Lian pushed the door open, and a white room flooded her eyes like fresh snow at noon.

Nothing decorated it; it was a blank scroll, pure white from wall to wall.

Stay here too long, and the white would press like winter fog on the chest.

Yet after a careful sweep, Lian saw it wasn’t empty.

In the very center sat a rectangular box, abrupt as a lone stone in a riverbed.

Matchbox-shaped, square and tidy, bleached to match the walls.

White on white, it hid like a snow rabbit in a snowfield; no wonder she missed it.

Whoever designed this deserves a beating; white on white, a ghostly “genius” palette.

She sighed inside, then her honest feet carried her to the box like a moth to a lantern.

Buzz!

That tugging current returned, a river under her skin pulling at her bones.

She knew the urge at the door came from whatever slept inside this box.

So she didn’t hesitate; she let her gaze comb the box like wind over grass.

Staaare—

Big-eyed loli mode engaged; find-the-difference, microscope mind, predator gaze.

Anything “unscientific” would be caught like dust motes in a sunbeam.

Mmm... I give up.

No matter how she looked, it stayed pure white, a saintly blank, clean as rice paper.

Nothing strange, no hidden thorns; what, is this box some divine relic?

Her brain painted a scene: a tiny loli hauling a box longer than herself.

She sat on a mountain of bodies like a cold moon over a battlefield.

Her face wore that long-life boredom of having no worthy foes.

She murmured, disappointed and amused, “The enemy is shamed; I shall strip him...”

Ugh... so weird, so lacking in pressure; is the box really meant to be wielded like that?

Thankfully the heavens aren’t that cruel.

As if nudged by a cosmic mind, Ling’s fingertip skimmed a corner.

A bumpy texture rose like tiny dunes under her skin.

She leaned in, shifted angles, hunted shadows and light, until the raised lines resolved.

When Lian finally saw it, her heart rocked like a struck bell.

Because those bumps were just three ordinary characters—Yufan Ling.

Why is that name carved here?

No—calm down; the world holds many names, and coincidences drift like leaves.

Someone sharing mine isn’t rare; the gate earlier showed a loli who looked like me.

So it’s not strange, mm, not strange.

Not strange my ass—it's strange any way you slice it!

Lian would bet that once she opened this, there was a fifty-percent chance.

A loli exactly like her would be lying inside, pale as milk.

And the other fifty percent?

Blow the place to kingdom come so nobody ever knows, right?

Ever heard of Schrödinger’s cat?

If you don’t open it, you don’t know if a loli named Yufan Ling exists in there.

Mm, that’s right—genius.

Ahem. Jokes over.

Lian still stepped in and opened the box.

A slash of gold flashed, honor spilling like sunlight through water.

This—this is! A golden legend!

Ah... got you. No, it opened normally.

Inside lay a loli, ordinary and quiet.

She looked ninety percent like Lian, with perhaps that extra centimeter of height as the ten.

Even confused, when Lian touched the body, the tugging river stopped, flat as glass.

That told her this body was the source that called her.

But what was she supposed to do with it?

Self-mating?

Nope. Drop that shameless thought now.

Yeah, it’s a little lewd—but I already raised the flag.

Her questions barely lined up before the house started to shake.

Clearly, she’d triggered the classic protagonist curse.

Wherever I go, things collapse.

Doubts or not, Lian shut her mouth, scooped up the body, and ran.

She borrowed mana; speed bloomed like wind in her calves.

This time she had a single goal—get out.

So the return took less time than the arrival.

In under a few minutes, she burst outside.

As soon as she cleared the door, the house behind her went boom.

It didn’t just collapse; the ruins turned to dust, drifting like ash into the sky.

A building that big dissolving kicked up waves of silver light; strangely beautiful.

All right, all right; the knots are tied—the threads cut—let’s head out.

With the house gone, the maze unraveled like thread.

Lian walked straight back to the entrance, to the spot where she had dropped.

A swirl of vertigo poured into her skull like cold water.

Her world snuffed like a candle; she blacked out.

…Damn it!

Another sudden transfer—do you not know it scrambles a girl’s brain?

The loli howled at the sky, then lifted the body that had been pinning her like a fallen tree.

How am I supposed to explain this?

Say I found my long-lost sister wandering?

Who would buy that?

Finding a loli in a wild, empty stretch screams kidnapper vibes.

Call her my No. 10032 clone?

Forget it; they’d chase me for explanations.

Honestly, Lian monologuing out here looks as dumb as a goose.

Especially while hugging a loli who looks just like her.

It’s that weird blend—dumb-cute.

In the end, like giving up on fate, Lian tossed the body aside.

She sprawled on the ground like a half-salted fish left on a warm rock.

I give up; my brain’s a dropped teacup.

How am I supposed to find a reasonable reason for a thing that pops out of nowhere?

She poked the small cheek with a finger, knowing there’d be no reply, yet still peeved, like tapping a drum that won’t sound.

If you really want me to take you along, give me a way—fast.

Don’t always make me think for you.

Otherwise I leave you here to kick off a doujin plot.

As if it heard Ling’s call, the body flared into light.

It settled on Lian’s right wrist as a golden butterfly tattoo.

I’m sorry! I wronged you!

Lian bowed her forehead against her right wrist, hard, like knocking on a temple bell.

Yes, it looked dumb.

Problem solved at last; Lian’s mood rose like dawn.

She turned and headed back to Alicia’s spot.

Only... why did it feel like she’d forgotten something?

Meh—if I don’t remember it, it probably wasn’t important.