Yekase blew up a swim ring and slipped it on; her hips caught it like a hooked moon, and the ring held fast. Pu Lu watched that willow-slim waist, her eyes narrowing like shutters at dusk.

They asked a staffer for a waterproof map, the paper glistening like fish scales, and started sketching a day’s route like tracing rivers on a mountain.

First, she tested Pu Lu’s mood, letting the question drift like a feather: “Anything you want to do?”

“...Soaking and swimming is enough,” she said, voice quiet as shade under bamboo.

Ah. Her gaze wandered openly toward the direction Ling Yi ran, like a kite tugging its string. She really wanted to go with her.

But if so, Yekase knew the two of them would stay lukewarm forever, stuck like tea gone cold. Ling Yi must’ve tugged her sister away on purpose, leaving these two alone like a cleared table.

Such unnecessary kindness, warm as a coat in spring.

Yekase had often worked with people she knew at a glance would clash, keeping ties trimmed for profit and speed, like pruning a hedge. Against that, Pu Lu’s baseline kindness felt rare as a plum blossom in snow.

“I’m not into intense rides... How about this maze first?” She tapped the map, eyes bright like knife-edges. “A maze built on water—let’s see if it’s good enough to force me to use skill.”

“That’ll be hard...” Pu Lu said, words flat as a pond.

Hm?

Was that praise?

Yekase glanced over, surprised as a bird flushed from reeds, and found Pu Lu turning away with a stiff face like carved wood.

Ling Yi had probably bragged about Yekase’s craft, but saying it aloud meant Pu Lu was trying, like a sprout pushing through soil.

What do I do? That’s... kind of cute, like a kitten hiding behind a curtain.

“Mm, mm...”

The air shifted into another kind of awkward, thick as humid fog.

Even Yekase felt a blush rise like dawn. She folded the map, slid it between her badge and swimsuit fabric like a letter under a door, and strode toward the maze, heels tapping like raindrops.

The entrance was just a big room, door yawning like a mouth, the inside dressed as a beach with sand like warm sugar. A few scattered visitors searched the sand, fingers combing like crabs.

Before she asked, a boy whooped like a gull and raised a green, glassy pebble that glowed like wet jade.

A small door across the room sensed the pebble and opened slowly like a blinking eye; he hustled through like a fish darting upstream.

The others looked up with envy gleaming like fish scales, then bowed their heads and kept searching like patient herons.

“Can’t tail the gate?” Yekase watched the little door close, brows knitting like threads. Rules read: find the green stone. Since when did everyone play this fair?

A helpful girl answered, voice clear as a bell: “Staff said those pebbles are infused with Neptune Energy, so the first person leaves a tag. The gate blocks anyone who tries to force it without the tag.”

Neptune Energy, huh. It was green, yes, but...

Yekase couldn’t hold back a laugh, light as wind chimes.

“What?” Pu Lu was already kneeling, combing sand like raking a zen garden.

“Neptune Energy’s highly radioactive. No one uses that in consumer products unless they want to die broke. Those rocks are painted. The sensor runs on Mind Energy.”

“Just a gimmick, then. The goal stays the same,” Pu Lu said, steady as a stone.

“Mm.”

A crowd picked through the man-made beach like gulls pecking at tide lines. If this was the water maze’s puzzle, it was about as hard as a summer puddle.

But once you knew the trick, there was a shortcut, clean as a deer track. Yekase had tried Mind Energy before; it handled like a stubborn cat, so she quit—maybe that’s what Ling Yi called bad affinity. But sensing a spot was a breeze, like catching the smell of rain.

She found the mark fast, set hands on a millstone-sized rock, and tried to lever it up like a lever—

—And didn’t budge it, not a grain.

Pu Lu watched her squat by the stone, plant her hands, then go red like a steamed shrimp; it took a few heartbeats to realize she’d meant to shove and simply lacked the heft.

Pu Lu moved to the other side, hooked her fingers into a notch like talons, and looked over for a count.

“Right then—three, two, one... lift!”

They heaved together and flipped the boulder aside like a pot lid.

Three green pebbles lay beneath, gleaming like jade fish in a rock pool.

“Nice. Knew it.”

“We’ve got a spare. How do we handle it?”

Pu Lu picked one up, started to hand another to Yekase, then remembered the first-touch tag and drew her hand back like a wave retreating.

“Give it to the girl who tipped us.”

“Works.”

Pu Lu tapped the helpful girl and pointed into the pit, where one last “pass” sat like a sprout in soil.

“Uh!” The girl’s eyes locked on the pebble like a compass needle, but her mouth balked: “No, I can’t accept kindness from strangers for no reason, or I’ll get kidnapped...”

Are you ten?

Yekase coaxed, voice soft as a fan-breeze: “It’s not for no reason. It’s paying you back for the intel.”

“Mm... okay, then it’s fine!”

She bloomed into a grin like sunrise, hurried over, and cupped the stone in both hands like a bird’s egg. The little door sensed the find and opened again; under the slick envy of other gazes, the three queued up and slipped into stage two like fish to deeper water.

“Wanna clear it together?” the girl said, guard dropping like a leaf.

Pu Lu nodded, a quiet reed in wind.

“What are your names?”

Fine to team up—but asking names too? Definitely a kid, bright as a lantern.

Yekase said nothing. She tugged up the white cloth at her chest like lifting a curtain, showing her badge.

“Oh,” the girl said, then mirrored the trick and looked at Pu Lu’s chest. “You’re Yekase. Then you must be Qiu Baili?”

