Time rewound to the afternoon.
Sunlight pierced through the clouds, casting harsh, cold shadows across the metal fence outside Ephemeral City Prison.
As the heavy prison door clanged shut behind them—
Xincheng was the first to bolt skyward, the whistling wind unable to drown out her suppressed gasps and trembling sobs.
Qiye and Weizhan followed closely, their red and blue streaks of magic carving twisted arcs through the air.
At that moment, the patrol mission’s directives still flickered on Weizhan’s communicator, yet she had silenced it. There would be no patrol today; their hearts were too shattered. How could they possibly muster the strength to protect this city?
****
The apartment’s reinforced door was flung open, the jarring sound startling white doves into flight from the window.
Qiye strode to the liquor cabinet, tearing open the collar of her shirt. She, who usually abstained from alcohol, now seized a chilled bottle and tilted her head back, gulping it down.
The pungent liquid dripped down her chin, spreading dark stains across the carpet.
Her gaze fixated on the label Silvia had personally affixed to the bottle, a label that once bore his warning: ‘A little wine lifts the spirits, too much harms the body.’
Suddenly, Qiye hurled the bottle against the wall, the shattering glass mingling with her stifled sobs:
“Liar… You big liar, Senior…”
She bit her lower lip.
Before this moment, Qiye had harbored a deep sense of guilt towards Silvia, for it was she who had used the magic-blocking device on him… Yet, this very act had caused Silvia to reveal his true, male form!
‘A clumsy move that backfired?’ No, ‘a clumsy move that serendipitously succeeded’…
Under the influence of alcohol, her initial guilt gradually warped into a nearly paranoid, self-justifying conviction, a desperate escape from her own conscience:
‘Heh, heh… If it hadn’t been for me, perhaps… we would still be living in ignorance…’
Thus, Qiye convinced herself that her actions were not wrong; at the very least, they had exposed Silvia’s true identity. Otherwise, when the day came for them to truly bare their hearts to one another, wouldn’t they have been utterly shocked to find Silvia pulling out something entirely unexpected?! Therefore, Qiye repeatedly told herself that she had done nothing wrong; it was Silvia who had deceived them first. Even if Ling Qinghe had forced her to use the magic-blocking device, surely it was heaven itself, unable to tolerate Silvia’s ‘disguise,’ that had intervened, right?
‘She thought.’
Qiye took another deep gulp of wine, attempting to quell the sharp pain in her heart with the burning sensation.
She knew she was deluding herself; behind this self-justification lay a deeper abyss of confusion and agony. Yet, she preferred to drown in this twisted emotion rather than confront her own shattered inner self.
‘Indeed, deep down, Qiye still loved Silvia; she simply refused to admit it, wishing only to escape the truth… Moreover, Qiye knew she was ‘rotten to the core’ now—no longer pure. Forced by the little demoness so many times in private? The image of the little demoness, Ling Cheyin, constantly invaded her world… even ‘enjoying’ her heart. She simply wasn’t worthy of a woman as clean and pure as Silvia…’
But now, as the truth ripped away the disguise, she paradoxically felt a sense of relief—’So everyone harbors secrets… Heh, heh… So even the perfect Senior was merely an illusion built on lies.’
Discovering Silvia was a man, Qiye actually felt a little better.
“This way… it’s actually a relief.”
Qiye murmured to the empty air, then took another large swig of wine.
The more she thought, the more distressed she became. She haphazardly wiped her face, her fingertips brushing the wine stains at the corners of her mouth, then grabbed another bottle and tilted her head back, chugging it down.
The liquid streamed down her chin, into her collar, soaking the fabric over her chest:
“Ugh… What… what exactly happened?”
Her voice grew slurred and indistinct; she was completely drunk.
“Hiccup~ This so-called deception, this disguise, what could you possibly gain from it, Senior?”
Qiye curled her body into a ball.
“Was it… our bodies… But…”
Her words were punctuated by another hiccup.
“That just doesn’t make sense, does it?”
As she spoke, Qiye toppled sideways, collapsing uncontrollably into the pile of empty bottles. The alcohol that she could usually expel from her body with a mere thought… now seemed to be a deliberate choice, allowing it to numb her nerves.
