The hissing rose like a storm. Every snake had an opinion—and apparently a very loud one.
Yao Yao slammed the fork against the table. "Enough! One at a time!"
The clang rang through the dome, shattering the noise instantly. Dozens of heads turned toward her, blinking in unison like a class caught talking during roll call.
"Line up," she ordered, pointing the fork. "We're doing this properly."
They hesitated, trading wary glances before reluctantly slithering into a crooked line across the dirt, like a parade of overgrown noodles waiting for inspection.
Still crouched on the chair, skirt bunched around her knees, she adjusted her footing and raised the fork again. "Good. Now answer in order."
Her eyes landed on the first one in line—a green snake with gleaming scales and far too much confidence. "You. If this man and I both fell into the sea and couldn't swim, who would you save?"
The snake lifted its head proudly. "You, obviously. You're radiant. Beautiful. Brimming with potential."
Yao Yao blinked. "…Radiant?"
"I sensed it immediately," it said smoothly. "Your aura shines brighter than the sun."
Behind her, Rui pressed a knuckle to his mouth, shoulders shaking.
She eyed the snake. Too smooth. "Liar." Her hand cut left through the air. "Go to the left. Next."
"What?! I was complimenting you!"
"You started with obviously. Red flag. Left."
It slithered off sulking. Yao Yao didn't bother watching. She'd seen that too many times. Men like that always sounded convincing at first. Then comes the heartbreak—or the debt. Years of observation had taught her enough.
The next snake darted forward before the last tail had even disappeared. "I'd save you, of course! You're so light and cute—your eyes sparkle, and I'd feel terrible leaving a helpless child—"
"Liar," she said immediately, flicking her hand left again.
It froze, mouth still open.
Rui raised a brow. "You're not even letting them finish."
"They don't have to." She pointed the fork right at its nose. "I can tell. Left. Next."
Another slithered up, glaring briefly at the rejected pile before turning back to her with a grin that was far too wide. "I'd save him!" it declared, tail flicking toward the Spirit King.
The sudden enthusiasm made her lean back on instinct, fork raised like a shield. "Left."
"What? But I didn't even choose you!"
"Exactly. Too eager."
Her fork tapped against her knee as it slithered away, sulking. The eager ones were always the worst—acting detached until they latched on. Give them an inch and they'd be under your window humming about destiny. Next thing you know, you're calling the cops.
A red snake came next, scales shining like lacquer under the light. "Forget logic," it announced grandly. "I'd hold you close and never let you sink. My tail is strong—literally."
As if to prove it, its tail curled into the shape of a tiny flexing arm.
Yao Yao stared at the tip, face twisting. "…That's creepy." Her fork tilted left.
The snake deflated and slithered away, its tail drooping like a wilted flower while a few others snickered behind it.
Rui followed it with his eyes, expression blank. My tail is strong? He shut his eyes and rubbed his temple. At this point, he was done trying to understand.
Then two more came forward together, talking over each other.
"I'd save you!"
"No, I would save you first!"
They started hissing and snapping their tails at each other.
"Both of you—left," she said. "Too loud and desperate."
They fell silent and dragged themselves away in opposite directions.
Her arm was starting to ache from swiping, but she stayed crouched on the chair like a commander in a very dumb war. Every flick of her hand carried the weary confidence of someone who'd survived one too many bad profiles and now trusted instinct over logic.
Rui muttered beside her, "At this rate, none will pass."
She didn't look away. "That's just reality. Not every snake deserves a match."
After what felt like an eternity of rejections, the dome had gone quiet. Only the faint scrape of scales and her own breathing filled the air. Her arm throbbed from overuse, her hand trembling each time she lifted the fork again.
Across the table, the Spirit King still hadn't moved. Chin propped on one hand, he watched like someone quietly enjoying a play. Each new answer pulled his mouth a little higher, as if he were fighting not to laugh.
Then, a silver snake glided forward, smooth and theatrical. "You," it said, "are like moonlight upon blue waters. To save you would be to save beauty itself."
Her eyes twitched. "Left."
Another came right after. "My heart beats faster at your courage, your wit, your—"
"Left."
