Herta's temper flared again. Asta was pushing her luck.
Asta lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Madam Herta. I lost my composure. I apologize. Deeply."
Herta sniffed. "Then go back and copy the Space Station Conduct Code. One hundred times."
Asta paled. The conduct code was a hundred thousand words. A hundred times would take her months. "Please, Madam Herta. Anything else. I'll do it."
Herta studied her. "Then stay away from Ruan Mei."
Asta shook her head. "No. I'll copy a thousand copies. Ten thousand. But I won't stay away from Madam Ruan Mei. Or from you."
Herta's eyes narrowed. Stay away from neither? Bold.
Asta quickly explained. "I mean—as station master, there are tasks I can't do without your help. The researchers too. So I can't stay away from you. And Madam Ruan Mei helps me sometimes too. So I can't stay away from her either."
Herta frowned. Asta had changed. Since Ruan Mei gave her that pendant, her humility had faded.
She was about to press further when she looked up. Ruan Mei was standing nearby, watching them both.
Herta walked to her. "How long have you been there? What did you hear?"
Ruan Mei glanced at her, then at Asta. "Not long. Nothing important."
Herta relaxed. "Good. The wedding is over. Back to the space station?"
Ruan Mei said nothing. Qingque had told her about the bouquet. The blessing. But Herta had not mentioned it.
Asta stepped forward, breaking the tension. "It's the Lantern Festival tonight. We could see the lights. Take some photos."
Herta turned to her. "You're picking up bad habits from March 7th."
Asta smiled, unfazed. She knew Herta meant her. Pink-haired. Short. She let it pass.
"Madam Ruan Mei, what do you think? The festival—lanterns, riddles, the night market..."
Ruan Mei's expression did not change. No interest.
Asta tried again. "There are two special events. The Lovers' Lock—write your names on it, and they say you'll stay together. And the Ocean Lantern—set it adrift, and fate will bind you through nine lives."
Herta scoffed. "That's just marketing. You're a station master. You believe in superstition?"
Asta muttered, low enough that Herta might not hear. "No sense of romance. No wonder you've been alone for thousands of years."
Herta heard. "What did you say?"
Asta scratched her head, smiling like Qingque. "Did I say something? I said you're unmatched in the universe."
Herta snorted and reached for her magic key.
Ruan Mei spoke first. "The festival might be nice. I'm not in a hurry."
Asta brightened. Herta sighed. "Fine. I'll go with you. Asta, you can go back to work."
Asta's face fell. "I proposed this! Herta Ninety-Nine is covering for me. I rarely get time off."
Herta shook her head. She had seen the way Asta looked at Ruan Mei. The way she talked to her. She was not taking chances.
Asta steadied herself. "Madam Herta, may I speak with you privately?"
"There's no one here. Say what you need to say."
Asta hesitated. "Someone has to take photos of you two. And the Lovers' Lock costs money. And the lanterns..."
Herta started to refuse.
Asta leaned close and whispered. "I want the same thing as Herta Ninety-Nine. I want you and Madam Ruan Mei to find your way to each other. Let me help you. You don't want to walk through the festival alone and end up arguing again, do you? Weeks of silence, months apart—you've done that before. You know how it ends."