Consciousness rose from a long, deep tremor.
The tremor came from beneath my body – the after‑shock of massive machinery – and reached my skin through the mattress.
The air was quiet. Only the faint hum of the air‑circulation system, and the low roar of the sea being split by the ship's bow, muffled by the deck.
Beside me came the sound of even breathing.
I opened my eyes. The room was dark. The blackout curtains blocked all light from outside, leaving only a thin silver line at the bottom.
I stared at that line for a few seconds, then reached for the smooth, cool surface of the bedside table and touched it lightly. The curtains slid open slowly.
Light poured in as the gap widened. First diluted grey, then pale gold softened by sea mist, then the full view outside the floor‑to‑ceiling window unfolded.
The sea. Lead‑grey, endless, merging with the lead‑grey sky in the distance. The ship cut steadily through this grey‑blue vastness, leaving a long white wake behind.
Behind me came a muffled murmur. I did not turn.
"Awake?"
"Not awake. I'm still sleeping." The voice was muffled in the pillow, soft and sweet, as if freshly scooped from a honey jar.
The mattress shifted. Dianzi turned over, buried her face deeper into the pillow, and wrapped herself into a cocoon with only a few strands of purple‑pink hair showing.
I withdrew my gaze and sat up. "Didn't you say you wanted to watch the morning sea?"
"That was Sister's idea. I only said I would cooperate."
I glanced at her. The corners of my mouth lifted slightly. "You've always known how to leave room for yourself. Saying that meant you didn't want to get up."
A muffled laugh came from under the duvet. "Sister knows best."
I said nothing more. I raised my hand and brushed my fingers over the Lingguang Xihuan on my left wrist – a wristband that glowed faintly and could store small items.
A soft hum vibrated against my skin. The air around my wrist grew cool, then warm, as a faint silver‑white light flickered from the band. Two neatly folded sets of clothes materialised in my palm, the fabric still holding the slight chill of wherever they had been stored.
I unfolded them and laid them on the bed.
The first set was a jet‑black lolita dress. The skirt spread into a bell shape, covered with dark embroidered patterns. Fine silver thread traced vine patterns that only shimmered when the light hit. The top was a fitted waistcoat design, wine‑red ribbons crossing at the front and tying into delicate bows over the chest. The collar was a stand‑up style, edged with fine lace.
Black over‑the‑knee stockings, cuffs stopping twelve centimetres above the knee, edged with a ring of silver thread. Beside them, a pair of black patent leather high heels with nine‑centimetre stiletto heels, a small silver bow on the toe.
The other set lay beside it. A misty‑pink lolita dress, like the first drop of dew on a morning rose. The front ribbons were bright purple, tied into an even cuter bow. The embroidery on the skirt was colourful flowers, lively and bright.
White over‑the‑knee stockings, cuffs edged with mother‑of‑pearl lace. Beside them, a pair of nude pink high heels with nine‑centimetre stiletto heels, a pearl on the toe.
The cocoon on the bed stirred. A strand of purple‑pink hair emerged from under the duvet, then half a face, one eye still heavy with sleep.
"Sister, you picked them out?"
"I did." I hung both sets on the hooks inside the wardrobe door. "If you don't get up soon, this light will solidify. You'll have to eat it with a spoon."
"Perfect. I can skip breakfast and just drink the light. Zero calories and no dishes."
A pause of two seconds.
The mattress shifted more strongly. Dianzi finally sat up, her hair a mess, her bathrobe belt half undone.
"But my morning cannot be skipped." She mumbled, rubbing her eyes as she walked over. "If the light really turns into pudding, I'll cut it in half – one for you, one for me. Then pour some sea salt caramel sauce on top."
I stepped aside. She stopped rubbing her eyes.
"Lolita today?"
"Of course. To match you."
"After we put these on, people will probably say, 'Wife, why are you so princess today?'"
I looked into her eyes, my fingertips brushing the stray hairs from her forehead. "Princess it is then. Today you are strawberry‑flavoured."
She hesitated, then laughed. A soft laugh, muffled by the bathroom door closing.
After Dianzi finished washing up and changed into the misty‑pink lolita, I changed into my jet‑black one. We stood side by side before the full‑length mirror.
Two figures wrapped in fine fabric. Jet‑black and misty‑pink. The same bell‑shaped skirts, the same ribbon bows. Her lively brightness, my quiet sharpness.
The silver thread embroidery on my jet‑black dress glowed faintly in the morning light.
Around my neck was a black satin choker, a dark blue crystal set in the centre, edged with tiny white gold fragments – like a relic of some ancient ritual. Above my left collarbone hung a silver teardrop pendant, its surface etched with extremely fine lines.
The Lingguang Xihuan on my left wrist gave off a very faint cold light.
