Running into each other on the rooftop was a bit awkward.
Song Wuli broke the ice, “What are you doing here?”
Greta seemed a little nervous, “Enjoying the view. Mr. Song, you came here too?”
Song Wuli: “Enjoying the view.”
Silence fell. Both of them looked rather embarrassed.
He waved his hand, “Well then, enjoy yourself. I’m heading down.”
Old Song left, eventually returning to the office area, found a bench, and lay down to sleep.
He needed to catch up on sleep—he hadn’t had enough yesterday.
Suddenly, he remembered something, hurriedly took out his phone, and added a note for that woman from the outer district: Greta Wohl.
At last, he knew her name.
Old Song closed his eyes and tried to nap, but he wasn’t woken by an alarm—he was jolted awake from a nightmare.
He woke drenched in sweat.
First, he checked his crotch—the most important thing was still there.
He lifted his shirt to check—no lash marks.
His heart was pounding wildly, fast.
The dream had felt far too real. Even after waking, he still felt a lingering sense of dread.
In his mind, he saw that sickly obsessed face from the end of the dream.
Thinking it over, Lvyie and Greta did look a bit similar. Maybe it was just his face blindness acting up, but what if they really did look alike?
Besides, Greta had just joined the company, and right around that time, Magical Girl Lvyie began making appearances in the city.
Wasn’t that a bit too much of a coincidence?
Could Greta be Magical Girl Lvyie?!
Song Wuli got up from the bench, nodding repeatedly, more and more convinced this could be true.
He opened up Greta’s Moments, checking her posts.
Before December last year, she lived in the West, with plenty of photos and updates to prove it.
In January this year, she traveled here with the Merchant Caravan that comes from the West.
It was now early June—she’d been living in this city for nearly half a year.
It didn’t seem to have anything to do with Magical Girl Lvyie.
Song Wuli checked Lvyie’s news from overseas—her latest activity was just a few days ago, right before Huanhong was attacked.
Some citizen’s phone video had caught Lvyie making a brief appearance in a city in the West.
At that time, Greta was already in this city—9,000 kilometers away from where Lvyie had shown up.
Looked like Greta and Lvyie were unrelated; they just happened to both be outsiders.
He sighed. What a pity.
If Greta really were Lvyie, he’d have uncovered a huge secret. He could launch a surprise attack on Lvyie, capture her, and thoroughly humiliate her to avenge Huanhong.
But, alas, she wasn’t.
When he got home that night, Jin Luan sent a message, saying they needed to gather for a meeting.
Why did they have to meet in person?
Yinlin and Huanhong were both curious, but didn’t ask for details.
Jin Luan couldn’t exactly say that one reason was that she missed them, could she?
Anyway, the official story was they were gathering to discuss some things face-to-face, and as an added bonus, get to know their comrades better and strengthen their bonds.
Song Wuli originally wanted to refuse—these were dangerous times, far from peaceful.
There were the Human Supremacist attacks from the front, Magical Girl Lvyie lying in ambush, and, now and then, demons stirring up trouble.
Was it really appropriate to have a get-together at a time like this?
“Team Leader Song, are we meeting tonight?” Chang Kaihuai, the newest member of Copywriting Team Two, interrupted his thoughts.
“Oh, no, there’s no notification yet,” Song Wuli came back to himself.
Watching Chang Kaihuai resume work, Old Song suddenly sobered.
He was now half a manager, and there were more things to consider.
His attention returned to his phone—the rejection message remained unsent, and in the end, he agreed to the gathering.
He began to understand Jin Luan’s good intentions.
In fact, since Yinlin’s debut, the trio of Jin, Yin, and Hong had never had an official get-together—never truly grown closer.
They only gathered occasionally to fight demons, united by that shared goal.
Outside of that, they had little private interaction.
Even young Jin Luan had realized this; Song Wuli noticed it all too late.
And so, the three of them met late at night. Jin Luan’s secret little base welcomed its third guest.
Huanhong brought a few bags of sunflower seeds, Yinlin carried a few cups of milk tea, and Jin Luan had some pastries in hand.
It seemed they’d all thought along the same lines—they exchanged a knowing smile.
Jin Luan had already set up a small table outside the cabin, with three wooden chairs placed around it.
Before sitting down, Huanhong curiously explored the little cabin built atop the skyscraper, stepping inside.
Yinlin immediately broke out in a cold sweat. Looking at Jin Luan, she saw Jin Luan’s expression was calm, making no move to stop her.
She got it—those photos had already been put away.
But Huanhong stepped in, looked around for a few seconds, then came out stiffly, looking embarrassed.
Yinlin also slipped in for a peek. Not only had the photos inside not been hidden, there were even more new ones pasted up—all photos of Yinlin from every possible angle.
“Li…” Huanhong formed a circle with her left forefinger and thumb, then threaded her right forefinger through the circle repeatedly, “What’s this relationship?”
Yinlin hurried to deny it, “No, I’m not close to her.”
Jin Luan, however, didn’t understand the gesture at all, and looked utterly confused.
But she understood Yinlin’s words, so she quickly retorted, “You mean me? We’re not close?”
Yinlin: “We really aren’t.”
Jin Luan raised her voice and leaned in, “We’re not close?”
Yinlin took a few steps back, “Really not close.”
She retreated to the wall, nowhere left to go.
Jin Luan braced herself on the wall, trapping her, “After all we’ve been through, we’re still not close?”
Yinlin shook her head again, “We really aren’t.”
As the two drew closer and closer, Huanhong took two steps back, “Should I step out?”
Seeing the two still flirting, Huanhong asked again, “Am I in the way? Should I leave?”
Fortunately, they didn’t actually start going at it—maybe having someone else around made Jin Luan embarrassed.
Seated, Jin Luan deliberately leaned a bit closer to Yinlin, while Huanhong purposely sat farther away.
Thus began the trio’s first tea party.
“Is it really a good idea to have tea at a time like this?” Huanhong looked at her smooth arm; the marks had already disappeared. “There’s a magical girl with the same origin as us, trying to attack us, and we’re just out here in the open. Is this really okay?”
“That’s exactly why we need to be together,” Jin Luan sat up straight, sipping her milk tea.
She began to explain why she’d called this midnight tea party.
First, to boost everyone’s confidence and dispel the gloom of the recent attack.
Then, to send a message to the outside—especially to Magical Girl Lvyie—that the trio of Jin, Yin, and Hong was a tightly united team. Offend one, and you offend all three.
And, of course, to get close to Yinlin—she hadn’t seen her at the milk tea shop in ages.
The rest of the reason was to discuss future plans of action.
Jin Luan had thought it over—they needed someone to investigate the Genesis Artifact. Just what was that thing? It was still a mystery, so someone needed to look into it.
And what was the deal with Yinlin’s badge? That needed investigating too.
What about the teleportation gate hidden in the city? That also needed investigating.
And the headsets the demons wore in their ears? Still needed investigation.
They couldn’t go running to Huang Yi for everything—magical girls had to have their own ways of gathering intelligence.
Who had the most free time would do the investigation.
Yinlin immediately claimed she was too busy—she had exams.
Huanhong claimed she was too busy too—she also had exams.
So the task fell to Jin Luan, who seemed to be the least busy of them all.