****
The Three Primary Colors Squad was quite different from Xia Naxin. Xia Naxin had been intimate with Silvia; they had done almost everything there was to do. As for Qiye and the others, their interactions with Silvia had been limited to simple hugs, kisses, and embraces. They had no idea if Silvia possessed male characteristics…
****
Weizhan was curled up on the sofa, the sound of tissues being pulled out intermittently… Soaked tissues lay crumpled in a pile on the floor, her vision blurred by tears.
Xincheng’s bedroom door remained tightly shut. With no lights on and the curtains still drawn, the room was exceptionally dim.
She lay on her side on the large bed, the cold glow of her phone screen illuminating her pale face as she scrolled through her photo album—
Within it were years of shared photos with Silvia, chronicling countless memories.
She wasn’t crying; she had reached a state of calm after an outpouring of tears and grief.
Xincheng’s trembling fingertips traced Silvia’s smiling face on the screen before she pressed the phone to her chest.
She began to reminisce—recalling moments from the stone pavilion on Chaoyang Mountain in the mornings, and their everyday dates…
Qiye was always the first to rush to Silvia’s side, not only wrapping her arms around his waist in an embrace but also boldly linking her arm through his right. Weizhan, blushing, would pull on Silvia’s left hand, feigning a discussion about the day’s patrol while her fingertips subtly hooked his sleeve. Xincheng, however, was always the last to arrive, stepping through the morning mist, left only to watch the two of them laugh and chat with Silvia.
Listening to Qiye’s boisterous laughter and Weizhan’s demure calls.
Though Xincheng said nothing aloud, what was truly in her heart? A bitter ache filled her, and she was fiercely jealous. Silvia was so close, yet her chances to touch him were minimal—only ever grazing his periphery. ‘Qiye and Weizhan had stolen all the ‘perks’ of being with Senior…’
“Why is it always them…?”
At that moment, the light from her phone screen illuminated her reddened eyes. Silvia’s moments, monopolized by Qiye and Weizhan—those instances Xincheng couldn’t join, relegated to observing from the sidelines… Xincheng knew that Qiye and Weizhan, just like herself, harbored fervent affections, hidden within every shared moment with Silvia.
Only…
Qiye’s love was bold and unrestrained, always openly linking arms with Silvia, asking for hugs and kisses. Weizhan’s love was delicate and gentle, conveying her feelings through shy glances and gestures.
But now, perhaps, things were about to ‘change drastically’…
“Senior Silvia… Qiye and Weizhan already hate him, don’t they…?”
Xincheng murmured, a newfound, unfamiliar fanaticism in her voice. She had, paradoxically, come to a realization, perceiving this as her opportunity…
“Then, could I perhaps…”
Suddenly, a bold, ‘mad’ idea took root and blossomed in Xincheng’s heart.
“If I could spirit Senior Silvia away from the Iris Feather Kingdom, to a land where heterosexual marriage is permitted, wouldn’t I be able to be with him forever?”
This thought blazed like a wildfire, igniting her dormant heart and mending her previous heartbreak all at once.
Xincheng sat upright, her breath quickening.
She was a native citizen of the Iris Feather Kingdom, having been indoctrinated since childhood with the belief that same-s*x love was the only true path… even to the point of aversion towards heterosexual relationships. Yet at this moment, Xincheng believed… her fervent feelings, her deep emotions for Silvia, had shattered these ‘shackles’.
****
The moment she pushed open her bedroom door, Xincheng’s eyes were stung by the sight in the living room—
Qiye was slumped amidst a scatter of empty wine bottles, sprawled across the table, her cheeks still streaked with undried tears. Weizhan was curled into a ball, her even breathing punctuated by occasional sobs, clearly having fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion after crying.
Witnessing this.
She made no move to comfort her teammates. Instead, she dug her nails into her palms, a faint smile playing on her lips as she watched Qiye and Weizhan. In moments of extreme sorrow, people often veer towards extremes. Staring at Silvia’s photo on her phone, she suddenly felt that all her years of forbearance and concession had been utterly futile. Qiye and Weizhan were consumed by anger and disappointment; they had chosen rejection. But she didn’t want to be like them. In this moment, when everyone else abandoned Silvia, perhaps only her unwavering resolve could prevent Senior Silvia from plummeting into despair.
“Only I will not abandon Senior.”
Xincheng murmured softly, then gently closed the living room door and returned to her own room. She began to plot… For the sake of her love, she was willing to betray everything, to wager it all.