Lao Si: You're quite polite

Second Sister pointed at the laptop, "Put it away now."

"You've got it wrong."

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"Seeing isn’t always believing. Actually..."

Cao Cheng sighed, "Second Sister, you’re really mistaken. This was sent to me by Wang Haodong."

Second Sister flew into a rage, standing up indignantly. "Distributing obscene materials is a crime punishable by up to two years in prison. I’m going to arrest him right now."

"??"

No way.

Cao Cheng was stunned.

Was it really that serious?

At the same time, he could tell Second Sister was being protective.

If it were Cao Cheng watching, it’d be no big deal—just three slaps at most, with a chance to repent.

But for Wang Haodong? Straight to jail?

Problem was, shouldn’t she at least consider who’s behind him?

A-Wang had been behaving well lately.

"Hold on," Cao Cheng said, touched by her concern. He chuckled, pulling her hand to sit her down beside him.

"You’ve misunderstood. He sent it to me, but it’s not what you think."

"I saw it clearly."

"Take another look."

"No!" Second Sister turned her head away.

Cao Cheng reopened the laptop, and the video resumed where it had paused.

"Just one glance."

"No." Second Sister was putting on an act.

Didn’t Cao Cheng know her well?

Years ago, he’d gifted her a trunk of limited-edition dresses, and she hadn’t thrown out a single one.

What did that say?

It said she was secretly a bit of a pervert.

The Fourth always called Third Sister the repressed one, but Second Sister might be the real queen of repression.

"I’m not asking you to look at the body. Just check the face. Recognize the guy?"

"Huh?!"

"See who it is now?" Cao Cheng smirked.

Second Sister frowned. "Why him? What’s Wang Haodong sending you this for?"

Cao Cheng grinned. "Wang Haodong’s the self-appointed 'disciplinary inspector' of the entertainment circle now—title courtesy of his fans. And he’s got quite the following, second only to me. I’m the 'National Husband,' he’s the 'National Homewrecker.'"

"..." Second Sister was speechless. Was that even a compliment?

Sounded dubious.

Cao Cheng continued, "He’s even got Zhuo Gou, the top paparazzo, as his right-hand man. They’ve got dirt on half the industry."

"He knew about that Wu guy and his agent making snide remarks about me online, so he pulled some strings to get this video. Sent it straight to me."

"With my say-so, this clip goes viral, and Wu’s reputation is toast."

Second Sister finally understood.

Made sense.

She didn’t follow celebrity gossip, but she wasn’t clueless.

The entertainment world was all about backstabbing and blackmail.

Behind every scandal was a power play.

But—

Second Sister hesitated. "Wait, isn’t this Wu guy single? Sure, it’d cause a stir, but would it really ruin him?"

Cao Cheng leaned in, whispering in her ear with a sly grin.

Second Sister shivered.

She was about to smack him when he added, "Wu’s fanbase is mostly women who think he’s the ultimate 'uncle aesthetic'—aging like fine wine."

"But if those fans found out he clocks in at under five minutes, including undressing time... how many would bail?"

"Imagine the shame of stanning a guy who’s, well... functionally useless."

"..."

Second Sister’s face flushed.

Maybe from the heat of Cao Cheng’s proximity.

Either way, she punched his arm, scowling. "You’re terrible."

"How’s this my fault?" Cao Cheng laughed. "It’s his own issue. Probably wrecked his stamina young—three minutes flat. Even stray dogs last longer!"

"Pfft!" Second Sister burst out laughing.

Whether it was the crude joke or Cao Cheng’s exaggerated accent, she couldn’t stop giggling.

Her colleagues would’ve gaped in shock.

Their ice-cold captain, reduced to giggles over a raunchy punchline?

Who even was this woman?

Cao Cheng went on, "But the real kicker isn’t the performance. It’s the conversation between him and his agent in the video. It’ll shatter every fond memory fans ever had."

Second Sister asked, "What did they say?"

No way was she watching that video again—certain visuals were best avoided.

Cao Cheng spared her the details, summarizing instead.

Basically: the trio, the "Little Flying Tigers."

Fans had made peace with them never reuniting after that one Spring Festival Gala performance.

But nostalgia for the group ran deep.

Even a solo performance of their old hits could make fans weep.

A mere interview mention—"We’re still close, we keep in touch"—was enough to warm hearts.

Fans might be naive, but their love was pure.

And that purity meant zero tolerance for flaws. One misstep, and adoration turned to venom.

So when Wu was caught on tape:

- Plotting to exploit "Su" for connections.

- His agent trash-talking Su behind his back.

- Both mocking fans as "brainless sheep."

(Okay, fans were gullible. But you don’t say it!)

That one line alone would deter future stans—who’d admit to supporting someone who thinks they’re idiots?

And Wu leveraging Su’s mainland network? Real brothers don’t scheme like that.

Fans love mutual support—not calculated exploitation.

By the end, Second Sister got it.

This video could end Wu’s career. Permanently.

"Still..." Cao Cheng mused, smirking. "Gotta hand it to him—dude’s got skills. Must’ve practiced for years."

"What skills?" Second Sister blinked.

Cao Cheng raised two fingers skyward.

