“Ha... San-niang, let me put this one on myself—”

“No, Your Majesty, the Empress. Your face is the face of the god’s people; your dress is their image, and any disarray insults them.”

“That’s heavy... I mean, duty’s good, but this is just an inner lining; even a messy knot won’t be seen—”

“Empress!”

With a voice edged in censure, an elastic snapped tight behind her; resignation rose first, and Menglan sighed like a wind-stilled reed.

She let go and let the meticulous handmaid move her limbs like a lacquered doll propped for show.

Then—clang—the crossbreeze window flew open, eagerness kicking the frame; one foot hit the sill, crude as a knife on porcelain.

A hum, a chin raised, confidence lit her eyes. “Menglan, this time I’ve got you beat!”

Menglan tilted her head, calm ripples under moonlight.

“I do like this batch of lattice paper, and you poked holes through it,” she said, smile soft as mist, eyes never leaving Varie’s face. “Guests should act like guests. Next time, the front door, okay?”

“Ha? Who’d come to your dump again! Today’s the last time!”

Round little ears twitched like startled sparrows; their owner, Varie, heard challenge in silk and bristled.

San-niang finally returned from the shock of that rude entrance, pointed, and cried, “How—how dare you trespass in the Empress’s residence, you—”

“Ahhh, shut up already!”

Pity the dutiful maid. Her warning drowned under Varie’s louder wave, ignored like rain on armor.

Varie hopped once to Menglan, caught her wrist, scooped her at the waist, then leapt out; calves drew clean lines, and whoosh—she was gone.

San-niang stared, stunned, elastic still warm in her hand, rooted like a post, until the air carried Menglan’s voice back, light as a drifting ribbon—It’s fine; I’ll be right back. Don’t tell anyone.

Message cast, fingers stilled, Menglan sank comfortably into Varie’s arms, ears filled with the speed-song of whooshing wind.

“Hmph. What’s a rock that sprouts blossoms? What I found is the real treasure!”

Pride rode the gale; Menglan saw advantage written in Varie’s eyes and let a smile curl like a crescent.

It’s been nearly three years since Varie, that thorny Hero, declared a one-sided rivalry and chased victory like a star.

She tried fighting, instruments, chess, tea and flowers, even beetles and roosters—anything that could be compared, like waves slapping every shore.

Results? Never once a true win; at best, a draw with Menglan in battle, and the rest were losses, like leaves falling.

But the sting only sharpened her; the hard-headed Hero asked for rematches more and more, like a drum that wouldn’t quiet.

This time, their contest was a wager: find a wonder the other has never seen, a marvel stamped on the soul.

For that, Menglan had revealed plum-jade born at the roots of the World Tree—huge pink jade that grows crystal plum blooms every century.

In blossom, it releases a fragrance no real plum could reach, a moonlit perfume that haunts the breath.

Varie had scoffed at it on sight, a curled lip like a cat, and today her confidence blazed brighter.

“Get ready to admit defeat, Menglan! This time you’ll yield, heart and voice!”

They skimmed eaves and scaled walls; impatience sparked in Varie’s face like fireworks, and Menglan saw a child finding an anthill, eager to show.

Unruly... but pure, like spring water?

She remembered San-niang’s lecturing tone while tying her lining, and a laugh slipped out like a pearl.

“What’re you laughing at? Looking down on my find before you even see it?”

Varie’s stare said, You lofty freak, lightning behind the eyes; Menglan shook her head, soft as falling snow.

“Nope.”

She let her gaze slide, gathered the unfastened inner lining to her chest, and cooed, voice honeyed with shyness.

“But... my clothes aren’t on yet. So embarrassing.”

She caught the blush she’d wanted, a rose rising on Varie’s cheeks.

“You... weirdo! We’re both girls; what’s the problem!”

**

“We’re both girls...”

Under a night-silk sky, two exquisite bodies lay on a hammock woven of soft vines; one sprawled like a fallen statue, one watched moonlight drip.

“Yeah, we’re both girls... what problem could there be?”

Menglan echoed, lifted herself a little, and the Shattered Ice Strait unfurled before her like a diamond field.

“So beautiful...”

Cracked ice born of winter kissing spring rubbed and sang; white moonlight split into rainbows, a gentle shush like sand and silk.

Today, Varie’s confidence had roots; even age-old Menglan had to admit this view outshone her plum-jade like the sun outshines frost.

She turned to her companion, leaned close; gold hair tangled with brown, a braid spun by night, and whispered in her ear.

“Varie... this time, you win.”

Silence held a beat, then teeth set to words. “I know I lost; don’t pity me!”

Menglan blinked, palm warm on her cheek, smoothing messy locks like wind taming grass. “That’s not it, Varie.”

The first time, anyone gets carried off by that feeling; it’s not your fault, and joy doesn’t stain the honor of the Moon Goddess Isylia.

She ignored the deepening blush and fingers knotting tight, until Varie finally toppled her, pressing her down like thunder pinning cloud.

A little-devil smile bloomed on Menglan’s lips, playful as fireflies. “I was wrong... mm, Varie, how will you forgive me~”

Her trembling tone was art, a perfect mimic; open arms turned it to pure catalyst, snapping the last string in Varie’s mind.

Bodies entwined, reason burned like incense; with no breath left for talk, both hearts held one shared thought.

Tonight... is very long.