7:00 PM. Coach Dan led the group—including Lu Li—to a well-known local restaurant. Normally, athletes’ diets were strictly controlled before competitions ended, and unvetted food was off-limits. But Coach Dan clearly didn’t care about these “minor” rules. After all, she was a former national-level athlete coaching in Chuanhai. In Lu Li’s past life, she’d even pulled strings to get Zou Yamei into the provincial team. Simply put, Coach Dan was far more than just a coach.

That afternoon, Lu Li checked out. Under the innkeeper’s resentful gaze, he slung his backpack and left—then moved into the hotel without a flicker of embarrassment. Coach Dan had waved a hand and booked him a new room. The stern-faced, usually unsmiling coach regarded Lu Li with unusual warmth.

He soon faced a swarm of overly energetic female athletes. They circled Lu Li, peppering him with questions. A few bold ones even pinched his cheeks. *This is what happens when you slack off,* he thought. *No effort, and you become women’s plaything.* The moment Sister Yamei and Coach Dan returned, the girls instantly straightened up, transforming into proper young ladies.

“Waaah, Little Li~ What skincare do you use? Your skin’s so smooth!” Zhou Wen, the most mischievous of the group, practically drooled.

A bead of sweat traced Lu Li’s temple. “I don’t use any.”

Sister Yamei strode over and pinched her best friend’s nose. “Oh? So while I was gone, you got handsy?”

“Stop! Pinch harder and my nose’ll flatten—I won’t attract any guys!”

Zou Yamei sat beside Lu Li, gently taking his hand. “Did they do anything to you?”

*Do anything? Sister, you have no idea how “enthusiastic” the girls from the sports school can be.* Lu Li subtly wiped his sweat.

“The sisters were all very kind,” he said.

Zou Yamei shot her teammates a skeptical glance. She knew their antics too well.

“None of you lay a finger on my little brother. Absolutely not!” she declared with captain-like firmness. She rarely flaunted her status—which was why everyone liked her.

After idle chat and a round of poker—literal playing cards—the clock struck seven. The girls trailed excitedly behind Zou Yamei, chattering about Lingyue City: which dishes were tasty, which wouldn’t add weight, which had L-carnitine to slim you down the more you ate.

Seated and halfway through the meal, talk turned to today’s match.

“Xiao Meng, checked online? Your match video hit 100k views! You’re going viral!”

“That final shot was so cool! So powerful—I feel like it’d punch a hole through anyone!”

“Right?! He Ping was totally stunned! Never thought she’d get shut out!”

Coach Dan chuckled, popping a beer can. “Anyone under eighteen? Skip the alcohol.”

“To Xiao Meng!”

“Long live Captain Yamei!”

Lu Li’s cup held Wangzai milk, but he clinked glasses anyway. He wasn’t close to the Chuanhai women’s table tennis team, yet the warm atmosphere pulled him in. Truth was, Lu Li was pessimistic by nature—but he cherished this bright, lively energy. It made him feel his existence held, at least, a sliver of meaning.

His gaze drifted to Sister Yamei—just as her eyes met his. Thick, almost tangible affection flowed from her look: half joy, half something he couldn’t decipher.

Lu Li drained his milk and poured beer. He rarely drank. Tonight, he hoped to get drunk.

As drinks flowed, the girls grew bolder. Lu Li stayed silent, eyes fixed on Sister Yamei, refilling his glass again and again. Zou Yamei laughed freely, slightly flushed, chatting without restraint. This Zou Yamei was beautiful—not physically, but like a bird with light-gilded wings, radiating freedom.

In his past life, the only time Zou Yamei got drunk was on his graduation day, when he’d brought An Baili to meet her. He barely remembered her words—only how she dragged him to drink case after case, until her cheeks burned red and her eyes turned hazy.

Today, she seemed drunk again. Leaning on Zhou Wen’s shoulder, she sang “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” horribly off-key. Lu Li smiled faintly. *So off-key… customers will complain.* After a few more sips, his head swam. Zou Yamei blurred into three figures.

Somehow, the girls started comparing waist sizes, hiking up tops right in the private room. Lu Li chuckled dizzily, raising his glass: “None of you… have waists as slim as Sister Yamei’s… Why even argue… My Sister Yamei is the… the…”

Glass set down. He collapsed onto the table, out cold. His fall triggered a chain reaction—teammates slumped over one by one, snoring loudly with zero decorum. Only Coach Dan sat straight, sighing in resignation before calling another coach to drive the girls back.

“Huh? Yamei, you’re not drunk?”

Zou Yamei lifted her head. Rosy flush on her cheeks, but her eyes—crystal clear. She never got drunk; even Lu Li didn’t know her tolerance was ironclad. Beer alone couldn’t touch her. She gave a soft “Mm,” walked to Lu Li, and gently lifted her little brother.

He slept deeply, mouth open, drool trickling—a stark contrast to his usual solemn self. A mischievous smile touched her lips. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling the scent she’d always loved.

“I’ll take Little Li back first~”

“I called a ride.”

“No need. He has a weak constitution—sleeping out here might give him a cold.”

She supported the unconscious Lu Li out, hailed a taxi, and returned to the hotel.

She laid him on the bed, tucked him in, but didn’t leave. Lights off. Her glistening eyes shimmered in the dark. Slowly, she leaned close. Warm breath brushed his sleeping face. After a long pause, resolve hardened. Her lips covered his, parting them gently. Her tongue swirled in the moist warmth, entwining with his.

She cradled his face, heat flooding her body—especially her ears, burning crimson.

“Little Li…”

“Awake?”

“If you’re not… I’ll take it as consent~”

She undid his shirt buttons. Her tongue trailed down to his chest. She’d never told him: Little Li always smelled so tempting, like Tang Seng meat—a legendary delicacy she’d longed to taste. Now was the chance. Her tongue circled his skin, teeth closing softly for a light nibble, like tasting a raisin.

The sensation shattered her restraint. Years of suppressed desire surged like a tide. Her breath hitched; her legs pressed tightly together.

Then—*beep-beep*.

Lu Li’s phone lit up. A message from a contact with a golden retriever avatar:

[Silly Goose: Can’t sleep… Lu Li, are you there?]

[Silly Goose: Can I call you…?]

Like ice water poured over her head, Zou Yamei froze.

[Lu Li: Who are you?]

[Silly Goose: ???]