“Hit the Church? How do you plan to do that?”

It felt like a hassle, but she took the bait anyway. Lian Hua wore a spring-bright smile, as if seeing through fog.

“Artifact Spirits are the Church’s own creations. Turning against their womb could be fun. Don’t forget your Artifact Spirits in war.”

“The Church was set on using you. You burn in the fire while they harvest calm like fishermen at dawn.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious? If the Church joined that war, would they still have the muscle to stir waves now?”

“So, to keep the scales level, I think you should add a weight.”

“That’s a shame. I’m not interested. Don’t drag me into your plan. Power games bore me like dust on old books.”

“I’ve seen enough. It’s not my business.”

“...You refuse fast.”

“Of course. I don’t care about your ‘hit the Church.’ I’m no longer with the Clan Head’s people.”

“Even if the Church threatens the Clan Head, I won’t care. And I’m with the Magic Institution, but its fate is the wind to me.”

She shrugged, careless as a leaf in rain.

She had her reasons, and she didn’t ask for understanding. If they wanted to play, that was their sea to swim.

She was a traitor; a muddy hand shouldn’t stir this pond.

“But I need power.”

Her voice carried a thin plea, like rain tapping paper windows. She clearly wanted Yun Shi on her side.

“Asagi Renka, we aren’t that close. I won’t do it. And don’t think the Underworld ignores me, so you can net me.”

“I like walking alone, like a cat on a wall.”

“You might be a talent, sure.”

“Not much. My urge for fighting burned out like embers. Humans are always fighting, aren’t they?”

“Yunshi Bianqi, sometimes I doubt you’re only fifteen. You talk like someone dusted by too many years.”

“...”

With two lifetimes of memory, Yun Shi had walked long roads. She rarely showed it, but it glinted in moments like this.

“Forget it. If you won’t join, I won’t force you. I have other paths.”

“After all, there isn’t just one Artifact Spirit under the sky.”

Lian Hua spread her hands, casual as drifting clouds. A wicked glint cut her gaze like a knife-edge.

Yun Shi’s heart tightened like a drumskin. She stood, ignoring the blanket sliding off her like soft snow.

She glared at Lian Hua, fur bristling like a cornered cat.

“You plan to use Miyuki Kiseki?”

Her eyes threw thorns. The other smiled, playful as a fox, and kept silent.

“Asagi Renka, you know who she is. She’s dumb, naive, speechless at times, unreliable, and weak.”

“And she rushes into shellfire like she doesn’t need a heartbeat.”

“But that kind of idiot is incurably an idiot. Precisely because of that, she lowers her guard like an open window.”

“That’s who she is. So don’t use her. She’s just a harmless fool, useless as a paper sword.”

Without noticing, a plea threaded Yun Shi’s words, soft as a reed in wind. Why speak for her? Yun Shi couldn’t explain.

She only felt she couldn’t let it slide, like seeing a child by a river.

“Oh my, you really care about Mizuki. I’m jealous. A girl with someone who cares like this—how lucky.”

Chin propped, Lian Hua tossed a teasing wink, voice sticky-sweet as honey. Yun Shi stood steady, calm as still water.

“Relax. I won’t use Mizuki. We have history. Explaining I’m with the Clan Head is a pain, but rest easy.”

“If she doesn’t agree to my plan, I won’t push. No blades against friends.”

Seeing Yun Shi still on edge, the tiger in her eyes awake, Lian Hua explained. The little cat’s guard was high as a fence.

“My plan is to gather people. Voluntary, open door. I don’t force chains on anyone.”

“...Fine. Given that, I can consider your plan.”

She sat again, pulled the blanket tight like a winter cloak, wearing an air of distance.

Lian Hua bloomed inside, joy like a flower opening. So Mizuki is your reverse scale—this came easier than rain.

She only said “consider,” but the play still had actors. Lian Hua was satisfied, warmth like tea in her chest.

“Then, may we work well together, Yunshi Bianqi.”

“Hmph.”

Yun Shi kept a sour face, but her hand met Lian Hua’s. Ice touching silk; the contrast stung like spice.

Lian Hua’s hand was slender and soft, a mature woman’s willow leaf. Yun Shi’s was small and porcelain.

Inwardly, she cursed, beauty that brings ruin.

The talk ended like a lantern going out. Lian Hua smiled, gaze hot as midsummer.

