Litchi returned to the private room.
She headed to the bathroom first and started filling the bathtub with water. Then she glanced at Xu Wanyue, who was still slumped in her chair, and spoke calmly. “Do you need me to help you up?”
“No… no need…” Xu Wanyue’s voice was still trembling a little.
“Go take a bath. I’ll have someone bring you a fresh change of clothes in a bit.”
A hint of teasing flickered in Litchi’s eyes. Xu Wanyue’s clothes were slightly damp right now. Litchi took just one glance before suppressing the amusement. She turned to look out the window and said flatly, “You heard everything we said in the room earlier?”
“Yes.”
“Casino rules are casino rules. If no one catches you cheating red-handed, that’s that—no take-backs. If you want to walk out with those eighty million, you can.”
Xu Wanyue shook her head hurriedly. “No, no thanks.”
Litchi met her eyes. “You lost that last shot in the second round. He’s always played by the rules. This was a rare moment of mercy on his part.”
“Th-thank you…”
“Go take your bath.” Litchi shook her head and sat down in the clean chair where Lin Cheng had been earlier.
Xu Wanyue slipped into the bathroom.
“Mission failed. And… I think they caught on to my intentions.” Xu Wanyue bit her lip as she typed out the message on the screen.
“Reason.”
Xu Wanyue sent a detailed rundown of everything that had happened that night. But the reply came back cold: “They’ll bring you in—they need you. This is the Alliance’s critical SS-rank mission. Humanity’s safety hangs in the balance. Stick to the plan: go undercover for one more month. Once you hit that target… we’ll personally deliver everything you want.”
Xu Wanyue stared at the words for a long moment, hesitating before silently deleting the line she’d typed: “I want to withdraw from this mission.”
She stripped off her clothes. Her underwear from before was ruined—she wanted nothing more than to burn every stitch she’d worn tonight and erase that humiliating reminder forever. The shower water came down icy cold, finally chasing away some of the unease and heat churning inside her. She lingered under the spray far longer than usual. Eventually, she heard a knock at the door. Litchi’s voice came through: she’d left some clothes just outside.
Xu Wanyue cracked the door open cautiously, snatched the bundle, and shut it again. It was a sexy black lace suspender dress—little black dress style.
Since Litchi didn’t know her exact size, she’d included some adhesive breast covers instead.
“Here.”
Lin Cheng had just stepped into the room when Litchi tossed him a balled-up pair of black stockings. His eyes went wide as he looked into her sly, mischievous gaze. “Go on, touch ’em all you want.”
They were the ones she’d just taken off—still carrying the faint warmth of her body.
“That’s cheating!” Lin Cheng whined, looking utterly aggrieved.
“Hmm? You’re the one who said you wanted to feel up some stockings. There, wish granted. But don’t go doing anything weird with them, okay?”
Litchi crossed her snow-white, slender legs beneath her hip-hugging skirt, grinning like a cat that got the cream. She had a litchi-flavored lollipop between her lips, and her bare, creamy toes dangled playfully from her high heels. God, where did she even pick up a move that seductive?
“Using them to brew tea counts as weird?” Lin Cheng gazed at her with wide-eyed innocence.
Hah, if it’s a contest for thick skin, you’re still centuries behind me.
Litchi crunched down on her lollipop, her eyes narrowing in a mix of annoyance, disdain, and exasperation. “Can you be serious for once?”
“Sigh. I was serious for way too long before. Gotta rebound sometime.” Lin Cheng shrugged innocently, pulled up a chair, and sat beside her. “Got any more lollipops?”
Litchi pulled one out like a magician, handing it over. Lin Cheng eyed it. “I want litchi flavor.”
“I already ate all the litchi ones.” She huffed lightly. “None left.”
“Then lemon flavor.” Lin Cheng handed back the grape one. “Not grape.”
“You… really don’t like Grape that much?”
“Nah, it’s not that. I just like lemon more.”
Lin Cheng suddenly leaned in close, flashing her a grin. “Of course, what I like most is Litchi.”
Litchi shoved his face away with a straight face. “You said the exact same thing to Lemon. Drop dead.”
With another sleight of hand, she produced a lemon lollipop. Lin Cheng tore off the wrapper and popped it in his mouth. Then he glanced at the nearby chair, where a faint damp spot lingered. He murmured, “Better clean that up. Give her a little dignity.”
“Why bother with a backstabbing turncoat?”
“Just different sides for now. Who knows? Someday we might win her over with the power of love. Her ability could come in handy, after all.”
Litchi let out a reluctant “oh” and called over a server, who hauled away the chair and replaced it with a brand-new one. The two of them waited in the room for a while before the bathroom door finally opened. Xu Wanyue stepped out, her hair still slightly damp.
In Lin Cheng’s mind, she was a solid nine out of ten bombshell… Nah, screw that—no being a sleazy rating creep. He gave himself a mental knock on the head.
