In the living room, the warm yellow star lights still twinkled.

The studio door had been shut for a while.

No sounds came from inside, and no one could guess what those two were doing.

Liu Qingning and Zhang Yan sat face to face on the sofa.

Each held a cup of warm grapefruit tea for digestion, tiny droplets clinging to the glass walls.

Without Wen Ruan’s jokey interruptions, and without Tang Song’s presence bringing that undercurrent of tension,

only two girls remained, who had just reached some kind of delicate truce.

For the first few minutes, the air was unnaturally quiet, broken only by the occasional clink of a glass against the coffee table.

Zhang Yan kept her head down, her gaze drifting toward the studio now and then.

Liu Qingning glanced at her profile, then suddenly spoke, “Can you tell me about him in middle school?”

Zhang Yan froze, then jerked her head up, a flash of panic in her eyes.

“Ah...?”

“I don’t mean anything else, really. I just want to know. We went to the same elementary school and the same class in high school. Even though Tianxue split us up, we kept in touch. Middle school is the only blank. I want to hear about it.”

“I...where should I start?”

Liu Qingning tilted her head, thinking, then smiled faintly. “Anything. Say whatever comes to mind. Anything about him is fine.”

Zhang Yan was silent for a few seconds. She set her cup down gently, hands folded over her knees, fingers slightly twisted together.

“He was...so, so sunny back then...always acting like he was the protagonist of a comic...”

She began to tell the story slowly. Her voice was soft and stammering at first, but as the floodgates of memory opened, her pace steadied.

She told how he stuffed snacks into her desk with clumsy excuses;

how he scratched at his head in frustration trying to win a game of Gomoku;

the dog-eared comic he lent her;

how his school uniform ballooned in the wind when he sped home on his bike after class.

Liu Qingning listened quietly, never interrupting.

Before today’s formal meeting,

Zhang Yan had been, to her, an abstract, threatening symbol:

a fated rival representing “another possibility,” “pure devotion,” and the “chance of stealing Tang Song away.”

She had once feared that name.

But now, with this girl sitting in front of her, piece by piece reconstructing the thirteen- or fourteen-year-old Tang Song—awkwardly melodramatic but kind and pure—something inside her seemed to silently crumble and then reassemble.

A person’s life is a long journey full of variables.

Each person is an independent individual.

Tang Song is not her private possession; his youth was not painted in a single hue, but woven from countless fragments and countless people.

She was an irreplaceable, brightest part of it.

And Zhang Yan was also an indelible gentle undertone from that period of his life.

She was a “luck” and a “possibility” the young Tang Song left for his future self.

Even Su Yu and Jin Meixiao, who had more contact with the Tang Song of a different dimension later on, each formed a piece of his life’s mosaic.

No one could truly replace another; it was more about multidimensional coexistence and completion.

Liu Qingning suddenly felt a sense of release.

She had already been fortunate enough.

From that dusty little town in elementary school to occupying most of his admiring gazes in high school, the mark she left in his life was the irreplaceable “origin” and “weight.”

Even Zhang Yan, sitting before her now.

It matched the nearly absurd truth she had long believed: perhaps all the miracles, changes, even the pain that followed, were Tang Song tearing open miracles to reverse a tragic future in which he lost her.

No matter how vast and complex his world became, no matter how many outstanding women orbited him, she would always be his firmest anchor.

This was probably the “cognitive evolution” Jin Meixiao had once mentioned.

After an indeterminate time, Zhang Yan’s narration stopped.

Silence returned to the living room.

Zhang Yan looked at Liu Qingning, who had been silent the whole time, and her unease surged again.

She bit her lower lip and suddenly whispered, “I’m sorry...”

Liu Qingning stirred from her thoughts. “Hm? For what?”

“N-nothing.” Zhang Yan flusteredly shook her head, not daring to look at her.

Seeing her so cautious, a flash of warmth passed through Liu Qingning’s eyes.

She didn’t press the unsaid apology. Instead, she shifted topics and asked gently, “Zhang Yan, are you going back home this New Year?”

“I...I...” Zhang Yan froze.

Since her fallout with her father in the Imperial Capital, she hadn’t returned to Jing County.

Partly she feared her family pressuring her into marriage or blind dates; partly that home was no longer a place for her.

“Come back with me,” Liu Qingning said, looking at her with sincere, clear eyes. “We can visit our high school, walk around town, and of course see Tang Song. If you don’t want to go back to Dongzhang Village, you can stay at my place, or we can get a hotel together.”

