Wei's cryptic final words—"Because I feel so"—echoed in Akira's mind, leaving a trail of confusion. However, Akira was a master of compartmentalization. She pushed the lingering questions into a corner of her mind, knowing that to find the truth, she first had to finish the task at hand.
She turned her gaze back to the glowing screen of her laptop. The manuscript, once just a job, now felt like a heavy responsibility. If An Mei had truly been murdered, then these chapters were more than just fiction—they were the whispers of a ghost.
With a deep, steadying breath, Akira began editing the chapters she had just read. She looked at the interactions between Professor Ruoxi and Fen with new eyes. Was Ruoxi based on a real person An Mei knew? Was the "Luxury Fragrance" a specific clue? Every comma, every adjective, and every emotional beat was now a potential lead. She worked with a surgical precision, her focus sharper than ever, as she tried to bridge the gap between the story on the page and the tragedy in Taipei.On the other side of the mansion, Aunt Zhi finished preparing lunch. She gathered her things, reminding Zheng to return home on time before heading out. Zheng nodded obediently, her earlier restlessness settling into a quiet resolve as she turned back to her books.
Now that Naria was peacefully asleep—thanks to her warm bath and soothing massage—Naea finally had the space to breathe. With her daughter tucked away in a deep slumber, the distractions faded, allowing Naea to dive deeper into the lesson.
She began explaining the remaining subjects, using vivid, real-life examples to break down the most difficult concepts. Without the constant need to soothe a crying infant, Naea's teaching became even more fluid and engaging. Zheng watched her intently, the clear explanations helping her grasp topics that had seemed impossible just an hour ago. For a moment, the tension of the morning was forgotten, replaced by the rhythmic scratch of pens and the serene silence of the sun-drenched study.Akira finally took a break from the screen, rubbing her temples as she leaned back in her chair. Her mind was a whirlwind of editorial critiques and investigative theories.
"Well, An Mei..." she murmured to herself, her voice barely a whisper against the hum of the café. "There are so many technical mistakes in these chapters... and yet, the emotions are so pure. It's like reading a heart laid bare on the page."
The realization that such a vibrant, emotional voice had been extinguished so violently made the air in the café feel suddenly heavy. Feeling the stiffness in her muscles from hours of intense focus, Akira stood up. She began to walk around the quiet corners of the editor's lounge, stretching her arms and neck.
As her body loosened up, her mind remained locked on the manuscript. She knew that An Mei's "mistakes" weren't just errors—they were the marks of a young girl writing in a rush, perhaps writing for her life. Every stretch of her limbs seemed to clear a bit of the mental fog, allowing her "Hunter" instincts to sharpen once more. She wasn't just editing a novel anymore; she was tracing the final footsteps of a girl the world had forgotten.Driven by an irrepressible curiosity for what lay ahead, Akira returned to her seat and dove back into the manuscript. The chapters that followed shed light on Professor Ruoxi's private life, revealing that she returned to her family home only once a week—and solely for the purpose of seeing her brother.
Within that household, Ruoxi's deepest attachment and purest love were reserved for her brother, Chen. She was devoted to him, fulfilling his every need—even his most unusual or eccentric requests—without hesitation. As the only son of the family, Chen occupied a specific position, but Ruoxi's bond with her parents was cold and lacked the warmth she shared with her sibling.
To the rest of the world, Chen was dismissed as "dumb" or slow-witted, but in Ruoxi's eyes, he was simply her younger brother. She protected him fiercely, acting as his sanctuary in a home where she otherwise felt like a stranger.As Akira continued to scan the pages, she noted that Chen was 21 years old. In the subsequent chapters, a specific conversation during a tutoring session stood out, painting a clearer picture of Ruoxi's meteoric rise.
Fen looked at Ruoxi, her eyes wide with admiration. At 22, she was only two years younger than the woman sitting across from her. "You know, Professor, you're so close to my age... and yet you're already a young, beautiful professor at our college. I can see why half the boys here have a massive crush on you."
Ruoxi offered a calm, professional smile. "Fen, I believe we should pursue the path where we feel most satisfied and capable. In my case, it was both. That's why I chose to immerse myself so deeply in Computer Science."
She leaned back, a momentary shadow of a memory crossing her face. "In the beginning, even I struggled. High-level Python coding didn't come naturally to me at first. But I had a teacher who helped me see the logic behind the syntax, and eventually, everything started to click."
"And that's why you're so perfect at it now," Fen added, clearly impressed by the small age gap between them.
"Perhaps," Ruoxi replied modestly. "But remember, I started this journey of intense hard work when I was nineteen. It has taken until now, at twenty-four, to finally stand where I am today."
By the time Akira finally leaned back from her laptop, she had successfully edited twenty chapters of the manuscript. Her mind was a map of An Mei's life, filled with hidden codes, complex sibling dynamics, and the heavy weight of a story left behind. Knowing she had reached a productive stopping point, she packed her belongings and prepared to head home, her "Editor" persona slowly shifting back into that of a protective partner.
Meanwhile, back at the mansion, the afternoon study session was coming to a close. Naea decided to let Zheng off early. She had been a dedicated student, but now, Naea's focus needed to return entirely to Little Naria. The infant was waking up, and it was time for her feeding.
Zheng gathered her books, her heart still a bit heavy but her mind full of the knowledge Naea had shared. As the house transitioned from the quiet hum of study to the gentle sounds of a mother tending to her child, the atmosphere shifted into a soft, domestic peace—unaware of the dark storm of secrets Akira was bringing home with her in that manuscript.Just before leaving, Zheng paused at the doorway. She looked back at Naea, her expression unreadable. "Miss Naea... may I ask you something?"
Naea looked up from her task, offering a warm, encouraging hum. "Of course, Zheng. What is it?"
