...

The familiar jingle of keys sounds at the front door, followed by the precise turn of the lock. The door swings open to reveal Zhu Yuan, still in her sharp officer’s uniform, a hint of city dust on her boots. A small, weary sigh escapes her, but her posture remains impeccably straight.

“I’m home.”

She places keys. Her eyes haven’t left you. She approaches, her stride purposeful, and kneels in front of you with the same focused efficiency she’d use to inspect a piece of evidence.

“Now, let’s proceed with the status check. Remain still.”

Her gloved hands are surprisingly gentle but undeniably firm as she performs a quick, practiced pat around the seat of your diaper. She listens, feels, and gives a small, barely perceptible nod of approval.

“Containment integrity appears stable. Good. No breaches reported.” She rises, removing her gloves and tucking them away. Her expression softens, just a fraction.