It had been only a few months since the transfer to Diguan, a fresh banner under a different sky. Over in Tinglan, the earth flipped like a field in a typhoon.

First came Zhaokang’s fall: with Mo Yao’s payments cut, his cash dried up like a riverbed in drought. To survive, he lifted wallets like a rat in the market.

Mo Yao was the same, skulking through alleys like a shadow with a chain. Without his family’s roof, and enslaved by drugs, he hungered for cash like winter for fire.

Because Zhaokang was built like an ox, he soon muscled into Tinglan’s blocks as a protection-fee thug, a storm cloud over doorways. Chongming Yan let it slide, one eye open, one shut.

But Zhaokang wasn’t content; ambition rattled in him like a caged hawk. He quietly rallied the scraps of Mo Yao’s crew and charged Chongming Yan head-on like a moth to a flame.

He lost, as surely as frost melts under noon sun. In an instant, he hit zero income, a tossed can in the gutter of the city.

He lived off what others threw away, picking through trash like a crow on a bleak branch. But the story didn’t end; the wind kept turning the pages.

With Nana Toki transferred to Diguan, the heroine’s notebook became useless to Chen Yiyi, a talisman that had lost its spirit. She let it slip like a leaf from the hand.

One day, Zhaokang found Chen Yiyi’s notebook, black as a storm pool, and learned its secret like a thief lifting a curtain. He grinned as if he’d netted a fat carp.

Nana’s transfer opened doors for Chen Yiyi like spring unlocking frozen locks. She and Chongming Yan made it official and moved in together, a pair under one roof.

When Zhaokang asked Chen Yiyi out, she refused, a shutter banging against cold wind. Then he hinted at the black notebook, a snake in the grass, and she was forced to meet.

If Chongming Yan learned of the past, her days would crack like thin ice. So at a bar event, she feigned illness and slipped away like a shadow at dusk.

She was no longer the pure white lotus from before; she wore a wine-red dress, the color of twilight plum. Bar to bar with Chongming Yan, she carried a worldly glow like rouge on snow.

When Zhaokang saw her, desire flared like a match in dry straw. Years of prison, no women in sight, and hunger clung to him like cold.

His plan shifted from simple cash to cash and flesh, two hooks in one line. In a narrow back-alley, he forced himself on her like a wolf in the reeds.

With that and the black notebook, he bound her with twin chains, iron and ink. He squeezed regular payments from her, each transfer like a bloodletting.

Chen Yiyi never imagined Zhaokang could be such scum, a stain on the street. But the die had been cast; the board froze like stone.

She had no choice but obedience, a reed bending in relentless wind. Her softness sped his cruelty like oil feeding flame.

He even demanded she go home with him to sleep, a night bird dragged to a snare. Pitiful Chen Yiyi, run ragged in bars by Chongming Yan, still trudged to Zhaokang’s cramped rental.

A few square meters, damp and peeling like damp bark, and she was made to satisfy him, a moon pressed into mud. The city lights blinked, and she had nowhere to hide.

The next time Nana Toki saw Chen Yiyi, it was the eve of the college entrance exam, a blade poised on silk. She and Yuzuki were heading home, passing through Black Street like two sparrows skimming dusk.

They spotted Chen Yiyi ahead, locked in a money quarrel with a burly, stubbled man, a storm cloud over a lamppost. Voices clashed like tin in the wind.

“You took my money and messed around with other women, like a mutt in heat! Zhaokang, do you even have a shred of humanity?”

“Who I’m with is none of your business, you rotten slut, like trash blowing in the alley!”

“You… you… I’ll fight you!” She lunged, fingers clawing for his face like a cornered cat.

Was she any match for Zhaokang, a boulder under a trickle? One slap cracked the air—snap—and her world spun like a broken compass.

He ignored her screams, yanked her long hair like pulling weeds, and dragged her into an alley, spitting filth like a gutter bursting. His curses splattered like mud.

“Keep yapping and yapping—today I’ll teach you a lesson, or the sky can fall!” His voice was a rusted saw on bone.

Onlookers clustered like crows, pointing and buzzing. Fingers rose like reeds in a marsh, and gossip spread like smoke.

“Look, isn’t that Chen Yiyi from Tinglan High?” A whisper slithered along the curb.

“Hey, isn’t she Chongming Yan’s woman? Why’s she tangled with that filthy brute?” Curiosity gleamed like fish eyes.

“Do you need to ask? She must’ve cheated. The Tinglan boss got cuckolded.” Laughter rattled like empty cans.

Who started it, no one knew; the crowd’s words soured like fruit in sun. Taunts piled like stones, and shame burned like a fever.

“Ahhh! Don’t look at me! Don’t look at me!” Chen Yiyi screamed, covering her face like a drowned bird hiding its wings.

From far away, Nana Toki clicked her tongue, amused like a fox watching a village. “What a joke—one transfer, and the heroine’s already cuckolded the Protagonist Lord, smooth as wind on water.”

“Suo Sen, what does ‘putting a hat on’ mean?” Yuzuki asked, backpack snug like a shell, eyes wide as lakes.

“Uh… it’s how one person shows deep love for another,” Nana lied, face calm as winter glass.

“Mm… then I… I also…” Yuzuki blushed, the color of peach petals. “I want to put a hat on Suo Sen, too…”

“No, you don’t.” Nana cut her off before the last petal could fall, voice sharp as a knife on string.

By now, even a log would see it: the cute, rabbit-like girl had feelings for her, soft and skittish as spring rain. The air held a secret like incense.

Nana didn’t dislike girl-love; it was another river under the same moon. But she had no such thought for Yuzuki, a pond she wouldn’t fish.

To her, Yuzuki was like data shaped into a pet, a little sprite in her palm. Aside from keeping, feeding, playing, she had no other use.

Love? Let it pass like a drifting lantern. Nana Toki would rather walk alone under her own moon.

System: “...”

Host, could you act human for once, like a person under the same sky?

I’m not human—are you? Nana rolled her eyes like a cloud pushing past the moon.