The corridor's carpet swallowed their footsteps.
Sunlight leaked through portholes, cutting patches on the deep red carpet. She walked half a step ahead, her ash-brown-gold hair catching the light, ribbons swaying. Black over-the-knee sock hems peeked under her skirt.
Her sister stayed half a step behind, looking down. The misty-pink Lolita skirt bloomed like a flower as she walked, lace brushing above her knees. Pearl-white lace trim half-hidden in shadow.
"This girl wants to see the sea," Li Dianzi said.
She quickened her pace.
The glass corridor on Deck Seven curved from ceiling to floor, framing the sea like an oil painting. A cloud crack let sunlight leak through, carving golden slashes into the water—edges broken by waves into scattered light.
The glass became a giant mirror.
Their faces floated side by side on the transparent surface. Ash-brown-gold and pinkish-purple strands intertwined, boundaries blurring like ink in water. Light traced their outlines with a thin silver edge.
The skin in the mirror had no pores.
Like glazed porcelain, like marble polished by water. Morning light laid cold frost-white over her cheekbones, fading past her jawline into the satin choker. Her sister's skin was warmer—almond milk mixed with evaporated milk—but equally smooth, no fuzz, no texture, only a near-transparent gleam at the cheekbones.
Their lashes cast fine shadows, trembling with each blink. Brows perfectly symmetrical, as if drawn with the same brush. No extra lines. No baby hairs, no sideburns. Light fell and slid off, leaving nothing.
As if these faces were made to be covered in light.
Li Dianzi tilted her head. In the mirror, she tilted hers too, perfectly synchronized.
"Sister, look." She fogged a small circle on the glass. Inside, her features blurred, but the smooth gloss became clearer. Fog only sat on the surface.
She pressed her fingertip against the glass, meeting her sister's. In the mirror, their nails almost touched—only the glass between. Her hand a shade paler, faint blue veins like marble. Her sister's veins invisible, just warm white.
The fog softened the reflection's edges.
Li Dianzi turned the camera toward the window and panned. A seagull flew past, wings nearly brushing the glass.
"It can't get in, silly." She turned the camera back, tilting her head. "This girl is wearing misty-pink today. This Lolita dress looks so good in this light."
[chat] Here she comes 😊
[chat] Beautiful girl today ✨
[chat] The dress looks so fairy-like in this light
[chat] Daughter, look at hubby
Sunlight sliced through clouds, dragging a long patch across the glass—from her sister's shoulder to her own waist. Moving slowly, as if pushed from the other end.
A flying fish leaped closer to the ship, silver-white body turning a somersault, splashing a small blossom swallowed by waves.
Li Dianzi stared at where it disappeared, then reached into her bag, took out the squirrel, and set it on the railing facing the sea.
"Lychee, did you see that? Flying fish."
The squirrel didn't answer. Its black-bead eyes reflected the light, motionless.
She walked over and stood beside her sister. They leaned against the railing, watching the sea, silent. Sunlight cast their shadows—one long, one short.
Li Dianzi pinched her skirt edge and spun. Colorful embroidery flashed like small flowers opening. Pearl-white lace lifted with the spin, flickering. The X-shaped harness on her back tugged, revealing more skin between her shoulder blades, the shell pendant arcing.
She stopped, breathing faster, a faint pink surfacing on her cheeks—like cherry petals on white marble, ready to blow away.
"Too fast. This girl's dizzy." She pressed her forehead to the cool glass. A thin fog formed—the warmth of her breath.
She reached out to steady her sister's shoulder, fingertips touching bare skin at the harness crossing—slightly cool, like polished jade. "That's what you get."
"This girl wanted my darlings to see clearly."
"They saw clearly. The dress, the socks, the harness."
Li Dianzi looked up. A round fog-print on her forehead, like a transparent coin.
She turned to look at the sea. Sunlight leaked through cloud cracks, slicing the corridor into alternating strips of light and shadow. A seagull called, wings flapping muffled by glass.
Li Dianzi leaned against the railing, took the squirrel out, and set it facing the sea. Its fluffy tail draped over her wrist.
"Lychee, look at that boat." She pointed at a cargo ship.
The squirrel didn't answer.
"It ignores this girl too." She lifted it to eye level, stared into its black-bead eyes, then set it back.
She walked over and stood beside her sister. They leaned against the railing, silent. Sunlight cast their shadows—one long, one short.
[chat] This pink is so pretty
[chat] That lace on the socks is everything
[chat] The younger sister spinning is so sweet 💕
[chat] The mark on her forehead is adorable
"You stepped on my skirt."
Li Dianzi looked down. A shallow crease in the jet-black skirt. She quickly lifted her foot and reached to smooth it. She stepped half a step aside.
"It's fine. I'll iron it."
Li Dianzi turned the camera toward her sister. She stood backlit, silhouette blurred by a halo of light. Only fine silver thread along the black hem glinted. The Y-shaped harness traced clear lines, exposed skin gilded pale gold.
"Sister, say hi."
She glanced at the camera, corner of her mouth twitching. "Morning."
[chat] Big sister is so cool ❄️
[chat] Morning, daughter
[chat] I love this contrast
[chat] Both sisters are amazing
A seagull landed on the stainless steel railing outside, tilting its head at the camera. Li Dianzi brought her phone closer. It didn't fly away—hopped forward one step. Claws clicked on metal, wings folded, chest feathers trembling in the wind.
