She slipped home in a state of panic and locked the door behind her. Only then did Xi Feng feel a little safer.

She knew full well this wasn’t something she could just get out of so easily, but if she could hide for a while, she would. Running away might be shameful, but it worked.

Her phone screen lit up with a buzz. Only then did she notice all the unread messages on QQ.

“Gugu?”

“Captain, you there?”

“7/8—we’re just waiting on you.”

Seeing the messages reminded Xi Feng that she was supposed to be working on DSR from eight to eleven every night. She checked the time. It was already 8:24 p.m.

She couldn’t believe she’d spent a whole half hour on Bei Yaoyue. That phrasing sounded a little weird, but it wasn’t exactly wrong.

Normally, unless something serious came up, she wouldn’t just leave her teammates hanging. But this definitely counted as something serious, right?

She’d been so caught up in the whole mess of turning into a girl that she’d completely forgotten she was supposed to be working on DSR.

“Sorry, everyone! I overslept QwQ Just woke up.”

Xi Feng hurriedly opened QQ and apologized to her teammates in the group chat, adding a cute little emoticon for good measure.

At the same time, she braced herself to get roasted. It was tradition in their static: anyone who was late without a good reason, or simply vanished, got an all-out barrage from the whole team.

But to her surprise, not a single person blamed her. Instead, they offered a few gentle words of comfort.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. We only waited twenty minutes.”

“Captain, you’re a high schooler, right? I get it. High school’s a lot of work. It’s normal to be exhausted and sleep through your alarm.”

“Are you worn out? If you’re really tired, just take the day off. We’ll be fine.”

The group’s attitude had done a complete one-eighty compared to before. Xi Feng couldn’t help thinking, Holy crap, guys. You’re being way too damn real right now.

Before, they would’ve called her out and lectured her for ages over being twenty minutes late. Hell, even logging in a few minutes late because of the server queue would’ve earned her an earful. Now she was way later than that, and almost everyone was comforting her instead.

If there was one difference between her now and before, it was that she was now a lovely girl in her mid-teens, whereas before she’d been a rough 21-year-old guy.

The sheer gulf between how she was treated before and now brought Xi Feng to tears. So this is reality? Why did I have to learn about something this cruel?

“It’s okay, I can play. I’m really sorry I’m so late. I’ll be there right away.”

She sent another apology to the group, then hurried back to her room and turned on her computer.

Another dull day of DSR progression, not much different from usual. What left Xi Feng at a loss for words was that those same seven teammates were now far more forgiving of her mistakes than before. Even when one of her errors caused a wipe, someone would comfort her, and everyone spoke to her in a much gentler tone.

Fortunately, they made some progress today. For the first time, they got past the second trio and saw the fire tornado.

When it was time to log off, several teammates sent her messages at once: “We know you’re not feeling well, so get some rest. Don’t push yourself.” “It’s late. Take a shower and get some sleep.” “Once we get past the fire tornado, it’s P4. We’ll clear soon. Keep it up!” “Drink more hot water.” All those caring messages left Xi Feng cringing all over again.

Was this the legendary pretty-girl privilege?

But this was terrifying. Had these people seriously gone eight lifetimes without meeting a girl?

Xi Feng was reviewing the evening’s recordings as usual when a few “knock, knock, knock”s came from the entryway.

“Who is it?” Xi Feng called out warily, getting up and heading for the door.

Had Bei Yaoyue come to confront her?

They hadn’t talked much, but they’d been neighbors for years. It wasn’t strange that Bei Yaoyue knew which room she lived in.

But all she got in response was silence, as if it had just been someone’s prank. Whoever it was had knocked and then left.

Xi Feng had been about to look through the peephole when she discovered a heartbreaking fact that made her want to slam her head against the wall and die: she was too short. Even standing on tiptoe, she couldn’t reach the peephole.

With no other choice, she eased the door open a crack and stealthily peeked out through the gap.

But before she could make out who was outside, a powerful force shoved against the door, sending Xi Feng tumbling backward onto the floor as the door swung open.

“Ow!”

The pain of landing hard on her butt made Xi Feng grimace, her brows nearly knotting together. A few tears welled up at the corners of her eyes, much to her dismay.

That really hurt! Xi Feng had never imagined that falling over could cause such unbearable pain!

Through her blurry vision, she saw someone stroll inside as if nothing had happened, then slam the door shut behind them.

Oh no! How had she let someone in without thinking? What if this person was a criminal?

