My sister, whom I raised, has turned evil after faking her death for three years.

The next morning, Su Qing sent Jiang Ran to school and watched the little girl's figure disappear around the corner of the corridor with her rabbit backpack before turning around and walking towards the subway station.

She's going somewhere today.

The system listed a long list of job opportunities, which she glanced at and then closed. After thinking it over, she decided to try the place she was most familiar with first.

The shop is called "Half Sugar" and is located on a bustling commercial street in West Street.

The store is small, but the quality is very high.

Two years ago, when Su Qing was still working on a construction site, one night she got off work too late and the convenience stores were all closed. She was walking back on an empty stomach when she was lured in by this aroma.

The cheapest bread in the store was three yuan each, so she bought two and sat on the curb at the store entrance to eat them.

The boss, a man two years older than her, came out of the kitchen and saw her wolfing down her food. He didn't say anything, but turned back and got another cup of hot milk and placed it next to her.

Later, he asked her if she wanted to come and help out at the store, with meals provided and wages paid daily.

She worked at "Half Sugar" for two years, working her way up from a waitress to someone who could help watch the front desk.

The boss's name is Yan Ning, a name that sounds a bit aloof but is pronounced very gently, just like him. He doesn't talk much or smile much, but he's always the first to lend a helping hand whenever Su Qing is in trouble.

Those two years were the best days of Su Qing's life.

No need to endure wind and sun, no need to argue with the foreman, every morning when you open the shop door you can smell the sweet and sour aroma of fermenting bread.

Yan Ning would peek out from the kitchen, tilting her chin toward the counter, as if to say, "The front desk is now in your hands."

The two got along well; it was a natural understanding, not a daily chat, but they both knew the other was someone they could trust.

After falling ill, Su Qing never went to the shop again.

The messages on her phone kept piling up. First, they asked why she hadn't come to work, then they asked if something had happened, then every few hours they would send a "reply" message, and finally it became a period every half day.

Every time Su Qing saw that period, she felt a tightness in her chest, but she never replied to any of them.

At that time, the doctor said she had at most three months left. She thought that since she was going to die anyway, she might as well disappear cleanly rather than make people suffer.

Now that she's not dead, and has even turned into a woman, when she looks at the chat box again, filled with countless unread messages and those lonely periods, she feels a chill run down her spine.

It wasn't that she didn't want to reply, but that she didn't dare to. She also didn't know how to explain it.

Su Qing stood on the street opposite "Half Sugar," looking at the familiar glass door across the street.

The morning sun was shining brightly on the slender, golden characters of the signboard. The ginkgo trees in front of the door had already begun to shed their leaves, and golden leaves covered the ground.

She put her phone in her pocket, took a deep breath, and thought to herself, "I'm already here, I can't just stand across the street and watch all day."

As for how to explain her disappearance for the past two months, she had already prepared a story on her way here.

She silently recited the passage in her mind, finding the logic barely coherent, and then stepped across the street.

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The system calmly spoke in her mind: [Host, a comprehensive analysis shows that your fabricated story has multiple medical flaws.]

[Hormonal changes do not alter bone structure, nor do they cause a change in overall gender identity. The probability of being believed is extremely low; I estimate it to be around—]

"Can you wait until I fail before you pour cold water on me?" Su Qing interrupted in her mind.

[Okay, saved. I'll call it again after you fail~ (￣▽￣～)~]

Su Qing "..."

Looking at the gloating emoticon, Su Qing's lips twitched. She didn't know what the system had analyzed that made it say this would help them get along.

But Su Qing felt that it was best to deal with the immediate matter first.

She walked to the glass door, about to push it open, and found that the store was already bustling with activity.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, you can see a young woman at the front desk wiping the coffee machine, several bakers in aprons walking back and forth in the kitchen, the oven timers jingling, and the air filled with the aroma of butter and caramel.

She hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the doorknob without falling.

Then she started reciting the same line in her mind again. After a couple of sentences, she felt it didn't flow well, so she changed her wording and recited it again, but it still felt full of loopholes.

She sighed, looked down at her toes, and unconsciously muttered the words "hormone levels," "rare disease," and "post-illness changes."

Then the wind chimes on the door rang once.

She didn't push him; he was pushed from the inside.

Su Qing looked up and saw a figure leaning against the door frame, wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing half of a neatly shaped forearm.

The dark green apron had traces of flour and butter on it, probably from when she came out of the kitchen.

He was more than half a head taller than her, with deep facial features, high brow bones, and slightly upturned eyes. He habitually squinted slightly when looking at people.

Her hair was a little longer than it had been two months ago, with stray hairs casually brushing against her brow bone. There was a faint bluish tint under her eyes, as if she hadn't been sleeping well lately.

He stood backlit by the warm light in the store, his expression shrouded in shadow, making it difficult to discern, but Su Qing recognized his eyes all too well.

Yan Ning leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, staring at her expressionlessly for about ten seconds.

"How long are you going to keep talking to yourself like that?"

He had noticed Su Qing standing across the street earlier, but he wasn't sure, since in his memory Su Qing only looked like a girl and didn't have long hair.

Now, standing before him, seeing the girl muttering to herself and making those unconscious little gestures, he dared not be certain that this girl was indeed Su Qing.

Upon hearing this, Su Qing froze.

She turned around, her mouth slightly open, and the speech she had rehearsed all the way through her mind was completely cleared away at that moment.

She looked at Yan Ning's face, and he was looking at her too. His eyes were bloodshot, and the dark circles under his eyes were more obvious in the sunlight, but his gaze was steady, with an undisguised scrutiny.

Su Qing's heart pounded, her lips moved, but she could only manage to squeeze out a dry, guilty, and embarrassed sentence.

"Yan... Brother Yan Ning..."

Hearing the voice, which was noticeably softer, Yan Ning's brow twitched slightly.

That expression was so subtle that Su Qing wouldn't have noticed it at all if she hadn't known him for two years.

He stepped aside, making room for the doorway, his tone the same indifferent one Su Qing recognized.

But what Su Qing didn't see was that his fingers gripping the door frame were slightly white, as if he was using a lot of strength to make himself look calm enough.

"Come in and we'll talk."