"Do you want to come in?"
The seagull tilted its head again. Its black-bead eyes reflected the glass corridor.
"It doesn't understand you."
"What if it does?"
"Even if it does, it won't answer."
——That seagull never flew away. It was waiting for something.
Her smile faded. She said nothing, just took the phone and continued pointing it at the sea.
She walked toward the little girl. Her heels clicked on the glass floor. She crouched to eye level.
"What are you looking at?"
The girl didn't turn, eyes fixed on the sea. "Waiting for flying fish."
"Flying fish?"
"Yeah. Mama said flying fish can fly, and their wings are shiny."
Her voice was soft. She looked at the sea too—golden points dancing. No flying fish.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"I don't know."
The girl finally turned. Big eyes, dark brown pupils reflecting the sea. Lips dry, cheeks windburned.
"Are you alone?"
"Mama's over there." She waved vaguely.
She didn't see anyone. She kept the camera on the sea but angled the microphone toward them.
A silver-white light leaped from the sea. A fish burst out, body gleaming like a mirror, thin fins spread like wings, gliding over ten meters before falling back.
"Flying fish!" The girl's voice held pure surprise.
She turned to share with Li Dianzi—but her smile lasted only a second. First she saw Li Dianzi's face, then the empty corridor behind. Her smile faded.
"Mama's gone," she said softly. Not asking—telling herself. Her small shoulders tensed.
Li Dianzi touched her head. "Mama's coming right away. This girl will wait with you."
The girl didn't pull away, but didn't speak. She turned back to the sea. She turned her camera from the sea toward the corridor.
A young woman ran up. Light blue dress, a dark coffee stain—fresh, edges bleeding. A plastic bag hung from her wrist with two bottles of water and crackers, handles leaving red marks. She was out of breath, bending with hands on knees.
She had seen this woman on the first day. That coffee stain wasn't from today.
"Xiaoyu, Mama told you not to run off." Her tone wasn't harsh, but her voice shook.
The girl didn't answer, just grabbed her mother's skirt hem.
The young woman straightened, looked at Li Dianzi, forced a smile. "Thank you, little miss. She disappears the second I turn around."
Li Dianzi shook her head. "It's fine. Xiaoyu was very good. She was just waiting for flying fish."
"Did you see one?" The woman looked down at her daughter.
"I saw one! Its wings were shiny!" The girl's voice came back, shoulders relaxing.
The woman smiled, tucked her daughter's windblown hair behind her ear. Her hand shook—just slightly, but Li Dianzi saw.
Li Dianzi's gaze fell on the plastic bag. "Are you still rushing to an interview?"
The woman paused, pushing the bag further up her arm. "Yes. There's still time, the light's still early."
Li Dianzi pulled a small silver bottle from her bag. She unscrewed the cap, pretending to spritz perfume, but her thumb pressed a different nozzle. Cool minty water sprayed into the woman's face. She flinched, eyes closing, shoulders shrinking.
"Oh my, this perfume is new. This girl pressed the wrong button." Li Dianzi tucked the bottle back, voice syrupy. "Refreshing, isn't it? You won't be sleepy during your interview."
The woman wiped her face, a wry smile. "Yes, quite refreshing."
"Are you traveling alone with her?"
"Her father's out of town." She gripped her daughter's hand tighter. "I'm used to it. After a while, your body just knows." Her tone flat, like talking about the weather.
"Let's go." She took her daughter's hand.
The girl was pulled along two steps, then turned back and waved at Li Dianzi. Li Dianzi waved back. She handed the phone to her sister; the camera still recording.
They disappeared around the corner. The woman's skirt flickered, the coffee stain very dark.
[chat] Daughter is so kind 😭
[chat] That little girl is adorable
[chat] I hope she's always happy
[chat] Mama works hard 🙏
Li Dianzi turned the camera back to herself and smiled. "I hope Xiaoyu always has someone with her when she watches the sea."
She stood beside her sister, silent. She looked down at her skirt. The crease from her sister's step was already smoothed. Black fabric showed no trace.
A voice came from nearby. "What do you two do?"
A blonde tourist held up her phone, livestream on screen, camera pointed at them. She shoved it almost into Xiaoyu's face; the girl shrank back. Her clear phone case held a cruise ticket.
She glanced at her. "Fashion bloggers."
The woman paused, then smiled. "Oh, little misses, can I get a photo with you?"
"Sure." Li Dianzi moved closer, shoulder pressing against her sister's arm, body heat traveling through the Lolita fabric.
The woman held up her phone, front camera framing the three. She pressed the shutter several times, changing angles.
"Thanks, thanks. This one's good. This one too."
As she flipped through her photos, Li Dianzi caught a glimpse—mostly selfies and ship food. And one more: in the corridor, a little girl on tiptoes leaning over the railing, watching the sea. Xiaoyu. Not her face, just her back. Two little buns, a yellow dress, alone in an empty corridor.
Li Dianzi's smile didn't change, but her eyes lingered on that photo for one second.
The woman put her phone away, waved. "Have fun, you two." Then turned and walked off.
Her hand rested on Li Dianzi's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.
Li Dianzi turned to look at her. She wasn't looking at her sister—she stared at the curved glass wall at the end of the corridor. Sunlight leaked through a cloud crack, cutting a thin strip of light across the glass. A faint rainbow shimmered at the edge—like a soap bubble's color, disappearing just as quickly.