong Shu nodded. *Good. Boys should take responsibility.* Pleased, she pulled out her phone.

Li Hao’s screen lit up: *WeChat Transfer — 2,000 yuan.*

"You’re grown now. Spend wisely. Don’t be stingy," she said softly.

Tears pricked his eyes. He nodded firmly.

That night, Li Hao tossed and turned—heart racing from his mom’s trust, the cash, the tea’s lingering buzz.

Next morning, he and Feng Yijiu both cut it close entering class, collapsing onto their desks the second they arrived. One sore, one exhausted.

Math teacher Mr. Jiang stared at his conspicuously empty desk… and felt a sea of question marks bloom across his forehead.