Zhang Yan bit her lip and finally nodded slightly. “Okay...”

Just then,

footsteps sounded, and Tang Song and Wen Ruan walked in, one after the other.

Wen Ruan’s cheeks were slightly flushed, her eyes and brows radiating a lazy, seductive charm.

She held a freshly opened bottle of Paris Blossom rosé champagne.

“What were you so deep in conversation about? Come on, the wine hasn’t been touched yet!”

Zhang Yan and Liu Qingning exchanged a look and wordlessly ended the topic.

The four of them settled again on the sofa area.

With a soft fizz, the pale pink liquid poured into crystal flutes, tiny bubbles merrily rising.

“Happy birthday, Tang Song!”

The clear clink echoed through the living room.

The champagne’s sweet fruit aroma mingled with the faint scent of flowers in the air.

Night flowed on, the mood pleasantly tipsy.

After a few glasses of champagne,

Zhang Yan and Liu Qingning, both lightweights, soon felt woozy.

Their cheeks reddened, their tones softened.

Unconsciously, the time moved to half past ten at night.

Liu Qingning yawned and rubbed her eyes. “It’s late. Why don’t you two stay over? The guest room is ready.”

“N-no.” Zhang Yan quickly waved her hands in refusal. “Shuangshuang—my sister—she’s staying with Wen Ruan tonight, and my cat is there too. I need to go back.”

“All right.” Liu Qingning nodded, not insisting.

Wen Ruan set down her glass at the right moment, her gaze shifting as she half-joked, “Then...could our birthday boy be responsible for sending you back?”

Liu Qingning laughed lightly and waved it off as obvious, “Of course he should! You two have had so much wine, we can’t let you go home alone in the middle of the night.”

As she spoke, she turned and nudged Tang Song, “Let him sleep at your place tonight, don’t have him running back and forth. I can get a good night’s sleep too, I haven’t rested well the past few days.”

She finished with a teasing glare at Tang Song.

Tang Song glanced at Bai Yueguang and nodded slightly, “Okay, Qing Ning, you get some rest early.”

“Got it, got it. Hurry and call a car, make sure he gets there safely.”

At those words,

Wen Ruan’s pupils flickered violently for a moment.

She had tentatively suggested earlier that she might take Tang Song downstairs under the pretext of escorting someone home.

She did not expect Liu Qingning to proactively propose letting Tang Song stay overnight?!

That would mean...tonight she could bring Tang Song to Swan Castle to see Su Yu?

Wen Ruan understood the hint in Su Yu’s words perfectly.

Should she go?

Her heart began to race.

Thinking of the superstar’s flawless beauty and perfect figure...

If it were Su Yu...

Well...maybe...it wasn’t entirely impossible.

How many times in a lifetime would you get to try a dungeon at this level?

Forget it—consider it his birthday perk!

Twenty minutes later,

a black Rolls-Royce drove into the underground garage of China Resources • Shencheng Bay Yuefu.

The elevator went straight to the 36th floor.

Tang Song looped his arm around Zhang Yan’s waist, escorting her out of the elevator.

The slightly tipsy girl leaned against him, cheeks flushed, breath warm with a faint sweet scent of champagne.

“Ding—”

As they stepped through the door to Unit 3601, the foyer’s sensor lights came on, casting a soft warm glow.

Just as Tang Song was about to change shoes, Wen Ruan suddenly reached out and pulled the dizzy Zhang Yan aside.

She deliberately turned her back to Tang Song, bent close, and whispered a few words into Zhang Yan’s ear.

Tang Song stood two meters away, able only to see Wen Ruan’s moving red lips, unable to hear what she said.

After a moment, Zhang Yan nodded dazedly.

Wen Ruan smiled in satisfaction, then kissed her hard on the flushed cheek. “Good baby, go rest well.”

Startled by the sudden affection, Zhang Yan looked at Tang Song like a frightened rabbit. “I-I’m going in...Tang Song...good night...”

Saying that, she lowered her head and ran down the hallway.

Silence returned to the foyer.

Only the two of them remained.

Tang Song leaned against the shoe cabinet and watched the older sister leisurely smooth her hair in front of the mirror. He raised an eyebrow and, half amused, asked, “What’s with the secrecy?”

Wen Ruan didn’t answer.

She finished fixing her hair, turned, and walked slowly over to Tang Song.

