Show-off. This was absolutely a show-off.
That damned little dragon wasn't even subtle about it—she kept idly stroking that smooth, gleaming tail, her calm eyes staring straight through the screen at Swire, as if she were saying:
The thing you're desperate for is something I can get with a casual reach of my hand.
Unbelievable. Just because they were siblings, she could act this lawless? And what kind of sister got this intimate with her own brother?
You deranged brother-obsessed freak—rein it in!
Standing in the cold wind outside Chen Mo's door, Swire's forehead veins bulged. Her right hand clenched into a fist.
"Is this fun for you, Rice-Roll Dragon? You just want to watch me lose it, don't you?!"
"It's your mind that's filthy."
Ch'en Hui-chieh set the towel she'd been using to wipe the tail aside, her expression unchanged.
"This is just normal sibling interaction. Char Siu Cat, what exactly are you imagining?"
Normal? You call this normal?!
Her hand was practically halfway to the base of his tail, and she still had the nerve to wear that deadpan "I'm an upstanding officer" face. Who was she fooling?
Swire almost cursed out loud—but when she saw Chen Mo on the screen, looking equally unconcerned, she swallowed the profanity back down.
Fine. Forget how siblings "should" act. She didn't care.
She snapped her attention to Chen Mo, who was sprawled across Ch'en's lap, playing games with obvious amusement.
"Chen Mo. Are you free today?"
So what if Ch'en was his sister? As long as Swire landed Chen Mo, this permanently sour-faced Ch'en would become her little sister sooner or later.
Today's humiliation would be repaid—with interest.
Not only would Swire rub his tail right in front of Ch'en, she'd—she'd—
"He's not free."
Before Swire could even finish thinking, Ch'en spoke first—flatly—and immediately ended the video call.
Beep—beep—
Swire stood frozen at Chen Mo's door, left alone in the cold wind, blank-eyed.
Meanwhile, Chen Mo turned his head, puzzled, and looked at Ch'en, who was as calm as ever.
"Wasn't Swire the blind date you all set up for me? Why—"
"This is just to make her understand something," Ch'en cut in. "With me here, she will never succeed that easily."
As she spoke, she lightly patted Chen Mo's back, signaling him to get up.
"Her real competitors are Texas and Exusiai. A couple of law-skirting hoodlums—not worth mentioning. That's why Char Siu Cat never felt any urgency."
This would also make Swire understand:
If I introduce Chen Mo to you, then you'll develop the relationship properly—within the rules.
If that Char Siu Cat wanted to act on whatever messy, dirty, disgusting fantasies were rotting in her head, then she would need Ch'en's approval first.
And whether Ch'en would ever approve… was another matter entirely.
"But you're kind of like Talulah," Chen Mo said, a bit lazily.
He sat up beside the little dragon and, without hesitation, tugged Ch'en's slender black tail over to him and began idly playing with it.
"And even if I… get married someday, it's not like I'll stop seeing you. I don't know where you people get this crazy possessiveness from."
"I'm not like that deranged Talulah."
Ch'en's answer was immediate—sharp, resolute, and unusually serious.
"She indulges you without limits. I have strict expectations for you."
Then she raised a hand in a crisp, commanding gesture and pointed at the steaming breakfast on the table.
"Now. After you eat, you will go running."
Chen Mo stared, stunned, and pointed at himself.
"Little sis… you haven't forgotten I'm a Draco, right?"
"Even a Draco becomes slovenly and weak without exercise—an abandoned red dragon with no presence."
Ch'en grabbed Chen Mo by the wrist and marched him toward the dining room.
"Since you've chosen to live in my home, I will be supervising your physical and mental well-being the entire time."
"I hope you won't disappoint me—as your sister."
…To be honest, he missed Talulah.
Chen Mo let out a long sigh. The breakfast he'd been excited for just moments ago now tasted like chewing wax.
He wondered when Talulah would finally come back and look in on him—come stop her little sister's harsh "discipline" of her precious brother.
Victoria.
On barren land, thunderous impacts echoed without end.
Boom.
"Why are you so impatient, Red Dragon?" the woman's voice rang out, light with amusement. "Did I strike a nerve?"
Flame tore at flame—dead, violet fire colliding with searing, living inferno.
The platinum Draco, halberd in hand, parried Talulah's storm of strikes again and again. Watching the murderous face just inches away, she spoke as though she were merely enjoying a conversation.
"You understand, Talulah. How vital it is for the Draco to continue on this land."
"He's your blood. Your family. Surely you want your most precious treasure to find happiness."
"Then why are you angry? Why do you attack me?"
Steel screamed.
Sparks burst in a blinding spray as Talulah drove the platinum dragon back dozens of meters in a single violent exchange.
"He is not yours to touch," Talulah snarled. "Stranger."
She raised her cold-glinting sword within a sea of fire. The terrifying heat radiating from her body made her emotions unmistakable.
"I will never acknowledge some random lunatic like you as my brother's future partner."
"How foolish."
The platinum Draco withdrew her deathly flames. She lowered her hostility first, smiling again—smooth, composed, almost indulgent.
"All I see in you is frantic possessiveness. You treat any woman who draws near your brother as an enemy, Red Dragon."
"Tell me, Talulah of Reunion—does the continuation of Draco blood truly mean so little to you?"
"And why are you so certain… that I cannot give your brother happiness?"
Happiness?
To Talulah, it sounded like a joke.
This woman—this scheming, trouble-stinking stranger—clearly cared only about "bloodlines" and "legitimacy." She'd drag Chen Mo off and use him as a breeding tool to cement her so-called rightful Victorian throne.
Talulah had no intention of wasting words.
She raised her sword again, and the flames surged, swelling into the heavens.
"Enough. No matter how sweet you make it sound, I will not agree."
Her black blade pointed straight at the unguarded platinum Draco. Talulah's face hardened—ready to fight to the death.
"Either we keep fighting… or you leave. Now."
Her resolve burned in her fire. Wherever her gaze fell, catastrophe followed.
The sky blazed crimson. The heat was so intense the ground itself cracked open.
Seeing that, the platinum Draco lost interest in negotiation.
But she still offered a smile—one meant for her "future sister"—and bid farewell.
"The process was unpleasant," she said lightly, "but I have the answer I wanted. Thank you for enlightening me, my dear sister."
"The glory of the Red Dragon will once again step onto the red carpet of the Western Grand Hall—and you will be among the honored guests."
"I hope you'll set aside your prejudice and attend… to witness my wedding of the century with your brother."
A roaring stream of flame lunged toward her—only to strike empty air.
All that remained was her lingering laugh, echoing through the scorched wind.
"Victoria will return to the Draco's embrace."
"And your brother will stand at the summit—as my partner."
"Farewell, my sister."
"I am Eblana… and I look forward to your change of heart."
....
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