Yun Shi thought she’d pounce again. She covered her chest, guarding like a bird over eggs, eyes sharp.

“By the way, Yun, what kind of clothes do you like?”

“White shirts... wait, when did you change how you address me?”

“Is that bad? I heard you like nicknames more than given names.”

“I never said that.”

“Really? ‘Yun’ has more girl’s bloom than ‘Yun Shi,’ doesn’t it?”

“...Call me whatever you like.”

She didn’t plan to wrestle with names. She’d always preferred nicknames. Sham calls her Yun, and Mizuki too.

If Lian Hua wanted the nickname, so be it.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

Sensing the end, Shizuru Yuna, who’d waited outside like a quiet pine, came in with tea again.

The misunderstanding had cleared like mist. She no longer watched her lady with wary eyes.

“Sit, Yuna. See to the guest,” Lian Hua said, smiling like morning light.

“Yes, Miss.”

Yuna obeyed, steam curling like snakes from the teapot. She took a seat, composed as a lacquered table.

Seeing Yun Shi’s puzzled look, Lian Hua explained.

“She’s Yuna. You know her. My friend, and family.”

“We more or less know each other. We meet on the rankings often. I’m Shizuru Yuna. Hello, Yunshi Bianqi.”

“Yeah, I know. First-year top seat. Who wouldn’t?”

Yun Shi sipped the fresh tea, calm as a pond. Yuna didn’t mind; she carried herself like polished jade.

She did what a ‘maid’ does, hands precise as calligraphy strokes.

“Yun doesn’t seem very interested in Yuna. You’re both first-years. Talk a bit.”

“She’s also Mizuki’s friend in the Student Council.”

As expected, Yun Shi’s hackles quivered, a cat flicking tail.

“Mm. I’m Mizuki’s friend. I’ve heard her mention you. She says you take care of her.”

Yuna smiled, soft as dawn. She thanked Yun Shi, words warm as coals.

Yun Shi stalled for a heartbeat. Being thanked by such a cute girl felt like sugar too strong.

“You and Miyuki Kiseki are really close, huh.”

She sipped tea, bitterness like burnt leaves. Regret pricked her tongue as soon as it left.

What am I doing! Why am I acting like a jealous little girl!

Her heart howled like a stray dog under moonlight. Her face stayed still, granite-calm.

Lian Hua’s smile turned wicked, a fox’s grin at night.

“No hidden meaning. Mizuki and I are just same-year friends. You’ll join the Student Council. Remember to call me your senior.”

Yuna didn’t tangle with it, cool as shade. She seemed a bold girl, wind in her steps.

But Yun Shi bristled, a spark catching dry twigs.

“Why should I call you senior? Not a chance.”

“First, I’m the top seat. You’re only third. Second, you’re younger.”

“I’m being kind not making you call me ‘big sis.’”

Shizuru Yuna was such a “nice” person. She laid things bare like knives on the table.

A guy would grin hearing it; Yun Shi fumed, smoke in her chest.

“Sorry I’m younger, okay!”

Age is a hard iron bar. Her mind was older than everyone here.

But her body’s age was smaller than anyone’s, a sapling among trees.

“Hahaha. Yun and Yuna get along so well. I’ll get jealous.”

“Yes, thank you for your concern, Miss.”

“Who’s getting along with her!”

Hearing their clash, Lian Hua’s smile deepened, tide rising. If they bond, it will help down the road.

“You only snagged the top seat for a moment. I’ll snatch it next time.”

Yun Shi sat with a huff, words sharp as needles. Yuna’s mood darkened, storm-clouds gathering.

“The top seat isn’t grabbed by talk. Don’t forget how many points behind you were at entrance!”

“Hmph. That’s because I wasn’t serious. If I am, I’ll leave you blocks behind.”

“Rejected. I’ve had elite training since childhood, steel on my bones.”

“To protect Miss, to match her status, I learned far more than you. And you? What have you learned?”

“...Nothing. Not since childhood.”

“Ha. Figures I’m stronger. What I’ve learned rivals college students.”

Seeing Yun Shi hesitate, Yuna crossed her arms, smug as a cat in sun. The next second, reality slapped.

“What I learned wasn’t proper. Mostly training, shadow and sweat.”

“Books? Only after high school.”

