Li Muyan’s head cleared a notch, like fog thinning at dawn.

She spotted Tang Coco trying to slip away, a shadow skimming along a wall.

“Stop right there,” Li called, her voice snapping like a twig in cold wind.

It’s over. She saw me, Tang thought, her heart sinking like a stone into a well.

She halted, like a deer freezing under torchlight, but she didn’t turn back.

She rasped, voice rough as sand, “Anything you need, ma’am? We bumped by accident. Sorry.”

Li paused at the hoarse tone, a beat like rain holding its breath.

Then the trick clicked, like a mask slipping in lamplight.

So she’s faking it, she thought, a fox curling behind a mask.

“Hey, I told you to turn around,” Li said, words sparking like flint on steel. “You hit me and think you can just walk?”

Not over yet. Don’t think a pretty face makes me bow, Tang seethed, thorns rising like a bramble in her chest.

“Ma’am, neither of us saw the other,” she said, tone flat as a still pond. “I apologize. I’ve got other work, so I’ll go.”

She bolted for the service elevator, feet fluttering like startled swallows.

Li gave chase for a few steps, but her heels bit like iron shackles, and she had to stop.

“Hey! Stop, or I’ll go to your boss!” she shouted, her cry cutting the hall like a hawk’s call.

Tang ignored her, slipped inside, and the elevator door slid shut like a blade.

Li stared at the sealed doors and stomped, anger pecking like a sparrow.

Fine. Great. Just wait, she thought, eyes sharpening like a knife under the moon.

I don’t believe I can’t catch you. I’ve got a way, she smirked, a cat hiding claws.

She turned toward the room, stride smoothing like a river finding its bed.

Inside, Ye Yiyi sat on the sofa, the TV painting the air with anime colors like paper kites.

At nineteen, she still loved those bright worlds, like a child tracing clouds.

She saw Li Muyan come in and smiled, a warm crescent like a new moon.

Li dropped onto the couch and looped her arm through Ye’s, clinging like ivy.

“How are you, Yiyi? Still thinking about your parents?” she asked, voice soft as night rain.

“No. I’m fine,” Ye answered, gentle as a spring breeze. “You drank too much again.”

“Hee-hee, not really,” Li said, her laugh drifting like bubbles. “Got dizzy for a bit. I came to check on you.”

“Mm. Let’s rest and then head home,” Ye said, her words settling like tea leaves.

“Okay, but I’ve got one more thing to do,” Li said, eyes bright as stars. “I’ll need your help.”

“Mm? What is it? Tell me,” Ye asked, curiosity flickering like a moth.

“Simple. Call housekeeping for a room clean,” Li said, like tossing a pebble into a pond.

“Why don’t you call? And the room isn’t even dirty,” Ye said, brows arching like willow leaves.

“Come on, just call. You’ll see why in a bit,” Li said, mystery pooling like mist.

“All right,” Ye agreed at last, her doubt curling like smoke.

In this hotel, guests request service by video, the in-room screen glowing like a blue lake.

Tang Coco fled to the first-floor storeroom, breath skittering like leaves in wind.

Two cleaners in their forties chatted there, their voices low as crickets.

They saw her rush in, ragged as a chased cat, and looked curious, but said nothing.

Tang found a stool and sat, knees light as reeds in current.

Good thing I ran, or I’d be in real trouble, she thought, fear cooling like ash. I’m undocumented.

She steadied her breath, letting it fall like rain onto dry earth.

Then the workroom intercom chimed, a metal bird pecking the air.

A logistics woman walked over and answered, traded a few words, then hung up like dropping a curtain.

She came to Tang and asked, voice clipped like a knife, “Is the eleventh floor yours?”

“Yeah, it’s mine,” Tang said, bafflement drifting like fog. “What’s up?”

“Did you finish your work?” the woman asked, impatience pricking like nettles.

“Not yet,” Tang said, her answer small as a pebble.

“Then why’d you come down?” the woman snapped, anger cracking like thunder. “A guest already asked for cleaning. Is this how you work?”

“...”

Tang couldn’t say she had fled, the truth sticking like pitch.

The woman frowned, lines etching like dry riverbeds. “Forget it. Go to 1113 now and clean.”

“It’s your first time, I’ll let it slide. No slacking next time,” she added, voice heavy as rain.

“Oh,” Tang answered, the word falling like a seed.

She grabbed tools and a trash bag, then headed to the elevator, steps steady as a drumbeat.

What else could she do, she thought, the question drifting like a leaf.

After a while, Tang reached the eleventh floor, eyes sweeping like a broom.

The drunk woman wasn’t there, the corridor calm as a sleeping street.

She walked to Room 13, then a thought dropped like ice.

Could this be that drunk woman’s room?

She hesitated at the door, heart fluttering like a caged bird.

If it’s her, what then, she fretted, doubts circling like crows.

After a breath, she decided to try, and tapped the door, light as rain.

Inside, Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan watched TV, colors washing the walls like a stream.

Knuckles rapped, and Li’s mouth curled, a hook catching the moon.

Here she comes, she thought, triumph warm as a brazier.

“Yiyi, you open up,” Li whispered, plotting like a fox in grass. “Let her in to clean.”

“What are you even doing? So mysterious,” Ye asked, her gaze clear as a lake.

“Just trust me,” Li said, mischief dancing like fireflies. “I’ll show you something fun.”

Ye gave up on asking, the question wilting like a petal.

She rose and walked to the door, steps light as feathers.

Li slipped behind a huge potted plant by the door, hiding like a cicada in bark.

Ye stared at her antics, speechless as stone, then turned the handle.

Tang had knocked once and heard nothing, the silence deep as a well.

She lifted her hand to knock again, and the door swung open like a fan.

A long-haired beauty stood there, bright as a blade, and Tang blinked in surprise.

She hadn’t expected it to be this pretty woman; her gaze fell like a shutter.

Ye paused too, a heartbeat caught like a kite string. It was the same cleaner from the hall.

“Did you request room cleaning?” Tang rasped, her voice rough as gravel.

“Oh… yes, I did,” Ye said, stepping back like a tide. “Come in.”

Tang entered and saw the room wasn’t very messy, the TV still playing an anime like a lantern show.

This needs cleaning? she wondered, the thought curling like steam. Maybe she’s a neat freak.

She started to work, re-wiping surfaces, her cloth gliding like a cloud.

Ye closed the door and glanced toward the plant, where Li pressed a finger to her lips like a reed.

Ye exhaled and let it be, returning to the sofa like a drifting boat.

After wiping the table, Tang noticed the beauty watching anime, side profile soft as peach fuzz.

She saw snack wrappers on the coffee table and moved to clear them, hands quick as swallows.

Ye watched the cleaner in front and couldn’t hold back, her worry warm as sunlight.

“Aren’t you hot? You’re dressed so thick,” she asked, the question floating like dandelion fluff.

Tang’s heart sweetened, like sugar melting in tea. This beauty was kind.

“It’s fine. I’m not hot. I’m used to it. Thanks,” she said, voice gentle as dusk.

Then a voice came from the doorway, slicing the air like a blade.

“Oh yeah? I bet you don’t dare take off that jacket!”