After the police left, the homeroom teacher comforted Lulu Lu with a few gentle words, then told her not to overthink it and return to class.

That day, Lulu openly slacked off—distracted, absent-minded, her focus completely gone. The teacher, too awkward to scold her, even warned the other instructors. Not once was Lulu called on to answer a question all day.

Before dismissal, Lulu visited the homeroom teacher again.

She said Lily Liu’s disappearance left her deeply upset, stirring dark emotions. She couldn’t sleep soundly at school and asked to commute from home for a while.

As expected, the teacher approved—but added protocol required informing Yanyan Lu, their guardian.

She placed the call.

Lulu’s pulse raced. Would this older sister of hers agree? If not… Lily trapped in the basement would be in serious trouble.

The call ended swiftly.

Heart hammering, Lulu took a slow breath, masking her anxiety.

“What did my sister say?”

“Lulu, she said yes. She’ll pick you up after school.”

Relief washed over her—then froze.

“What? Pick me up?”

The teacher nodded. “She asked you to wait. She’s on her way.”

Helpless, Lulu nodded.

After school, Yanyan Lu stood precisely on time at the gate.

Spotting Lulu, she spoke flatly: “Lulu. Follow me.”

Her voice was winter-cold. To Lulu, Yanyan had always been a block of ice—no warmth, no expression, utterly unthawable.

“Mm.”

Even a genuine yandere like Lulu bowed her head under her real older sister’s presence, trailing silently behind.

All her allowance came from Yanyan. Upsetting her? Disaster.

With their parents gone, Yanyan—ten years her senior—had become guardian, provider, mother figure.

Rarely did Lulu ride in Yanyan’s luxury business sedan. Worth roughly 2 million RMB (a Blue Planet Celestial Empire fortune), it was just one car in Yanyan’s garage.

*Damn rich woman.*

—Wait. It’s my real sister… and she supports me. Never mind.

Inside the car, Lulu stole cautious glances. Why had Yanyan come? Unease coiled in her chest.

At 24, Yanyan stood tall in heels—175 cm, curves flawless. She and Lulu shared oval faces, high noses, large eyes. But where Lulu was youthful, Yanyan carried mature elegance. The same features, yet on her face bloomed a cold pride—like plum blossoms on a snowpeak, untouched by mortal dust.

Ice queen, through and through.

Childhood memories of Yanyan were scarce; she’d always lived apart. Lulu only knew: academic prodigy, research genius. Entered Citrus City’s top university at 18. PhD candidate at 24. Inherited company shares. Upper-class, effortlessly brilliant—the novel-perfect genius heroine and domineering CEO.

Noticing Lulu’s stare, Yanyan asked, “Something on my face?”

Lulu looked away quickly. “N-no! I just… missed you. It’s been so long.”

Yanyan’s eyes held a flicker—unreadable. “I see.”

Before Lulu could ask why she’d been picked up (the bus would’ve worked fine), Yanyan spoke first:

“Little sister… about Lily’s disappearance. And what you two did at home. Is there anything else you know?”

Lulu stiffened. “I told the officer everything.”

Yanyan’s tone turned frosty. “Don’t lie to me.”

Lulu swallowed hard. “…Sis, I really don’t know anything else.”

Silence.

Yanyan’s voice softened with disappointment. “Lulu. I’m your only family. If you can’t trust me… who can you trust?”

Lulu believed it. In that cleaver ending, Yanyan had spent fortunes—bribes, influence—to keep her out of jail. And succeeded.

“I went home,” Yanyan continued, voice slow as a verdict. “Found things you bought. Open the compartment.”

Trembling, Lulu lifted the lid.

There they were. The tools she’d hidden for Lily.

Her blood ran cold. Pale, breathless—how to explain? She’d buried them deep.

After a long pause: “Sis… these are… for me.”

“And this?” Yanyan tossed a slip of paper. The delivery receipt. *Ahem.*

“Third item: pink handcuffs. Why did you buy them?”

Lulu had thrown the box—and this—into the villa’s outdoor trash bin.

Yanyan had *dug through the trash*.

Stunned, defeated, Lulu whispered:

“…Romance handcuffs. For… romance.”