Her red lips parted slightly, breath like orchids. “Let’s go, Little Song. Sister will take you somewhere fun, consider it your last birthday gift.”

Seeing his elder sister’s “tonight I’ll devour you” look, Tang Song’s pulse quickened.

He didn’t know what new tricks or pleasures this daring sister had in mind.

His gaze darkened, burning hot. He took hold of her more firmly.

“All right, tonight I’ll do as sister says.”

Wen Ruan bit her lip and kissed his cheek. “Stick close.”

Then she clicked her high heels, turned, wiggled her waist and hips, and stepped out through the not-yet-closed door.

Her tall, voluptuous figure melted into the dim hallway light, swaying enticingly.

Tang Song calmed the agitation within him and hurried to follow.

The elevator descended back to B1, into the garage.

They got into a black Mercedes van Wen Ruan had prepared.

Out of courtesy, the divider between front and back seats lifted.

The car started smoothly and merged onto the late-night streets of Shen City, heading north at speed.

It was already after eleven.

The bustling city grew quieter, street lamps slipping past, painting mottled light across the interior.

Wen Ruan leaned on the wide, comfortable aviation seat, legs crossed.

Her full, impressive E-cup rose and fell slightly with each breath, like white waves in the dark that radiated a heavy, seductive aura in the flickering light.

The cabin was quiet except for the faint sound of tires on pavement.

Tang Song’s gaze drifted inevitably to the elder sister.

Light and shadow skated across her beguiling face and lingered on those voluptuous curves.

Noticing his stare, Wen Ruan did not look away. Instead she adjusted her posture slightly,

enhancing the curve of her body in the dim light.

She turned her head and met his eyes; her peach-blossom eyes seemed especially deep in the shadows.

No words were spoken.

Tang Song lifted his hand across the small gap and rested it on her thigh.

Wen Ruan didn’t pull away or speak.

She only looked at him quietly, lips slightly pursed, long lashes casting a faint shadow.

After a moment,

her breathing quickened. Her full lips parted, and she closed her legs a little.

She reached out and gently grabbed his wrist.

Her fingertips were warm and soft, nails neatly manicured, brushing his pulse through his sleeve.

The touch was teasingly close yet distant, ticklish and electrifying.

Tang Song’s heartbeat accelerated further.

The streaking lights outside blurred into the background; time inside the car seemed to slow.

The air felt like a taut string.

Every tiny touch, every exchanged glance, was amplified.

The entire back seat thrummed with imminent desire and lethal tension.

The car slowed and pulled up in front of an upscale residential complex.

“We’re here.”

Wen Ruan released his wrist, smoothed her slightly messy hair, and opened the door.

Tang Song followed.

The southern night carried a hint of cool dampness, but it couldn’t put out the heat building inside him.

Wen Ruan took her phone from her bag and tapped out an NFC access card.

With a soft beep, the ornate gate of the complex opened.

They entered.

Tang Song took in the surroundings curiously.

The garden had a European flavor, trees casting dappled shadows.

At this hour, the complex was mostly empty, antique street lamps lending a hazy glow.

“What is this place?”

Wen Ruan tilted slightly, hands behind her back, lips curved in a seductive smile. “Guess.”

Tang Song reached out and slapped her round, perky peach butt.

The sharp sound sent a delicious ripple through the air.

“Cut the suspense. Tell me.”

Wen Ruan didn’t mind. She chuckled, then continued down the quiet garden path.

After a few steps she stopped, turned, and said, “This is OCT • Swan Castle.”

Hearing the complex name, Tang Song’s eyes widened a bit.

He hadn’t been here before, but he knew that famous actresses lived here.

Thinking back to Wen Ruan’s cryptic words and flirtatious manner in the car and her earlier initiative to “give a big gift” tonight...

Tang Song’s eyes involuntarily widened.

He looked at the full-figured elder sister, then pictured the icy, ethereal superstar.

No way.

(°□°)!!

Wen Ruan watched his reaction, stifled a giggle, shoulders trembling.

She reached out and ran her hand over his firm abdomen, fingertips tracing the outlines of his abs through his clothes.

Looking up at him, water gleaming in her peach-blossom eyes, she teased, “What? Little brother, suddenly got some bold ideas?”

“Yes! Very bold!”

“How bold?”

“So bold—” Tang Song grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him, “you might not be able to handle it.”

