“Do you feel like coughing now? Is your throat uncomfortable?”
“How long between doses of medicine? What did the doctor say?”
“No more drinks—they’re too cold. Not good for you.”
“Are you allergic to fox fur? My cousin’s tail is super realistic. Little Guang Yu, scoot a bit farther away first.”
“By the way, with your cough and asthma, do you still keep a cat at home? Isn’t the fur a hassle?”
“…”
On the way to the next venue, Su Yuqiu got a deep taste of what it meant to be fussed over by her online group buddies!
Yezi… she’s been circling around me nonstop!
It couldn’t be helped. Ye Zhibai didn’t know the details, but she’d heard rumors that asthma could be pretty dangerous?!
Her family hadn’t had a TV growing up, but she’d scraped together precious data to watch movie clips now and then.
In those clickbait edits from shady channels, you’d often hear a line like this right at the start.
—Watch closely. This girl’s having an asthma attack. Next second, she drops dead on the spot.
Holy crap! Never mind the wiseass commentary—the content was straight-up hair-raising!
Su Yuqiu wagged her little head side to side, watching Ye Zhibai bustle about. The girl even tried to take the big plush toy she’d just bought, her expression icy cold as ever, but every action warm as could be!
Little Qiu felt helpless at these over-the-top gestures… but a gentle ripple of warmth still spread through her heart.
Yezi came off so aloof on the outside, yet every move she made was so heartfelt.
Warmer than floor heating in the dead of winter.
Still, Little Qiu was a mature young woman—she couldn’t just indulge a childish urge to melt into it.
“Hey…! Enough already, Yezi. You’re worrying way too much! Asthma doesn’t flare up every second. I’m fine right now, no issues at all! Cat fur’s no big deal either. There are different kinds—this type of mine isn’t super sensitive to animal hair. I just avoid burying my face in the cat and breathe deep. That’s about it.”
“But the movies say if it doesn’t flare up, you’re good. If it does… you’re done for.”
“That’s for severe cases! Wait… even severe asthma doesn’t always kill you on the spot! Mine’s the mildest of the mild, just diagnosed last year as a hidden genetic thing. Not serious. I cough a bit before bed when my throat’s itchy, but otherwise, nothing. The doc prescribed meds to keep mild cases from worsening, and it’s under control. No need to make a fuss. Little Guang Yu, you don’t have to stay so far off—that’s not real fox fur. I’m not allergic to cat hair, and synthetic stuff is even less of a—cough! Cough cough? Huh?!”
“You okay? I told you… her family’s local specialty crafts are too lifelike. Better safe than sorry—can’t hurt.”
“Cough… Fine, whatever. Modern cosplay gear is all high-tech and hardcore.”
The slighted Little Guang Yu hugged her big tail close, left to admire it in solitude.
Once Ye Zhibai learned Little Qiu’s condition wasn’t serious—even mild enough to keep a cat without trouble—she relaxed a lot.
With that worry eased, her attention shifted back to the Comic-Con.
“It’s four o’clock. Where to next? Just wander and head back?”
“Save the wandering for later!” Su Yuqiu tucked her cherry-pink hair back under her earphones with one hand, humming mysteriously. “Right now, we’ve got a super soulful spot to hit. Yezi, I guarantee you won’t guess it.”
“Let me guess. The doujinshi zone?”
“Pfft… I knew you wouldn’t—wait, Yezi? What… what did you just guess?”
“The doujinshi zone.”
“Ugh…! How are you saying that so casually?! And how did you even know?!”
Without another word, Ye Zhibai pulled a little notebook from her pocket and waved it in front of the stunned Little Qiu.
“Don’t ask me… Isn’t this your Comic-Con guide? You wrote it yourself. It says it right there—you crossed out the doujinshi part, wrote it back in, crossed it again, and kept it in the end…”
“Waaah!! Don’t say it out loud!”
“…”
Scummy Loli, Lewd Loli. She wrote it herself and won’t even let anyone mention it?
Hah, as if Ye Zhibai were proud to bring it up?
No! She was just seizing the chance to strike first!
Caught off-guard, Little Qiu’s face burned red. She slowed way down, heels tapping the ground nervously, before finally turning her head aside to mumble.
“It’s not like I went looking on purpose… In a huge con like this, who knew they’d sell physical doujinshi? It’s a hidden gem—not on the map, just something I found in the con forums. Doesn’t that make it worth checking out? Not that… not that I wanna see that stuff! I’m not interested at all. Zero percent!”
Aw, no need to deny it so fast?
Protesting like that just makes it scream ‘the lady doth protest too much.’
Ye Zhibai used to think girls were less thirsty than guys—a total myth.
But after seeing Yun’er go all out in bed, settling scores and risking it all, she became a true believer.
Little Qiu… a little loli thirst is totally understandable. No shame.
We’re all just mortals, not saints or deities.
That said, at this moment, the first-striking Ye Zhibai had secured the “not thirsty” label.
Even if they checked out doujinshi, it was Little Qiu’s idea. Nothing to do with me!
Scummy Zhibai, forever on high ground.
But you can never shut up a fox’s mouth.
“Doujinshi?! Sis, you mean those doujinshi? Like the ones you gave me? Mmph…!”
“!”
Ye Zhibai was lightning-quick, clamping a hand over that divine mouth.
Don’t speak!
And I didn’t give them to you—you snatched them!
Little Qiu was just shaking off her embarrassment.
Oh yeah.
She’d forgotten Little Guang Yu was still with them.
Word was she was only in elementary school. The doujinshi zone definitely wasn’t kid-friendly.
