“Just came out of the movie theater. Looks like we really do have some rotten luck, always crossing paths.”
Lu Xiaoxiao wondered the same thing—why she and Lin Cheng seemed so fated to keep bumping into each other.
She hadn’t been home in three days, crashing at the esports hotel instead. She’d spend her days venturing out for good eats now and then, then hole up in the hotel at night to game, sticking close to the area. She’d just stepped out of the cinema nearby when she spotted him: this guy parked on the roadside, shadowboxing with his own shadow like a total goof.
He actually looked pretty sharp in that suit.
“What fate? It’s all by design. I dreamed last night we’d bump into each other under a streetlamp, so I rode over here to sell flowers.” Lin Cheng stood up from the ground and held out a rose to her.
Lu Xiaoxiao didn’t take it. She pursed her lips. “How long have you been waiting?”
“Three or four hours, I guess.” Lin Cheng shrugged it off.
Truth be told, he hadn’t come to wait for her at all. He was just bored and out for a stroll. He operated in this commercial district anyway, often heading to his regular bar for a beer after hawking flowers. And the esports hotel where Lu Xiaoxiao was staying was right nearby, so he couldn’t say if this was pure coincidence or not.
“Is this how you usually scam girls?”
“You bet. Tons of clueless girls in JK uniforms come buy flowers from me. The bold ones hop on my motorcycle for a joyride—I take ’em up to the mountaintop outside the city to stargaze.”
“Oh? Where’d you get the suit?”
Lu Xiaoxiao reached out curiously, running her fingers over the fabric from his collarbone down to his abdomen. The streetlights didn’t illuminate it perfectly in the night, but the material felt top-notch. Her instincts told her it wasn’t cheap.
“Back when I ran in rich cougar circles. Can’t hustle without a proper outfit, right?”
Lu Xiaoxiao rolled her eyes at him but finally took the rose, tucking it into the pocket of her open-collared white blouse. She tilted her head his way. “You said there’s a spot to see stars?”
“Carrot Mountain on the city outskirts. Ride right to the top.”
“Let’s go,” Lu Xiaoxiao said flatly.
Lin Cheng slipped his remaining rose into his own jacket pocket, pulling a long face. “This service is usually reserved for sweet-talking the clueless girls later on.”
“Three hundred bucks—take it or leave it?”
“Nope, minimum three-fifty.” Lin Cheng haggled.
“Four hundred. Let’s roll.” Lu Xiaoxiao’s tone stayed even. Lin Cheng led her to his motorcycle. The sight stirred memories for her—she had to admit his riding skills were solid. That rainy night, she’d just clung tight to him, and the ride had been smooth all the way.
The bike was one Hongshao had called in a favor to deliver for him. No way was he riding all the way back from East City himself—that’d be a nightmare.
There was only one helmet. Lin Cheng handed it to Lu Xiaoxiao. She shot him a sideways glance. “You wear it. If we crash, I won’t die, but you might.”
“Fine.” He strapped it on. With a light hop, she settled onto the back seat. Lin Cheng felt a bit off about it—her open white blouse up top, moon-pale plaid skirt below. But Lu Xiaoxiao caught his worry. “I’ve got the skirt pinned down. Plus, safety shorts.”
“Oh… got it.”
With that, Lin Cheng fired up the engine and took off.
Half an hour later, the roaring wind on the road made it impossible for Lu Xiaoxiao to chat with Lin Cheng. She’d always thought speeding on a bike was stupid—until he blasted out of the city onto deserted suburban roads. The wind whipping past her ears and through her hair unlocked something. She discovered the thrill, even as instinctive fear made her arms wrap lightly around his waist. Eyes squeezed shut against the gale, she buried her cheek against his back.
Fifteen minutes after that, Lin Cheng pulled up at the mountaintop. A dim pillar lamp stood there, along with an ancient well and the Mountaintop Pavilion. This was his secret spot—somewhere he’d come chill when boredom struck.
Lin Cheng and Lu Xiaoxiao dismounted. He headed into the pavilion, reached down, and hauled out a wooden crate from beneath it. Inside were a dozen cans of craft beer.
Lu Xiaoxiao blinked. ?
“You know they revoke your license for drunk driving, right?”
“Not sweating this one.” Lin Cheng cracked open a can and passed it to her. Lu Xiaoxiao perched on a pavilion chair, pinching the can lightly between her fingers. It chilled instantly. She handed it back to him and grabbed a fresh one.
“Where’d the beer come from?”
“Hauled it up earlier. I only crack ’em open when I’m here solo.”
“Why?” Lu Xiaoxiao asked on reflex.
“Who rides buzzed with a passenger?”
“Aren’t you scared of wiping out alone?” Lu Xiaoxiao took a sip of the frosty brew. Her ability came in handy right then.
“Death’s not scary.” Lin Cheng swigged deeply too, gazing at the moon across the peak, faint stars dotting its edge. City light pollution had stars fading fast—even here in the suburbs, it was barely better.
