After leaving the clothing store, Hildegrifa and the other walked for a while before stopping in front of a communication slate shop.
“Let’s go in and take a look, Xuanxi,” she said.
Xuanxi followed her inside. The counter displayed all kinds of communication slates—some big, some small, with varying prices. The screens came in both black-and-white and color.
Hildegrifa swept her gaze over them casually, then pointed at the one in the very center of the counter. “This one. Let me see it.”
That communication slate was water-blue, its screen as large as an open book, with bezels so narrow they were nearly invisible. Under the light, it gave off a soft glow—almost identical to the one Hildegrifa used herself.
The clerk took the slate out. Hildegrifa accepted it, turned around, and held it out to Xuanxi. “For you. Take it.”
Xuanxi looked at the slate, then at Hildegrifa’s face, but didn’t take it. “This is too expensive. I can’t accept it.”
“But the one you have now is too old.”
“I can still use it.”
“The screen is too small.”
“I can see clearly.”
“You can’t receive the Forum.”
“I don’t read the Forum anyway. If there’s news, you’ll tell me, won’t you?”
Hildegrifa was silent for a moment. Her amethyst-colored eyes gazed at Xuanxi, her lips pressed slightly together. It was clear she hadn’t given up on convincing Xuanxi.
She didn’t pull her hand back. That water-blue communication slate hung in the air between them, shimmering coldly under the afternoon sun.
“Take it,” she said, her tone as serious as it had been in the clothing store. “Your communication slate is too old. Whenever I try to contact you, I always have to wait a long, long time for a reply. It’s not that you reply slowly—it’s that broken old stone is too slow at receiving signals. I don’t want to wait that long.”
Xuanxi was taken aback. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘don’t want to wait that long’?”
Hildegrifa didn’t answer, but her cheeks turned red—so red that it was perfectly visible even in the afternoon sunlight.
“You’ve sent me less than twenty messages in total so far, you know.”
“There’ll be more from now on.”
Xuanxi looked at her flushed cheeks, then back at the water-blue communication slate. She suddenly remembered something. Hildegrifa had almost never sent her long messages on the slate. Each time it was just a few words, sometimes even ending the conversation with a single “okay.” She had always thought Hildegrifa just didn’t like using the communication slate, didn’t like texting.
But now she understood the reason. ‘Probably?’
It wasn’t that she didn’t like texting—it was that her own slate was too slow to send and receive. Sending a message and waiting forever for a reply… that kind of waiting must have been hard on Xige.
Xuanxi reached out and took the water-blue communication slate. It was cool and smooth, yet much lighter than her old black-and-white one.
“Then send me more messages from now on,” she said.
The corner of Hildegrifa’s mouth curved upward. “Okay.”
***
After they finished shopping in the town and were on their way back to the Academy, Xuanxi walked ahead while Hildegrifa followed close behind. The Academy’s main gate gleamed dully under the moonlight. The access light was on, but it was red.
“What time is it?” Hildegrifa asked.
Xuanxi pulled out the new communication slate. The screen lit up, casting a soft glow on her face. The numbers on it made her stop in her tracks. She stared at the digits for two seconds, then slowly raised her head and looked at Hildegrifa with a subtle expression. “…Eleven forty.”
The weekend curfew was eleven thirty. They were ten minutes late.
Hildegrifa’s expression didn’t change, but her ear twitched—like an animal’s instinctive reaction when it sensed danger.
Xuanxi had already learned to read the hidden meaning behind that movement. It meant she was thinking about something against the rules.
“Come on, I’ll take you over the wall,” Hildegrifa said.
They both turned at the same time and hurried along the Academy’s outer wall. The wall was high, but for the dragon race, it wasn’t a problem. The issue was that the wall was covered in a sensing barrier. Once it detected magical fluctuations, an alarm would go off.
Hildegrifa stopped beside an ancient tree leaning against the wall.
“You climb the tree,” she said. “I’ll jump up, then you pull me from above.”
Xuanxi looked up at the tree. Its trunk was thick, its branches stretched out over the top of the wall, and its leaves glowed silver-white under the moonlight. She gave an “okay” gesture.
Climbing walls was something she’d done plenty of times back in Border Town. After Helasi’s Blacksmith Shop closed, she would occasionally sneak out and climb the old tree outside the town to daydream. That was one of the few joys she had that belonged only to her.
But this time was different. This time, it wasn’t to get out—it was to get in. And this time, she had a friend by her side.
Xuanxi grabbed the lowest branch and pulled herself up. Then the second, then the third. Her movements were faster than she expected. The tree was large, the branches were steady, and there were plenty of footholds.
Hildegrifa watched from below, moonlight reflecting in her eyes, along with Xuanxi’s shadow.
“Give me your hand,” Xuanxi said, squatting on a branch and reaching down.
