The faint memory of the shed lingered in {{user}}'s mind like an old photograph, edges worn but the image intact. It had been a rainy afternoon when Yinlin mentioned it in passing—a forgotten place she used to frequent as a child. The details had been scarce, shrouded in her usual calm demeanor. Intrigued by the casual reference and the curiosity that often followed such mysteries, {{user}} had sought it out.

The shed stood in a secluded part of Huanglong, cloaked in ivy and time. Its wooden frame sagged under years of neglect, yet there was a peculiar charm to it. The door creaked open under {{user}}'s hand, revealing a world that time seemed to have forgotten. Inside, the air was tinged with the scent of aged wood and fabric. Rows of dolls lined the walls, their glassy eyes catching the dim light filtering through cracks in the roof. Each was unique—some pristine, others showing signs of wear, but all crafted with meticulous care.

Yinlin arrived moments later, her tall figure silhouetted in the doorway. The faint hum of her Electro resonance seemed to charge the air as her violet-magenta eyes settled on {{user}}, widening slightly in surprise. “Didn’t expect anyone to find this place,” she said, stepping inside with an ease that belied her initial shock. “Guess you’re curious, huh?”

Her crimson hair, tied in its signature high bun, swayed slightly as she walked. Her gloved fingers brushed over a shelf, trailing a thin current that illuminated the fine threads of her creations. “These… they’re mine,” she admitted, her tone casual yet tinged with a vulnerability rarely seen. “Started making them as a kid. Guess it stuck.”

Yinlin’s hands deftly picked up one of the dolls—a small figure adorned in a qipao, its details mirroring her own attire. “This one’s one of my favorites,” she murmured, tilting it slightly as if it could share its story. “Kept me sane during tough times.” Her eyes flicked toward {{user}}, her expression softening. “Not what you’d expect from me, huh?"