Wen Ruan dug her fingers into him playfully. “You’ve been so busy lately—I worry about whether you can still perform. If you can’t, we’ll turn around and go comfort your Bai Yueguang instead, spare sister the disappointment. Maybe sister should play with the big star herself? Besides, you and I get along well enough.”

This vile reverse psychology instantly ignited the blaze in Tang Song’s eyes.

He leaned down and bit her plump earlobe hard, whispering viciously:

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you beg for mercy!”

Wen Ruan shrank from the pain, then bit her glossy lips and snorted, “Big talker! Fool.”

She actually knew the situation clearly.

Tang Song had been alone with Liu Qingning in the past two days; it couldn’t be that nothing happened.

When he came home that night, the perfume on him was strong enough to marinate him.

His stamina must have been drained a lot.

She couldn’t believe that, facing the combination of herself and Su Yu, this guy wouldn’t panic.

Tonight, she insisted on seeing him kneel and beg!

Maybe she’d throw him over her shoulder and grind him senseless!

Besides, Su Yu had asked to be called “sister.”

Thinking of that image, wild desire glittered in Wen Ruan’s seductive eyes.

Y(^V)P maniacal laugh~~

Tang Song inhaled deeply, eyes burning. “We’ll see who’s fooling whom!”

He then opened the system interface,

went to the inventory, selected Recovery Potion, and used it immediately.

The fatigue evaporated. His muscles refilled with explosive power, and his mind cleared.

It felt like emerging from a high-quality deep sleep into the most energetic morning.

Status: Peak (MAX)!

Tang Song clenched his fist and felt the primal power surging through him.

Forget two opponents.

He felt like he could take on ten!

...

Their footsteps echoed through the quiet complex until they stopped before an elegant building.

They entered a high-ceilinged, bright but empty lobby, and the elevator rose smoothly.

Tang Song watched the numbers tick up and felt his heartbeat quicken.

A mix of anticipation, excitement, and an indescribable thrill filled him.

He could understand why a superstar would agree to this—Su Yu spoiled him, almost to a yandere level.

But he never expected the elder sister to be willing, and even proactive.

These two women were, without a doubt, the greatest stamina bosses in his harem.

If they teamed up...

Just imagining it made his mouth dry and his blood boil.

“Ding—”

A soft chime sounded, and the elevator doors opened at the top floor.

They walked out one after the other.

Just as they reached the heavy entry door, Wen Ruan stopped,

turned, and stood in front of the keypad.

Tang Song looked at her, eyes alight. “What’s up, Ruan Ruan?”

“In a hurry?” Wen Ruan raised her chin languidly. “Before we go in, Sister has to ask you two questions. Answer correctly and you may enter.”

“Ask.”

“Between me, Director Jin, Su Yu, and Liu Qingning, who’s the prettiest?”

“You.”

“And who do you love the most?”

“Of course, you.”

Though he knew he was flattering her, Wen Ruan’s mouth still curled into a crazed grin; her vanity was well fed.

She licked her glossy lips in satisfaction and let a suggestive light pass through her eyes. “Come in...husband. I haven’t told her yet that you’d be here tonight.”

Tang Song smirked slightly, instantly understanding her prank.

It was a surprise attack.

Wen Ruan quickly typed a few digits on the keypad.

With a soft click, the lock opened.

They stepped lightly inside.

In the luxurious foyer they changed into slippers, walked down the long entry corridor, and went around a huge Su embroidery screen.

They entered a dim, silent large flat living room.

The main light was off; only a floor lamp glowed in the corner.

Tang Song’s gaze instantly fixated on a still figure by the floor-to-ceiling window.

Su Yu was curled up in a single leather lounge chair by the window.

The window wasn’t completely closed—there was a thin gap.

The cool high-rise night breeze slipped in, playing with her waterfall-like black hair.

A few strands swept across her exquisite profile, casting a blurred shadow over her high nose and slightly reddened eye corners.

Her gaze was somewhat vacant as she quietly watched the view outside.

Beyond the glass, the neon of Shen City dimmed, and the distant Ferris wheel in Happy Valley turned slowly, like a giant ring set into the night.

Light and shadow drifted across her face, flickering.

She looked like a cold, otherworldly fairy fallen into the mortal world, untouched by worldly dust.

She wore only a pristine strapless short dress.

The style was extremely simple yet극ly seductive.

Her frost-like skin gleamed under the starlight and neon, catching a lustrous sheen.

Delicate collarbones and smooth shoulder lines.

