Ning Moxin and Zhou You shared a strikingly similar view of Ning Mengmeng—both believed conventional methods wouldn’t steer her back on track.

“I may have been a bit blunt. It’s only natural you’re surprised,” Ning Moxin said softly, refilling the teacup after Zhou You remained silent a moment.

Hard to imagine someone like her uttering such words just seconds ago.

“…”

More than blunt—it was a soul-striking remark.

Zhou You sipped the warm tea. The smooth liquid soothed his nerves as it flowed into his mouth.

He’d already struck a deal with Ning Mengmeng. This “transaction” with Ning Moxin was pure bonus, and given their good rapport, he had zero reason to refuse.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Proceed with full confidence. I trust you.”

“Understood.”

A silent understanding settled between them. They chatted awhile longer. When Ning Moxin learned Zhou You’s profession, she offered a mysterious smile—piquing his curiosity, though he couldn’t pry details loose.

Gurgle… gurgle…

The last wisp of steam vanished from the teapot spout. The tea cooled. With matters settled, Zhou You rose to leave.

“Chatting with you was a pleasure, Sister Mo.”

“I’m glad. I worried you’d find me chatty after just meeting.”

“Not at all.”

Zhou You stepped out. Ning Mengmeng, waiting outside, exchanged a few words with him before shuffling reluctantly into the office and closing the door.

Inside, Ning Moxin tidied the tea set, rose from the desk. Colorful tassels on her skirt swayed gently as she walked behind her desk and gazed at her niece.

“Mengmeng.” Her voice was soft. “Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

“Someone delivered a letter for you, Auntie.” Ning Mengmeng handed over a pale pink envelope.

Ning Moxin glanced at it, noticed the seal had been tampered with. She raised an eyebrow, drew out the letter. “You read it?”

“Uh…”

Ning Mengmeng looked away. Of course she’d peeked—someone sent a love letter to her stunning aunt using such an old-fashioned method. Curiosity won.

“You…”

Ning Moxin showed no anger. Unfolding the page, she skimmed it and read aloud in a gentle tone:

“Waking up, I find myself loving you deeply.

I wish to write poetry—of rain, of night’s longing, of you—but words fail me.

From today, I await our meeting with joyful anticipation.

During these days apart, I’ll count the hours. I’ll tear two calendar pages each day.”

“So beautifully written!” Ning Mengmeng’s eyes sparkled. Even having peeked earlier, hearing her aunt recite it still left her in awe.

A true scholar-and-beauty match. Only a refined, erudite gentleman could suit someone like her aunt.

Ning Moxin let out a soft chuckle, shook her head. She folded the letter neatly, slipped it back into the envelope, and handed it to Ning Mengmeng.

“Go burn this letter.”

“Why?!”

Ning Moxin’s expression turned serious. She studied the girl intently. “Copy the letter’s contents three hundred times before burning it. I’ll check tonight.”

“Huh?”

“This is Zhu Shenghao’s love letter to Song Qingru. I assigned it as essay material for you to memorize—how did you not recognize it?” A teacher’s quiet authority surfaced on her face.

“Mmph…”

“Still hesitating? Think three hundred’s too few? Make it five hundred. I’ve got time today to supervise you personally.”

Ning Mengmeng snatched the letter and stumbled out the door, privately admitting: her aunt truly was a terrifying woman.

…

While Ning Mengmeng suffered through copying the poem, Zhou You waited for the elevator. Just as he stepped toward it, a woman inside blocked his path.

“Sister Hua?” Zhou You blinked. *What’s Yun Mingyue doing here?*

“I’m here for a ‘big’ project,” Yun Mingyue said lightly, stepping out on stiletto heels. Her black-stockinged legs carried her closer to him.

Zhou You couldn’t enter. The doors closed, descended to floor one, then began climbing again.

“And you? What brings you here?” Yun Mingyue stepped nearer. The button on her white blouse strained slightly—perhaps nightly milk *was* working.

“I just finished meeting Sister Mo.” Zhou You answered truthfully. Group chat members all knew.

“Still calling her ‘Sister Mo’?” Yun Mingyue chuckled. “Shuimo Nianhua must be some middle-aged uncle, right?”

“Well…”

Zhou You glanced at the display—floor two. “Sister Hua, please don’t say that in the group. Sister Mo is a gentle young woman. She’s the school principal.”

“You mean… Shuimo Nianhua is Ning Moxin?”

Zhou You nodded. Yun Mingyue’s expression shifted. Chen Tangtang too? Ning Moxin too? Were they that bored, joining such a group? Was playing RPGs with a young boy really that fun? …Actually, maybe it was. Yun Mingyue recalled her own participation and couldn’t genuinely scorn these idle, wealthy ladies.

“Is she very beautiful?” Yun Mingyue and Ning Moxin weren’t close—only a few meetings. But under Yun Group’s name, she’d help. They moved in the same Hangzhou circles.

“Yes,” Zhou You nodded. “Once you’ve seen her, it’s hard to forget.”

Yun Mingyue narrowed her eyes, stepped closer. Zhou You retreated helplessly into the emergency stairwell, backing until his heels hit the wall.

“Sister Hua?” Zhou You struck a mock surrender pose.

Yun Mingyue arched her black-stockinged leg between his, lips brushing his ear. “Tell me… do you think Sister Hua is beautiful?”

“B-Beautiful,” Zhou You stammered, composure fraying.

“I’m asking… which part do you find most beautiful?” Her tongue extended—a hair’s breadth from his earlobe. He felt the damp warmth… then nothing.

His gaze drifted downward involuntarily. She kept her poised distance, unlike Chen Tangtang’s unrestrained closeness. Yet that “curve” felt overwhelmingly near. Flustered, he turned away—then sneaked another glance seconds later.

“Like this part of Sister Hua?”

“No! I just… think you’re a bit smaller than Sister Bing.”

“Huh?”

*What did I just say?!* Zhou You froze in self-shock.

His eyes met Yun Mingyue’s just as the elevator chime sounded.