“Cough, cough…”

A voice drifted in from the side, and Mo Zitong and Tang Coco froze like dragonflies trapped on a cold pond. Mo Zitong was centimeters from Tang Coco’s lips. They turned. Ye Yiyi was awake, one hand braced on the wall like a root seeking ground, her gaze calm as still water. The surface looked placid, but Tang Coco felt a thin blade of killing intent sliding under that water.

“Yi… Yiyi? You’re awake…”

Tang Coco spoke, awkward, like a cat with wet paws.

“What are you two doing?”

Ye Yiyi asked, face unreadable, a mask carved from frost.

“I—”

“Yiyi~ honestly, how can a sip make you tipsy~”

Mo Zitong laughed, slipped off Tang Coco, smoothed her clothes like pressing ripples, then walked toward Ye Yiyi to steady her. Ye Yiyi refused. She slapped Mo Zitong’s hand away, fast as a sparrow’s wing.

“As I thought, you weren’t up to any good.”

Ye Yiyi shot Mo Zitong a glance, cold as a winter star, then went to Tang Coco. Mo Zitong’s lifted hand hung in midair like a stranded branch.

“Come home with me.”

Ye Yiyi seized Tang Coco’s wrist and pulled, a river current grabbing reed. She dragged her toward the villa door.

“Mm—”

The sound slipped out of Tang Coco. Ye Yiyi’s grip was too strong, the pain bit like a dog at her wrist. Her strength hadn’t fully recovered. She could only be pulled, like a kite in a rough wind.

Behind them, Mo Zitong watched that departing back, silence pooling around her like dusk rain. In that instant, a nameless sting pricked her heart.

Bang!

Ye Yiyi shoved Tang Coco into the car and slammed the door, the sound hard as stone on stone. She slid into the driver’s seat and drove toward her villa, headlights cutting a pale path.

Along the way, the air in the car felt heavy, like storm clouds sitting low. Tang Coco didn’t know how to explain; any path of words would lead into their old forest of stories—Ye Yiyi and Mo Zitong’s past.

“What’s wrong? No strength left to explain? Is she that irresistible to you?”

Ye Yiyi looked ahead, anger sharpening her voice like a knife’s edge.

“No way. I’m thinking how to tell you.”

“Oh. Then don’t bother.”

“…”

Speechless, Tang Coco stared at her, hollow as a struck bell. It was the first time she’d seen Ye Yiyi this angry at her.

Silence fell again, soft as ash, and soon they reached home. Ye Yiyi opened the villa door and went straight upstairs to her bedroom. Tang Coco shut the door behind them and hurried after, like a shadow chasing its source.

“Yiyi, I need to—”

Bang!

“…”

Before Tang Coco finished, Ye Yiyi closed her bedroom door without a backward glance. The sudden swing almost caught Tang Coco full-on, like a wave hitting a pier.

“Hey…”

Helplessness welled up first. Tang Coco shook her head and turned toward her own room, steps slow as a tired tide.

In her room, she fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, a blank sky of plaster. The thought rose that even ordinary life was knotted with helpless worries, like weeds in spring.

She lifted her right hand. Blue particles bloomed like fireflies and quickly formed a silver-white mechanical dagger, cold as moonlight. Looking at the blade, she drifted back to those days of fighting, a corridor of echoes.

“Why… why does Anomaly Power have to exist?”

“Because of it, how many lives were bent out of shape?”

Her chest tightened first. Tang Coco thought of her own path. She thought of brothers and lovers from before, then of Mo Zitong’s story. Because of Anomaly Power, their tracks were wrenched, most of them toward the dark.

“…”

“No. I can’t.”

Resolve struck like flint. She sat up, pulled out her phone, and dialed.

“Hello?”

“I was just about to call. How’s Yiyi?”

Mo Zitong’s voice came through the line, thin as wire.

“I need to tell you something.”

Tang Coco spoke, steady, like a stake in the ground.

“What is it?”

“About you and Yiyi. I’ll help explain, but you have to show up with a stance. I’ll open the first door. Whether you two find your way back depends on you.”

“…”

Silence hung for a beat, a moth near a lamp.

“Okay. I know what to do.”

“Good. That’s it.”

She was about to end the call, but Mo Zitong’s voice cut in:

“Coco! ………… Thank you…”

“…”

Tang Coco didn’t answer. She hung up and walked toward the bathroom, water on her mind like a clean horizon.