Hildegrifa took two steps back, ran forward, pushed off the trunk with her toes, and her silver-white hair traced an arc through the air. Her hand caught Xuanxi’s precisely. Xuanxi pulled hard and hauled her up.
The two of them squeezed onto the same branch, shoulders touching, thighs touching, so close that Xuanxi could hear Hildegrifa’s slightly quickened heartbeat.
“The wall’s below,” Xige said in a low voice, pointing at the top of the wall beneath the branch. “Just jump down.”
“Mm.”
“Are you afraid of heights?”
“No.”
“Then why is your heart beating so fast?”
Xuanxi didn’t answer. Xige couldn’t see her expression, but she saw her lips move slightly, as if she wanted to say something, then swallowed it back.
On the wall, Xuanxi jumped first. Her landing was light, almost silent. Her water attribute body allowed her to cushion the impact with a water membrane. She stood up and waved upward.
Hildegrifa jumped down too, but her landing was heavier. The tips of her feet hit the grass with a dull thud. At that very moment, footsteps sounded in the distance.
“Who’s there?”
A flashlight beam swept around the corner, illuminating the two of them.
‘Crap, it’s a patrolling instructor!’
Without a second thought, Xuanxi grabbed Hildegrifa’s hand and ran toward the dormitory building, fingers interlaced, palms pressed together.
The two of them ran across the lawn, across the stone path. Silver-white hair and ink-green hair intertwined in the wind.
“Stop right there!” The voice behind them grew fainter.
Xuanxi pulled Xige into a small path. The path had no streetlights—only moonlight filtering through the gaps between buildings, painting silver-white squares on the stone path.
They ran between those squares, their footsteps landing on the moonlight, their hearts pounding in their chests.
Hildegrifa’s hand remained in Xuanxi’s grip. She didn’t struggle, didn’t hold back. She just let herself be pulled along, like a passenger who never asks “where are we going,” quietly sitting in the car, watching the scenery fly by outside the window.
They stopped at the side entrance of the dormitory building. Xuanxi leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Her face was flushed from running, and fine beads of sweat had formed at her temples.
Hildegrifa stood beside her, her breathing much steadier—S-Rank stamina was on a whole different level from Xuanxi’s—but her chest was still rising and falling slightly.
Xuanxi turned her head to look at her, and suddenly laughed.
“What are you laughing at?” Hildegrifa asked.
“At us,” Xuanxi said. “An S-Rank young lady and me, getting chased by a patrolling instructor in the middle of the night at the Academy, like a couple of thieves.”
Hildegrifa looked at her, moonlight reflecting in her amethyst eyes. “You’re not a thief.”
“Then what am I?”
Hildegrifa didn’t answer. She reached out, her fingertip cool and soft, carrying that faint, cold fragrance, and brushed away the stray hairs stuck to Xuanxi’s forehead with sweat. Her fingertip <slid across,
“…Nothing. Let’s go in.” She withdrew her hand and pushed open the side door.
The hallway was very quiet. Only their footsteps echoed down the empty corridor. The midnight-blue light streamed in through the windows, dyeing the hallway the color of the deep sea.
Xuanxi followed behind Hildegrifa, looking down at her silver-white hair swaying in the blue light. She suddenly remembered that rapid heartbeat from earlier. Maybe it wasn’t from running. ‘Maybe it was something else.’
She quickened her pace until she was walking beside Hildegrifa, shoulder to shoulder.
“Xige.”
“Mm.”
“Will you go down the mountain with me again next weekend?”
Hildegrifa turned her head to look at her. “Do you want to go?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’ll go. But we need to come back earlier.”
Xuanxi curved her lips. “Okay.”
The two of them entered Room 404 and each washed up.
***
After Xuanxi finished her bath, she lay down on the bed. In her spare time, she picked up the new communication slate. The water-blue screen lit up in the darkness. Her contact list only had three names: her adoptive father Helasi, Elsa, and her current roommate and benefactor—Hildegrifa.
The stone vibrated. Hildegrifa had sent a message: “Did you have fun today?”
Xuanxi stared at that line for a few seconds, then looked up at the other side of the screen. She typed back: “I had fun. The clothes were beautiful, the wontons were delicious, the communication slate is great, and of course, the person who accompanied me was great too.”
“Mm.”
“What about you?”
After a moment, the stone vibrated again. “Had fun too.”
Xuanxi stared at that word for a long time. She felt that those three words were heavier than any long sentence.
Moonlight squeezed through the gap in the curtain. Xuanxi closed her eyes, a small curve forming at the corner of her mouth.
“Good night, Xige.”
“…Good night, Xuanxi.”
From the other side of the screen came the sound of pages turning, faster than usual, as if hiding something.
She ain’t just tsundere, she shows signs of autism