Her legs were long and straight, crossed beneath the skirt, ankles slender, toes slightly curled.

Cold.

Vulnerable.

Yet deeply alluring.

As if hearing a faint sound behind the screen, Su Yu’s lashes fluttered. She slowly turned her head.

Those striking amber eyes still held the haze and loneliness of her earlier trance.

When she focused on the man standing in the light-dark boundary, her pupils widened slightly and the bewilderment quickly ebbed away.

“Song? You’re here!”

She called softly and rose without bothering to put on shoes, barefoot on the carpet as she walked toward him with dancer-like grace and elegance. The silk skirt brushed her skin like a lily blooming in the night.

Up close, she unabashedly wrapped her arms around Tang Song’s neck.

Looking up,

those amber eyes were filled with night—and with him.

“Happy birthday.”

As the words fell, she rose onto her toes and kissed him.

It was an intensely lingering French kiss—

deep, passionate, carrying long-suppressed longing.

Tang Song’s senses had already been pushed to the edge tonight.

Facing Su Yu now, he couldn’t hold back.

His reaction was fierce, as if he wanted to crush the superstar in his arms.

Wen Ruan stood aside, cheeks flushed, breathing quick.

Watching them kiss deepen with the danger of sparks flying right there,

she cleared her throat, “Ahem...Well? Big star, I brought the person to you intact. Are you pleased?”

At her voice, Su Yu finally pulled away reluctantly.

She leaned into Tang Song’s broad chest, panting slightly.

After a moment,

she laughed softly.

Then she glided over to Wen Ruan.

She bent slightly at the knees, hands folded at her sides, and performed a perfectly refined greeting.

“Thank you, sister, for making this possible.”

Her voice was soft and sweet, the trailing tone just the right amount of coquettish.

Her gaze flickered, shy yet lethally seductive—like a reincarnated Daji.

Wen Ruan was stunned.

Goosebumps ran from her back to her scalp.

Su Yu!

This was Su Yu!

National Diva! Top idol! The goddess of millions of hearts!

Here she stood before Wen Ruan, looking at her with those eyes, calling her “sister.”

The visual contrast and the psychological conquest made Wen Ruan’s soul tremble; she nearly screamed.

Su Yu didn’t stop.

“I’ll help you put your things away, sister.”

She reached out and took the bag from Wen Ruan,

then circled behind her and thoughtfully slipped off her jacket.

The fabric slid off her rounded shoulder, revealing Wen Ruan’s shapely figure.

A white fitted undershirt hugged sensual curves.

Her E-cup rose invitingly, a slim waist sculpted to perfection.

The neckline opened slightly, revealing delicate collarbones and a deep cleavage.

Su Yu hung the items properly, then turned back with light steps. Her graceful arm wound around Wen Ruan like a vine.

She leaned her chin intimately on Wen Ruan’s shoulder; the amber eyes shimmered with moisture, the eye corners slightly lifted as she looked straight at her.

“I said tonight I’m at sister’s disposal. I am yours.”

Wen Ruan’s breathing went haywire.

For a moment she was frozen by the superstar’s firm control.

“Hey, big star, what are you doing?”

Su Yu smiled even more enchantingly.

She leaned closer, red lips against Wen Ruan’s ear.

“What? Don’t you like it, sister?”

Wen Ruan bit her plump lips and finally wrapped her arm around Su Yu’s slim waist, glancing at Tang Song. “Then it’s settled. Tonight, you’re mine. Nobody else touches a hair on your head.”

“Of course I’ll obey sister.” Su Yu obediently nestled at her shoulder, black hair cascading, docile as a cat.

But her clear amber eyes drifted over Wen Ruan’s shoulder, landing straight on her beloved Tang Song.

No words, only unspoken affection and supreme seduction.

Tang Song, taking in the entire scene, felt the fire in his eyes flare into an inferno.

A ripe, voluptuous peach—so sensual.

A cold, bewitching beauty—like an orchid under moonlight.

The clash of these extremes set him ablaze.

With a low exhale, Tang Song strode forward and swept them both into his arms.

The twin fragrances—sweet and heady—filled his nose.

He bent and kissed them fiercely.

In the dim living room, the floor lamp cast a warm glow.

Black brashness and white coolness intertwined; lush maturity and delicate elegance overlapped.

Reason was incinerated utterly.

Outside, the Ferris wheel turned slowly.

The mottled light fell on the three of them like a silent, brilliant firework.