The Edible Slime and a Distant Memory

“Eh!?”

While Qing Zixi didn’t particularly dislike water—after all, she bathed every day—she detested the clammy, clingy sensation of wet clothes.

Moreover, she was currently wearing Zi Yun’ai’s dress.

“No, don’t!” Qing Zixi exclaimed. “This is Sister Yun’ai’s dress. She’ll scold me if it gets dirty!”

She frantically tried to move her only remaining functional limbs: her feet. However, her small feet, encased in white stockings, felt as if they were treading on soft dough, making her feel a surge of power with nowhere to direct it.

Yet, the anticipated sensation never arrived. Instead, a refreshing, cool touch prompted Qing Zixi to open her eyes, which she had squeezed shut in apprehension.

Before her, the green substance resembled a shimmering blob suspended between solid and liquid, undulating and shifting over her body like a flowing current.

“Pfft,” Qing Zixi scoffed. “Sister Mengying, your hobbies are truly… humorous. Isn’t this something only little kids play with?”

“I know what it is—slime gel, right? Are you in elementary school?”

“It’s not deep.”

****

“Huh?”

Xia Mengying retorted, “Are *you* in elementary school?”

“I, I…” Qing Zixi stammered.

She watched, mesmerized, as Xia Mengying’s small hands gently caressed the gelatinous mass, much like one would pet a kitten or puppy. Under her touch, the substance slowly molded into an entirely different form.

The sight sent a blush creeping up Qing Zixi’s cheeks, her heart quickening its pace.

“…It’s not deep.”

“Phew, that’s much more comfortable,” Xia Mengying sighed. “You should try it too; it’s wonderfully cool.”

Xia Mengying pressed one end of the gel against her own forehead, then playfully tossed the other end towards Qing Zixi.

‘This… is this really okay to touch?!’ Qing Zixi wondered, her face etched with a mix of awe and trepidation as she stared at the sizable object looming before her.

Cautiously, she extended a hand.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips.

It was undeniably refreshing, akin to pressing one’s face against an ice pop on a scorching summer day. Qing Zixi eagerly used it to absorb the oppressive heat from her body.

“Phew…”

Gradually, she noticed that the substance had no peculiar odor. This was a pleasant surprise, as many cheap toys sold on the market often carried unpleasant smells or even harmful chemicals.

“This is actually food-grade,” Xia Mengying announced, “and it’s cantaloupe flavored. Want to try it?”

As if having read Qing Zixi’s very thoughts, Xia Mengying picked up the item and, without hesitation, popped it directly into Qing Zixi’s mouth.

“Guh!?”

The sudden insertion nearly made Qing Zixi choke, yet after instinctively taking a bite, she discovered it was surprisingly delicious. It was cool and soft, with a pleasant chewiness and elasticity, followed by a rush of sweet cantaloupe flavor that filled her entire mouth.

Most importantly, much like fruit, the substance contained a refreshing amount of moisture.

Her body, parched from the oppressive heat, found immediate, albeit temporary, relief. Qing Zixi gripped the sweet treat with both hands and took another eager bite.

“It’s delicious, isn’t it?” Xia Mengying chirped. “And it’s not just edible; you can use it like this too!”

She then pressed the gel firmly against Qing Zixi’s inner thigh, directly over the white stockings, much like an ice pack.

‘Could it absorb heat and simultaneously change its own temperature?’ This was Qing Zixi’s immediate thought.

After all, having used it to cool her burning hot face, she could distinctly feel the substance’s temperature gradually increasing.

“They say all my research is just all show and no substance,” Xia Mengying declared, her gaze fixed on Qing Zixi. “Well, today, I’m going to truly open your eyes.”

As Qing Zixi gazed into Xia Mengying’s sparkling, beautiful eyes, still trying to decipher the true meaning of her words, a peculiar sound reached her ears. It was an unfamiliar, unsettling noise that then blossomed from Xia Mengying’s cherry-red lips—soft, prolonged, and melodious, much like the contented stretch of a kitten waking from a sun-drenched afternoon nap.

