Here’s your hot coffee, steaming like morning mist—please keep it safe. That’ll be 20 yuan, and we do take payment in magic crystals.

Two orders of omelets, delivered hot and fragrant like sunrise on a griddle.

Sorry, we don’t support delivery. If you need takeout, please contact a runner service, swift as a sparrow on the wind.

Out on the Skyship balcony, the air burned with bustling heat, like a lantern-lit festival. Zero Wei and Ailuna, dressed in maid outfits, tended guests with quick, flowing grace.

The glass wall had been lowered, turning into an open counter like a bridge over a stream, and a dragon-long line of customers coiled across the drizzle-damp meadow.

Why did everyone suddenly open a shop? Weren’t we preparing for the Rainbow Fortress?

The sight stopped Yue Liuyi cold, like frost on fresh leaves.

Mm… Little Yue, I asked Zero Wei to run the counter. Adventure doesn’t stop business; the river carries both boats.

Dixue smiled, hands folded behind her like a folded fan, and hopped lightly to Yue Liuyi’s side like a sparrow to a branch.

Huh? Bu—business…?

Yes. In Dragon Heaven, there’s that mountain-view habit: things sold at scenic spots cost more than in city markets, like moonlight priced above sunlight. If we don’t seize the moment, we lose the harvest.

That’s not a habit; it’s daylight robbery dressed as peach blossoms.

Heh. And Rainbow Valley isn’t like other places. Even small shops are rare as cranes. Forest Fortress won’t open for two days. While the wind is fair, a small shop is a fine sail.

LittleSnow is a born merchant, a fox under snowfall. But these prices are higher than the Sky Voyager! Why are people still buying like tide to shore?

Yue Liuyi looked over the rail. Shoppers swarmed the Skyship like bees to blossom, and no one seemed to mind the coin. Twenty-five for hot coffee, forty for bubble tea, sixty for fried rice, one-fifty for beef ramen—Dawn Goose finished a batch and it vanished like rain on hot stone.

As for the reason… it’s a sad truth, a willow bending in rain.

Sad…?

Mm. Those challenging the Rainbow Secret Realm walk a knife’s edge. Either they return with full packs, or they fall far from home like leaves in a foreign stream. For a last meal, nobody wants regret; they seek the remembered taste like a hearth’s ember.

I—is it really… like that?

Yue Liuyi went still, a lake under passing wind. She’d thought LittleSnow only set high prices, but there was a deeper current beneath the surface.

Yes. Once they head into the Chaos Lands, most haven’t eaten a proper meal in ages, like travelers chewing dry wind. Serving them now fulfills a last wish, a lantern for the road.

Don’t make it sound like everyone’s doomed. But… it’s true, like thunder behind the hills.

With Dixue’s explanation, Yue Liuyi saw why she directed their friends to open a food stall in the Chaos Lands. It wasn’t only coin like grain in a jar.

On the face, they could earn a mountain of money like stacked stones; deeper down, they could talk with adventurers, plant trust like seeds, so future clashes wouldn’t be kill-or-be-killed at first sight, but leave room for words.

Looks like Dixue has a merchant’s map and a general’s compass. She reads hearts and weather like stars. As a companion, she’s calm water—so safe.

If only she’d stop teasing me every sunny minute…

Without noticing, Yue Liuyi found herself in Dixue’s arms again, like a kitten taken up. The silver-haired girl held her hand gently, kneading her palm like soft dough.

All the money we make goes to little dresses for Little Yue, fluttering like petals.

Ugh…

Yue Liuyi sighed, a breeze through bamboo, and let resistance fall. Two together, and Dixue always hugs her like a warm quilt.

Maybe that’s progress. She was used to Dixue’s touch now, no longer blushing like a sunset at first contact.

Meanwhile, the Skyship’s food stall ran like a stoked forge. The pantry still brimmed like granaries, and at the Elven Forest market, the girls stocked up like squirrels before winter.

Beyond the classics, Xiang Xiaoyan and San Hua Zhi turned griddles into spring gardens, making sakura pancakes with quick wrists.

The perfume of blossoms drifted out of the kitchen, a pink haze spilling through the room, then slipped through the balcony windows like a soft stream to the waiting adventurers.

Elven specialty—sakura crêpes. One for 30, three for 100, sweet as dawn dew.

Smells amazing. I’ll take three, like petals in a fan!

Me too—thirty of them, a whole grove of bloom!

…

Fresh pancakes vanished like birds startled into flight.

That’s all for this afternoon. Come back tonight; we’ll have pizza and baozi, moons and pillows on plates.

What a pity, like a kite cut loose…

I just reached the front, like a fisherman seeing the shoal!

Sorry, the first few can take numbers. Come back and skip the line, like stepping stones across a stream.

Zero Wei gave the crowd an apologetic wave, like a willow branch in rain, and moved to close the Skyship’s open balcony.

Wait!

An orange-haired girl with a regal stride cut through the crowd like a tiger through reeds and stepped to the front.

She wore a pale orange Eastern long dress, silk clinging like riverlight to her strong lines. Six wide, diamond panels with gold trim swayed to her ankles like gilded leaves. Through their slits, you glimpsed long legs like slim bamboo.

Adventurers bristled, ready to bark, but one look at the medal on her chest froze tongues like winter.

Do you sell Chinese food? My prince wants jiaozi—dumplings shaped like crescent moons. Make a serving, now!

Uh? Sorry, miss, we’re closed like shutters in rain. And… we aren’t making jiaozi at the moment.

