Lingxiao and Lingsaki had stayed at the Mizumi Clan estate for one week, sand slipping through the hourglass, and planned to leave the Central Continent to find Yumigawa Sumeragi.

It was the seventh night, nine p.m., lamps dim like tired stars and shadows pooling like ink.

...

“Second Sis, it’s this late already. Why drag us outside? We’re hunting for our dear brother tomorrow. How can we not sleep under a quiet moon?”

“Mm. Second Sis, what’s so urgent?”

Fresh from washing, in soft sleepwear, the sisters stared at Yugong Jingyue, irritation flaring like sparks, because she had tugged them into the courtyard at lights-out.

“Eh? Leaving tomorrow already? So cold… uh, fine, don’t glare like stormclouds.”

Jingyue wanted to banter, but their darkening faces rolled in like thunderheads, so she spoke plainly. “It’s your last night at the Mizumi Clan. Sleeping straight through would be dull. So I have a proposal.”

“Cut the fluff, Second Sis. What trick now? It’s the last night, and you still want to toy with us?”

“Pranks are bad, Second Sis.”

After these days, Lingxiao and Lingsaki had mapped out Jingyue’s nature, so her sunny smile rang like a fox’s bell, and suspicion rose like mist.

“Uuu, Lingxiao-chan, Lingsaki-chan, you’re so mean… Hey! Don’t head back. I’ll say it now!”

Seeing them turn like reeds in wind toward their room, Jingyue grabbed them again. “Once you leave, who knows when you’ll return. So keep your sister company tonight, okay? Tomorrow I go back to a dead-still life, bored as a pond without ripples.”

“Alright, said like that, fine. What do you want to play? If it’s another prank, we won’t forgive you.”

“It’s late already. What game, Second Sis?”

They knew resistance was useless, like pushing a mountain, and agreed with a sigh that drifted like smoke.

“Heh. Night games? There’s only one. A Test of Courage. Far from our home, there’s that Ghost Shrine. It’s a haunt of spectral life, perfect like a stage wrapped in fog.”

“Eh?! A Test of Courage? Don’t play kid games. That’s a sandbox with plastic ghosts.”

As soon as she finished, Lingxiao balked, her face stiff like cold clay and awkward as a crooked branch.

“Oh? Lingxiao-chan, don’t tell me you’re scared. A Mizumi Clan daughter fearing mere ghosts? That absurdity wouldn’t sprout even in winter.”

As if she’d expected it, Jingyue narrowed her eyes, tilted her head like a curious sparrow, and baited Lingxiao’s pride like a red flag.

“H-how could I fear ghosts? Ha… ha…”

“Lingxiao, if you’re scared, don’t force it. Refuse.”

“No! I don’t fear any ghost. Fine, we’ll go to the Ghost Shrine, Second Sis.”

Her pride stood like a brittle blade. Even knowing she was being baited, Lingxiao couldn’t lower her gaze to admit fear.

“Excellent. Then off we go. Spatial shift.”

Jingyue clapped, and the scene flipped like a page. In a blink, the courtyard vanished. They stood at a mountain’s foot, trees looming like black ribs, the silence cold enough to bite.

Wind hissed now and then, insects chirped like tiny drums, and there wasn’t a single lamp—only darkness heavy as wet cloth.

The Ghost Shrine sat atop the mountain, reached by a long, jagged path, a spine of stone and shadow.

“Gulp.”

Lingxiao stared around, swallowed hard like a pebble, and gripped Lingsaki’s hand as if it were a lifeline braided from moonlight.

“If you’re truly terrified, Lingxiao-chan, we can go back,” Jingyue said, smiling, a small lantern of fire in her palm painting warm gold on cold bark.

“W-who said I’m scared? It’s just a Ghost Shrine! Alright, let’s go.”

She forced the words out like pushing through thorns, tugged Lingsaki uphill, her slender shoulders trembling like willow leaves in wind.

“Ah-la, wait for me,” Jingyue called, lantern bobbing like a firefly, mood bright as a ringing bell.

...

A few minutes later, they reached mid-slope. Lingxiao’s bravado had drained like rain through stone. She clung to Lingsaki’s arm and hid behind her like a skittish fawn.

Whooooo—

A clean breeze swept through. Grass and leaves whispered shasha, like paper prayers rubbing under a shrine eave.

“Yah!”

Lingsaki flinched, peeking around like a bird from a nest. Seeing nothing, she sighed out a breath light as mist.

“Don’t push yourself, Lingxiao. If you can’t go on, we’ll return.”

Lingsaki glanced at Lingxiao’s clenched grip, worry pooling in her chest like cold water.

“Right, Lingxiao-chan. Maybe we turn back.”

Though Jingyue liked pranks, seeing Lingxiao’s fear, concern rose like dawn. Everything in measure. A small prank is a breeze; too much becomes a storm.

“I’m not forcing it! We’re halfway. How can we retreat with our footprints pointing forward?”

Her pride would not bend, standing like a stubborn pine on a cliff.

“Lingxiao… fine.”

“Alright. We keep going.”

Knowing her nature, Jingyue and Lingsaki traded a look, sighed together like twin strings, and continued up toward the crest.

Along the way—

Mist ahead thickened and shaped into pale silhouettes, blurry figures like breath caught in frost.

“Uuu! Mere ghosts aren’t scary at all!”

...

Rustle. A rabbit popped out of the grass, ears flicking like flags in night wind.

“Ah!!! … Oh, it’s a rabbit. I almost died of fright!”

...

A few fireflies drifted through the dark, green lamps floating like tiny stars.

“Ghost flames!!!”

“Lingxiao (Lingxiao-chan), breathe. Those are fireflies.”

“Uuu.”

...

...

After several disasters that made speech shrivel like leaves, they finally reached the summit and stood before the Ghost Shrine, torii and eaves cast in moon-ink.

Before they could take in the shrine’s bones and beauty—

“Oh my, honored guests indeed. Welcome, three young ladies of the Mizumi Clan, to the Ghost Shrine. What can I do for you?”

A beautiful girl ghost appeared, floating without feet, body faintly transparent, shrine maiden robes fluttering like white waves.

“Ghooost—!!!”

Pretty or not, a ghost was still a ghost. Lingxiao screamed, eyes rolling back like flipped coins, and fainted, collapsing onto Lingsaki’s back like a fallen petal.

“...”

“I’m terribly sorry! As a ghost, I’ve scared a Mizumi lady unconscious. I can only atone with death—by shattering my spirit.”

Seeing the maiden ghost ready to self-detonate her soul, Jingyue and Lingsaki waved frantically like windblown flags. “It’s not your fault! Don’t take it to heart. Sorry for the trouble!”

Before the ghost could answer, Yugong Jingyue cast a transfer spell. In a blink, she sent herself and the sisters back to the Mizumi Clan estate, lantern light snuffed like a breath.

“Eh? What just happened?”

The maiden ghost hovered, puzzled, alone beneath the moon, confusion drifting around her like fog.