“Finally back—”

Asagi Renka stretched like a cat in a sunbeam, tasting the airport air like cool spring water, and her chest loosened.

“Miss, your water.”

Shizuru Yuna handed over her lady’s canteen, like offering a calm lake in a metal flask.

“Thanks, Yuna~”

Lian Hua took it, twisted the cap, and tipped it back, drinking like a desert traveler finding a stream. On the battlefield, every day had been like this; peace hadn’t shaken the habit.

She’d grown up in a world like iron and smoke, yet school had felt like soft rain and quiet courtyards. Dropping back into combat had made her skin itch, like wearing armor in a garden.

It had only been two weeks, but time felt stretched like winter nights—two years packed into a thin hour.

“Miss, do you have a plan?”

“Of course—back to school~”

She’d missed the first day of the sports festival, but day two and three would do, like catching the late train as dawn broke.

She didn’t go home. She went straight to campus, sprinting to the gate like a swallow cutting the wind, still in travel clothes. Day two of the festival was just about to start.

“President, when did you get back?”

“Yeah, you didn’t even warn us. Wait—did you go traveling? You didn’t even change.”

“You’re finally back! Quick, we need you to host the festival~”

The students’ warmth rose like a summer tide, every smile a lantern lifted for Lian Hua. Her popularity at school was a small bonfire; of course they flocked to it.

“You’re all doing well~ Mm, I’m glad. Don’t worry—the festival should be hosted by me~”

Her mood bloomed like a plum blossom in snow, and she took the job in one breath. That promise let everyone relax into the festival breeze, while tossing the bothersome work onto the president’s shoulders. On day one, they hadn’t dared pile it on Yunshi Bianqi, who was acting for the Student Council; today, they dared push it onto the president.

Shizuru Yuna’s fingers twitched toward her forehead, like a leaf about to fall. She knew her lady’s temperament well, but still—couldn’t she rest, for once, after coming back from overseas?

Lian Hua returned to the Student Council room, pulled her uniform from the wardrobe like unsheathing calm, and changed with Yuna’s help, smooth as silk over skin.

“Yuna, move out. To the field.”

“Yes.”

Yuna bowed, crisp as a folding fan, and followed to the sports grounds. People came and went like migrating flocks, with outsiders drifted in too; Lian Hua’s entrance drew eyes like moths to a lantern. Her popularity still burned high.

The program was simple: she hosted the day-two opening, then sent people to shore up logistics, like ants ordering the hill. After checking the events, she rallied crowds to maintain order, like a bell steadying a temple.

Ceremonial cannons boomed across the field, smoke curling like dragons, and matches kicked off again. Lian Hua walked the venue with Yuna, eyes sweeping like a painter; she felt satisfied—except…

“Oh, goddess~ From the first day I saw you, I was smitten. You’re a rose in full flame; I’m the vase—come live in my heart~”

At the gate, a boy in a suit—clearly from another school, handsome and polished like a showroom car—was half-kneeling with a bouquet of roses, confessing to a girl whose face had darkened like a stormfront.

The girl wore a cheerleader outfit. She wasn’t curvy, nor tall like a cedar, but her delicate face was a clear pond, pleasing at a glance; any lolicon might perk up.

Her expression was ink-black and her body trembled like a taut bow. The cheerleaders around her were all biting back laughter, some bursting outright like popped firecrackers.

Only the middle-school girl nearest her wore a mild smile, calm as a tea surface, no extra ripples.

“Well, this just got interesting~”

Watching, Lian Hua’s curiosity rose like mist.

Right—this wasn’t just anyone. The confession target was Yun Shi.

The laughing classmates only knew Yun Shi as a boy; they pitied the suitor like a paper boat in a storm.

But Lian Hua knew Yun Shi was actually a girl, so it wasn’t shocking. She simply found the laughing crowd “too innocent,” like kids poking a sleeping tiger.

“I refuse.”

Yun Shi was blunt, clean as a blade, and cut the confession in one stroke.

“Why, sweetheart? Am I not worthy? Don’t worry—I’ll cross any mountain, because I love you deeply~”

The young master wasn’t giving up. He’d hunted plenty and never hit a wall like this; interest burned brighter, like a moth pressing closer to flame.

“Shut it! I said I don’t like you!”

“It’s okay, goddess—whatever happens—”

“Men, get lost! I want girls!”

“Ah, why abuse yourself like that? I know you’re trying to drive me off. But I won’t give up—believe me, we’re meant to be!”

“Who wants to be with you! I said I’m not interested, aaaaaahhh!!!”

Faced with this shameless wall, Yun Shi’s heart frayed like wet paper. Why were men confessing to her! (Yes, that was the main crisis.)