"—your voice like—"
"Left!"
The next one lifted its head solemnly. "If drowning meant dying beside you, I'd call it destiny."
She blinked, horrified. "…That's not romantic. That's a cry for help. Left!"
And it just kept going.
"I'd weave my tail into a raft for you!"
"I'd drink the sea dry if it meant your safety!"
"Your eyes, they're bright like—"
"Left, left, left!"
By now, nearly all of them were writhing in a rejected heap on her left. The few still waiting looked terrified, peeking out nervously like they'd rather sink than speak
Yao Yao let the fork droop in her grip, the muscles in her arm twitching. For a second, she wasn't even sure what she was doing anymore.
Rui's voice came quietly, almost like a reminder. "Do they even remember what the question was?"
Yao Yao froze, staring down at the chaos below. Dozens of snakes were hissing verses and declarations, one even spelling her name with its body.
Her grip loosened on the fork. "…I think I forgot too."
Rui turned to her. "You what?"
She stared blankly at the sea of scales below. Somewhere between the compliments and the bad poetry, her brain just gave up, leaving her running on muscle memory and irritation.
The Spirit King's laughter finally broke loose, echoing through the dome. He leaned back, one hand covering his mouth, shoulders shaking as the sound spilled out unrestrained.
Yao Yao snapped her head toward him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
He didn't even pretend otherwise. "Immensely."
Before she could fire back, a smaller sound came from beside her—a soft hiss, almost like a laugh.
She froze, then turned.
A small yellow snake was coiled neatly along the chair's armrest, head tilted, tongue flicking near her elbow. It had been there for who knows how long.
And it was laughing.
Tiny hisses came out in rhythm, the sound eerily similar to the Spirit King's laugh—just a higher pitch.
Her mouth fell open. "You—when did you get here?!"
The snake blinked up at her innocently. "You looked lonely," it said. "And the view's good from here."
Her jaw dropped further. "Get off!"
"Or what?"
She leaned forward, fork raised. "Left."
The snake giggled and slid down the chair. "You really have trust issues," it said as it vanished under the table.
Beside her, the Spirit King laughed again—louder this time, turned slightly away like he couldn't stop.
"Stop laughing!" she snapped. "You made these things!"
"I did," he said between breaths, "and for once, I think they turned out better than expected."
She dropped the fork with a clatter against the plate. "I hate this trial."
Rui followed the yellow snake's tail as it vanished beneath the table—only to catch a glint of gold reappearing on the other side. The same snake was already climbing the left armrest, tongue flicking lazily, not even trying to hide.
He watched it for a long moment, then glanced toward the Spirit King. The man sat in the same posture, smirking faintly as he watched the chaos below. For a second, the air between them almost matched.
Rui sighed under his breath. "…Seriously."
Yao Yao turned, frowning. "What?"
She followed his gaze—and jumped. "You! Again?!"
The yellow snake tilted its head, letting out a small giggle.
"I told you to get off!" she snapped, flicking a finger at it.
It didn't move, only flicked its tongue out in defiance, its tail still wrapped around the armrest as it looked up at her with a smile.
Yao Yao stared back, shoulders rising with a slow breath before she gave up. "Fine," she said. "You win."
"So what about you, who would you save?"
The snake blinked once, head tilting the other way. "Depends," it said. "What do I get in return?"
Yao Yao frowned. "What do you mean, what do you get?"
"You're both strangers," it said, curling a little tighter around the armrest. "Why should I save either of you for free?"
She hesitated, trying to come up with something that didn't sound stupid. In the end, she just pointed toward the Spirit King. "Maybe your boss would reward you."
The snake turned its head toward him and froze, tongue half-out, body suddenly still. A heartbeat passed before it jerked back, flicking fast. "Well, I'm too small to save anyone," it said quickly. "So leave me out of it."
Before she could say anything, it slid down the chair and vanished into the vines below.
Yao Yao leaned forward, the chair creaking beneath her. "Wait—hey! You!"
Her voice echoed through the glass dome and faded into the greenery. Only the vines swayed now where its tail had disappeared.