Before she could even fully comprehend what she had heard, Qing Zixi’s own dazed eyes suddenly widened, and she, too, emitted an identical sound.

It was an afternoon from a distant memory, long before her family’s fortunes had declined, and before she had died that one time. Young Qing Zixi’s favorite pastime had been playing with modeling clay, the green sticky hands that stretched with a satisfying *splat* to cling firmly to walls, and this very soft gel that could be molded into countless forms.

She retrieved the incredibly inexpensive gel, which had cost a mere two yuan, and began to stuff it into an empty mineral water bottle.

The bottle’s opening was notably narrow, designed specifically for elementary school children whose mouths couldn’t open very wide, often requiring them to use a built-in straw or a special cup.

People often say that the environment shapes individuals, rather than the other way around—one must learn to adapt.

Undoubtedly, this gel possessed an extraordinary adaptability. Qing Zixi merely placed it at the bottleneck, and slowly, gradually, yet with unwavering determination, it squeezed through the narrow opening, burrowing deeper into the bottle.

Ultimately, even Qing Zixi herself could hardly believe it: the entire mass managed to pass through such an incredibly narrow opening and fully enter the bottle.

However, now that her objective was achieved, Qing Zixi took a fine needle and pierced several small holes into the bottle’s body. She then placed the bottle on the ground, lifted her foot, and stomped down hard.

Pffft!

The gel within the bottle, subjected to immense external pressure, erupted from countless tiny holes, transforming into a vibrant, gushing fountain.

Afterward, the bottle lay weakly and deflated on the ground, a testament to its complete ruination, with remnants of green gel still clinging to its opening. Qing Zixi, however, paid it no mind; all she had wanted was to witness that explosive release from extreme compression. She simply instructed the household maids to clean up the mess, then turned to resume playing with her own modeling clay.

How much time had truly passed since that distant childhood memory…?

Lying weakly on the bed, Qing Zixi’s legs trembled faintly as she listened to the pink-haired maiden perched above her, explaining.

“This isn’t a compressed biscuit, you know…”

‘Ah, so it’s a handkerchief that can wipe clean and absorb water, is that it?’

There was no need to fear dirtying the only pair of stockings. Although she had worn them for nearly a week, Qing Zixi hadn’t yet washed either the stockings or the dress. The dress was adorned with numerous sparkling gems, and the stockings had delicate white ribbons attached; she was terrified of damaging them, so the prospect of being able to simply wipe them clean was a huge relief.

Still, she hadn’t expected the other girl to still be capable of speech.

Qing Zixi tilted her head, her chest rising and falling dramatically, as the vivid scenes from moments ago still swirled in her mind.

It had doubled, a full twofold increase!

It was like a mosquito bite: the more it itched, the more one desired to scratch; the more one scratched, the more intense the itch became. This relentless cycle continued—scratching while lying down, scratching while prone, even tumbling onto the carpet—yet no method could quell the infinitely swelling waves of pink desire, trapping her in an endless loop.

The clock on the wall had chimed a full six times, and the effects of the potion had largely faded, leaving behind only an immense void and profound exhaustion.

‘She did the exact same things as me, yet how does she look so brimming with energy?’ Qing Zixi mused.

‘After finding such profound satisfaction, shouldn’t one always desire a deep, peaceful sleep?’

Just as Qing Zixi was contemplating this, her dazed, bloodshot eyes still open, she saw Xia Mengying mumbling about how tired she was, yawning widely, and then tumbling headfirst towards her.

Plop~ Plop~

Qing Zixi felt a soft, undulating pressure on her face, so heavy that it stole her breath.

‘…She’s killing me!’

****

Little Theater

“Silence! The auction begins!”

“Our first item: the white stockings worn by a certain white-haired loli for an entire week without washing! Starting bid…”

“Return to the rightful owner! Hand them over!”

****

And so, Zi Yun’ai’s private collection exhibition hall gained yet another unique exhibit.