After sharing the soup dumplings Dad brought home with Xiao Qianxia, I grabbed my crutch and personally walked her back next door to the Zhu family’s place.

It was my first time stepping into their house.

For a mafia heir’s residence, it was surprisingly normal—no tiger-skin armchairs, no axes hanging on the walls. The interior was simple and elegant, with a minimalist Chinese aesthetic. The furniture was tasteful, sure, but nothing screamed “underground syndicate.”

Since my foot was still in a cast, even putting shoes on or taking them off was a hassle. I stayed in the entryway and didn’t step further inside.

Zhu Beihai was in the living room practicing his golf putt. Just a patch of turf, a hole, and him tapping a ball around by himself. I had no clue what the appeal was.

“Oh my, sorry for the trouble today,” he said, not even looking up. “It’s been a long time since Qianxia smiled that brightly.”

So he did know she was at my place, and he wasn’t even worried? That’s… an impressive level of trust.

“No, I should be the one thanking her~ This pure-hearted little angel completely healed my soul.”

Qianxia was still clinging to my shirt hem like she didn’t want to let go. I patted her on the back of the head.

“Brother will come play again next time, okay?”

Then I looked up at Zhu Beihai and said, “Your daughter’s really smart.”

That wasn’t just flattery. The girl had never touched a PS4 before, and after ten minutes of figuring out the controls, she soloed Gundyr in Dark Souls 3 in under half an hour. If that’s not intelligence, she might just be the reincarnation of Mr. Quin¹.

Okay, yes, I admit—I gave her Dark Souls 3 specifically to watch her fail. But that plan backfired spectacularly.

“Why not send her to school, though?” I asked, unable to hold it in. “She seems... lonely.”

I knew I was poking into someone else’s family business—and a yakuza family’s, no less—but I couldn’t help myself.

Zhu Beihai let out a sigh. “I get what you’re saying, kid. But it’s not that simple... It’s my fault. If she had a different father, maybe she’d get to live a normal life.”

For once, he wasn’t smiling. Clearly, when it came to Qianxia, even he had his regrets.

“You don’t have to be so hard on yourself. I’ll come by and keep her company more often.”

Hearing that, Qianxia beamed up at me, flashing a row of tiny white teeth.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Zhu Beihai said. “She really likes you. I’m counting on you.”

Something about the way he said that felt hinting.

“Well, I’ll head back now~”

I turned to leave on my crutch. The two of them stood at the doorway, watching me go.

“Bye, big sis!”

My crutch slipped—I nearly ate the floor.

…

The next day—Saturday, September 6th.

I slept in until 10 AM, waking up from pure hunger. On the bright side, I saved on breakfast and burned some calories. Two birds, one stone.

Dad had to work overtime, so I was home alone. The fridge was completely empty—cleaner than my wallet. Ordering delivery felt like too much effort, so I settled for a cup of instant noodles.

Being home alone was boring as hell. While slurping my noodles, I called Haitang. Her place was closest to Zhao Zhao’s, so maybe she’d be free to hang out.

“Sorry, Commander, I’m at the student council office,” she said. “You know, new semester and all—gotta do the handover with the old council. We’ve got a bunch of stuff from the middle school division to sort through. Super busy. Go bug Zhao Zhao instead.”

“But I’m hearing what sounds exactly like retro game music in the background?”

There it was—loud, chiptune-style 8-bit music, as tinny and repetitive as an old arcade game.

“Oh, that? The arcade machine technically belongs to the council.”

Honestly, I kind of wished she was actually lying to me at the arcade. If the student council’s office actually had an arcade machine, that’s some serious corruption. What kind of school was this?

“What about Tangerine?”

“She went out with some friends. Don’t go interrupting her while she’s making new ones, okay?”

“Hey, give me some credit. I wouldn’t sabotage her social life.”

That little cat girl who used to cling to me crying "onii-chan" had fully leveled up into a proper middle schooler now.
“Oh, the former council president just walked in. Gotta go!”

She hung up, and I tried Zhao Zhao next. As soon as the line connected, I heard heavy breathing. Very heavy. Very male.

“Haa... haa... haah... Commander?”

