"Hi... may I... ask your name?"

Walking shoulder to shoulder down the institute corridor, Yue Liuyi asked softly, her voice careful as brushing dew from a leaf.

"Name?"

"Yes—I'm Yue Liuyi. Nice to meet you!"

"I'm Bernadette. Let's skip the handshake."

The engineer girl refused the offered handshake, cool as a shut gate; she clearly wasn't warmed by Yue Liuyi's self-introduction.

Yue Liuyi didn’t mind; she kept her tone friendly, like a warm breeze.

"Eh? Miss Bernadette’s name... so you’re not a local of Linluo Star?"

"I told you, I was transferred here not long ago!"

"Are you... an exchange student?"

"Close enough."

Bernadette shook her head and let the topic fall, like a leaf slipping off a branch. The two girls walked on; after a stretch of dim corridor, dusk pooled like water, Bernadette stopped before a door.

The door was thick, built of composite metal, a vault-like slab. Beside it, “No Admittance” glared, and the handle sat sealed by an advanced electronic lock, official as a seal on jade.

"This is the core lab. Sis Kiki should be inside."

"Core lab...?"

"I’ll make an exception and let you in once. Don’t touch anything."

Bernadette pressed her palm to the fingerprint lock. As the doors slowly opened, a wash of spring-green spilled into Yue Liuyi’s eyes like a flood of new leaves.

It was a greenhouse. Plastic racks crowded with potted plants; winding branches unfurled green blades; a blue ceiling hung with daylight lamps cast a second sky, brighter than outside.

But inside was quiet, a still pond—no one at all.

"Eh? Sis Kiki... did she head out?"

Bernadette paced around several times, searching like a sparrow through shrubs, but she saw no sign of that gentle, mature sister.

"Is this... where Sis Kiki works?"

"Mm. Sis Kiki usually stays here. She must’ve gone out for something... Come back another day."

"But... but..."

She stood at the entrance like a still reed, studying the greenhouse.

The room wasn’t large, maybe a few hundred square meters; no windows opened to the world, and light came only from the lamps above, suns caught in cages.

Everywhere, varieties of potted plants—the place felt like a library made of leaves, shelves of living pages.

Such an environment should feel lovely and comfortable, like spring soaking into bone.

Yet a fine thread of wrongness tugged at Yue Liuyi, like a cold draft under a door.

"May I take a look?"

"You can. Don’t touch anything. These are valuable samples; break one and you’ll pay."

"Okay..."

She began to observe, moving like a cat reading tracks, then stopped behind the door.

"Um... may I ask. Does this greenhouse have only one entrance?"

"Why ask that? A place this important has one door, to prevent sabotage."

"Huh? Then... that’s a bit strange."

Her gaze settled on the lower corner of the door, where a few leaves leaned and fine dust hugged the threshold like sand after a receding wave.

In a greenhouse, leaves and loose soil are normal, shed scales of a garden.

But the trail made her more doubtful, a burr under the skin.

(Someone just swept this floor. But the leaves and dust cling tight to the door corner, a path drawn by us pushing the door.)

(Was it Sis Kiki who cleaned? But she isn’t careless like that.)

She straightened and looked over the plants again, her attention moving like wind through a grove.

As the World Tree Maiden, Yue Liuyi could resonate with plants without complex spells, roots whispering under earth.

But here, the plants stayed silent to her, especially one deep in the room that pricked instinct like a thorn.

It bore a pale red fruit; she’d never seen this type in any book—shaped a bit like firethorn, but with only one fruit, much larger.

Curious, Yue Liuyi cast a probing spell across it, a thin thread of light laid on the berry.

"What... what are you doing?"

"Huh?"

The shock sprang up without warning, like a trap snapping in fresh snow.

As her magic touched the red fruit, the greenhouse floor began to tremble, a sleeping beast turning in the soil.

"I told you not to touch anything!!!!"

Bernadette grabbed Yue Liuyi’s hand, but it was too late; the tremor swelled, earthquake-strong.

"Huh? I—I didn’t do anything!"

"Damn it, is this an earthquake?"

As the shaking worsened, Bernadette turned to bolt for the door, but the entrance swung shut on its own like an eyelid.

"Huh? What is going on with this room!"

Panicked, Bernadette darted to the side, but her sleeve was caught by Yue Liuyi, a reed catching a dart.

"Wait, Miss Bernadette!"

Calm settled in Yue Liuyi’s voice like water in a bowl.

Two reasons steadied her, simple and clear.

First: if it’s an earthquake, rushing out risks falling debris; better to stay calm, like standing under a sturdy tree in hail.

Second:

This shouldn’t be an earthquake—the rhythm felt man-made, gears turning under earth.

The greenhouse floor was rising, slowly, like a stage lifted by hidden roots.

From the black shadow, a stairway appeared, winding down like a path of roots unfurling into the deep.