“Hee hee hee…
Listening to Tangtang’s laughter beside him, Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened, and he almost sat up straight.
But just as he was about to get up, someone next to him stretched out an arm and pressed him right back down.
“Chengzi, don’t say anything, just listen to me.”
“It’s all your fault, you bad dog! Bad wolf! But, but… you’re just too good…”
Jiang Lingwei muttered, her tone somewhat gloomy, tinged with the confusion of a drunkard:
“Yes, I have to go…”
“I can’t stay, I really have to go… Chengzi, what did you see back then… Don’t be sad…”
“I’m sorry… really sorry.”
Jiang Lingwei apologized, her voice as light as a sigh.
“What can I do… to make it up to you…”
Her head tilted, and her breathing gradually steadied—she had already fallen asleep.
After waiting a few minutes, and making sure she was completely asleep, Jiang Cheng slowly moved the arm resting on his chest away, and quietly got up himself.
He moved to the edge of the bed, gently settled Jiang Lingwei comfortably on the mattress, and tucked her in under a thin blanket. Staring at her sleeping face, Jiang Cheng whispered softly:
“No need to make it up to me, Xiaowei.”
He hesitated, then gently kissed her forehead.
“Because I was the one who fell for you first.”
He sat down on the tatami, thought for a while, and then started tapping out some notes on his phone about the things he had seen in the illusion.
Apart from those things about his identity—which even he didn’t fully understand—he turned most of what he saw in the illusion into words and wrote it out.
“Mm.”
At four in the morning, Jiang Lingwei sat up and clutched her head.
“My head hurts so much…”
“Ah.”
“In the name of justice and goodness, Magical Girl Aurora has arrived.” (muttering)
After a two-second transformation animation, she cast a few healing spells on herself, finally clearing away the headache and dizziness.
She glanced toward the tatami, then quietly turned her head back, checked the time on her phone—4 a.m.
To be honest, at the start she really did intend to get drunk.
Even those so-called ‘drunken words,’ she wasn’t completely unaware she had said them.
In the end, though, the alcohol hit harder than she thought, and lying in bed with Jiang Cheng felt so comfortable, talking and talking until, muddled and hazy, she actually fell asleep.
“Sigh.”
No way she could ever match Tianpin’s drinking capacity—just two bottles of beer and the Aurora is sunk.
And Jiang Cheng, even though he was with her all night, he didn’t do anything, just obediently went to sleep on the tatami.
Looks like he’s in Samoyed mode!
Jiang Lingwei thought she’d wake up in his arms.
(Damn it, why am I even disappointed about that?)
(Forget it, forget it, stop thinking about men—get to work!)
She slapped her own cheeks to wake herself up a bit, then threw off the blanket. After reading Jiang Cheng’s message all the way through, she more or less had an idea in her mind.
She got up and walked to the window, looking out at the sea.
It was pitch black out there, and Jiang Lingwei couldn’t see anything clearly, but she could hear the sound of waves beating against the shore.
Farther away, below the horizon, a pale blue glow was appearing—heralding the coming of sunlight.
She remembered hearing from Tianpin, who came from a seaside town, that at this time of day, some night-fishermen would be steering their boats back to shore, and from higher up you could see many boat lanterns along the coast, each loaded with fish and the hopes of the people by the sea, returning to the dock.
After a while, the sun would rise, turning the whole sea golden.
But sadly, this time she couldn’t see any of that. The ocean was calm and empty; maybe Canghai City’s fishing industry wasn’t strong, or maybe people were worried about sea monsters and such. Not a single boat was out on the water.
After all, it wasn’t like it used to be.
Pausing a moment, Jiang Lingwei climbed up onto the windowsill, opened the window, and flew out.
“Yaoyao, there’s something I have to tell you today.”
Her mother across from her was speaking seriously.
“Mom? What do you mean?”
“It means…”
Suddenly, Jiang Lingwei stood up, holding a Divine Light Wand in her hand, and shouted loudly: “Aurora!”
“Whoosh—”
The Giant of Light stood tall upon the land.
The scene shifted. Aurora Ultraman was now locked in battle with the ancient monster Die’erzan.
Soon, Aurora Ultraman’s chest light began to flash, and he raised his arms, gathering power—
“Bang, bang, bang.”
Wait a second, why did Ultraman’s beam attack sound so rhythmic?
“Hmm?”
Jiang Yao cracked open her eyes a sliver.
(What a chaotic dream… And where did Ultraman come from anyway…)
Lying in the hotel’s soft bed, Jiang Yao yawned a little and glanced to the side.
Next to her pillow, Xiao Baiye was curled up under the covers, whiskers twitching with every breath, sleeping soundly.
“Bang, bang, bang.”
Jiang Yao, about to fall back asleep, opened her eyes wide.
(Something’s not right. Why is the beam sound still going?)
(Wait a second?)
(Isn’t that someone knocking on the window!)
The soft knocking continued, prompting Jiang Yao to turn her head in that direction.
“!”
A pink magical girl, shrouded in a faint light, was floating outside the window.
Seeing Jiang Yao looking her way, she stopped knocking and gave a slightly apologetic smile, waving her hand.
“…Aurora?”
She almost blurted out “Mom” again. Sitting up in bed in her cat pajamas, Jiang Yao hurried over to the window, rubbed her eyes, and, astonished, opened it:
“Ah~ Jeanne-eats-dirt!”
“It’s me.”
Aurora nodded outside the window and said:
“Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but there’s something I need to talk to you about, Crystal.”
“Can you come with me?”
“Oh, oh, wait a sec.”
Jiang Yao climbed onto the windowsill. Just as she was about to climb out, Aurora hurriedly flew over, reached out her arms as if to catch her, and said anxiously:
“Eh—wait, wait a minute, aren’t you going to transform before coming out?”
“Can’t be helped.”
Jiang Yao gripped the window frame and started kicking her legs out:
“My spirit attire isn’t armor, you know? If I transformed first, I’d be too big and break the window.”
“But, transforming—”
“Whoosh.”
Before she could fall into Aurora’s arms, she had already transformed—now floating outside in full armor, a blue cloak billowing behind her, the magical girl [Crystal] blinked:
“What’s the matter with transforming? This is how it’s done.”
“There’s no transformation sequence or lines?”
“What do you need those for?”
Crystal looked completely puzzled.
Aurora was nine-tenths at a loss, staring at Crystal for a long time before finally managing to say: “How can there not be one?”
“Is that so strange?”
Crystal said in confusion:
“You just channel the light magic to transform. Nobody else does it either.”
“Then where’s your transformation device?”
“What’s that? Magical girls always hide their magic inside their bodies.” Crystal remembered her dream and, though she didn’t get it, answered honestly, “It’s not like we’re Ultraman.”
“But, if you don’t have a device, doesn’t it feel weird to keep your magic core inside your body?”
“Nobody has one.”
Crystal added, “At least Opal doesn’t, and what’s a magic core anyway? Like the dantian or something?”
“…Fine, I guess…”
Aurora struggled to accept this. No wonder Wen Yaquan said modern magical girls were different from those in the past.
Well, at least so far no one seemed to have any problems—maybe this was just normal for magical girls these days.
Pushing that little episode aside, Aurora nodded and said:
“Come with me.”