Up ahead, a ripple of commotion shivered like grass in a sudden gust. No need to guess—the culprit stood out like a footprint in wet clay. The three fell quiet, moods cooling like untouched tea. After a hitch like that, what could reset the heart better than riding an iron dragon?

Around five minutes later, their turn finally came. A yellow, boxy coaster rolled in, an iron hive stacked in seven or eight rows. Four rows made a square, the rear block split again, each row swallowing about nine people. Whatever the track carved, that was the beast the rails summoned.

Everyone, them and the other travelers, let the earlier sourness slip away like rain off tiles. They shoved bags onto the rack, chattered bright as sparrows, and climbed aboard. “Bro, have you done this one?” Xiao Qianxue settled gingerly, lifted her arms, and pulled the bar down like a winter gate. On Lu Ke’s other side, Gu Wen had already braced up, face taut, clutching his harness like a raft in a storm.

Relief first, then pride warmed Lu Ke’s chest. “Nope. This coaster only started running last week. It’s one reason I dragged you here. Lucky you two aren’t scared of rides—on the way I was plotting how to talk you onto it.” He tugged his own bar down, a free grin breaking like sunlight after cloud.

“Tch, we’re not that timid.” The gold-haired girl tucked stray strands back into her cap, one hand at the brim. The other rested lightly on Lu Ke’s hand, nine-petaled-white like a porcelain doll, calm as a dawn sea. No sweat, no tremor—like she was reclined on a Hawaiian shore, tasting waves and sun.

She turned her head. Beauty spilled from the hood like a hidden moon, and the corner of her mouth lifted, a willow leaf smiling. Lu Ke’s heart rippled. A staffer strode down the line, slamming and testing bars like hammer to anvil, making sure they locked. He reached her seat, saw that face, and froze mid-motion like a bird hit by light.

“Sir, hurry up!” Other riders, clueless about the spell, barked like crows. The worker blinked awake, rubbing his nose in embarrassment. The Little Loli gave him a gentle smile, spring-warm and brief. He flushed, snapped the check finished, and scuttled off like a crab.

“Xue’er, you smile at strangers now?” Confusion came first, then curiosity; Lu Ke couldn’t help it. With him, she was soft snow; with others, iron frost. “Hah? Just a bit of wicked fun. Don’t overthink it, bro.” Xiao Qianxue swung her hanging legs, careless as a cat under eaves.

“Knew it…” Lu Ke shut his eyes and let himself sink back, mind loose as driftwood. Beep-beep! The horn shrilled. “All passengers, hold the bars at launch. Don’t thrash around. Don’t stick your hands out. Remember!”

Toot! The bell cut through the air. The iron gate before them slid open like a drawbridge. “Enjoy your journey,” came the call. The coaster dropped weightless, a falling star off the earth. It snapped into a full 360, then shot toward the next exit. “Holy—this is just the start?!” A chorus burst behind them. Lu Ke’s face flushed crimson, whether fevered joy or fear. Beside him, Gu Wen looked almost unchanged, a stone in a river.

As for our Little Loli, her eyes curved in pleasure, lids like crescent moons. Bliss first, then mischief stirred; she almost wanted to pop the bar free. The ride’s overload pressed on her like a seaside breeze.

Aaaaaah! Aaaaaah! Screams braided the wind, left and right like gulls riding a storm. A blazing dive, windmill loops in chained 360s—anything you could wish for, the rail granted. At last, the train shot under a platform. “What is it? Are we done?” Blur-eyed riders peered around. “Just a relay station,” Lu Ke told them, steady as an anchor. The slow climb that followed proved him right.

Through it all, Xiao Qianxue never screamed. Gu Wen went from hugging his bar to clamping Lu Ke’s hand, fishing for comfort and getting only elbow-ache for free. Any accidental bonus was blocked by the harness. The next wave rolled in before his arm stopped throbbing.

Finally, it ended. The train eased into the terminus like a ship finding harbor. Even Xiao Qianxue felt a flicker of dizziness, a halo of mist in her head. Others were worse. Bars lifted. Half the passengers stood on will alone, then staggered and half-fell, steps like reeds in current. A few dashed aside to retch, waves breaking where they knelt.

The other half could barely rise, faces gray as ash, a breath from spilling guts. Only Xiao Qianxue walked steady, feet sure as a mountain goat. Even Lu Ke had to lean against a wall, gulping air like a fish on shore, while Gu Wen stayed in his seat, spirit blown thin as paper.

“Congratulations to our first-week champion—our first passenger to walk out steady!” A staffer boomed, voice like a drum. He reached for a prize. “You win one… three ice-cream discount coupons!” The hoodie-and-jeans boy—no, girl—raised three fingers with a breeze-light grin, and the count changed. Money wasn’t the issue, but saving felt like catching rain in a cup.

After who knew how long, the three sat shoulder to shoulder on a bench. “I’m dying…” Gu Wen’s eyes still spun, swirls chasing swirls. Lu Ke’s color had returned a shade. The gold-haired girl tapped her leg like a metronome, checking her phone, waiting for the two fallen generals to revive.

“Xue’er, did you grab those ice-cream coupons?” Lu Ke had heard the announcement through fog. Cold sweetness sounded like the best cure. Even Gu Wen raised a shaky hand in support.

Lu Ke helped Gu Wen up and caught Xiao Qianxue’s small hand, the trio drifting toward the ice-cream shop like leaves on a stream. “Mm, I want a chocolate banana split!” The gold-haired girl pointed at the picture. “Just a sundae for me,” Gu Wen said, wobbling to a sofa. “And add one red-bean shaved ice.” Three coupons slid across the counter; a bill near one-fifty melted to under fifty.

“Looks like we really owe you, Xue’er.” Lu Ke turned, smiling at the well-behaved girl beside Gu Wen, warmth rising like tea steam.