"Just didn't want my little sister getting hurt."
Chen Mo strolled up with an easy grin, slid his arm through Ch'en Hui-jie's, and then asked with naked curiosity, "So how'd you figure out I was lying? I thought my acting was pretty solid."
"…You literally just called me your sister," Ch'en said, deadpan. "What kind of sister doesn't know her brother's tells?"
The moment she felt his warmth, the anger that had been boiling in her chest finally leaked away. Her shoulders loosened; the tension bled out of her frame.
With Chen Mo here, there was no way she could keep fighting Texas. If she wanted another chance, it would have to be later.
She glanced down. His thick dragon tail had curled in close, almost coaxing, quietly winding around hers as if to soothe her. Ch'en exhaled, long and tired, letting herself sink into the rare, comfortable silence that only family could give.
"And you, Brother," she asked, "you were following me from the start?"
"Of course." Chen Mo nodded without hesitation. "That face you made when you left—like you were about to go drag someone's mom away—was way too obvious. I knew you'd seen through me and were coming to find trouble with Texas."
As he spoke, he shot Texas a look—an unmistakable go on, get out of here.
But the gray wolf, expressionless as ever, didn't budge. Like a post. She saw it. She understood it. She simply refused to move.
Stubborn woman. Like she needed Ch'en to beat her up before she'd feel balanced again.
Chen Mo was mentally cursing her when his nose twitched.
"Wait… what's that smell…?"
He followed the faint, familiar-but-not-familiar scent, turning his head until his gaze landed on Texas.
Texas's shoulders had gone rigid. She looked away, visibly awkward, as if she wished the concrete would swallow her whole.
Chen Mo understood immediately—he'd been wrapped in that scent all night.
He blinked, then gave Texas an exaggerated wink.
"Texas, take better care of yourself," he said lightly. "At this rate you're going to end up a 'three-minute' woman for real."
"Brother, what are you even saying?" Ch'en frowned, genuinely irritated. "I don't understand a word of that."
She stepped in, voice turning sharp again. "Since you've already stopped me, we're leaving. Now."
"Or what—are you planning to keep talking to this bold, lawless Lupo?"
Chen Mo actually considered it for a second. There were at least three jokes he could make that would absolutely ruin Texas's soul.
But then he looked at Ch'en's eyes—those dangerous, narrowing eyes—and decided he preferred living.
"…All right." He raised his hands in surrender. "Let's go get lunch. Texas can stay here and reflect."
As he passed Texas, he quietly flicked his foot and tapped her shin—just once, a small, pointed reminder.
Then he pulled Ch'en along, walking quickly until the two of them disappeared from Texas's line of sight.
The cold wind swept back in.
Texas stared at the battered ground—the cracks, the gouges, the ruined concrete—and slowly slid her sword away.
"…So, that's over?" she murmured, not entirely certain.
Chen Mo's teasing words had left her mind in knots. She couldn't spare any attention for anything else.
"Just go back," she told herself.
Her hand drifted to her pocket by instinct. She touched the scale.
It hadn't fallen out during the clash.
She felt an absurd surge of relief—and then froze.
…Why am I relieved?
Texas's lips tightened.
But she forced the thought down. The Emperor had said it himself: genuine Draco scales were rare, precious, and worth serious money. Penguin Logistics was barely scraping by. Keeping it safe was simply the rational choice.
That was all.
And if there was any other reason—
Texas shut her eyes for half a second.
Maybe it was just… a little bit of goodwill. A little bit of favor. After all, she'd spent the entire night fantasizing about him like an idiot—
She shook her head hard, flinging the thought away, and turned toward the dorm.
Right now, she needed a shower.
She never wanted to experience that kind of embarrassment again.
12:36 p.m.
Shangshu Hotpot (Lungmen)
"Brother," Ch'en asked at last, unable to hold it in any longer, "why are you acting like you don't care at all after that Lupo took advantage of you?"
Steam rose from the bubbling pot, blurring the air between them into a soft haze.
Ch'en's expression was tight. Her voice was even tighter.
"Don't tell me you're the kind of man who doesn't value his own body—shameless and without a shred of self-respect."
"Cough—cough!"
Chen Mo nearly choked. He slapped his chest, swallowed in a panic, then stared at her like she'd insulted his ancestors.
"If I were that kind of man," he shot back, "the first person I'd seduce would be you. Texas wouldn't even get a chance."
"Chen Mo!"
Ch'en's bark rang through the shop.
Chen Mo instantly shrank in his seat, posture folding in on itself with practiced survival instinct. He stopped running his mouth and, this time, explained properly.
"That night, Texas got drugged," he said. "She went into heat. I got careless. I underestimated it—and I didn't dodge in time. She found my weak spot, and before I knew it… she got what she wanted."
He pointed his chopsticks at himself like a witness delivering sworn testimony.
"So no, I'm not some shameless creep like you're imagining."
As he spoke, he scooted his stool closer to Ch'en and leaned in, shamelessly seeking comfort. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he placed his tail into her hands.
"Here," he said, offering it like evidence. "Tail tip. I only realized yesterday that I have a weakness this… ridiculous."
His dark, heavy tail shifted in her grip.
"With you and Talulah touching it, I don't feel anything," he explained. "But if I'm relaxed and someone outside touches it, there's this moment—this split second—where I just go weak and numb."
He nodded as if he'd solved a scientific mystery.
"I think my body treats you and Talulah as 'safe' because you're family. So the weakness doesn't trigger. But other people… who knows."
He paused, then added with emphasis:
"So far, only Texas has managed it."
"…That's actually a thing?"
Ch'en stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
She'd never experienced anything like it, but maybe it was because no one dared get close to her—or maybe Yan dragons were simply different.
She watched his tail sway, caught it, and dragged the tip closer to her face with sudden seriousness.
"…Doesn't look special."
Then she pinched the tail tip firmly.
"Well? Anything, Brother?"
"Hmm?" Chen Mo blinked. "Nope. Just normal. Feels like… a tail."
Ch'en watched closely. His expression didn't change. His tail's movement stayed steady—no sudden twitching, no betraying tremor.
No lie.
It really didn't work on her.
Ch'en fell silent, mind turning.
A strange mix of emotions surfaced—somehow both relieved and… faintly dissatisfied, for reasons she refused to examine.
She shook it off.
Swire can test it.
Unpleasant, but manageable. Compared to what Texas had done, this was nothing.
Ch'en took out her phone, sent a message, then turned back to Chen Mo—who was already happily eating again as if the universe had reset.
"Brother. Tomorrow you're going on a date with Swire," she said decisively. "And while you're at it, let her test this too."
"I really don't think that's necessary."
Chen Mo's chopsticks paused midair. He looked up into Ch'en's unblinking stare, felt the pressure, and immediately changed his tune.
"…But for my dearest little sister, I'll… bravely accept."
Swire…
She'd probably behave better than those two at Penguin Logistics, right?
He really, truly did not want to go through anything like that again.
It wasn't pleasant. It wasn't fun. It was just uncomfortable.
Maybe Texas had simply been too rough.
Whatever the reason—he never wanted a second round.
....
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