Morning lectures always turned the south gate into a bottleneck.
Bicycle bells rang every few seconds. Someone squeezed through the crowd with two cups of hot soybean milk, apologizing without slowing down. A delivery rider argued with security for the third time that week because he insisted the front entrance was faster.
Yè Yī walked through the crowd as if none of it concerned him. People moved aside almost unconsciously. Not out of fear. It was more of a habit.
Nearly two years on campus had taught everyone the same lesson. If you wanted to talk to Yè Yī... you'd better have a reason.
Qiū Huà Bǐ wasn't much different. The only difference was that he'd at least look at you before pretending you didn't exist.
"...Is it always this crowded?"
Chūn Lěng Fēng wasn't really asking them. His eyes were everywhere.
Two girls hurried past discussing a presentation due before noon.
A boy sprinted across the square with half a steamed bun still in his mouth.
Someone yelled from another building.
"Don't save me a seat! I'm skipping this class!"
Chūn Lěng Fēng watched them disappear.
"...Nobody's training?"
Qiū Huà Bǐ looked over.
"Training?"
"The morning routine. The clan woke us before sunrise. We cleaned the ancestral hall. Memorized the family rules. Practiced breathing, weapon forms. Then breakfast. Every day."
Qiū Huà Bǐ stared at him for a second before laughing quietly.
"Brother... This is university. People train by trying not to fail Calculus."
"...What's Calculus?"
Qiū Huà Bǐ blinked.
"...You know what? We'll save that trauma for another day."
Even Yè Yī's shoulders seemed a little lighter.
Violet checked the time.
"You two have class."
Qiū Huà Bǐ nodded.
"See you tonight."
As they turned away, Qiū Huà Bǐ added calmly,
"And don't let him eat through the whole city."
Violet looked back.
"No promises."
The high-speed train slipped south before noon.
For almost the entire journey, Chūn Lěng Fēng sat by the window.
Cities gave way to rivers. Rivers disappeared behind mountains.
Then towns.
Factories.
Rice fields.
He watched everything.
"...People really live everywhere."
"They do," Violet answered.
"The Chūn Clan always said the outside world was dangerous."
"It can be."
"They also said outsiders couldn't be trusted."
"They're not entirely wrong."
He rested his forehead against the glass.
"...Then why does it feel...?"
He searched for the right word.
"...Alive."
Violet closed the book resting on her lap.
"Because people are."
The train rolled into Shenzhen just before noon. The station emptied into streets that never seemed to stop moving.
Crowded avenues soon narrowed into older neighbourhoods where laundry hung between apartment blocks and electric scooters squeezed past each other with barely enough room.
They finally stopped in front of a weathered hostel.
Chūn Lěng Fēng slowly looked up.
"...You live here?"
"I still do."
The building had seen better years. The paint had long since faded. Rust clung to the balcony railings. Bicycles leaned against cracked walls downstairs.
"...It's small."
"It is."
"You don't mind?"
"No."
An elderly woman hanging clothes in the courtyard looked over.
"Jiu..? Back already?"
"For a little while."
The woman noticed Chūn Lěng Fēng immediately.
"Boyfriend?"
"...No."
"Brother?"
"...No."
The woman clicked her tongue.
"What a pity."
Then she went back to her laundry.
Chūn Lěng Fēng stared after her.
"...People just ask things like that?"
"They do."
"They don't get punished?"
"...For asking?"
He nodded.
"No."
He thought quietly as they climbed the stairs.
"...Cities are strange."
The room hadn't changed.
A narrow bed.
A wooden desk.
Books stacked neatly against one wall.
Two travelling bags waiting beside the wardrobe.
Nothing unnecessary. Nothing wasted.
Chūn Lěng Fēng looked around.
"You really don't own much."
"I own enough."
She zipped the last bag.
"Help me carry that."
He nodded.
They had barely reached the street again when the smell caught him.
Charcoal.
Chilli.
Cumin.
Freshly grilled meat.
His stomach answered before he could. It growled loudly enough that two pedestrians turned around.
Across the road, smoke curled above a line of food stalls.
Without saying anything, Violet crossed the street.
"What do you want?"
His eyes widened.
"...Can I?"
"You've been staring for aboutthree minutes. So yes."
He hesitated.
"...Everything?"
"...Within reason."
Five minutes later, he carried enough food for three people.
He took one bite of a lamb skewer. Then he stopped walking, chewing slowly.
For anyone else... it was just street food.
For Chūn Lěng Fēng... it tasted like the first ordinary afternoon of his life.
After leaving her luggage at the Yè ancestral residence in Xuancheng, Violet made one call.
"Mù Xiāo Xiāo."
