Chapter 28: Illusion

Yi Ke raised both hands in surrender. “I won’t run, I won’t run. I was wrong.”
“I’ll forgive you this once. Not again.” Bai Yanci didn’t ease her grip, thought a moment, sniffed. “And no one else gets to call you Ke-ke.”
“Okay.” She laughed softly.
“And no one gets too close to you—not even that Jiang Ci.”
“Okay.”
“Next time you drink out, take me. Don’t let anyone else bring you home.”
“Okay, no problem.” She agreed to everything with a smile. “Darling—anything else?”
The word darling made Bai Yanci blink. Yi Ke grew bolder, slipped free easily, and put her hands on the exposed rabbit ears.
First time touching the immortal sister’s ears—softer than she’d imagined.
“…Don’t fool around.” Bai Yanci’s ears twitched pink.
She nodded obediently—and kept stroking.
“I said don’t move.” Bai Yanci sounded reproachful.
Only reproachful. She didn’t really stop her. Yi Ke had her fill.
When Bai Yanci reshaped and hid the ears again, Yi Ke’s hands were empty. She looked up at Bai Yanci.
Bai Yanci sighed—then laughed. “Still a child. Always playing.”
She smiled. “But you still indulged me.”
“Mm. Of course.” Bai Yanci put out the light and drew the curtains.
In the room, unless you pressed close, there was only black.
“Sleep,” Bai Yanci said softly. “Don’t you have things tomorrow?”
“Mm.” She pulled the quilt from Bai Yanci, turned over, a thick sound from her nose.
Even now, settled, it still felt like a dream.
Sleep crept in. Half-conscious, she felt Bai Yanci come close—arms around her waist from behind, a whisper: “Ke-ke, thank you.”
In the morning Yi Ke woke first.
Bai Yanci beside her slept unusually sound.
Thinking of last night, her face burned again.
Love had stayed buried deep. Under alcohol and truth she’d really confessed.
The internet was right—only the brave get to enjoy life.
Bai Yanci was hers now.
She couldn’t bear to wake her and went to the kitchen—stared at a fridge full of ingredients until her head hurt.
Then she thought: an alien from the moon can cook. Why can’t a native Earthling?
Two broken bowls and a mess later, she had a bowl of noodles.
No matter how bad, it couldn’t be that bad… right?
Bai Yanci got up, saw the strange color in the bowl she’d just made, didn’t dare taste it herself, and set it in front of Bai Yanci. “I got up early on purpose. Try it?”
Bai Yanci glanced once and frowned—soul-searching: “Trying to murder your wife?”
She coughed. “How could I? I followed an online recipe step by step. Maybe it just looks ugly—it’s probably not poison.”
Her voice shrank. She gave up: “Fine, I’ll dump it—”
Bai Yanci took the bowl from her hands, set it on the table, picked up chopsticks without expression, and tasted.
“Acceptable.” As if afraid she wouldn’t believe it, another bite—no other reaction. “Not that terrible.”
“Really?” She didn’t quite believe it.
Not until she watched Bai Yanci finish the whole bowl did she believe most of it.
She sat to eat the second bowl—and Bai Yanci snatched that too.
“Don’t eat it. I’ll eat it.” Bai Yanci said flatly. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it.”
So fast she couldn’t react. The second bowl vanished too.
“If you like it I can cook every morning.” Her first try and such a welcome.
“You should sleep more.” Bai Yanci hurried. “I’m idle at home with no job. You earn the living—I’ll cook. That’s fair.”
“All right, you have a point.”
She left the kitchen. Bai Yanci went back in and made four dishes and soup.
“What’s the occasion—feast like this?” she asked.
“Simple celebration.” Bai Yanci set the last dish down, sat beside her, smiling at her. “Sober now—you don’t remember yesterday?”
Bai Yanci smiled, but the words came through gritted teeth—perfect passive-aggressive art.
She answered fast: “I remember, I remember. How would I dare forget?”
If today it were Bai Yanci who forgot, she’d find a way to make her remember.
She had her now. She wouldn’t let go.
The Sun-Moon Cup finals were close; exams right after.
The spiritual-flame cases had gone quiet. The SI team had little to do—but unease gnawed at her.
“Sister, Qixie hasn’t made trouble in ages. Jade Dust is moon people—you might know her better than I do.” She asked, “Do you think she has another plan?”
“You treat me like an encyclopedia?” Bai Yanci didn’t lift her eyes. “How would I know Jade Dust’s plans?”
She was used to Bai Yanci’s tone and leaned in smiling. “Sister, has anyone told you you could speak a little softer?”
“If she really has a plan, you’re going to stop her?”
“Of course.” She pulled over her sketch tablet and leaned against Bai Yanci’s side. “Jade Dust has done evil—so many spiritual-flame cases. If I catch her, she’ll pay.”
Bai Yanci asked suddenly: “What if she has her reasons? What if she had no choice?”
“Reasons? I don’t buy it.” She scoffed lightly. “Sister, I told you before. Whatever Jade Dust wants the flames for, she shouldn’t use innocent lives for private ends.”
She’d heard the bureau fire was buried by the higher-ups. Mu Wenxin, usually ice-calm, had raged—every experimenter involved locked up and questioned.
She couldn’t get those files—Mu wouldn’t restart the experiment on them either.
Whenever she calmed down, her head filled with this.
Fallen-god identity, Mu, Jade Dust—no useful thread anywhere.
She set down the tablet, thought, then decided: “Sister, will you come somewhere with me?”
“Where?”
“Wangshu Orphanage.” Slow. “That’s where my memory starts. Before that—blank. I want to go back. Maybe something was missed.”
Her voice sank. “Or forget it… after so many years, probably nothing left.”
“How do you know if you don’t try?” Bai Yanci saw her worry and fear, took her hand. “I’m with you. Don’t be afraid.”
“Okay.”
Wangshu was on the outskirts too—in the opposite direction from the Ability Bureau.
Years ago a fire had taken almost everything.
When they arrived, the orphanage was unrecognizable. After the blaze Yang Yufei had dragged them out—no one knew when the fire had died.
Inside the door, ruin.
By memory she found the office where Yang Yufei and Mu Wenxin had talked—empty.
Her old room—empty too. No clues, not one intact corner.
Bai Yanci frowned softly. “You used to… live like this?”
“Before Mu adopted me, I lived here. After the fire, nothing’s left.” Head down, disappointed. “Sister, I was selfish dragging you here.”
Part of her was glad—glad the orphanage was truly gone so Bai Yanci wouldn’t see more.
Bai Yanci’s voice went heavy: “No. This room has ability residue—very faint. It’s been here years.”
She was startled. The moment she and Bai Yanci crossed the threshold, everything shifted.
Behind the door—the orphanage years ago.
Before the fire. Before Yang Yufei’s adoption.
“Don’t be afraid. It’s only an illusion.” Bai Yanci said softly. “A full illusion needs full memory. Someone at the orphanage left this for you.”
Outside the door children laughed and played, happy.
One child ran from the far hall, panting: “I saw Vice-Director Yang come back—she said she bought new toys for us!”
Another cheered: “Really! That’s great!”
“Vice-Director Yang said whoever finishes dinner first today gets to pick a toy first!”
Only phantoms—but the sight held her a long time.
Until Bai Yanci looked at her with worry, she came back and said slowly: “Ironic, isn’t it. Except Yang Yufei, no one was kind to me.”
She followed the phantoms to the cafeteria. After the children ate, Yang Yufei gave each a pink candy.
Only when everyone had swallowed did Yang Yufei smile, satisfied.