After she drifted back to the squad like a leaf on the wind, Xuewei gave everyone a brisk summary of the probe, then drew a couple aside for skill coaching, and the lesson folded like twilight.
After class, Xuewei didn’t come for me; she slipped alone toward her office, a lone shadow behind paper screens.
What just happened? My thoughts swirled like mist over a cold river.
In that clash, Xuewei felt a familiar warmth, like ember under ash; this girl might be her brother’s… adopted daughter.
During the exchange, Ling Xuewei cut away her old guess like pruning a branch; reincarnation didn’t fit, and she knew it like clear frost.
Only her brother knew the flaw in that move, a thread sewn under silk; none she’d faced in years had seen through her.
And why would this girl come to the city to seek his old address, like a migratory bird homing to a past nest?
Someone must have sent her, even to this academy, like a tide pushing a small boat.
Tsk, if that’s true, why didn’t my brother find me, like rain seeking thirsty soil? Did a storm catch him?
Maybe I can trail him through this girl, like footprints across fresh snow.
What? She might be his daughter? Hahaha, that’s clouds laughing at mountains— how could my brother…
Hahaha, a daughter— hahaha— ha… sob… the laugh tore like paper in rain.
No, I’d never believe it, even with a blade at my throat; if he stayed away these years because of me, then what was I living for?
What was I holding onto, like a lantern in wind… what was it?
Ling Xuewei crouched in a corner like a small animal in brush, head bowed, and wept in soft rain.
Her fingers clutched a necklace like a lifeline thrown across a dark river.
Midnight came, thick as ink across the windows.
My stomach grumbled like a restless drum; sleep wouldn’t come, like a shy moon behind clouds.
Too much happened today; my heart buzzed like summer cicadas. Should I find a time to talk to Xuewei?
Speaking of which, Dreamsound hasn’t contacted me since I left home, like a wind that forgot the path.
She said she couldn’t bear to part; what sweet talk, like sugar that melts too fast— liar.
If you really care, send food, like a warm bun at dawn; I’m starving here.
I sat on the bed, palms cupping my belly like holding a small warm jar, and complained to the dark.
The snacks I bought last time are gone, like crumbs swept by a breeze; I’ll have to wait till after class tomorrow to buy more.
Next time I can’t let Lan’er drag me off like a kite on a gust; I need a way to slip out and grab food.
Ow! While I was busy grumbling, something pebble-small thumped my head, like hail tapping a roof.
What the heck? That dirty bird dared throw a stone at me, like a mischievous sparrow!
Just wait— once I change, I’m eating grilled wings, smoke curling like evening clouds.
Tch, is that bird eavesdropping? Fine, fly fast like an arrow. But what is this thing?
I picked up the “little stone,” smooth as moonlit jade, and found it wasn’t stone at all.
It was a spatial spirit jade wrapped in paper, like a secret sealed under wax.
A wild possibility flickered in my chest like a firefly behind bamboo.
“Honestly, too much! You found a place and didn’t tell Mom, boo… Xiao Shengsheng, have you been well?”
“Mom misses you, like rain misses the earth. Wear more layers so cold doesn’t nibble you like frost.”
“And, and, during that monthly time, drink more— waaa, don’t hang up— cough, cough— it’s a prerecording, hehe.”
“I bet Xiao Shengsheng’s face is impatient right now, like a cat swishing its tail. Ah, too bad Mom can’t see.”
“Such a pity, like a flower blooming with no one to watch!”
No, you guessed wrong; my face is blank like a lake at dawn.
“And also, I put snacks in this spatial spirit jade. If Xiao Shengsheng is hungry, eat them up, okay?”
The recording from Qingyu Mengyin faded like lantern light, and silence pooled like ink.
I checked at once, hands fluttering like sparrow wings, and found a big bundle inside.
I tore the bag open like peeling bamboo sheaths… of course, that familiar green again.
“Remember to eat till you’re full! You must eat it!” The scattered light drew back like fireflies and spoke again.
I’m not eating it, I thought, mouth closed like a tight-lipped lotus.
Gurgle, gurgle— my stomach protested like drums under storm.
That bird shouldn’t have flown far, like a shadow skimming the eaves. Maybe I could…
I licked my lips at the window like a cat watching fish in a pond.
Far off, the bird felt a chill like winter on feathers and sped up, wings slicing the dark.
Forget it… it’s probably that woman’s bird, tethered like a messenger pigeon.
If I eat it, will she not come next time, like a courier halted by an empty perch?
I shook my head hard, trying to clear it like ringing a bell. Why do I care if she comes or not?
What’s it to me, like a cloud passing a mountain? Nothing, right?
This cookie is actually tasty, like spring sweetness on the tongue… then why am I so resistant?
I don’t get it, like a riddle written in dew.
If I must say it, maybe I don’t want to walk the path Dream— that old hag— expects, like rails set straight.
Going exactly as she wants feels suffocating, like a tight collar; I want to be a little unruly.
But I’m so, so hungry, like a hollow drum. Maybe I should eat some?
It’s fine either way; my bust isn’t that big, and it’ll grow anyway, like buds swelling in spring.
Right, then why suffer, like fasting under a full moon? Eat now.
I pictured Dreamsound’s face, then shrugged it off like loose snow, and tore the bundle open.
I grabbed the familiar green cookie and shoved it into my mouth, like a hungry squirrel with a pinecone.
Mm, that familiar taste— sweeter than last time, like sugar dusting a rice cake.
If you ignore the side effects, it’s actually pretty good, like rain after a dry spell.
This cookie… it’s trouble wrapped in sweetness, like thorny roses under glaze.
