The girls walked another twenty minutes, the road stretching like a lazy river, before the hotel finally rose like an island of light.

“Hello, welcome—” The receptionist’s smile drifted in like a spring breeze.

“Not hello! I feel awful! I’m gonna die from this…” Meng Xiaoxiao panted, breath huffing like a bellows.

“I’m sorry, you’ve arrived on our ancient-style theme day,” the attendant said, voice soft as falling snow. “Please rest in your rooms first.”

“It’s fine, it’s fun,” Ye Yiyi said with a street-corner smile, like catching a warm gust in an old alley. “Haven’t walked like this in ages.”

“Alright, please come draw your keycards.” The hostess beckoned like a lantern leading the way.

“Draw? What does that mean?” Meng Yuting tilted her head, curiosity flickering like a firefly.

“No idea. Let’s go see,” Gu Xin said, shaking her head like a leaf settling after wind, and they moved to the front desk.

“Please give me your IDs.” Her hands hovered over the counter like swallows over water.

They handed them over, the plastic clicking like pebbles in a stream.

“Alright, one moment…” Her fingers danced on the keyboard, a quiet rain of taps across a still lake.

“All set. The system will assign rooms at random, two per room.” She turned the monitor, the screen glinting like a pond under sun.

“Huh? But there are five of us…” Meng Xiaoxiao blinked, surprise popping like a bubble.

“It’s fine. One guest will have a room to herself,” the hostess said, voice steady as a straight path.

“Oh, okay.” The answer fell like a pebble that made no waves.

“Alright.” With their nod, the hostess set the system rolling, numbers tumbling like lots in a bamboo tube, and the results popped up fast.

“Miss Meng Yuting and Miss Meng Xiaoxiao share a room.”

“Ah—!” they cried in unison, twin sparrows startled from the same branch.

“Pfft—hehe— you two… ha ha—” Gu Xin burst out laughing, the sound spilling like sparkling water, and even Ye Yiyi and Tang Coco couldn’t help but laugh, like chimes in a breeze.

“Miss Gu Xin and Miss Ye Yiyi share a room.”

“Mm.” They traded a nod, warm as a lantern’s glow.

“So I’m in a room by myself?” Tang Coco asked, a little ripple of relief cooling her chest like shade under a tree.

“Yes. Miss Tang Coco will have her own room,” the receptionist said with a smile bright as polished jade. Tang Coco’s heart settled, smooth as silk; a room alone was the easiest wind to ride.

“Sis Coco! I’ll go to your room!” Meng Xiaoxiao darted over and hugged her arm, clinging like ivy to a wall.

“Huh? No, no! Go keep your sister company.” Tang Coco flapped her hands like a bird shooing trouble; she couldn’t let this little gremlin roost with her.

“You little brat, are you despising me?” Meng Yuting planted her hands on her hips, a tigress guarding her hill.

“N-no… I… wouldn’t dare…” Meng Xiaoxiao wilted at once, a flower drooping after rain.

“Ladies, please rest first,” the attendant said, voice smooth as tea. “This afternoon, head to the costume area. Pick today’s theme outfits and blend into the event faster, like stepping into a painted scroll.”

“Oh, got it,” Ye Yiyi replied, her tone as easy as clouds drifting.

“My room’s on the sixth floor. Yours?” Tang Coco glanced at her keycard, the gold stripe gleaming like a thread.

“Ours too,” Gu Xin said, calm as a paired set of footprints. “Shouldn’t be far. We came to play together, after all.”

“True.”

“Let’s rest first,” Ye Yiyi said, checking her phone like consulting a pocket sundial. “Two o’clock. We meet at the costume area.”

“Okay.”

“Sis Coco—” Meng Xiaoxiao hadn’t given up, scooting over again like a kitten after a ribbon.

“Ah— I’m wiped. I’m going.” Tang Coco rubbed her temples in an exaggerated arc, like smoothing stormy waves, and slipped toward the elevator.

“Waa— Sis Coco, don’t abandon me—”

“You get back here! Say it! Are you looking down on me?” Meng Yuting surged forward and caught Meng Xiaoxiao’s ear, fingers pinching like a crab’s claw.

“Ow ow ow— it hurts—it hurts— stop tugging—” Meng Xiaoxiao yelped, waving surrender like a white flag.

“Hehe— let’s go too.” Gu Xin tilted her head toward the elevator, her smile a quiet crescent.

“Mm.” Ye Yiyi followed, steps light as falling petals.

Tang Coco found her door by the numbers that lined the hall like milestones. She tapped the card; the lock clicked like a cricket, and she slipped inside. The room bloomed lush and bright: cream-patterned wallpaper like ripples in pale milk; a gigantic all-in-one computer hung on the wall like a black mirror; across from it, a luxurious double bed stretched like a snowy field. Seeing the bed, a thought landed—two per room meant sharing a blanket of stars. The groupings were fine: Meng Xiaoxiao and Meng Yuting were sisters, close as vines; Gu Xin and Ye Yiyi were both gentle types, steady as warm lamps. No storms there.

With that, Tang Coco tossed her phone onto the bed, a soft thump like a pebble into moss, and let herself fall backward, the mattress catching her like a cloud. She was tired, not just bone-tired like a traveler at dusk, but heart-tired, like a kite after wind. Too much had happened today.

Sleep took her quickly, quiet as snowfall.

In Gu Xin and Ye Yiyi’s room, the air felt fresh, like a courtyard after rain.

“Mm, the place is nice,” Gu Xin said, satisfaction smooth as lacquer.

“Are you tired, Sis Gu?” Ye Yiyi asked, concern rippling like a small wave.

“I’m fine. Not tired,” Gu Xin said, voice steady as a straight reed.

“Sit, Yiyi. Let’s talk.” She patted the bed beside her, an invitation warm as a hearth.

“Okay—” Ye Yiyi sat, her skirt whispering like silk leaves.

“Do you live alone?” Gu Xin took her hand, the touch gentle as a ribbon.

“Yeah. My parents used to meddle in everything,” Ye Yiyi said, a sigh slipping out like steam. “So I moved out. Now I can live free, like a bird over open fields.”

“Oh, that’s good. Independence makes a girl shine,” Gu Xin said, praise light as sunlight on water.

“Hee-hee— what about you, Sis Gu? With that poise, what did you do before?” Ye Yiyi’s eyes sparkled like stars peeking through clouds.

“Me? I worked abroad for a few years.” Gu Xin kept it simple, the truth tucked away like a knife under silk; she couldn’t speak of the Shadow Division to a civilian.

“What about your parents?” Ye Yiyi asked, curiosity soft as a moth’s wing.

“They’re abroad too, managing companies,” Gu Xin said, words falling clean as rain lines. “I’m like you. I didn’t want to live under their shelter forever, so I stepped out on my own, like a young tree seeking sun.”

“Wow, Sis Gu, you really are amazing,” Ye Yiyi said, admiration blooming like a red camellia.

“You’re great too,” Gu Xin replied, her smile a steady flame behind glass.