Liang Lin slipped into Liang Di’s bed like a nimble loach with a soft *slip*.

Liang Di regarded her with helpless resignation.

“You sure you won’t help me?” Liang Di glanced down at her own legs.

Oh right—she’d almost forgotten there was someone with a disability here.

Liang Lin climbed out, looped one arm around Liang Di’s neck, lifted the other girl’s leg with her free hand, and casually asked, “So… how’d your leg end up like this?”

The next second, her fingers stilled. Beneath the long nightgown, Liang Di’s leg felt unnaturally soft—boneless, like tender clay.

“Huh. Your leg’s… really soft.”

A flicker of alertness flashed in Liang Di’s eyes.

“Well… disabled legs aren’t like normal ones,” she replied evenly.

Liang Lin nodded, accepting it.

“But how did it happen?”

Liang Di paused. “As far back as I remember, they’ve always been this way. I don’t know the details.”

*Tsk, tsk, tsk.* Tragic. Liang Lin wasn’t the sympathetic type—just a faint pity that the girl couldn’t enjoy ordinary joys.

She settled Liang Di back into bed, tucked her in, then slid under the covers herself. First time sharing a bed. Awkward. Hands fumbling, she decided: *Time to play weak.*

—*CRACK!*

Lightning split the sky. Thunder boomed. The bed trembled.

*Now!*

Our flustered little villainess gritted her teeth, squeezed her eyes shut, and pressed flush against Liang Di. Arms locked tight around the other girl’s arm. Modesty? Forgotten.

“W-wah… I’m scared…”

*Oh my God.* Did that sickly-sweet whimper really come from *her* throat? Liang Lin shuddered.

Liang Di sucked in a sharp breath. Softness pressed against her chest. A green glint flickered in her eyes—then vanished. She forced calm into her voice: “Shh… it’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

*Clumsy at comforting kids, huh?*

Another flash. Thunder exploded like firecrackers.

This time, Liang Lin overdid it—calf draped over Liang Di’s leg, whimpering, chest brushing rhythmically.

“Hey, you—”

Liang Di’s cheeks flushed. Her green pupils glowed faintly in the dark.

“Just… sleep. I—" She held her breath.

But Liang Lin was lost in her act—clinging, cooing, inwardly cringing at her own fakeness.

*Ugh.*

Liang Di rolled over, cradled Liang Lin’s head against her chest, voice low and husky: “Be good. Sleep. Don’t move.”

*Huh?*

Nestled there, Liang Lin heard the steady *thump-thump* of Liang Di’s heartbeat. Heat flooded her face. *So… pure.*

Liang Di’s scent washed over her. Drowsiness crashed down.

*Weird… Why so heavy? Vision blurry… Mind drifting… Wasn’t tired before…*

*So… sleepy…*

*Goal’s done, right?*

*Then…*

*Just… a little nap…*

*Mm…*

Soft, even snores filled the quiet.

Liang Di held her tighter.

Silence stretched.

“Call this… payment for keeping me company.”

Liang Lin jolted mid-dream. A warm patch *down there*—something soft, sinuous, pressing snugly through thin fabric, wriggling slowly.

“Mmm…"

A sleepy, breathy whimper escaped her. She tried to push away. Liang Di held firm.

Tentacles slithered free from beneath the nightgown, coiling gently around Liang Lin, drifting like a fish returned to the sea.

*Wrong. So wrong.* Was this a dream? Strange… thrilling. A soft moan slipped out—sweet, tempting in the hush.

Liang Di swallowed hard. Arms tightened.

*Hah…*

Liang Lin’s breath hitched. Liang Di’s eyes burned brighter.

*Since we’re here… why not closer? Lose the clothes…*

—*STOP.*

*No.*

*NO.*

*NOT YET!*

Liang Di froze. Green glow dimmed. Tentacles stilled, then retreated silently beneath her gown.

*Right. Not yet.*

Lose control now? Wheelchair forever. Never see her own smooth, pale legs again. *Breathe. Just a little longer.*

“Sleep well, Liang Lin,” she whispered against the girl’s ear.

The strange warmth vanished. A hollow pang lingered. Liang Lin frowned, hummed discontentedly, and burrowed deeper.

*Hehe~*

*Maybe… coming home isn’t so bad.* Liang Di stroked her back, eyelids growing heavy.

Morning light. The space beside her was cold.

Liang Lin stretched lazily, spotted a note on Liang Di’s pillow. Elegant script:

*“Went to the Nolan household. Back by evening. Take care. And watch Duke Austen—you’re clever enough to handle it.”*

A cold laugh. Yesterday’s softness gone. Only ice remained. She crumpled the note, tossed it in the trash.

“Mind your own business, Liang Di. Worry about yourself first.”