With her body this weak, she wouldn’t stand a chance of fighting back. She wouldn’t even have a chance to run.

“Name,” the figure in front of her suddenly said.

It was a girl’s voice. A little cool and distant, but with a clear, ethereal quality, like misty rain by a riverbank. Surprisingly pleasant to listen to—if only it were a little less cold and a little warmer.

“Huh?” Xi Feng froze for a moment.

“I asked your name.” The girl’s voice turned a little sterner.

“X-Xi Feng…” Faced with the girl’s somewhat forceful tone, Xi Feng’s voice dropped despite herself. With tears in the corners of her eyes and a flustered, pitiful expression, she looked like a little rabbit waiting to be eaten.

Realizing this, Xi Feng cursed inwardly. This was bad.

First impressions mattered a lot. If she gave the girl the impression that she was timid, it’d be very hard to change that later.

She’d slipped into being timid without even realizing it. That wasn’t a good sign, because it meant Lilian’s earlier instructions to make her timid and tsundere really had affected her personality in a tangible way.

She gritted her teeth and silently made up her mind: she couldn’t go on like this. She had to work hard to become more assertive.

“Xi Feng? Is that your real name?” The girl sounded doubtful. “Is Xi actually a surname?”

“O-Of course it’s my real name!” As if the question had hit some strange nerve, Xi Feng suddenly grew much more animated. “It’s rare, but Xi really is a surname… Ah!”

Damn it!

She’d gotten so worked up that she bit her tongue halfway through her sentence. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through the tip of it. Xi Feng covered her mouth and lowered her head, her face twisted in pain as her crimson eyes fluttered wildly, trying to hold back the tears welling up.

“Xi means evening, or dusk, so Xi Feng means ‘evening wind.’” Xi Feng explained the meaning of her name to the girl, her words slurred. She always had this inexplicable stubborn streak about the strangest things.

The pain gradually faded. Xi Feng blinked away the tears in her eyes and looked up at the figure standing before her.

As expected, it was Bei Yaoyue.

She’d already been mentally prepared for this, so Xi Feng wasn’t all that surprised. What did leave her dazed was how unfamiliar Bei Yaoyue’s voice sounded. In other words, despite being neighbors for years, Xi Feng had never once heard Bei Yaoyue say a single word.

What a failure.

Bei Yaoyue’s unwavering stare made Xi Feng feel a little uneasy. With a guilty conscience, she quietly looked away and said, “Um… you’re Bei Yaoyue, right?”

Bei Yaoyue didn’t answer, and Xi Feng immediately felt awkward. So she started talking just to fill the silence. “Bei Yaoyue is a nice name, too. Yao means fine jade, something beautiful and precious. The words ‘Yao Yue’ make you think of the rare, elegant full moon on the fifteenth day of the month. And the surname Bei really elevates the whole name. In Chongguo, the moon only appears in the north on rare occasions, so a northern Yao Yue feels even more precious.”

Drawing on the talent for making stuff up that she’d honed in high school reading-comprehension tests, Xi Feng started spouting nonsense with a perfectly straight face. When she finished, she even nodded to herself in satisfaction. Her analysis seemed pretty reasonable—almost like it might actually be true.

“Nicely put.” Bei Yaoyue crossed her arms and shot Xi Feng a sidelong glance. “But my surname is Beiyao. Yue is my given name.”

“…”

The awkwardness was practically overflowing from the screen. Xi Feng felt like she was about to die of embarrassment.

She’d gone all out, only to get the other girl’s surname and given name mixed up. Xi Feng drooped her head in dismay.

The two fell into an awkward silence. Xi Feng couldn’t think of anything to say, while Bei Yaoyue kept looking her up and down.

“You look so anime.

“White hair and crimson eyes—even most professional cosplayers wouldn’t go that far.”

Xi Feng froze. When she finally processed what Bei Yaoyue had said, her face flushed bright red. “Who are you calling a weeb? You’re the weeb! Your whole family’s full of weebs!”

Still, Bei Yaoyue did have a point. White hair was Xi Feng’s personal preference; the crimson eyes were just to fit her vampire identity. It sounded great in theory, but in real life, those features really did seem out of place.

“I suppose so…” Bei Yaoyue’s cherry-pink lips curved into the faintest smile. She fixed her gaze on Xi Feng’s bright crimson eyes, still a little flustered, and said, “After all, you were born with that hair and those eyes, weren’t you, Miss Vampire?”