Bai Li caught her wrist and kissed the inside of it with infuriating gentleness. "It is for me."

Yan Cijin drew in one quiet breath. She had spent years learning that Bai Li was not only a flirt. She was also, in her own peculiar way, a caretaker. She teased because she wanted Yan Cijin to blush. She kissed because she liked the way Yan Cijin’s body softened under her. She pushed because she trusted Yan Cijin to push back. And when it mattered, Bai Li stayed serious in a way that made the heart ache.

Yan Cijin let the silence sit a little longer, then asked, "Does it involve Lili?"

Bai Li smiled. "Yes."

"Does it involve flowers?"

"Yes."

"Does it involve your habit of causing trouble?"

Bai Li gave her a deeply offended look. "That is just character assassination."

Yan Cijin smiled faintly. "So it does involve trouble."

"Maybe a little."

"I knew it."

Bai Li bent and kissed the corner of her mouth. Yan Cijin’s expression changed at once, the seriousness easing into shy heat, the way it always did when Bai Li touched her too suddenly and too gently all at once. "You are impossible," she muttered.

Bai Li kissed her again, nearer the lips this time. "And yet."

"And yet what?"

"And yet you married me."

Yan Cijin’s face reddened. "You are enjoying this far too much."

"Obviously."

Lili ran out then, stopping hard when she saw them. "You kissed Mommy again."

Yan Cijin lowered her hand to cover part of her face. "Why do you always appear at the worst times?"

"Because I live here," Lili said, echoing her own earlier words with total confidence.

Bai Li laughed out loud, the sound bright and warm. Then she crouched to Lili’s height and tapped her nose. "Did you keep the secret?"

Lili looked serious. "Mostly."

"That does not sound good."

"I tried."

Bai Li sighed with enormous dramatic pain. "My child is honest in the most inconvenient way."

Lili nodded proudly. "Yes."

Yan Cijin finally gave in and smiled. "I can see where you get it from."

Bai Li pressed a hand to her chest. "That is very unfair."

"No, that is very accurate."

The surprise remained hidden after that, though Yan Cijin kept trying to sniff out the truth like a cat tracing warm food. Bai Li and Lili worked around her with wild secrecy. Messages were sent late at night. Packages arrived and were whisked into closets. Lili spent long afternoons drawing little stars and flowers and what she proudly called secret signs. Bai Li stayed up after Yan Cijin fell asleep, probably coordinating half the city and a few satellites if needed.

The bigger problem, however, was not the surprise.

It was Yan Cijin’s work.

She had always been the more controlled one in the family, the one with a quiet voice and a mind that moved like precision glass. At the botanical institute, she was known for her ability to combine science and patience in ways other people did not always have. She worked on climate adaptive gardens for the floating cities, focusing on plants that could survive salt wind, temperature shifts, and the tricky engineered rain systems that kept upper level terraces alive. One of her main projects, a climbing vine intended for the public island exhibition, had failed in the trial stage.

Yan Cijin did not talk about it much.

That was usually a sign that it had hurt deeply.

Bai Li noticed everything.

She noticed the way Yan Cijin stared at the reports too long. The way she forgot to drink her tea. The way her shoulders held tension even while she slept. Bai Li had the kind of instinct that made her dangerous in a loving way. She could pretend to be foolish all day, but when something mattered, she became frighteningly attentive.

One night, after Lili had gone to sleep and the apartment had settled into silence, Bai Li found Yan Cijin sitting on the balcony floor with a report spread across her lap. Her legs were bent to one side, the wind moving lightly over her dark hair. The garden wall beside her glowed softly with the little embedded lights Yan Cijin liked to leave on at night so the plants would not feel lonely, which Bai Li always said was exactly the kind of thing Yan Cijin believed.

Bai Li stepped out quietly and sat beside her. "Still awake."

Yan Cijin did not look up. "So are you."

Bai Li rested one elbow on the balcony rail. "You have been staring at that screen like it insulted you personally."

Yan Cijin turned the report over once. "It may as well have."

Bai Li looked at her carefully. "Tell me."

"It is a failed vine trial."

Bai Li nodded. "The one for the exhibition."

"Yes."

"The one you spent four months on."

Yan Cijin pressed her lips together. "Yes."

Bai Li went quiet for a moment. Then she leaned over and rested her head lightly against Yan Cijin’s shoulder. It was an oddly childish move for someone who looked so striking doing it, but Bai Li never cared much about looking dignified when she wanted comfort. "I am sorry."

Yan Cijin’s voice came out flat, but not cold. "You are not involved in the failure."

"No, but I am involved in your mood."

That got a tiny reaction. Yan Cijin’s mouth moved like she was trying not to smile. "What a strange sentence."

"It is true."

"You make everything sound dramatic."

"Because I have an emotional wife."

Yan Cijin finally turned to look at her. "I am not emotional."

Bai Li’s eyes slid toward her with open disbelief. "You are currently sad, tired, and trying not to be sad while being sad. That is emotion."

Yan Cijin gave her a long look. "You are making fun of me."

"No. I am loving you."

The sentence landed clean and direct between them.

Yan Cijin looked away first, not because she wanted to, but because the softness of Bai Li’s tone often made her feel too seen. "I know it failed."

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TO BE CONTINUED.