Xu Yinuo stood in a red dress, a flame-bright bloom under the sun; Tang Coco let out a sigh, a thin mist slipping from her chest.

The memory of the amusement island rose like a tide; she wanted distance like a shoreline pulled back, but school closed in like walls.

“Yo, yo—our great beauty Tang is back,” Xu Yinuo drawled, arms folded like willow branches resting.

“Tch. You knew I was back,” Tang Coco said, eyes rolling like pebbles skimming a pond.

“That’s different,” Xu Yinuo pouted, a soft cloud of grievance; “last time at the hotel we already… and you didn’t tell me first thing?”

“Hotel?” Meng Xiaoxiao caught the word like a fish hook snagging silk.

“Stop! Hold it!” Tang Coco’s voice snapped like a twig, wary wind rising in her chest.

“Let’s talk business. Why did you call me here?” Her tone cooled like shade under bamboo.

“To help you,” Xu Yinuo smiled, warmth like summer light; “it’s hot, your delicate self might wilt, so come in the service entrance with me.”

“...” The ellipsis hung like three raindrops about to fall.

“Fine, you’ve got a shred of conscience. Lead the way,” she said, stepping forward like a cat into dusk.

Xu Yinuo laughed, a silver bell in a garden, and led Tang Coco inside like guiding down a narrow lane.

“Great beauty Tang, what are you performing later?” she asked, voice easy as a breeze through reeds.

“Perform? What performance? I never said I’d perform,” Tang Coco replied, hands still as stones.

“Huh? Isn’t the whole school buzzing you’ll face off with Mo Zitong?” Xu’s words stirred like sparrows.

“You believe that rumor? I never said I’d face her; we aren’t even close,” Tang Coco muttered, cheeks puffed like steamed buns.

“Oh? Sounds like you’ve met,” Xu Yinuo noted, eyes sharp as a pin under lamp light.

“...” Tang Coco fixed her with a stare, cold like winter water, anger pricking like frost.

“Alright, I’m not hosting today,” Xu soothed, voice soft as gauze; “you can sit with me and watch.”

“Mm.” The hum settled like dust after rain.

“You two sit here for now,” she added, waving like a reed; “I’ll hand off some things and come fetch you.”

“Okay,” Tang Coco said, the word falling like a pebble to ground.

“Coco-jie, Xu Yinuo seems nice,” Meng Xiaoxiao whispered, warmth like tea in cupped hands.

“She is, but her tricks are many—just like you,” Tang Coco teased, eyes glinting like foxfire.

“Huh? Like me?” Meng Xiaoxiao pointed at herself, confusion fluttering like a moth.

“Right! Coco-jie, be honest—what hotel was she talking about? Which time? Was it the amusement park trip? Didn’t you have your own suite?” Her questions spilled like beads from a broken string.

“Uh…” The sound hovered like a hesitant kite.

“Yeah, my own room,” Tang Coco said, words neat as folded paper; “don’t let her fool you, she’s baiting you.”

“Really?” Meng Xiaoxiao’s doubt wavered like ripples in a bowl.

“Of course. How could I do anything with her?” Tang Coco shrugged, a cool leaf turning.

“You wouldn’t, but I worry she’d do something to you; you’re so weak…” Meng’s concern landed like soft rain.

“…” Tang Coco’s face froze like a pond under night, silence sealing like ice.

“I’m ignoring you!” Her retreat was quick as a startled sparrow.

“Wait, wait—my bad,” Meng pleaded, clinging to Tang Coco’s arm like ivy on a wall; “I’ll believe you, okay?”

“Tch.” The click of her tongue was a pebble flicked into grass.

They got bored waiting, boredom pooling like stagnant water, so Meng Xiaoxiao tried on a row of hanging costumes, spinning like a wind-up doll.

When a fit went wrong, Tang Coco teased her, laughter bright as sun on ripples; time slid by like sand, half an hour gone.

Xu Yinuo finally returned, a swift step like a swan’s glide, and led them from backstage to the front row like cutting through reeds.

The show began, opening lines rolling like drums, songs and dances like woven silk, tiny skits like paper-cut silhouettes.

“How is it? Really not going on? I can slot you in anytime,” Xu whispered, her voice a thread in the noise.

“No. Not interested,” Tang Coco said, mood flat as a still lake at dawn.

“Heh-heh—soon you might need me,” Xu said, mischief flickering like foxfire in long grass.

“...” Tang Coco fell silent, puzzlement drifting like smoke; she didn’t know why.

The second half arrived, and Mo Zitong’s moment rose like the moon, the audience’s breath pulled like tide.

The stage lights cut out, darkness pooled like ink; from the front row, Tang Coco saw shadows rushing, props moving like ants.

“What’s she doing?” Tang Coco asked, curiosity pricking like a thorn.

“Magic,” Xu Yinuo replied, one word clean as snow.

“Magic? She can do that?” Tang Coco blinked, surprise scattering like startled birds.

“Maybe,” Xu said with a shrug like loose cloth; “it’s her first show, no rehearsal. I don’t know.”

Soft light bloomed onstage like dawn mist, and Mo Zitong stood center in a black off-shoulder minidress, sleek as night water.

“Wow!!!” The cry lifted like a flock taking off.

“Pa-pa-pa!” Applause cracked like firecrackers, cheers rolled like thunder; Mo Zitong’s popularity surged like spring flood.

“Hello, everyone,” her voice rang clear as a bell; “as a member of the Magic Club, I’ll perform a magic trick.”

Her voice was beautiful, a cool stream over stone; after speaking, she looked down and smiled at Tang Coco, a crescent moon tipping toward her.