"Two fingers pierce the heavens!"

Second Sister stared, baffled.

What did that even mean?

Maybe she had a hint of mischief in her.

But her world was autopsies and crime scenes—way more straightforward.

She knew some things, just... not these things.

"Never mind. Better you don’t know," Cao Cheng shrugged.

Second Sister hated unsolved mysteries.

She yanked him closer, demanding, "Explain. Now."

"You really wanna know?"

"Obviously. I hate half-answers."

"Alright, but you asked for it."

Second Sister’s eyes narrowed. This felt risky... but curiosity won. "I did."

"Come on. I’ll demonstrate."

"You’re gonna show me?!" Second Sister gasped.

Cao Cheng said seriously, "Of course. I was afraid my explanation wouldn’t be clear enough, so I decided to demonstrate it for you myself."

"..."

Second Sister, half-convinced, left the living room with Cao Cheng and headed upstairs.

...

Truth be told,

this wasn’t the first time.

After years of playful bickering, they had grown increasingly close.

It was inevitable that certain... accidents would happen.

But they always stopped just short of crossing the line.

There were too many reservations.

Just like humans, confined to playing on the surface of the earth.

Understanding what lies deep within the planet? They weren’t quite there yet.

Hmm.

Not that the opportunity never arose.

Thinking back...

It was probably last year when things took a subtly different turn.

Had Ren's mother and Old Cao not suddenly returned, startling the two of them—and bringing along the news of a "pregnancy"—things might have progressed naturally that day.

What a shame.

Though today, no one disturbed them,

it still didn’t feel as natural.

The moment Cao Cheng began his performance of "Left Hand Points to the Moon," she "snapped out of it," flustered and furious, launching into a flurry of punches and kicks.

Luckily, Cao Cheng had some training—otherwise, he might not have made it out alive.

...

Back in the living room.

The front door opened, and The Fourth returned home. After changing her shoes, she glanced around.

A hint of confusion crossed her face.

Where’s that bratty little brother?

Every other time she came back, he’d either be drinking tea in the yard or lounging in the living room, playing on his laptop or phone—always with a cup of tea in hand.

Today, with the rain, the yard was empty.

But the brat wasn’t in the living room either?

Only a laptop sat on the coffee table, its screen dark.

"Fourth Young Miss," greeted Aunt Zhang.

The Fourth acknowledged her with a nod and asked casually, "Aunt Zhang, where’s that little rascal? Not home?"

"He’s here. Second Sister came back earlier, and they went upstairs," Aunt Zhang replied.

The Fourth didn’t think much of it and nodded. "Could you make me some juice? Orange is fine."

"Right away, Fourth Young Miss."

The Fourth didn’t head upstairs—dinner would be ready soon anyway.

These days, no one worked overtime.

Everyone left the office on time, now that the company had stabilized, unlike the exhausting early days of building it from scratch.

Plus, with a new addition to the family, coming home early meant they could help Ren's mother with the baby.

It was an unspoken understanding among the sisters.

Settling onto the sofa,

The Fourth turned on the large-screen TV. Aunt Zhang soon brought over a glass of juice.

The Fourth never sat properly.

Juice in hand, she curled into the sofa, her sheer-stockinged legs propped up on the coffee table with a thud.

The table wobbled slightly from the impact.

The movement made the laptop screen flicker to life.

"..."

Catching the glow from the corner of her eye, The Fourth instinctively turned her head—and nearly spat out her juice.

What the hell?

Seriously?

Her first thought mirrored Second Sister’s reaction: This desperate? Watching this in broad daylight? At home?

And in the living room, no less. Had he no shame?

Sure, the aunts rarely came in here,

but what if they did?

Wouldn’t that be awkward as hell?

A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind. Like a thief, The Fourth glanced around furtively, confirming no one was nearby. After wiping the juice from her lips, she clicked on the video.

"Tsk—"

"Bean Squad Action?"

"Pfft—Him?"

In an instant, The Fourth recognized the man on screen, her expression twisting into something strange.

She understood immediately.

In this household, only the slightly devious Fourth truly grasped just how ruthless Cao Cheng could be.

And when he set out to ruin someone, he went all in.

Like that incident with "Big Shi Speaks His Mind." What had the guy even done? Just took some money to be a troll.

Yet Cao Cheng retaliated by digging up dirt on eighteen generations of his family.

As Cao Cheng put it: "Shoot the loudest bird. If you dare stick your neck out, the only outcome is death."

In other words, the other trolls could be let off with a warning.

But the ringleader? No matter what, he had to be crushed.

That was Cao Cheng’s way.

And now,

the agent of that Wu celebrity had chosen to be the loudest bird.

Clearly, Cao Cheng intended to ensure this pair of lovebirds met a dead end.

No retreat. No surrender.

Tap tap tap—

Just then, rapid footsteps echoed from upstairs.

The Fourth turned to see Cao Cheng rushing down, his clothes slightly disheveled, as if fleeing from a wild beast.

Spotting The Fourth, and noticing her holding his laptop, Cao Cheng greeted her politely:

"Fourth Sister, you’re back. Enjoying the show?"

"..."

The Fourth’s face darkened—then flushed crimson.