Time slipped like water between fingers; four days vanished in a blink. In that span, the Mizumi Clan home buzzed like a spring market, no trace of its old frost.
Yugami Rexiao and Yugami Rexi had wanted to chase Yumigawa Sumeragi the moment they learned he’d left the Central Continent, like kites tugging toward a distant wind. But they followed Yugong Jingyue’s words and stayed a week—greeting kin like warm lanterns, chatting with parents like tea steaming, playing with their sister like willow leaves in a breeze.
Four days gone, three grains of sand left in the hourglass, the sun crawling like a lazy turtle.
That morning, after breakfast, steam faded like dawn mist from the bowls.
The three sisters sprawled over the table, faces flat as calm ponds, flipping manga with page-turn whispers like falling leaves, nibbling pastries like sparrows pecking crumbs.
“Hey, is there seriously nothing to do besides manga or novels?” Lingxiao’s voice rose like a pebble tossed into still water, her gaze drifting up from the panels like a moth from a lamp.
“There is. You could train, or play maid and do chores,” Jingyue said, stretching like a cat in sunlight and rubbing a stiff shoulder like kneading cold dough. “Still… being a shut-in is boring—idle days soften your bones like noodles left too long.”
“Maid…” Lingsaki’s eyes sparked like flint. “Right, what if we play maid today? It won’t be this dull.” Her words landed like a pebble skipping twice across the stream.
“How rare, Lingsaki, you actually suggested something,” Lingxiao said, surprise fluttering like a startled bird, then settling like dust in a beam.
These days had been mostly manga and novels, with walks under soft skies and chats with parents like evening tea, so a change of mood felt like moving clouds.
“Maid sounds good. Then…” Jingyue’s smile curved like a fox’s crescent moon, her stare hooking them like fish under clear water. “Lingxiao, Lingsaki, be my exclusive maids today. I’ll teach you till you can stand on your own. How about it?”
“Huh? Why be your exclusive maids, Second Sis?” Lingxiao’s protest popped like bamboo in a fire.
“Yeah, even if it’s just a day,” Lingsaki added, words crisp as winter air.
“Heh, you don’t get it.” Jingyue’s sly grin glimmered like lacquer. “Think about it. Little Emperor has become Xinuo Miss’s exclusive maid, and there’s Littlesky and Qianji around him too—his days are busy like ant trails. If you became first-rate maids and eased his fatigue, like cool rain after heat…”
She paused there, her smile hanging like a crescent moon, eyes on her sisters like stars on a still lake.
“…”
“…”
Silence pooled like ink. The sisters lowered their heads, thoughts spiraling like smoke.
After a breath, Lingxiao spoke, voice soft as cotton: “Second Sis is right. Our dear brother has so many to care for; he must be exhausted like a lantern burning past midnight.”
“Mm. Making dear brother less tired is our duty, like tending the hearth,” Lingsaki said, resolve settling like a stone.
They traded a look, resolve bright as winter frost. “Please, Second Sis—teach us to become first-rate maids.”
“Hehe, good. First step: put on maid outfits.” Jingyue somehow produced two sets like silk pulled from a sleeve, handing them over like offerings on a tray. “By the way, Little Emperor made these with his own hands.”
“Dear brother’s handmade maid outfit? I’m wearing it!” Lingxiao’s excitement burst like firecrackers.
“Me too—right now!” Lingsaki’s feet tapped like sparrows.
Whoosh—they sprinted to the dressing room like wind through bamboo. Clothes rustled off like ripe leaves; maid skirts swirled on like new blossoms.
“Hehe, mention Little Emperor and they get fired up like a summer storm,” Jingyue murmured, her smile sly as an old fox with a secret den.
A few minutes later, the sisters stepped out, hems floating like petals on a stream.
“Oh my, you two look perfect in maid outfits, almost rivaling Little Emperor,” Jingyue said, clapping like chimes.
Lingxiao’s pale-gold hair was braided into two neat twists, falling back like twin ropes of sunlight, with a white maid headpiece like fresh snow. Her layered skirt—pink within, white without—fluttered like sakura over frost. Her legs wore sheer white stockings like morning mist, and her feet nestled in cute brown boots like chestnuts.
Lingsaki’s look mirrored in reverse: her usual twin tails fell into straight black silk, a rabbit-ear headpiece perking like dawn reeds. Her blue-and-white maid dress had a bell on the chest that chimed like a small stream, and a fluffy round tail at the back like a snow puff. Black tights wrapped her legs like ink on rice paper, short boots tapping like rain on tiles.
“Hearing that, I really want to see dear brother in a maid outfit,” Lingxiao said, curiosity floating like a kite.
“Same. I want to see it badly,” Lingsaki added, longing sharp as a crescent blade.
They hadn’t seen their beloved brother for years, and since returning home, rumors drifted like plum fragrance—that Yumigawa Sumeragi had become breathtaking. Jingyue often stirred that topic like a ladle, which made their yearning bloom like late chrysanthemums.
“Heehee, I’ve got plenty of photos of Little Emperor in maid outfits,” Jingyue sang, voice twinkling like star-metal. “Do you want them?”
“We want!” The answer came quick as arrows.
“Good, that’s the spirit. Become first-rate maids, and I’ll give you the photos as a reward,” she said, giddy like a sparrow after millet. Ever since Yumigawa Sumeragi left, she hadn’t felt this light, like sunlight on river ripples.
“No problem… wait! I’ve got a question, Second Sis,” Lingxiao said, suspicion warming like tea turning bitter.
“Funny, me too,” Lingsaki added, eyes narrowing like crescent moons.
Letting Yugong Jingyue train them as maids—something felt off, like a bamboo flute slightly out of tune.
“What is it? Speak,” Jingyue asked, smile steady as lacquer.
“Um—can you really teach us to be first-rate maids?” Lingxiao’s words poked like a stick at a beehive. “You never do chores, and your cooking is… lethal, like smoke from a burnt wok.”
“Also, these past days you seemed to love pranks, like a fox in a henhouse. Is this another one?” Lingsaki’s tone fell like a shadow.
Memories drifted like ash; doubt curled like fog.
“Aiya, busted~” Jingyue’s tongue peeked out like a cherry petal. In her heart: I have no idea what maids actually do, thoughts scattering like sparrows. She stood and slipped from the room quick as a cat.
“Darn it! Second Sis, hold it! You tricked us!” Lingxiao yelled, fury snapping like dry twigs.
“Hand over dear brother’s maid photos, or taste the price of deceit!” Lingsaki’s threat rang like a temple bell.
“Catch me first~ Also, I don’t have Little Emperor’s maid photos anymore—Littlesky took them all. Sorry☆” Jingyue’s voice floated down the corridor like a teasing wind.
“Second Sis, you—!” Lingxiao’s cry cracked like thunder.
“Second Sis, unforgivable!” Lingsaki’s verdict fell like a gavel.
…Well then, the Mizumi Clan seems peaceful today, like sunlight dozing on the eaves.
