Liuyi... can I ask you something?

Huh? About what?

The girls paused by the river, like cranes resting on a sandbar.

There used to be a small stone bridge, a spine of rock over the water; now only a broken rib reaches toward the far bank.

Miss Liuyi, you grew up on Dreamwood Star, right?

Mm... that’s not wrong.

Then... how do you view outside companies?

Outside companies?

When Yue Liuyi was little, she crossed here often, this bridge like a daily stepping stone.

The concrete was rough as sandpaper, yet in wind and rain it stood stubborn, carrying people over like a steady back.

Honestly... I don’t resent outside companies. Humans evolve because of change, don’t we?

Change?

Yeah. We left the forest, and apes’ hands grew clever. We crossed mountains and rivers, and civilization took shape like terraces on a hillside. If we stand still, nothing grows.

But that’s not true progress. It’s repetition, like grinding sand to dust.

Teng Ying brushed the stone pier. If humans built this bridge, humans also broke it, like wind that both carries and erodes.

Years of use, loads past tolerance—this bridge ended as ruin, like most structures in Winterwood District.

It wasn’t pointless! This bridge spared people trouble, like a shortcut carved in stone.

But the result is still futile. Their work lies abandoned, like shells left by a retreating tide.

The green-haired girl tilted her head and searched the banks. On both sides, forsaken houses stood like hollow gourds; people once labored here, and now those frames serve no one.

People came to this planet for resources, like prospectors chasing glitter. When the vein ends, they leave. We chew like borers, devouring the few riches left, until the universe runs dry.

Mm... but life has to grow. Growth burns fuel; it’s inevitable. People make mistakes, but if we correct them, it’s still progress.

What if the mistake can’t be undone?

Huh?

The World Tree Maiden of this planet is dead. And they still hunt for a newborn World Tree Maiden.

Teng Ying reached down and picked up a snapped stalk, like lifting a broken flute.

Miss Liuyi, you probably don’t know what a World Tree Maiden is, do you?

I... uh...

A World Tree Maiden is a miracle born from life. She’s the purest, the dearest, the most remarkable being. On this planet, she’s rarer still, like dew on iron.

Teng Ying studied the stalk with grave eyes, as if reading a prayer from straw.

A-actually, a World Tree Maiden isn’t that great. And she’s definitely not all that pure...

Even if I wronged you earlier, I won’t let you slander a World Tree Maiden!

Teng Ying snapped her gaze up at Yue Liuyi, teeth clenched, like a mortal enemy across a burning line.

Huh? Wait—

Hmph! I thought you were different. Turns out you’re the same short-term profit-chasers.

I— I’m sorry!

Hmph! Suit yourself!

She spun on her heel and left without a backward look, like a hawk cutting away from a cliff.

Yue Liuyi stood stunned, alone, like a lantern left in daylight.

Her feelings tangled like reeds, and Yue Liuyi walked back to the bookstore.

Because, from any angle, the World Tree Maiden of Dreamwood Star isn’t great at all.

If she acted under a banner of saving the world, that would be flattering herself, like painting gold on brass.

Yue Liuyi does try to help Dreamwood Star. But when it clashes with her own comfort, she chooses herself, like a cat choosing a warm patch.

When she’s lazy, she just wants to sprawl on the bed, reading comics or novels, not moving at all—let alone planting forests to save the world.

Not just unheroic—hardly pure, either.

Cute girls make Yue Liuyi happy. Sometimes the blue-haired girl wants to do... fun things with them, like thoughts drifting into honey.

Mm! I really am a boy—just wearing the skin of a World Tree Maiden.

She eased the bookstore door open, heart like a guilty cat. She planned to apologize to Teng Ying. If that failed, she’d have to reveal herself.

But that might shatter Teng Ying’s expectations, making the mess worse, like breaking a jar to catch a fly.

Liuyi—sis?

Huh? Lidashi?

As Yue Liuyi pushed the door, a little boy’s silhouette peeked from behind the shelves, like a sparrow in reeds.

Um, about earlier, sis...

Sorry... it was my fault. I said things that made Teng Ying angry, like tossing a spark into dry grass.

N-no, that’s not it! Sis is a bit awkward. What she says isn’t always what she means.

Really?

He laughed, a clumsy grin, like a puppy wagging too hard. I don’t really get the details, but I think she’s not truly mad.

Mm... but the misunderstanding’s there. If I can, I want to apologize to Miss Teng Ying.

Whoa! Don’t! If you apologize now, it’ll make everything worse, like stirring mud in a pond.

Worse?

Yeah! Lidashi nodded, a little drumbeat. If you apologize, she might react even harder. She might dislike you more.

Then what should I do?

Right now, just leave her be, like letting a storm pass.

Are you sure?

Uh-huh! I’ve lived with Teng Ying for two years!

Mm... got it.

She reached out and ruffled Lidashi’s hair, like smoothing grass after wind.

The radio soon carried news: the Teng Assets headquarters had exploded, the voice like thunder in a tin box.

Though Xinke District isn’t under the Council’s jurisdiction—it’s an autonomous district—the Lindream Council’s security corps arrived first, like wolves racing to a fire.

Smoke boiled. Chaos sprawled. A fierce blaze fed on the collapsed ruins. The fallen lay there, faces charred, bodies crumpled like scorched paper.

Most were gangsters and international mercenaries; the rest were mid-level staff from the Welfare Alliance, scattered like broken badges.

The blast hit hard, but the shock stayed mostly within the Teng building. Nearby structures and farther residences took little damage, like ripples dying at the shore.

Linluo Central Hospital has sent rescue teams. Further reports will need investigation, like sifting ash for embers.