The office quarter sat in the heart of Linelor City, quiet as a stone in a river. Foot traffic still ebbed and flowed, unlike the Winterwood District’s hush.
The pharmacy Yue Liuyi visited mirrored that rhythm, tucked on the first floor of Linelor Central Hospital. The lobby seats swelled like a sea at high tide.
Cough, cough!
Waaa!
Infants wailed and patients murmured all around. But coughs rose the most, like dry leaves rattling in wind. In a polluted city, lungs fray like wet paper. Respiratory illness is the daily burden for Dreamwood Star’s residents.
But Dongfang Chen wasn’t here to register or wait. Impatience pricked like sand under his skin, and he slid through the queue to the pharmacy door.
“Please show your ID!”
A guard with a charge rifle stood at the entrance, a thunderhead ready to scare off trouble.
“Here’s my identification and the purchase voucher.”
“Mm. Go in.”
After checking Dongfang Chen’s papers, the guard waved him through, like a gate opening with a clank.
Compared to the shabby outskirts, the pharmacy felt upscale, bright as polished jade. Medicines sat sorted in bulletproof glass cases, fish in clear tanks you couldn’t touch. You had to note the numbers, then settle everything at the counter, coins clinking like rain.
“Medical bandages, amoxicillin, spiramycin, aspirin…” He muttered the list like tallying supplies before a storm.
“Your total is 836 yuan.” The nurse at the counter spoke with a porcelain-calm face, eyes flat as still water.
“So… that’s pricey!”
“You don’t have insurance right now, so it’s full price.”
“Uh… so expensive…”
He felt a pinch bloom in his chest before his fingers opened his wallet. About a thousand sat there, a thin stack like autumn leaves. Spending it here would strip him bare; food would be out of reach, hunger like a stray dog waiting.
While he hesitated, a girl’s voice brushed his back like a breeze.
“Sir, use my insurance. I won’t exhaust my limit this year.”
“Huh?”
He turned. Shoulder-length brown hair framed a girl in a pale-yellow dress, sunlight caught in cloth.
Her features were textbook neat—no Dixue-like ethereal chill, yet flawless, bright teeth and clear eyes. Her gaze was a warm brown, water-glossed; ordinary at a glance, yet it tugged at him with déjà vu, like a familiar path after rain.
She froze too, insurance card raised like a tiny flag. Her eyes widened; she studied him, then cupped her mouth as a soft shock broke free.
“Dongfang Chen!?”
“Eh? How do you know my name!?”
“I’m Zixin! You don’t remember me?”
“Wait—class rep?”
Dongfang Chen stood rooted, surprise blooming like a firework.
…
…
…
After paying for the medicine, Dongfang Chen and Zixin walked out shoulder to shoulder, their shadows twin lines on the floor.
“By the way, how’d the class rep end up back on Dreamwood Star? I thought you moved away with your parents long ago.”
“That’s the embarrassing part.” Her tone stayed light, breeze over grass. “My father’s business collapsed. The new house got mortgaged away. We had to move back.”
It was a sad string of words, yet no sorrow marked the brown-haired girl’s face, as if clouds refused to gather.
“Ah—sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s fine. Maybe it was fated.” She looked ahead, calm as moonlight. “I was the class rep, yet I left by transferring. Perhaps this is the return I deserve.”
“You can’t say that! You helped our classmates plenty; that’s not abandoning anything.”
“Help, hmm… I don’t see it that way. Let’s drop it.” She tilted her head, curiosity bright as a lantern. “What about you, Dongfang Chen? I remember you planned to stay.” “How’d you forget to renew your insurance card?”
“Honestly—” A sheepish heat rose before the words. “I haven’t been on Dreamwood Star these years. I became an adventurer and went to other planets.”
“An… adventurer?”
Zixin blinked, surprise opening like a door onto starlight.
“Yeah. A speculator type.” He shrugged, sand-salt humor in his voice. “Go wherever money’s good, take guild commissions, resell local specialties.”
“Pfft—haha!”
Her laughter folded her in half, hand to stomach, a bell ringing bright.
“Hah?”
“Didn’t think the smart Dongfang Chen would do that! Lol—or maybe that fits you, too.”
“Uh…”
She laughed for a while, then let it drift away, smile smoothing like calm water. “No more teasing. These years must’ve been rough. If you don’t mind, let me treat you to dinner.”
“Uh, I’m not that broke… just tight for the moment… yeah…”
He wanted to sound steady, but truth nipped at his heel. On the road he’d earned enough, yet the stash got seized—along with the money he’d mooched off LittleSnow—frozen like fish under ice.
“I already saw your wallet balance!” Her grin flashed like citrus. “Don’t be shy with an old classmate.”
“Caught red-handed, huh… I’ll just accept the class rep’s kindness.” He smiled, conceding the pinch. “But don’t treat me today. I’ve got a patient at home to care for. I need to hurry back.”
“An adventuring partner?”
“Sort of…?”
“That’s great! It feels like a scene from a story.”
Sparkles lit Zixin’s eyes, little stars on lacquer.
“It’s not that dramatic.”
“In that case, another day.” She waved, promise soft as silk. “How about spicy crawfish? The same place we went for our class dinner.”
“Hah? I thought you were broke, class rep. How are you still so flush?”
He swallowed hard, throat tight like a cord, trying not to sound needy.