Zero Wei frowned slightly, a cat sniffing a strange scent. The badge felt familiar, a candle seen once, but the memory wouldn’t lift its face.

Then make them now. This is an order from the Dragon Heaven royal house, a thunderclap under clear sky!

D—Dragon Heaven’s royal house!?

Zero Wei remembered. That shining dragon emblem was worn only by Dragon Heaven’s royals and their close attendants, scales bright as sunrise.

Zero Wei, step back. I’ll take it from here.

Dawn Goose, washing cookware, felt the storm and nodded, face set like a blade, ready to negotiate.

Mm!

Wait, Xiaoyan!

Dixue darted forward and caught the purple-haired girl, like silk tying a kite string. Dawn Goose didn’t spar with words. If she barged out, the pot would boil over.

What is it, Dixue!?

Let me handle her. You go with Little Zhi and prep ingredients, smooth as grinding rice.

Dixue, are you going to do what you did at Imperial Capital University? This is the Chaos Lands. We show power to nobles, like thunder over the palace. And—

And restaurants serve guests, like tea poured for all. Rich guests must be handled with steady hands. Leave this one to me.

Huh?

That’s that. Go wash up, like rain over stones.

She nudged the purple-haired girl kitchen-ward, gentle and firm like a shepherd with a goat.

What are you doing! Are you making jiaozi or not?

The orange-haired girl waited at the counter, tapping her hips like a clock, impatience billowing like summer steam.

Sorry to keep you waiting, like moonlight pausing at the clouds.

The silver-haired girl stepped up with open grace, a hostess beneath plum blossoms. Jiaozi takes many steps, like weaving reeds into a raft. Please wait here. We’ll make them, and you can take them away.

Mm… that sounds proper, like a decree written straight.

The orange-haired girl sat in the dining room, shoulders easing like snow melting.

Outside, adventurers saw the royal attendant, the balcony window closing like eyelids. They shook their heads and backed away, not daring to peck at this hornet’s nest.

In the kitchen, Dawn Goose fumed till sparks flew, a volcano under a lid. She wanted to storm the dining room and teach the guard manners with her fists, thunder on the table.

But Yue Liuyi knew LittleSnow’s move had a hidden plan, a chesspiece sliding under silk. She wondered what the ice-bright girl was plotting, stars reflected in a winter river.

Dear guest, jiaozi needs many steps. It’ll take at least forty minutes, like timing rice with a clepsydra.

That… that long?

Facing Dixue, the orange-haired girl’s voice stumbled like a foal on its first hill, for reasons she couldn’t name.

Mm. While you wait, try our specialty—Snowflake Cake, soft as drift on pine.

Snowflake… cake?

Yes. It’s made with cream, white chocolate, and snow blossoms, sweet as winter sunlight. It tastes like quiet happiness.

Th—then… one portion, like a slice of moon.

Good. Maria, one Snowflake Cake, please—swift as a gull.

Got it!

The Skyship’s service ran on a 16G local wifi net, fast as lightning across rooms. Dixue spoke into her phone, and the noble lady far away caught the message like a falling leaf, starting the cake.

Soon, Zero Wei came tottering with careful steps, carrying a grand cake like a lacquered treasure.

Oh!

Seeing the cake, the orange-haired girl’s eyes widened like pools under starlight.

It was impossibly beautiful, like frost traced by an artist. Cream blended almonds and petals together, like snowmelt over a spring creek, lush and layered. As your gaze moved, depth shifted like hills under mist.

Snowflake Cake. Please enjoy, like tea under plum.

!!!!

When Zero Wei set it down, the girl couldn’t help herself. She took knife and fork, and began to eat, swift as a swallow.

She wolfed it down, yet it wasn’t crude. It was a hungry colt on the grassland, grace and appetite mingling like music and rain. Her fine features and the cake lit each other, pleasing as garden light, making everyone’s stomachs sing.

In moments, that big cake vanished like a rainbow after rain.

Whew. So good, like a warm quilt on a cold night.

Girls of every kind love sweets, it seems, like bees love blossoms. The orange-haired girl reclined with a blissful face, floating like clouds.

The jiaozi are underway. They’ll be out soon. Please settle the bill first, like tying a knot before sailing. That’s 30 magic crystals.

Th—thirty… what!?

That’s cake plus jiaozi. Thirty magic crystals is standard, like market price under the sun.

Eating here… you still have to pay? Like a toll on a bridge?

Thump.

Dawn Goose tapped the table without thinking, anger flaring like a match. To her, this orange-haired girl was a bully eating for free, waving a badge instead of coin.

Luckily, Yue Liuyi and San Hua Zhi stopped Dawn Goose, hands like gentle reins. Otherwise she’d grab a kitchen knife and charge like a storm.

Wait, Senior Dawn Goose. LittleSnow is running a plan, like embroidery on silk.

A plan?

Mm. Look there, like watching clouds break.

In the dining room, the wind shifted, a new turn in the reeds.

P—pay…?

The orange-haired girl glanced at Dixue, patted her dress like searching through fog, and wore an awkward look, a crane caught in shallow water.

Dear guest, did you not bring money? Even a royal attendant pays, like everyone under the same moon.

I… didn’t bring any, like an empty pouch.

Sigh. Then you’ll have to work it off, like paying with sweat.

W—work…?

"Yeah, like washing dishes and stuff. Do it well, and you get room and board—a warm roof and hot meals, day after day."

"Huh? But I still have Your Highness’s takeout—the bag’s still steaming like a little cloud... uh..."

"Didn’t Your Highness already eat your fill? The cake was pretty good, right—soft as a morning cloud, Sixth Princess?"