Chapter 905: Cool~

Heimu gave her a glance.

Kesi Mo's stance remained the immobile security-standard pose, hands clasped behind, shoulder pads raised, the energy core at the chest steadily flashing warm orange light, appearing calm and professional.

"Something's come up."

Heimu said while shaking her head, a few strands of gray‑white hair slipping from the helmet edge; she lifted her hand to tuck them behind her ears, then pulled the helmet visor back down, "I need to check the situation."

Kesi Mo's helmet tilted slightly, perhaps pondering what "take another look" meant.

But she didn't ask what exactly happened, merely confirming again, "Need any help?"

Heimu twisted the throttle, the engine roared in response, the exhaust spitting a small halo of pale blue Flame.

She turned her head, glancing at Kesi Mo through the helmet.

"You stay put. If Hua shows up after class, keep an eye on her movements for me."

She paused, then added, "Also Ge Lei Xiu, she's still drawing in the classroom."

"Understood."

Then Heimu abruptly released the throttle.

The motorcycle's rear wheel spun in the asphalt for a moment, tire and ground grinding with a sharp screech, then the whole bike shot forward like a drawn‑back arrow.

The red taillight cast a long after‑image between the ginkgo trees at the school gate, the engine's roar receding from near to far along the campus main road, finally fading with the breeze into the afternoon sunlight.

Kesi Mo stood still, watching that violet‑black after‑image vanish at the corner at the end of the school path.

Her cloak fluttered gently behind her, warm orange geometric patterns blinking rhythmically on the visor.

She couldn't help but think of something inside.

"Cool~"

Perspective shift.

The train glided at constant speed on the tracks, the city skyline outside the window drifting slowly backward, afternoon sun leaking through cloud gaps, casting moving patches of light on the carriage floor.

Bachongying's fingers unconsciously traced a circle along the rim of the teacup, the jasmine petals inside swirling in the pale‑gold tea as the train gently rocked.

Her expression remained gentle, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned, looking like an ordinary passenger enjoying a leisurely afternoon ride.

Her gray‑purple eyes occasionally glanced out the window, the Ferris wheel turning slowly in the distance, glass‑clad skyscrapers reflecting the harsh sunlight; everything seemed normal.

But her Fox Ears stood straight up, precisely aimed toward the direction of the sisters opposite.

The word just now was still stuck in her mind, not fully digested.

She lifted the cup and took a sip, letting the jasmine scent linger half a second longer on her tongue, and used the rim to shield any potentially revealing micro‑expression on the lower half of her face.

Calm.

This is just a trial scene.

The fact that Bachongying has a partner, from a level‑design perspective, is a normal way to enrich NPC background.

It has nothing to do with her, Bachongying herself.

A woman who looks exactly like her falling in love with someone else is completely, utterly, absolutely outside her sphere of concern.

She set the cup back on the tabletop, the bottom striking the wood grain with a crisp clack.

Then she lifted her lashes again, her gray‑purple eyes lingering on Bachongying's face for about two seconds.

The other side was tilting her head, helping Ling adjust the drawstring on her hoodie hood; her fingertips slipped through the white cord lightly and skillfully, the profile of her side face softened in the sunlight as if about to melt.

That face was identical to her own.

Yet in her whole life she had never seen that expression on her own face, the shy warmth that rises involuntarily when mentioning someone, soft as honey warmed by sunlight.

Bachongying's mouth twitched at the corner.

Seeing her own face show that expression, how to describe the feeling? It's like waking up one morning, looking in the mirror, and the reflection suddenly says, "What a nice day," then covers its mouth with a sleeve and laughs.

Strange.

Too strange.

She suppressed the subtle discomfort inside, jotted a quick mental draft, then spoke.

"Miss Bachongying looks very young."

She drew her gaze back from the window onto Bachongying's face, the smile at the corner of her mouth deepening slightly, precisely calibrated to a "casual friendly" level, "I didn't expect someone so young to already have a partner. I just heard Ling mention it, quite surprising."

Bachongying's fingers, which were helping Ling adjust the drawstring, paused.

Then her fingertips continued to tie the drawstring into a knot.

The other's ear base flushed with a pink hue.

From the earlobe outward, it became translucent in the sunlight, like a thin layer of cherry‑blossom jelly.

She pursed her lips slightly, the motion carrying a shy embarrassment as if a hidden secret had been pricked and she didn't know how to react.

"Ah..."

Bachongying's voice was at least two octaves higher than before, tinged with a bit of panic.

She tied Ling's drawstring, then loosened it, loosened it again and retied it, her fingers repeatedly performing futile motions on her sister's hat, never lifting her eyes.

"I... we haven't officially..."

Her lips opened and closed several times, each time swallowing what she wanted to say, finally managing only a "... mm."

Ling peeked over from the side, glanced at her older sister's face, red as boiled shrimp, then squinted at Bachongying.

Her mouth corner stretched to her ear, those light‑blue round eyes brimming with theatrical enthusiasm, she perched slightly upright from the seat, left hand covering her mouth as if whispering, yet her voice didn't soften at all, "Hiying older sister, look, look, my sister's face is red! Every time we mention brother‑in‑law she reacts like this, so funny! Last time brother‑in‑law came to our house for dinner, my sister's hands trembled the whole time she cooked, she couldn't tell sugar from salt, and the dish ended up so salty I drank three glasses of water—"

"Ling!"

Bachongying jerked her head up sharply, the redness at the ear base spreading to her neck, a rare flicker of panic flashing in her ice‑blue eyes.

She reached out to cover her sister's mouth, but Ling had already anticipated the move, leaning back agilely to dodge, curling into the seat corner, hugging her knees and laughing so hard she trembled all over.

"Why are you drying so fast! I haven't finished! And that time on the shopping street brother‑in‑law picked a hairpin for you, a pink one, you said you didn't like it but wore it out the next day, kept it on for a whole week!"

"Ling, if you speak again I'll send Kalian the photo of you sneaking chocolate and getting a cavity last time."

Bachongying's voice was still gentle, but there was an extra layer of threat in the tone.

"You, speak!"