The little black dress fit Xu Wanyue surprisingly well, hugging her lovely rounded curves. Her waist was slim, the snug skirt wrapping her hips in a tempting line. She had that alluring mature-little-sis figure, especially up top—her unbound chest swelling full and soft.
Looked bouncy as hell.
“Please, have a seat.” Lin Cheng’s expression turned uncharacteristically serious.
Xu Wanyue’s demeanor had softened considerably from her earlier contempt and arrogance. A hint of unease crept in now. She quickly composed herself, aiming for poise, and sat across from Lin Cheng and Litchi.
“You can probably guess what I want to talk about.” Lin Cheng’s tone suddenly grew much gentler.
Unlike the deep intensity in his eyes when he’d pulled the trigger earlier, this warmth put Xu Wanyue oddly at ease. Still, she shook her head. “I… have no idea.”
“Your ability is fascinating.” Lin Cheng didn’t mind playing along. “So… I’d like to invite you to join our organization.”
“I’m with the Alliance.” Xu Wanyue lifted her chin slightly.
“I know, I know. I’m not asking you to quit. I just want to collaborate. We could use someone with your talents, and in return, we can offer you some help.”
“Like what?”
“If you have a special wish you want fulfilled, we can make it happen—within reason. All we’d ask is for you to handle some… low-risk tasks for us. That’s it. I’m being straight with you, so… drop the haughty act.”
Her arrogance was just a front. As soon as Lin Cheng said it, the mask began to crack. She bit her lip. “I need time to think it over. And… I don’t know anything about your organization.”
“You’ll learn once you join.”
“I don’t even know your organization’s name.”
“Fruit Shop.” Lin Cheng smiled as he said it.
Xu Wanyue blinked, stunned. She glanced at Litchi, who didn’t seem inclined to argue—just a touch of helpless resignation in her eyes. Clearly, she was used to this.
“Fruit… Shop?”
“Yep. She’s Litchi, I’m Watermelon. We’ve got Lemon, Grape, Water Honey Peach… Names are running low, though. You could pick a codename for yourself in the group. Or not—it’s just a deep partnership, after all.”
“I need intel on your organization. I can’t agree without knowing anything…”
“Leave the negotiations to Litchi.” Lin Cheng yawned hugely, wiping a tear from his eye with the back of his hand. He stood, rested a hand on Litchi’s shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You two chat. I’m heading back to crash.”
“There’s a guest room right here.”
“Grape gets back tomorrow and she’ll kill me. Better hide out.” Lin Cheng chuckled and massaged Litchi’s shoulders a bit longer. It clearly worked wonders—her expression softened. She tossed him the car keys. “Drive yourself home.”
“I don’t know how to drive.”
“Didn’t you hit me up for cash to get your license just the other week?”
Lin Cheng scratched his head. “Those practice questions gave me a headache.”
“So what happened to the money I gave you for it?”
“Topped up a mobile game…”
“Docking a thousand from next month’s allowance.” Litchi shot him a dirty look. Lin Cheng gave her big puppy eyes, but she didn’t budge. “Didn’t you make two grand selling your body yesterday anyway?”
“…That was my personal earnings from honest labor.”
“Says the guy panting to prove it.” Litchi poked his chest a few times. “Just get the damn license already.”
“Got it, got it.” Lin Cheng nodded helplessly and released her shoulders. “I’m out.”
Litchi nodded faintly and said nothing more, watching as he left the room.
“Who is he?”
Once Lin Cheng was gone, Xu Wanyue voiced her burning question.
“External contractor. My personal boy toy.” Litchi’s toes curled up playfully as she let out a light laugh.
Xu Wanyue’s eyes filled with confusion. That was an obvious brush-off.
“He doesn’t hang around the organization much or join most of our ops, so you can pretty much pretend he doesn’t exist. We only call him in when we need him.”
Xu Wanyue hesitated, then asked softly, “I want to know… what his ability is.”
“Why?”
“I need to understand how I lost to him. At least let me lose convinced.”
“He doesn’t have any ability right now.” Litchi said it flatly.
Xu Wanyue froze. It sounded like another brush-off, but Litchi’s expression carried a note of genuine disdain—like she couldn’t be bothered to lie.
“Then how did he spot my ability?”
“He guessed.” Litchi replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Xu Wanyue stared at her intently, a spark of irritation rising. She didn’t buy it. “Then why was he completely stone-faced when he shot himself? But when he was joking around with you later, he put four rounds right to his temple?”
Xu Wanyue still remembered that man named Lin Cheng picking up the revolver from the table during his banter with Litchi—bang bang bang bang against his temple. Her heart had lurched with every trigger pull.
Litchi got where the confusion was coming from. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let out a soft sigh.
“Because… he doesn’t care.”