Ah, the innocence of youth. Her idea of doujinshi was probably just fancy notebooks from the stationery store?
“Little Guang Yu, we’re talking about those doujinshi, you know? The super smooth ones for homework. But… in a bit, why don’t you find a spot to chill? I wanna check out some nearby spots with your big sis first, then we’ll come get you.”
“For homework…? No, no, no—you can’t write in them. Such a waste! Those are naughty, cuddly black-and-white doujinshi! Sacred brain food—how could you scribble in them? Little One, looks like you don’t get it at all.”
“!”
The air turned awkward in a heartbeat.
Little Guang Yu had just spoken plain truth, but the two behind her froze in their tracks.
After a long pause, the shame vanished from Su Loli’s face without a trace.
In its place, Su Loli shot Ye Zhibai a knowing look, flashing a sly, meaningful smile.
“Oh ho… oh ho ho… Yeah, I get it now.”
“You don’t get it. Let me expl—ugh, forget it. Doujinshi zone. You in or not?”
“In!”
Like I said, we’re all mortals.
So what to do with a non-mortal like Little Guang Yu?
The gleeful little fox had no idea that back home, next to the scallions in the yard, Ye Zhibai was already digging a plot for her.
—To plant a Fox Carrot.
Where there’s light, there’s shadow. Even the biggest Comic-Con was still an otaku subculture meetup.
And at a fan meetup, there had to be stuff fans craved most!
Thirsty things weren’t just a cornerstone of 2D culture—they were humanity’s shared instinct.
This doujinshi zone, defying all the rules, burst free in a modest little hall at the official con.
Don’t let the size fool you… Inside were originals straight from District 11, sourced by big-name creators—some so new they weren’t even online yet. The ultimate holy site of 2D cons.
The line snaking outside? Probably the densest crowd of any hall!
That was the power of thirst. Always had been.
The closer you got, the more masks you saw.
Everyone wanted to save face. Totally get it.
The two social anxiety sufferers, brimming with confidence moments ago, now huddled behind a pillar outside the hall. Neither dared take that final step toward their ultimate goal.
“Yezi… treasure’s right there. Scout ahead, see what miracles await.”
“No way. I wanna keep my social life intact a while longer.”
“Hiss…! You wearing that cap and mask for nothing? With gear like that, you should lead the charge!”
“You’re shorter—perfect for slipping in. You’d score big.”
“But I’m scared… Hold up.”
“Are we thinking the same thing?”
“Maybe…?”
Facts proved they were.
Ye Zhibai and Little Qiu both shifted their gazes to Little Guang Yu, who was chasing her own big tail around the pillar.
Little Guang Yu, instead of this pointless game, you’ve got a higher calling.
Ye Zhibai beckoned her over.
She pulled off her baseball cap, silver hair spilling free. In one fluid motion, she plopped the cap onto Little Guang Yu’s head.
Before the girl could react, Ye Zhibai fished a spare mask from her pocket and fitted it on her personally.
The hat and mask were a bit oversized for Guang Yu’s small face.
But that very fact made her even more inconspicuous, utterly foolproof.
Ye Zhibai and Little Qiu exchanged a glance. The pair of utter degenerates both nodded vigorously in firm approval.
Yes, when it came to sneaking into the convention hall, Guang Yu held every advantage the two of them possessed!
She was daring enough to act, petite in stature, and she even had superior stealth capabilities.
Just before she set off, Ye Zhibai had given her these instructions through Mind Transmission.
“Guang Yu, listen carefully. This mission won’t be easy. You’re already pretty well-disguised like this, but if you’re worried about total social annihilation, feel free to go invisible at the first opportunity and beat a safe retreat. Remember: doujinshi may be priceless, but your life is worth even more.”
“Why all the nagging? Just tell me what you want to see.”
“Citrus Saga: Turbulent Love Part 2. It just came out last week. See if you can find a copy.”
“Got it, got it!”
As if she needed to be told—Guang Yu wanted to read it herself!
Ye Zhibai had finished her instructions, but she noticed Little Qiu still hemming and hawing, reluctant to give Guang Yu her own assignment.
She clearly had her own tastes she wanted to check out but was too embarrassed to say so outright. At the same time, she couldn’t bear to waste the opportunity and didn’t want Guang Yu making the trip for nothing. And so she remained locked in fierce internal debate.
Since Little Qiu wouldn’t ask on her own, Ye Zhibai kindly gave her a nudge.
“At this point, Little Qiu, just spit it out. What types do you like? Let Guang Yu scout them out for you.”
“Uh… Who knew you could be so devilish, Yezi? Sending Little Guang Yu out to scout like that—she’s still so young…”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s plenty brave. If you won’t say, then I’ll send her off right now.”
“Ey! Fine, I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you, okay?!”
This must have been the kind of bashful shyness they meant when they talked about lolis.
Little Qiu’s face flushed a festive shade of red. At long last, she managed to lift her head.
“If… if I just use the jargon, do you think Little Guang Yu will understand?”
“Just say it. Guang Yu’s well-read—she’s pretty sharp.”
Cough. She’d only read that one from my collection, but she was clever enough!
“Fine then…” Little Qiu took a moment to steel herself, then laid out her request.
“Yuri doujinshi. Two characters, pure romance. The protagonist’s a loli type, paired with a girl who’s got a nicely proportioned figure. Ah… and it’d be great if the girl had silver hair! No regrets in this lifetime as a white-hair fanatic! Uh… Yezi, don’t give me that look. It’s just a coincidence—my tastes have nothing to do with how you look. I reserve the right of final interpretation!”
“……”
