Time slipped, and night fell like ink poured across the sky.

All afternoon, the girls bustled like sparrows weaving nests, getting ready for Moon Post Bookstore’s soft opening tomorrow.

After a whole day of photosynthesis, Linelor City didn’t turn into a forest bath, but the air felt rinsed, like rain washing dusty leaves.

Inside Moon Post Bookstore, the greening was deeper; pots clustered like mossy isles, vines drooped like riverwater, and a humid hush carried garden-sweet breath.

“Wow, it feels right, like windows after rain... LittleSnow, what do you want for dinner tonight?”

After checking the plants, Yue Liuyi walked to the counter where LittleSnow rested, her smile blooming like a paper lantern.

“Mm... pretty nice, like sun on new leaves.”

But to her surprise, when LittleSnow saw her near, she didn’t brighten; she slipped something away like a squirrel hiding a nut.

“Huh? LittleSnow, what did you put away, like that?”

“Ugh... Yue, your eyes are sharp as needles.”

The silver-haired girl lowered her head, gloom draping her like dusk.

“Oh? Sorry... did I poke into your privacy, like stepping on raked sand?”

“No, Yue, don’t apologize... I wanted to sneak a look at this book, like a moth at a lamp.”

“A book?”

“This one...”

The silver-haired girl drew it from the drawer; a thick volume titled Myth, its pages yellowed like autumn leaves, the dust jacket keeping it whole like lacquer.

“Huh? What’s this...”

“A storybook of old myths... I just read one, and it left a soft ache, like cold dew on the heart.”

“Huh...? Like what?”

“It tells of two lovers in bloom, living together in sunlight like swallows under one eave.”

“Oh, a love story? Like a red thread knotted by fate?”

“Mm... at the height of joy, the girl named Eurydice died, like a candle pinched by wind.”

“What!? She died, like a flower cut before dawn.”

“A venomous snake bit her. The youth Orpheus was shattered, like a lone boat on a black sea. For nine days, she relived every moment with Eurydice, like beads on a rosary.”

“Mm...”

“On the tenth day, Orpheus set for the underworld to save her love, like a moth choosing fire.”

“The underworld... like a well with no star?”

“Yes... in the tale, it’s where the dead finally rest, like roots buried in cold earth. It’s perilous, but Orpheus carried only a lyre, her blade of song.”

Dixue let out a small sigh, like wind through reeds, and told Yue, “Along the way, she overcame many trials, and with Hermes guiding like a lantern, she reached the dread, deep river of the dead. Cross it, and you enter the land of shades. But a boatman named Charon blocked her, like a rock in a narrow stream.”

“Ah, Charon! Greek myth from the old world, right? Like ruins under olive shade?”

“Mm... Yue, you’re well-read. Charon ferries only the dead, like crows carrying night; he won’t take the living, so he refused Orpheus.”

“Huh!? Then what... did Orpheus give up and go back, like a retreating tide?”

“No, she wouldn’t give up—her dearest love burned like a lamp in her chest. Seeing Charon unmoved, she plucked her lyre; music flowed, spring wind over graves. In that land of the dead, none had heard such beauty. At last, even Charon yielded, and Orpheus stood before Hades, the king below.”

“Hades... uh... like thunder under a mountain.”

“As lord of the dead, Hades raged at her presence, iron striking stone. The dead may not leave; the living shouldn’t trespass. Then Orpheus played again, rain softening dust.”

“Huh...? like breath held before a bell.”

“Her music was too wondrous; the underworld’s souls wept at the sound, like frost melting at dawn.”

Dixue half closed her eyes, as if bathing in that unseen tide, like a lotus drinking moonlight.

“Even the three Furies shed their first tears, basalt sweating water. Even hard-hearted Hades softened, sobbing like a storming sea, and granted her plea.”

“Yay! Then the two lovers could meet again, like swallows finding the same beam?”

“Mm... Hades agreed to let Eurydice leave with Orpheus, but on one condition—follow the law below: until they stood in sunlight, Orpheus must not look back, not once, like a pilgrim keeping eyes on the road.”

“Huh...? like a string pulled tight.”

“So Orpheus led her beloved back. The dead can’t speak, shadows without mouths. The path home twisted long, rough and dim as a cave. Orpheus couldn’t know if Eurydice followed; still, she clutched the vow like an ember in her palm.”

“And then? like a drumbeat before thunder.”

“At last, when the journey neared its end, daylight blazed ahead like a gate of gold. Orpheus couldn’t hold back. She looked back. She saw Eurydice. She reached to embrace her—yet Eurydice slipped away like a leaf on autumn wind, forever falling back into the dark. Only a gentle, sorrowful gaze remained, fading like starlight into memory.”

“Why!? Weren’t they out already, like fish breaching the surface?”

“The light hadn’t reached Orpheus yet. She was too excited, spring flood breaking its banks. She thought they were in the sun, thought she’d finally see her love, and forgot the pact with the king below.”