Zhang Yemiao’s steadily improving forging skills, the incremental stat boosts, and ever-changing attributes kept reminding her this was a genuine otherworld.
After days of observing, she’d accepted Wang Qi wouldn’t take the bait. She’d finally calmed down.
*Yeah… I really lost my cool back then.*
*Was it because I almost died? Even with high affinity, I shouldn’t have rushed things…*
She watched Wang Qi carefully inspecting crops in the field—plants utterly unlike those from her homeworld. This peaceful life… wasn’t so bad.
No need to force their relationship into anything specific. No need to overthink. Just this quiet existence felt… surprisingly good.
Sure, the lack of electronics was disappointing. But there were ways to pass the time.
A tiny flame flickered in Zhang Yemiao’s palm—low-temperature, harmless magic even a child could produce. Not even Rank 1. Yet for someone with her abysmal magic affinity, this was the peak of her hard-won skill.
Glasses perched on her nose, she opened a forging manual. Peace shattered the moment a sharp, wary voice cut through the air:
“Is this the Qi-Miao Smithy?”
A strangely dressed figure stood outside their cottage. Before Zhang Yemiao could react, Wang Qi approached the visitor without surprise. She decided to observe.
After a long exchange, the stranger left smiling. Only when they vanished did Zhang Yemiao step out. “Who was that?”
“Business!” Wang Qi grinned. “My daily trips to town paid off. Someone noticed your gear has hidden stat bonuses.”
Zhang Yemiao frowned. “Only one percent?”
“One percent is enough. Enchanted items always cost more—crafting them’s complex. Ours are pricier than normal gear but way cheaper than true enchanted gear. Of course we’d get noticed.”
“He seemed familiar with you… and knew our smithy’s name.” *Only Wang Qi would’ve told anyone that.*
“An acquaintance from the grasslands. I joked he could ‘repay my kindness’ by visiting our shop…” Wang Qi chuckled. “Guess he took it seriously.”
*Acquaintance.*
The word struck Zhang Yemiao like ice. A sudden, irrational dread coiled in her chest. *Acquaintance.*
In this alien world—where she’d believed only she, Wang Qi, Zou Moan, and Li Pingtian were true companions—reality had shifted. He had others he called *friends*. How close were they? Surface-level politeness? Or… equals to *them*?
Her heart hammered like a drumstick against tight skin. Breath caught in her throat. *Like sinking into mud—unable to gasp.*
“You okay?” Wang Qi’s voice snapped her back. “Dorm Leader, you look pale. Bad sleep?”
She forced a smile. “Just tired. Gonna nap…” She fled inside before he could question further.
Collapsing onto her stiff bed, she buried her face in the pillow. *Am I this fragile?*
*Calm down. Wang Qi making friends isn’t weird. Protagonists in novels always gather allies… even harems. Why’s this bothering me?*
*Because of my heart.*
*If harems are normal here… where do I fit? If I were still a delicate, lovely girl from my old world, I’d have confessed to Wang Qi by now.*
*But I’m not.*
The thought of confessing made her stomach churn. She glimpsed her reflection in the bedside mirror—her pretty face seemed to twist into something grotesque.
*That line… I can’t cross it.*
*There are ways,* a voice whispered. *If Wang Qi took the initiative… or some curse forced us…*
*Cross that line naturally, and the barrier would crumble.*
She’d tried. Those near-flirtatious gestures lately—her efforts. But Wang Qi never bit. *Which means he has his own barrier too.*
*If I were still that girl… would he have made a move by now?*
*Creak…*
The wooden door opened. Wang Qi stepped in, sighing. He sat beside her, his hand resting naturally on her head like petting a cat. “Knew something was off. Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
Zhang Yemiao turned away but didn’t pull from his touch. She yanked the pillow over her face.
Wang Qi rubbed his temples. *Why’s Dorm Leader so upset?* He’d consulted the soul in the crimson bead earlier—*“Just hug her,”* the woman had said—but that felt too forward. Still… if head-pats helped…
Silence thickened.
“Wang Qi…” Her muffled voice broke it. “Do you… have many friends out there?”
He blinked. *Random question? Maybe she’s avoiding the real issue.* “Hmm… the adventurer squad I met grinding in the grasslands—the guy earlier was one of them. The elven herb-seller at the market stall next to mine. The veggie vendor across the aisle…”
*He’s made so many connections?!* Zhang Yemiao wanted to punch him. *Elven girls… obviously cute. Since when does Wang Qi approach unattractive girls?*
*Bet he set up his stall beside hers just to ogle her.*
“You’ve met a lot of people.” Her voice was flat.
“I need intel to survive here. More contacts mean more knowledge about this world’s basics—”
“No!” She ripped the pillow away, glaring. “That’s not what I meant!”
Wang Qi recoiled, yanking his hand back—but she caught it. Her small hands barely wrapped around his wrist. *How tiny I am beside him…*
*Strangers this size would terrify me. But Wang Qi…*
She pressed his palm flat against her chest.
Wang Qi froze. *Soft…* The warmth beneath his fingers sent panic through him.
“Do you feel it?” she whispered.
“…It’s soft.”
Zhang Yemiao flushed crimson but held his gaze. “My *heartbeat*. Do you feel it?”
Her intensity sobered him. He focused. Enhanced senses caught her racing pulse.
“I’m scared,” she admitted rawly. “You’ve met so many people… and I know nothing. What if… someone surpasses me? We four came here together—I thought we were special. But we’re not…” Her words tangled. “I can’t explain it right, but—”
He finally understood why the crimson bead’s spirit had said, *“Just hug her.”*
He pulled her close. She stiffened briefly, then melted against him.
“You *are* special,” he murmured into her hair. “In this world, you’re my only true kin. I’ll never abandon you. Never.”
“…I never said all three of us *had* to be special.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
*Is this… enough?* Just his arms around her, and the fear dissolved like mist.