“I’m Pu Lu. And that word’s pronounced ‘Qiubini’—it’s the swimsuit brand, not my name.”

She nodded like carving a note in bamboo, then held out both hands like twin bridges.

“I’m Todo Moka! Came to Twin Towers City from Japan with my parents. We’ve lived here for years.”

Another Japanese who spoke smooth Chinese, fluent as a river. Yekase thought of someone and tossed a pebble-question: “Do you know Akano Soha?”

“Who’s that?”

“No worries. Just asking. Pleased to work with you, Miss Todo.”

Yekase took Todo’s left hand and shook lightly, a leaf touching a stream.

Pu Lu had planned to ignore their playhouse handshake, but Todo kept staring, right hand waving in the air like a flag; she sighed and took it, palm cool as shade.

“Let’s move while the iron’s hot,” she said, voice like flint.

The room held waterwheels and slides like a riverside fair; two doors stood side by side on the far wall like twin mouths, clear as a sign that the maze truly began there.

Then Pu Lu watched in despair as the other two wandered, lazy as ducks on a pond.

Todo fell in love with a man-tall waterwheel, crouching to flick its wooden paddles like dragonfly wings; the supposedly icy, rational Yekase went bigger—she blended right in and shot down a slide like a silver fish.

“...”

Maybe I should dump them here and solo this, she thought, a stone sinking.

“Pu Lu, wanna try?” Yekase called, voice bubbling. “These slides even use water power to push you uphill. Kinda badass!”

Pu Lu was speechless, a reed in wind.

“Woooo—”

She chose the highest enclosed spiral and slid, a comet into a tunnel.

...

...

Hm?

“Where is she?”

No sound—like a drum gone mute. Did the slide eat her?

Feeling something off, Pu Lu approached, wary as a cat. But the tube had a lid like sealed bamboo; she saw nothing but darkness pooling like ink.

What’s this?

A man-eating slide?

“Todo, over here! The slide’s wrong!”

“Huh, huh?” Todo bounced over like a ball. “What happened?”

“I saw Yekase take this slide, and then—”

Pu Lu finally noticed: this red spiral had no outlet on the floor; it ran straight into the ground like a burrowing snake.

“I see... so that’s it,” she murmured, voice cool as stone.

She looked up and spotted the visitors who’d entered before them, vague shapes deep behind the right-hand door like shadows in mist.

“It’s here! Quick, we slide in too!”

“Eh, eh?”

Pu Lu took the steps two at a time, reached the red tube’s mouth. A dozen pinholes along the rim leaked threads of water like dew; with no window, the inside was black as a well, a little scary, a throat of night—

She pinched her nose with her left hand, braced the rim with her right, and jumped in like a stone into a pond.

“Ah... do I have to use this? So dark!” Todo balked, feet tapping like sparrows. But she’d said they’d stick together, so she tucked her legs and sat at the lip, whispering to herself like a charm.

“Not scary... not scary...”

Before she finished twice, the water under her did its job; her balance went, and she slid in stiff as a board, a log on a chute.

“Eeeeeee—”

She clamped her arms over her head, sealing her nose by luck, spinning downward like a leaf in a whirlpool, then hit the pool with a splash like thunder.

“Mm—”

Water wrapped her head like a hood—

Two hands, left and right, hauled her up like hooks.

“Puhah!”

It was Yekase and Pu Lu, already there, solid as pilings.

This room sat underground like a hollow gourd. Blue lamps in a kerosene style glowed on the walls like foxfire, flickering now and then. Water lapped to knee height and murmured like a mountain spring, turning the air cave-cool like mist.

They pulled her up and kept trading notes, words skipping like stones.

“I thought there’d be a hidden path wedged between tubes, but I overthought it.”

“Yeah. The pipe dives straight into the earth—pretty blatant.”

“Maybe that’s mainstream entertainment—like those ‘hardcore’ mystery rooms where anyone who’s read a few novels spots the template in a heartbeat.”

“Did it make you use your skills?”

“Playing dumb takes effort,” Yekase said, scratching her cheek like a cat. “And we’ve already lost sight of everyone.”

“Looks like we passed them,” Pu Lu said, calm as dusk.

“So strong...” Todo stared at their banter like a deer in headlights, stunned into silence.

The three walked with the current like drifting reeds.

After a few dim corners, the scene finally changed—

A dead end, a wall like a sealed dam.

No fork behind, yet a dead end ahead, a riddle like a closed fan.

Yekase didn’t flinch; she clapped lightly, like starting a game. “Okay, round one—do we dive, or is there a mechanism?”

“My bet: an entrance underwater in a corner,” Pu Lu said, steady as bedrock.

“Th-then I’ll bet on a switch to open a door!” Todo said, bright as a bell.

“One vote each. For the record, I’m Team Switch... It’s too dark. We need light to search,” Yekase said, voice practical as rope.

She slipped the silver ring from her hair; her bun fell into a shawl of hair like a waterfall. She slid the ring onto her hand, reached into empty air, and pulled out two mini flashlights like plucking fireflies from night.

Todo’s eyes went round like coins.

Pu Lu stayed cool as deep water; maybe Ling Yi’s endless “navy” praise had inured her—whatever Yekase drew out, it wouldn’t shake her.

“Here, one each.”

“Are these... real flashlights? Do they work? They won’t turn back into leaves, right?” Todo asked, wary as a squirrel.

“I’m not a tanuki!” Yekase huffed, cheeks puffing like a pufferfish.