Ever since I was little, I’ve always been fascinated by big cities like Herb City.

As the capital of Longan Province, Herb City has boomed in recent years. It boasts South Nagi Port—one of the nation’s largest harbors—the famous “Great East Silver Beach” resort, and the Artisan District’s high-tech zone, nicknamed the “Silicon Valley of Skyflame Nation.” Coupled with two decades of heavy investment in the New West District, the city’s GDP has consistently ranked top five nationwide, drawing floods of job seekers and entrepreneurs.

From middle and high school geography and history, I knew this world’s tech, culture, and education mirrored my previous life’s—but up close, the differences were huge.

First, Herb City didn’t exist in my old world. Neither did Longan Province or even Skyflame Nation. It wasn’t just the names. Without merging Bi Xinxue’s memories after reincarnation, Herb City’s layout, Skyflame Nation’s map—even the world map—would’ve felt utterly alien. Honestly, nearly all the geography I’d learned before was useless here.

Second, this world’s tech and medical standards seemed just a tiny bit more advanced.

Forty-some years ago, Herb City was a tiny village. Villagers mostly grew herbs and spices. Later, Longan Province leaders, spotting its coastal potential for port development, sent teams to build it up—village to town, county seat, then city—finally naming it “Herb City.”

After arriving here, I’d expected months to adjust to the new city’s culture and layout. Instead, in under a week, I’d wandered most of Herb City and met bosses from all corners of the country.

“Sorry I’m late.”

At Minzu Cinema in South Nagi District, I spotted Lu Yun standing awkwardly near a burger shop, glued to his phone. Only meeting him in person did I realize—he really was tall.

His profile said 178 cm. Having dealt often with 180 cm Wang Lei, I knew exactly how a guy that height should look.

But…

I stole a glance from the small square.

This Lu Yun seemed even more boyish than Wang Lei.

Sky-blue T-shirt printed with a chibi Luo Tianyi design, matching shorts—he genuinely looked like a high schooler. *Wait, his profile said 24?* He should’ve been working two years post-graduation.

“No worries. I’ve been playing mobile games anyway—the healer angel just got stunned five times.”

Seeing me approach, a hint of surprise flashed across his face. He tucked his phone away, flustered. “You… you’re so cute.”

“Thank you.”

I stepped closer, voice cautious. “Um… the movie hasn’t started yet, right?”

Grocery shopping, cooking, family time—I’d left late. Arriving at 7:10 p.m., I silently prayed this client would be understanding. No bad reviews, please.

“Nope. Screening starts at 7:30. Twenty minutes left—but HualiMao’s timer’s already running.”

Lu Yun tapped his phone. “*Your Name* is 100 minutes. We’ll wrap up past 9.”

“I’m so sorry. Really.”

Palms pressed together, I put on my most pitiful look. “As compensation, I’ll extend tonight’s session till 10 p.m.? What do you think, boss?”

“Don’t worry. I’m easygoing. No need for ‘boss.’ Ten minutes late? Family stuff? Totally get it.”

He flashed a sunny smile. “That outfit—is it from *Date A Live*?”

“Mm-hmm! Tokisaki Kurumi’s school uniform cosplay.”

I twirled, skirt lifted slightly. “How is it? Cute?”

“Perfect on you.” He nodded. “I was almost mesmerized. Add twin tails and cover one eye? You’d be Kurumi herself.”

“I can’t do twin tails.”

I stuck out my tongue. “My hair’s not long enough. Wigs get too hot.”

“Ahaha, just saying. I rarely watch harem anime anyway.”

Lu Yun scratched his head, eyes flicking toward the cinema. “So… shall we go in?”

“Mm, let’s!”

I linked my arm with his. “How much for tickets? I’ll transfer you.”

“I’ve got it.”

The guy—half a head taller—spoke gently. “You’re doing this for pocket money during free time, right? Two hours for under a hundred bucks. If you covered tickets and popcorn too, you’d lose money. Don’t insist. No guy makes a girl pay for tickets.”

“Oh…”

I thought fast. “Then I’ll buy popcorn later!”

He had a point, but *I’d* breached the booking first. Canceling after accepting was worse than a flat refusal. A complaint meant compensation—and maybe a HualiMao warning. Bad news while I’m still on their homepage spotlight.

“Popcorn’s over twenty yuan a box. Brace yourself.”

Lu Yun paused, as if remembering. “Oh—how much was your fare? I’ll send it.”

“No need!” I shook my head hard. “Subway. Only four yuan.”

“Well… alright.”

“Um, Lu Yun… Brother Lu Yun,” I switched to a coquettish tone, heart easing—he didn’t seem strict. “Your HualiMao profile says you work at a state-owned enterprise near South Nagi Port. True?”

“Pfft. ‘State-owned’? I’m just a lowly admin.” He gave a wry smile. “Call me a handyman. Check machines for faults, verify cargo logs, monitor cameras in the duty room, chase off stray cats or rats chewing wires…”

*You studied mechanical automation… and do this?*

“Well…” I tilted my head cutely. “Brother Lu Yun, I read somewhere—a mysterious flash appeared underwater near South Nagi District on October 21st. True?”

“Huh? You know about that?” He looked genuinely surprised. “I don’t recall media coverage.”

“Stumbled on it while researching your profile.”

“Why research me?”

“Professional prep! Gotta know the client’s interests and lifestyle.”

“That dedicated, huh?” He thought. “Actually… I was on duty that night. Saw the flash everyone’s buzzing about.”

“What was it like?” My curiosity sparked. “As eerie as media said? Cosmic X-rays? Radio bursts?”

Prep told me Lu Yun was talkative, kind, no weird fetishes or obsessions. This booking? No need to fake loli or elegant-onee-san acts. No forced “anime-style” flattery like with Liang Zhiming—praising his “yasashii.” His HualiMao note literally said “freely express yourself.” I’d assumed he’d secretly expect something… but after meeting him? He genuinely just wanted company.

“Radio bursts? Please.” He chuckled under my eager gaze. “Nothing dramatic. Just a plain white flash near South Nagi Port’s estuary triangle—late night, lasted ten seconds.”

“I heard Academy scientists came. Did salvage ops too?”

“Yep. They detected cosmic rays—*theoretically* resembling a white hole. Preliminary finding only. Media probably twisted it into X-rays and radio bursts. If those were real? I wouldn’t be standing here.”

*White hole… underwater? Scientists, really? Even sci-fi wouldn’t dare.*

“Anyway,” he added, “I’ve reviewed footage repeatedly. Just ordinary white light. Want to see? I’ll send the clip.”

At the cinema entrance, he hesitated. “Um… is it okay you’re clinging to my arm like this?”

“Huh?” I tilted my head. “Don’t like clingy girls?”

“Ahaha, not that.” Dimples appeared; his cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s just… first time this close to a girl. You smell sweet—milky and floral. Really cute.”

“Milky?” I blinked. “Lavender, maybe?”

“A hint of lavender. But milky’s stronger.”

“How?! I don’t smell milk!” I sniffed my collar. “Nothing!”

“Let’s drop it.”

He led me to a nearby snack stall, gesturing at the displays. “Popcorn?”

“Yes!”

I released his arm, stepped up. “One large popcorn for two, please!”

“Large popcorn: 20 yuan. Thank you!”

Lu Yun glanced around. “I’ll grab two colas.”

“Diet cola available?”

“Yep, yep!”

Noticing my hesitant-but-wanting look, he headed to the cooler and pulled out two diet colas.

“You’re already this cute,” he murmured with a soft laugh, “yet still watching your diet to stay in shape… Seriously, not leaving other girls any chance to live, huh?”