“Pff—hahahahahahahaha!!!”

The cheer team finally exploded, laughter rolling like a drumline. If that guy knew Yun Shi was a boy, he’d collapse—so they thought, merrily cruel as sparrows.

Lian Hua almost laughed too, but at the girls who didn’t know the truth, not the suitor; their ignorance was honey and blade.

“Xiao Yun, let’s go.”

Mizuki pushed out of the crowd like a sudden wind, grabbed Yun Shi’s hand, and hauled her off without a word; her face looked rough, like thunder under cloud.

The rich boy didn’t care; he was already daydreaming about post-conquest travel, castles and beaches pasted like stickers. Later, when someone told him Yun Shi was “actually a boy,” he nearly shattered, and he went to a footbridge to shout, “Lord Lucifer, should I believe in you?” The police took him like a leaf in a net, pegged him a nutcase; but that was another story.

“That girl’s jealous,” Lian Hua murmured, smile deepening like ink in water. She wondered if telling Mizuki the truth someday would be entertaining, like tossing a pebble into a still pond.

“Miss… are you going a bit black-hearted?”

“No such thing~”

Yuna didn’t buy it; the shadow at the corner of her lady’s grin was a raven’s feather.

“Miss, can we not… dwell on that? Business, please.”

Yuna didn’t want to stay tangled in this net; she tugged the topic like pulling a kite back.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“You came back to… recruit Yunshi Bianqi, didn’t you?”

“Right, right, I almost forgot.”

“…”

Yuna’s palm itched again. How did one overseas trip make her lady like this? Was every girl in love like drifting smoke?

She thought of her lady’s future wife and drifted into a quiet calculus—will it be wife rules or husband rules?

“All right. I did come back with that plan. Besides Yun Shi, I might invite Mizuki too.”

“Why Mizuki as well? Isn’t she enough to stabilize London?”

Strategically, Mizuki’s strength was a pillar in London. Moving her elsewhere felt wrong, like removing a keystone.

“I can see it—the decisive battle with the Church likely won’t happen in the UK.”

“Why? Weren’t we going to launch the final push in London?”

“Didn’t you watch the news? The UK’s been a turbulent sea lately. If we charge in, we might sail straight into the Church’s trap. Better to shift the field and draw them to where the black syndicates run thick.”

Lian Hua was sharp, already mapping the main battlefield like plotting stars.

Rumor said the Church planned to expose the Underworld; the whisper rose into a gale, filling the city with dust and outrage, and the backlash hit the Church like hail.

Picking a suitable field now would help end the war early and seize initiative, like moving first in a game of go.

“So your idea is…?”

Lian Hua didn’t answer right away. She scanned the area like a hawk, then led Yuna into a quiet grove where the wind felt clean.

“I want the battlefield on Sicily. What do you think?”

Italy was a nest where mafia vines tangled thick; fighting in the darkest thicket made sense. Even if things blew up, everyday eyes wouldn’t turn, like city folk ignoring distant thunder.

“It could work, but we may not have the manpower…”

“True. The Magic Institution can barely carry itself. The other Clan Heads also…”

Lian Hua fell into thought, flicking through options like turning prayer beads. The idea was good; making it real would be hard iron.

“Right—Yuna. How’s Berlin?”

She remembered and turned the question like a key.

“If you mean Miss Yie Caiyin, she’s fine. The Berlin fight ended ages ago; she’s gone to Shanghai, supposedly to seek funds for operations.”

“That’s good.”

Relief slid through Lian Hua like warm tea; whatever else, Aya’s safety mattered.

Seeing her lady like this, Yuna felt tears rise like tide in the dark. Why did everyone have partners while she was a lone lantern? No—she needed a blind date…

“I heard the Four Pupils Clan has people operating in Wuhan. Do you know what they’re up to?”

“…”

“Yuna?”

“Ah! Sorry, I zoned out. Ahem—nothing huge, I think they’re recruiting. Maybe they’re planning to crusade against the Church too.”

Zoning out over matchmaking—shame bloomed like a red stamp. Yuna could only swallow the laugh or cry.

“I don’t think it’s that simple. Yuna, remember? When the Magic Institution fought the Divine Ling Family, the Church watched from the shore too.”

“Mm. And you didn’t step in then, Miss.”

“Because I knew the Church wanted the fisherman’s prize. Let both sides bleed, then scoop the entire Underworld.”

“…Miss. You mean the Four Pupils Clan wants to wait for us to ruin each other… then seize the Underworld?”

Yuna’s face went grim, storm pressing low. Lian Hua didn’t explain; her silence was an answer, dark as ink settling.