If there was one thing Li Lin was even more unwilling to admit, it was this:
Mostima was not his type. She wasn't even within his "defensive range."
And yet, she always managed to fire off the exact kind of straight-ball play that hit him where he was weakest.
For example—
Up until now, aside from official business, mandatory errands, and necessary shopping, Li Lin had never once heard anyone invite him out for a simple walk.
Usually there was an agenda: sparring, training, procurement, classes, or even setting up a stall.
But an invitation with no purpose at all—just going out, wandering around, looking at Lungmen's scenery—no one had ever asked him to do that.
It wasn't that he never went out with anyone.
It was that this kind of invitation—purely wanting to be together—had never happened.
Truthfully, Li Lin had entertained himself more than once with the fantasy that he might be "Penguin Logistics' harem king."
Everyone dressed so casually, acted so naturally—maybe they liked him and were waiting for him to notice. Maybe one day he'd even end up happily sharing a bed with all of them and live out his life in bliss.
Unfortunately, dreams were still just dreams.
After Sora's piano practice there had been a few moments—close enough that they were practically leaning into each other—but there was never anything beyond that.
Texas was even more straightforward: she was a friend who would take a knife for you, but that was the end of it.
Honestly, there were a few times when Li Lin looked at Texas, and she seemed to understand naturally—nodding, opening her arms like she meant to comfort him—and Li Lin felt that if he took advantage of that moment, he would be less than human.
She cared about you, protected you, wanted you to pull yourself together…
And your brain was only thinking about "repressed living."
Wasn't that a bit too much?
So, summing it up, the conclusion was—
The one who could invite him out with that kind of intimacy, and repeatedly hand him moments that felt like fantasies turning real…
Was Mostima.
How was it Mostima?
Why was it always Mostima?
And worst of all—he couldn't refuse this kind of invitation.
"Hmm… ah, this one's pretty good. What do you think? For Little Le?"
"…Do you really have to ask my opinion when you're buying lingerie?"
"Huh? Don't you live together? What's wrong with asking?" Mostima smiled with maddening calm. "And you're going to be seeing more of it in the future anyway, so of course I should reference your opinion."
"How can you smear someone's innocence like that?"
"You've never seen it? That kid Little Le is pretty… free-spirited."
"…Pick the black one."
"Got it."
"…You're actually picking it?"
"Hm? You picked lingerie for Little Le—she might be happy, you know. Hardly anyone buys her gifts." Mostima handed a set of lace lingerie to the clerk like this was the most normal thing in the world. "And it's not a big deal, right?"
"I—"
Li Lin watched her maintain that serene smile while committing social warfare in broad daylight and felt his blood pressure spike.
This kind of person was truly unbearable: the sort who wore a calm, confident expression as if they had already confirmed you'd done something you hadn't.
And the worst part was—
You couldn't even argue back.
Also, the size seemed a bit too big.
But Li Lin stared at it for a long while and didn't dare say that out loud.
To escape the awkwardness, he could only stand there and look into the mirror beside him.
And what he saw reflected there was even more unbelievable.
Mostima, travel-worn in a black long coat, was lowering her head and choosing lingerie. Li Lin, also in a black coat, stood beside her.
Two similarly bland faces. Two half-smiles that weren't quite smiles. Two pairs of faintly hollow eyes.
While Li Lin was still lost in the mirror, Mostima lifted her head, brushed back the blue hair at her temple, and—wearing that same ambiguous smile—held up another set of lingerie in front of herself and looked at him.
"Hey. This one works too, right? What do you think?"
"Do you have to show me?"
"Fun."
"More like bad taste."
Watching Mostima chuckle softly while casually holding lingerie up for comparison, Li Lin felt increasingly uncomfortable with what the mirror was suggesting.
How to put it…
It gave him a feeling that something was about to go very wrong.
Then, in the next instant, that unpleasant premonition became reality.
"Excuse me—are you two a couple?"
Cameras and microphones surged past the doorway in a rush—then screeched to a stop.
A beautifully dressed Liberi host in semi-transparent clothing halted, took one look at Li Lin and Mostima, and lit up as if she'd found treasure. She strode right over and shoved a microphone forward.
"Hello! We're from the 'Couple Moments' project team. Could you spare a few minutes for a quick interview?"
"Which part of me looks like I'm a couple with this—"
"Now, now, don't get so worked up." Mostima laughed and blocked Li Lin, turning to the host with a warm, polite smile. "Isn't this interesting? They're saying we're a couple. So we really look like that?"
"Temperament, the way you move, how you think… you seem very similar," the host said, still puzzled by the tension.
"Ah, um…"
Then she hesitated and asked the obvious question again:
"So… you're not a couple?"
"Not!" Li Lin snapped.
"Yes," Mostima said at the exact same time.
"Oh, I see! So it's like… a karmic entanglement kind of relationship?"
"Karmic entanglement my ass—are you insane?"
"Don't mind him," Mostima said lightly. "He's always like this."
"You—"
Li Lin tried to resist, but resistance didn't achieve much.
Maybe Sora or the others would have panicked, but for some reason, Mostima always managed to stay exactly on the line—never far enough to make you explode for real.
The interview ended quickly.
A woman who controlled time was not something Li Lin could fight.
And more unexpectedly—Mostima had an enormous amount of enthusiasm for messing with other people.
If anything, she was, at heart, still a very proper Sankta: she possessed a frightening talent for pulling pranks with a perfectly serious face.
As expected of a bad-movie enthusiast who made her friends watch terrible films all day.
"…Ah. In the end, we still didn't pass."
A few minutes later, watching the production team leave, Mostima sat in a chair and sighed with some regret.
"I thought our chemistry could clear the final stage. Who knew your physical condition was this bad, Li Lin."
"Can you not compare a desk worker to a Catastrophe Messenger?" Li Lin slumped, aching from the waist down, looking like he'd been drained dry. "And I don't think I have any 'chemistry' with you."
"Mhm. This is fine too." Mostima smiled faintly. "Thank you. I'm really happy."
She looked at Li Lin—still unable to stand properly—then pulled several letters from her coat and placed them, along with the shopping bag, into his hands.
Li Lin glared at her with all the murderous intent a civil servant could muster.
Mostima, however, kept that calm smile. She lowered her head and leaned in close.
Pssst.
A small spray misted out.
She set the sprayer down on the table, stepped back, and watched Li Lin struggle upright, smiling.
"Honestly… you're willing to accompany me in venting, every time. Sometimes, only after doing this can I move on to the next journey."
Then she spoke gently.
"This is a farewell gift. Take it."
Goodbye.
Light and shadow shifted.
In Li Lin's surprised gaze, Mostima dissolved into the endless crowd—vanishing in the blink of an eye.
All that remained was the bag of gifts, the letters…
And the faintly scented spray bottle, gleaming on the tabletop.
"…?"
What exactly did that woman come here for?
Li Lin stared at everything in front of him, utterly unable to understand.
It wasn't until he carried the bag back to the apartment that it finally clicked.
Texas took a sniff.
Her expression changed instantly.
Only then did Li Lin realize what Mostima's "farewell gift" actually was.
....
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