God, that low, raspy panting—it was deeply unpleasant.

“Did I catch you at a bad time? Interrupt some… solo electrical engineering?”

“What the hell are you talking about!? I’m playing basketball!”

To prove it, I heard the familiar thud-thud of a ball hitting the pavement in the background.

I pinched my throat and squeaked into the phone, “Zhao-sama~ come hang out with me?”

“I can’t! I’m subbing in for someone’s team today. I’ll swing by this afternoon?”

“Forget it then. Leave me to wallow in solitude.”

I couldn’t believe it. Even Zhao Zhao had ditched me to hang out with someone else.

I glanced next door at the Zhu family’s place, but didn’t dare knock. A sleek black car was parked out front—probably a shady deal going down inside.

As cute as Qianxia was, her dad still scared the crap out of me. And she didn’t have a phone, so I couldn’t exactly lure her out.

I finished the rest of my noodles. Not hungry anymore, but my mouth felt totally unsatisfied.

I thought about calling Rinka, but then remembered our last meal together and decided against it. She was still suspicious of me—constantly trying to pry secrets out of my mouth like I was a suspect and she was the police. Being around her was exhausting.

I went back to my room and lay on the bed, tracing my name on the bookmark.

I’d gotten used to using it by now—splitting my form had become second nature. If there was one thing I hadn’t gotten used to, though, it was the shame of being completely naked every time.

But I shouldn’t get used to it. That’d make me no different from that pervy “artist” exhibitionist.

Wrapped in the blanket like I was wearing a tight qipao, I could barely move my legs. I slipped into Dad’s room and borrowed one of his white dress shirts. For all his lazy tank-top-and-boxer ways, the man was surprisingly tall and built well enough for suits.

The shirt hung loose all over me, and I could only button three buttons from the bottom up—so the top looked like a plunging V-neck.

Underneath, I wore a pair of men’s boxer shorts, which were almost completely hidden by the long shirt. Even though my body had shrunk a bit, my butt had perked up, so I didn’t have to worry about them falling off… though the waistband kept rubbing in annoying places.

“This might be worse than wearing nothing…”

Once I was dressed, I grabbed a mop and broom.

I’ve always been a bit of a neat freak. And Dad—well, judging from his usual sloppy loungewear—clearly was not. He hadn’t done any real cleaning since I broke my leg.

Cleaning a two-story house by yourself takes time. But humans thrive on positive feedback. Seeing the place slowly become spotless gave me a sense of accomplishment. I felt more and more energized, my mood lifted, and before long I was humming.

“Spending a weekend alone… not so bad~”

I chuckled to myself like some retired old lady.

But of course, my protagonist aura wasn’t about to let me enjoy peace and quiet for long.

After wiping down the furniture and sweeping the floors, I was just walking out of the first-floor bathroom with a wrung-out mop—when I saw it.

A shadow—brief but distinct—passed right outside the closed curtains in the living room.

“Who’s there—?!”

My voice cracked from tension, jumping up an octave.

That was definitely a person. I wasn’t imagining things, and it wasn’t some stray cat or dog. The midday sun was shining bright, so the silhouette on the curtain was crystal clear.

Gripping the mop handle like it was a Guandao², I crept toward the curtain.

It was real wood, a bit heavy to use as a cleaning tool—but perfect for self-defense. Carefully, I peeked out from behind the curtain, pushing it open just a crack with my makeshift weapon.

No one.

Outside was just the garden wall covered in jasmine vines. The leaves were a rich green under the sun, dotted with a few curling white flowers. Back in early summer, the blooms were dense and beautiful, but the season had passed—they were mostly gone now.

Gathering my courage, I opened the window and stuck my head out to check both directions.

No one.

But the grass below showed signs of being trampled, and the drainage grate had faint footprints leading toward the front gate.

Was someone casing the place?!

Panicking, I slammed the window shut and locked it tight, then bolted upstairs, checked every room, and finally crept to the front door. I peeked through the peephole.

Nothing.

But there’s always a blind spot under the door—what if someone was hiding right there?

I flung the door open and jabbed my mop forward like a spear.

“Take this, you filthy thief!”

“Ow!”