"I'm here."
"We're coming to see the captive from ET."
"Oh. I'll tell Bái gè."
A pause.
"...Are you bringing Yè Yī's spicy braised chicken?"
Violet smiled.
"...Next time. He has classes."
"Oh. Okay."
For almost forty years, Wén Yuán Book Hall had stood in the heart of Shenzhen. People joked that if a book couldn't be found there, it probably hadn't been written.
Students came to study. Researchers came to search old archives. Parents spent entire afternoons in the children's section.
Every renovation had modernized the building without erasing its history. Republican-era bookshelves stood beneath glass ceilings. Ink paintings shared walls with digital catalogues. The old and the new never argued with one another. They simply belonged together.
The entrance bell chimed softly.
Behind the counter, a university student wearing a bookstore apron looked up.
"Oh. You've been here before ...With Mù jie."
Violet nodded.
"Mm."
"Welcome back."
She noticed Chūn Lěng Fēng.
"First time?"
He looked around helplessly.
"...It's different.. and bigger than I imagined."
She laughed.
"Come during exam season. You won't even find an empty chair."
She returned to serving customers.
To her... this was simply the best part-time job she'd found near university. Nothing more.
Chūn Lěng Fēng wandered.
History. Medicine. Architecture. Poetry.
His feet carried him wherever his eyes stopped. He reached toward an old geography book. His fingers paused.
Almost unconsciously... he looked around first. Old habits were hard to kill.
Once, when he was ten... reaching for the wrong book had earned him bruised knuckles that took ten days to fade.
"You can take it."
He looked back.
Violet stood a few steps away.
"...Really?"
"You don't need permission."
"What if I damage it?"
"You apologise and pay for the damages, of course."
"...That's all?"
She looked puzzled.
"What else?"
He carefully slid the book free as though it might disappear.
Violet watched quietly. She didn't rush him. It felt less like bringing a new recruit to a headquarters... and more like taking a child somewhere he'd dreamed about without believing it truly existed.
Eventually...
"...You're late."
CRUNCH.
Chūn Lěng Fēng jumped so hard he nearly dropped the book.
Mù Xiāo Xiāo stood beside him with her usual bucket of fried chicken.
"...Hello."
CRUNCH.
The bone disappeared.
He stared.
"...She... ate it."
Mù Xiāo Xiāo looked at him.
"...Calcium."
CRUNCH.
She turned toward Violet.
"Come."
They followed her through one of the oldest aisles in the bookstore. Past shelves that ordinary customers rarely visited.
Mù Xiāo Xiāo stopped before an enormous bookshelf and rested her hand against the polished wood.
Without a sound, the shelf slid aside. Cold air drifted upward. Beyond it waited an elevator. Its brushed steel doors reflected the three of them.
Chūn Lěng Fēng frowned.
"...What's this?"
"An elevator," Violet answered. "It goes down."
He stepped inside cautiously.
"...The room.. moves?"
"Mm."
The doors closed. A soft chime sounded.
Then— The floor sank.
Chūn Lěng Fēng's eyes went wide.
"...IT'S FALLING!"
He instinctively threw both arms around Violet.
"I'm not ready! I don't want to die!"
Violet didn't even lose her balance.
"...We're descending."
"I KNOW! THAT'S THE PROBLEM!"
Mù Xiāo Xiāo watched them quietly while eating another chicken wing.
"...First time."
Crunch.
After several more seconds... the elevator came to a gentle stop. The doors slid open.
Chūn Lěng Fēng slowly let go.
"...I survived."
"You did."
"...That thing is evil."
"No," Mù Xiāo Xiāo said. "...It's certified."
He wasn't convinced.
The underground corridor stretched farther than he expected. Specialists moved calmly through the halls.
Some carried documents. Others discussed research as they walked.
Nobody hurried or wasted words. Yet the place never felt idle.
Ān Tiān Qǐ appeared at the end of the corridor.
"There you are."
She smiled when she noticed Chūn Lěng Fēng staring at everything.
"Hello. First time?"
He nodded honestly.
"...It's huge."
"It gets bigger."
She gestured for them to follow.
"This way."
They passed through several reinforced security doors before stopping outside a heavy steel room. It had no windows, only a single door.
Ān Tiān Qǐ knocked twice, then stepped aside.
"The Director is waiting."
Chūn Lěng Fēng looked from the door to Violet.
"...Who's inside?"
Violet's gaze rested on the handle for only a moment.
"The person who has been waiting the longest."
She pushed the door open.
Inside, someone was already seated. The room remained silent. The figure didn't look up immediately. Only after a few slow seconds... did he finally raise his eyes toward the doorway.
Ān Tiān Kuò.