From my earlobes dangled slender silver ear threads, ending in rice‑grain‑sized black obsidian. They flashed a dark spark when the light turned.
Wine‑red ribbons were woven through my ash‑gold gradient long curls, intertwining through the strands. At the end of the ribbons was a silver gear hairpin the size of a fingernail, the gear teeth worn smooth.
On my back, thin Y‑shaped straps forked from between my shoulder blades toward each shoulder. A small silver gear hung at the intersection on my spine, its teeth catching the morning light.
On her side, the colourful embroidery on the misty‑pink skirt looked as if it had been picked from a garden.
Dianzi's purple‑pink gradient long hair was pinned in a fluffy bun at the back of her head, a wisp of bangs hanging down on each side. Mother‑of‑pearl hair clips shimmered with iridescence in the light.
Around her neck, two fine chains layered – one silver, one rose gold. The pendants were two tiny clear crystals, one teardrop‑shaped, one round, clicking softly against each other when she spoke.
On her left wrist, two fine chains layered, matching the necklaces. Around her left ankle, barely visible, an extremely thin anklet strung with rice‑grain‑sized pink crystals, flashing a glint of light as she gently rose onto her toes.
On her back, thin X‑shaped straps crossed below her shoulder blades. A small pearl‑white shell hung at the intersection, its surface glowing with a soft lustre.
I picked up the cross‑body bag from the bedside table – Avenor limited edition, deep wine‑red velvet with embossed patterns, the gold clasp flashing in the morning light.
——Let me see. From now on, who are the targets?
My fingertip brushed the satin choker around my neck. The dark blue crystal brightened slightly, and a semi‑transparent floating interface projected from the choker. The crystal was the main camera, the pendant hid a tiny microphone, and even the hair clips and earrings had pinhole lenses embedded. The livestream lens automatically turned towards the sea and me.
"Good morning, my treasures." I turned my head slightly, my voice soft and sweet, like the first sip of warm water after waking. "This young lady and Dianzi woke up earlier than the seagulls."
[chat] Here we are 😊
[chat] That jet‑black set is amazing
[chat] The misty‑pink set is so ethereal ✨
[chat] Another day of being woken up by beauty
I turned slightly, letting the morning light outline the silhouette of my skirt. Outside the window, a seagull flew low over the waves, its wings almost brushing the water. The distant horizon was wrapped in a pale gold glow, the line between sea and sky blurred into one.
"I heard this cruise ship has thirty‑six types of bread for breakfast," Dianzi said, leaning close to the floating interface, her soft voice carrying the lazy warmth of just having woken up. "This young lady has decided to start from the first and try all the way to the thirty‑sixth."
She turned the lens towards the window, sweeping across the long white wake. The wake glittered in the morning light, like someone had scattered silver coins into the sea. A few seagulls followed the wake, occasionally diving down to snatch small stunned fish.
I reached out and adjusted the shell on her back. My fingertips touched her bare skin, and her shoulders flinched slightly.
"Sister, that tickles."
"The shell was crooked."
"Let it be crooked. No one will see it anyway."
"I see it."
She didn't answer, just leaned her head back and rubbed it against my shoulder.
[chat] Princess levels off the charts
[chat] Mum loves it ❤️
[chat] The shell is so delicate
[chat] Sisters' interaction is so sweet
"A young lady who eats too much will need to digest," I said, turning the lens back to myself, my voice soft and sweet. "Otherwise someone might have to carry her back to the room."
"Sister, if you say that, how can I keep my image?" Dianzi shot me a glare, but the corners of her mouth were already curved. She pinched the fabric at her waist.
"You can keep your image later. Carbs must be eaten while they're hot."
"All right." Dianzi clapped her hands. "Next, we'll go eat breakfast. Then we'll visit the glass corridor. I hear the light there is especially good."
"Yes," I said, turning sideways to let the interface capture the corridor behind us. "The ship might be a little bumpy on the way. Bear with us, my treasures."
She raised the lens higher, sweeping across the curved glass window at the end of the corridor. Sunlight poured in through the window, casting a bright patch on the dark red carpet.
I waved at the interface, my fingertip brushing the choker. The blue light dimmed, and the floating interface disappeared silently. The room suddenly became quiet. Outside the window, the line between sea and sky had fully brightened.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out. A new text message. The sender was a string of numbers I had not saved. I opened it.
There will be wind and waves on the sea today. Be careful.
I stared at the line for two seconds, then turned the phone over, screen down, and placed it on the bedside table.
"Let's go," Dianzi said.
"Yes, let's go." I stood up, smoothing my skirt. The deep wine‑red cross‑body bag swung at my hip, the gold clasp making a soft click.
I glanced one last time at the window. Light poured in, brightening the whole room. Seagulls flew over the sea.
The door closed behind us. The fluorescent tubes in the corridor hummed. The carpet absorbed all footsteps.