"If my grades turn out to be excellent... if I truly succeed," Zheng began, her voice steady but her eyes searching, "what will you give me as a reward?"
Naea let out a soft, melodic laugh, her smile brightening the room. "Well, that depends on you. Tell me, what is it that you want?"
Zheng lingered for a moment, a small, mysterious shadow of a smile playing on her lips. "I'll tell you that later—when the results are finally in."
With a quick wave and a quiet "Goodbye," Zheng hurried out of the mansion. Naea watched her go for a second, but she didn't dwell on the girl's mysterious request for long. Her priority was right in front of her. Turning back to the kitchen counter, she began to carefully prepare Naria's milk, her focus shifting entirely to the gentle task of feeding her daughter.While driving back home, a thought suddenly crossed Akira's mind—she needed to buy a cradle for Naria. She reasoned that if the baby had a comfortable place of her own to sleep, then she could finally hold Naea close and sleep peacefully without any interruptions.
With this practical and romantic goal in mind, she stopped at a high-end baby boutique. After carefully selecting a cradle, she booked it and arranged for home delivery. Before leaving, she made one more stop to pick up a box of Bacelena cookies, Naea's absolute favorite.
With the gifts secured and the cradle on its way, Akira headed straight for home. She was looking forward to seeing the smile on Naea's face.
Back at the mansion, Naea noticed it was getting close to dinner time. After feeding Little Naria and putting her down for a nap, she began preparing a meal. She wanted to make something special, something she knew Akira would truly enjoy. However, as she was expertly chopping vegetables, her focus slipped for a split second. The blade caught her finger, and a sharp sting was immediately followed by the bright crimson of bleeding.
At that exact moment, Akira arrived home. She parked her car and stepped inside, calling out, "Tadaima!"—the traditional Japanese greeting to announce her return. She set her bag aside and, seeing Naea in the kitchen, walked straight toward her.
"Welcome back," Naea said with a warm smile, trying to hide her hand.
Akira stepped into the kitchen, curious about what was cooking, but her sharp eyes immediately locked onto Naea's injured finger. Without a word, she gently but firmly took Naea's hand. "How did this happen?" she asked, her voice laced with immediate concern.
"I was just cutting vegetables... it's nothing," Naea replied softly.
Ignoring the protest, Akira lifted the bleeding finger and, in a sudden, protective move, began to suck the wound to stop the blood flow and provide some relief. Naea gasped softly. Even though they were partners, the intimacy of the gesture sent an unfamiliar thrill through her.
Akira didn't look away. As she tended to the cut, she looked up, her piercing charcoal eyes locking onto Naea's. There was an intensity in that gaze that felt heavier than usual, easily overwhelming Naea's emotions and leaving her breathless in the middle of the quiet kitchen.Overwhelmed by Akira's intense charcoal gaze and the searing intimacy of the moment, Naea felt her composure begin to crumble. In one swift, breathless motion, she pulled her finger away from Akira's lips. The closeness was intoxicating, and the weight of Akira's stare was more than she could bear in silence.
Driven by a sudden, irresistible impulse, Naea reached out. With her injured hand and her other trembling slightly, she grabbed Akira's face, pulling her in. Before Akira could react, Naea pressed her lips against hers, initiating a deep, urgent kiss.
Akira was momentarily caught off guard by the sudden boldness. However, as soon as their lips met, her eyes drifted shut, and she allowed herself to simply feel the raw emotion behind Naea's move. At first, Akira didn't kiss back; she stayed still, letting Naea take the lead.
Naea pushed the kiss to a passionate new level. Every second of their separation from morning until evening was poured into that contact. It was a kiss fueled by possessiveness, a silent "thank you" for Akira's care, and a release of the day's longing. Naea's hands slid from Akira's cheeks to the back of her neck, pulling her into a tight, desperate embrace.
The atmosphere in the kitchen turned electric, the heat from the stove forgotten in the face of their shared fire. As Naea tasted Akira's presence after so many hours apart, her movements became more rhythmic and demanding. Akira, who had always secretly loved Naea's rare bold streaks, finally reached her limit of restraint. With a soft sigh into the kiss, she began to kiss back with equal fervor, matching Naea's passion beat for beat.As soon as Naea felt Akira kissing back with equal passion, she suddenly pulled away, her face flushing. She placed a hand on Akira's chest, gently pushing her back. "Go... go change your clothes," she murmured, quickly turning back to the stove to hide her expression, trying to resume her cooking as if nothing had happened.
But Akira wasn't about to let her continue working with an injured hand. Without a word, Akira swept Naea off her feet, carrying her out of the kitchen and setting her down gently on the sofa. "Stay here and rest," Akira commanded softly but firmly. "I'll handle the rest of the cooking."
Before Naea could protest, the doorbell echoed through the mansion. Knowing exactly who it was, Akira went to the door to find the delivery of the cradle. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship—fully wooden-furnished, elegant, and sturdy. Akira brought it inside, and Naea looked at it with a confused expression.
"Why did you order this?" Naea asked.
"So that Naria can sleep peacefully," Akira replied, a faint, knowing glint in her eyes. "And so her parents can do the same."
Naea fell silent, the meaning behind Akira's words warming her heart. Akira placed the cradle in the drawing area and went into the bedroom, carefully bringing out a sleeping Naria and tucking her into the soft, plush bedding of the new cradle.
"This way, we can keep an eye on her while we're out here," Akira explained. She then fetched the first-aid kit, expertly bandaging Naea's finger. With a final pat on Naea's hand, Akira stood up. "Now, both of you ladies stay right here. I'm finishing dinner."
Rolling up her sleeves with practiced ease, Akira headed back into the kitchen to take over the night's preparations.