Lu Xiaoxiao caught a whiff of chuunibyou from his words and snorted a laugh despite herself. She sat beside him, eyes on the distant moon. “If death’s not scary, what is?”
“No clue, but living scares me way more than dying.”
“Here we go again. You fed me that line on that rainy bar night too.” Lu Xiaoxiao suddenly remembered. The words rang familiar. Amid the booze-fueled haze back then, his mildly edgy vibe had draped him in mystery, drawing her in, urging her to uncover his secrets.
Lin Cheng chuckled awkwardly, at a loss for words, and chugged more beer.
The spring night hung in perfect stillness.
The pavilion’s edge held that lone lamp—its glow dim and moody. Lu Xiaoxiao and Lin Cheng sat neither too close nor too far, letting silence settle without another word.
It wasn’t a lack of things to say. Sometimes, just sitting quiet like this felt right.
In the hush, the wind rustled. Beer bubbles burst on the tongue, the liquid sliding down the throat with crystal clarity. Across the way stretched seas of plum blossoms blanketing the mountain, petals carpeting the ground. White flakes drifted on the breeze, faint in the dark. A big gust now—would it mimic snowfall?
Lu Xiaoxiao lounged back against her chair, beer set aside. Eyes half-lidded, she savored the breeze on her face. The night whispered peace—until Lin Cheng abruptly stood and snatched at the air.
Lu Xiaoxiao didn’t catch what he was after until he cupped his palm mysteriously for her inspection. “Firefly.”
She leaned in. A faint green glow pulsed there. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen one. Lin Cheng beamed like a kid showing off a prized toy.
“Rotten grass turns to fireflies, gleaming by moonlight.”
“Huh?”
“Just nostalgic. Been ages.” The firefly fluttered from his hand. He turned to Lu Xiaoxiao, his expression oddly earnest. “You remember that question I asked you last time?”
“What?”
“About the identity under the Si Ming Mask… Honestly, Si Ming reminds me of a firefly.”
“No idea what you mean.”
“He showed up because of the Catastrophes, shining bright. Once they ended, there was no place left for him in this world.”
“He shunned fame and power. If he’d wanted, he could’ve seized control of the whole Alliance back then.”
“If I recall right, the rumors peg Si Ming as pretty young, yeah?”
It wasn’t some big secret. Si Ming was indeed young—Alliance guesses put him between twenty and twenty-six.
“What’re you getting at?”
“I’m Si Ming’s ultimate fanboy. I’ve figured out why he really retired.” Lin Cheng shared his little theory with smug pride.
“Why?”
“Because… back then, he was young for sure. Killer at slaying Abyss monsters, but clueless on human hearts. Couldn’t grasp true justice, or what power’s really for. Couldn’t split morals from Rules. All that drama wore him down. He feared becoming a leader, dodging the weight of command. Didn’t wanna be the trolley driver picking who lives or dies. So he bailed on duty, retired to normal life.”
“Si Ming himself said it was power exhaustion,” Lu Xiaoxiao replied coolly.
“Oh… right, yeah.” Lin Cheng laughed, sheepish. “Forgot that part.”
“But… you might be onto something.” Lu Xiaoxiao tilted her head to the moon. “Si Ming’s dropped hints like that. Said he’s ace at monster-slaying but lost on Ability User infighting. Plenty figure he retired because he scorned becoming the Alliance’s blade. Quiet heads-up… the Alliance still suspects his power didn’t run dry—he was just burned out. Pure speculation, though. Si Ming wouldn’t lie, right?”
“Everyone lies.”
Lin Cheng gave a wry smile. Lu Xiaoxiao turned, eyeing him strangely. “You sure you’re not a Si Ming hater?”
“What? Doubting my loyalty? I’ve got the cosplay gear at home! One-to-one replica! Super badass! That Demon Face Mask cost a fortune! Wanna borrow it next time?”
“Boring.” Lu Xiaoxiao crossed her legs lazily under her skirt. No stockings today—just black Mary Janes and lace-trimmed ankle socks.
“What do you usually chat about with the clueless girls you bring here?” she asked.
“Tailored to the mark. But the ones bold enough for my bike are thrill-chasers—no time for moonlit poetry. Dim lights, remote spot… a light touch sparks electricity. Lock eyes, and kissing feels inevitable. Moon’s perfect, breeze gentle. Folks love getting swept up in their own fantasies.”
“What kinda twisted logic is that?”
“Humans are animals at core. Animals are wired for mating and breeding. ‘Booze-fueled hookups’? Just alcohol loosening the chains of societal morals. In the dark, we follow instincts. One hug sparks ‘love.’ That’s us—craving touch, thrills, company. Terrified of loneliness, of the void.”
Lu Xiaoxiao scoffed. “You think one beer’s enough to sell me on your bullshit?”