Silence fell, grave-cold and heavy. Yuna’s easy look turned to fear, eyes wide as moons.

Only after high school she touched books? That’s terrifying, like thunder on a clear day.

For Yun Shi with two lifetimes of knowledge, it was nothing, a ripple. To others, it twisted into legend.

No books before, top student after. What else but monster-level talent?

“M-Miss, please let me study graduate-level material! I’m begging!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll arrange it.”

“See? You two get along fine.”

Watching them settle like birds on a branch, Lian Hua’s smile was full, harvest-rich.

“I still wonder. I come from an unclean place, ash on my sleeves.”

“Don’t you hate that?”

How could I? I adore cute little ones—my weakness blooms like spring blossoms.

Uh... the words snagged like a fishbone.

So, Yun, do you like it rough, like storm waves? That's a tangle.

But if that's your taste, I'll pour to your cup.

Quit spouting nonsense; don't wander into that thorn patch!

Oh, Yun, do you want to be “disciplined,” like taming a wild foal?

Lian Hua's gaze held mischief, a hawk pinning a rabbit, and she felt she'd met her natural enemy.

You, you... I'm going back—like a startled deer.

Unease prickled like thorns; Yun Shi stood at once.

She didn't want to stay a single heartbeat; she tossed the tea and made for the Student Council door.

Wait, Yun—you’re not dressed. If you go out like this, people will think you’re streaking under the moon.

Lian Hua’s voice drifted like smoke, and Yun Shi stopped cold mid-step.

She glanced down: a single blanket on top, and a shirt beneath with every button gone.

Below, smooth thighs shone bare; aside from a pair of panties, nothing covered her.

Sure, the blanket could hide it, but walking out like that would scream trouble like a red flag.

That's all because of you! You ripped my clothes to shreds, like claws through silk!

Yun Shi glared, anger coiling like black smoke.

If anyone heard, they'd twist it into gossip, like reeds bent by wind.

Sorry, sorry—Yun, you were too delicious, sweet as a ripe peach.

I hadn’t even finished and you cried like spring rain; how could I dare keep eating?

Damn you! I’m not food on a plate!

Haha, fine, I get it—tearing your clothes was my fault, like ink spilled on rice paper.

But I’ve got new clothes ready—Shizuru Yuna, bring them out.

As you command, miss, Shizuru Yuna said, the words snapping like a salute.

On the order, Shizuru Yuna pulled clothes from nowhere, like a magician’s scarf from a sleeve.

A closer look: Rakuyoku High School’s girls’ uniform, standard cut, though without the jacket.

On top, a custom summer blouse, ribbon tied neat, but with long sleeves flowing like a river.

You asked what clothes I like, and now you’re handing me a blouse—bait set like a snare.

Yun Shi’s eye twitched; fear flashed cold, like frost under moonlight.

Damn it, I’m not wearing women’s clothes, not even if the moon begged.

Right, I guessed you’d resist the girls’ uniform—and, well, that’s true, like the tide obeying the moon.

So I modified it: turned the summer short sleeves into long sleeves, stitched neat as bamboo joints.

Go on, wear it, Lian Hua said with a bright smile, eyes shining like a cat eyeing cream.

Stop—I won’t wear it, digging in like a mule.

Shizuru Yuna, do it, the order fell like a blade.

Yes! The reply cracked like a whip.

Yamete—my blanket flew like a startled bird!

Submit and behave, Yunshi Bianqi—bend like grass in the wind.

Inside the Student Council room, a forced outfit-change play unfolded, curtains swaying like dusk clouds.

Congrats, girl—once a fake maiden, now a real one, like paper turning to silk.

Aside: this picks up after Yun Shi left the Student Council, a path branching through bamboo.

Heading home, she drifted to the familiar supermarket, like a carp returning upstream.

In full women's wear, Yun Shi shopped for dinner, wincing like a cat on thorns.

Actually, Yun-chan is a cute girl, right? the vendor auntie said, voice warm like morning porridge.

Yun Shi never told anyone her gender here, so the regulars assumed a badly dressed schoolgirl; today looked a bit more proper, like straightened sleeves.

B-basically... I guess, she said, the words trickling like a leaky faucet.

Yun Shi spoke with a lacquered smile, a mask painted on.

Today was a disaster for her, like rain beating hollow on festival lanterns.