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As soon as I finished speaking, the room’s air tightened like damp silk on a bamboo frame; what was going on?

“Dear big brother, were you serious about that line? So bold, like tossing a spark into dry straw!”

“Eh? Which line?” Lingxiao’s excitement fogged my head like steam off hot tea.

“The part about welcoming Lixue to the Mizumi Clan anytime,” Lingsaki chimed in, a clear bell through the haze.

“Uh, I’m serious. As friends, we’d welcome Lixue to the Mizumi Clan anytime.” I shot Lingxiao a puzzled look, like an owl blinking in daylight.

“Eh? Just that?” Her doubt fluttered like a startled sparrow.

“Lingxiao, you’re overreacting. Brother’s always like this,” Lingsaki sighed, a breeze smoothing ripples on a pond.

“So what are you two even saying?” My thoughts tangled like thread in a loom.

Pfft!

Lixue suddenly laughed, like glass chimes in winter air. “I think Lingxiao mistook that, Emperor—she thought you were proposing to me.”

“Why?” The word dropped like a pebble into still water.

How did a simple invitation turn into a proposal? Confusion spread through me like ink blooming in a bowl.

“Dear big brother, the Mizumi Clan isn’t easy to enter,” Lingxiao said, like someone pointing at a guarded gate hung with red lanterns. “Outsiders must meet certain conditions.”

“Right,” Lingsaki added, as if tying a wedding ribbon on the door. “The simplest way in is to marry into the Mizumi Clan.”

So that’s their thinking—far horizons on a short road. I went speechless, like wind cut off mid-whistle. Besides, Lixue doesn’t need to worry because—

“For ordinary folks, sure,” I said, like brushing dust off lacquer. “But Lixue is a disciple of FrostyLily Dream. With that tie, coming and going at the Mizumi Clan should be no problem.”

“So embarrassing!” Lingxiao’s voice shrank like a snail into its shell.

“Mm. Lingxiao, you overthought it,” Lingsaki murmured, a gentle rain easing heat.

Lingxiao’s beautiful face flushed, cherry petals blooming across porcelain. She hugged me, buried her head against my chest, and fell silent like a night lake.

Holding her soft, warm frame, my words scattered like leaves in wind. Lingsaki slid in to hug me too, a second shawl around my shoulders. “She’s just mortified,” she soothed. “Give it time and the blush will fade.”

“Alright.” I patted Lingxiao’s pale, slender shoulder, like dusting snow off bamboo. Then I turned to Lixue. “Sorry for the scene.”

“It’s fine,” Lixue said, shaking her head like a willow in a light breeze. She stood and took a book from the shelf by the bed, pages smelling of ink and distance. “Let’s set our route through the Northern Abyss Continent first.”

I was about to reply when knock-knock thumped at the door, like a drumbeat from the hallway.

“Come in.”

“Pardon the intrusion.”

The door creaked open, an old hinge singing. Nalu stepped in, plain pajamas soft as morning fog; her silver-gray hair was damp, glinting like wet mercury.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, voice dipping like a bow.

She eased the door shut and sat by the bed, posture neat as folded paper. “Mizumi, you and your sisters are so close—always glued together,” she said, a hint of envy like moss under stone.

“They’re just too clingy,” I grumbled, amused as a cat with warm sun. “They’re sixteen already.”

I stroked their silky hair, smooth as river reeds, then looked to Nalu. “It’s late; did you need something?”

“Yes.” Nalu nodded, a lantern bobbing over dark water. “After hearing you were fretting over routes in the Northern Abyss Continent, I finished dinner and drew up a reference plan tailored to your conditions.”

“Really?” The word rippled like a drop in tea.

A pleasant surprise—her offer drew our attention like a lighthouse through fog.

“Yes,” she went on, voice steady as a paved road. “As you’ve seen, the Northern Abyss Continent isn’t rich in tourist resources. Only three places are worth visiting—the Basiloth Empire, the Ice Rock Empire, and the Yarlan Empire. The other kingdoms and duchies lag behind; there’s no need to go.”

“No wonder every book focuses on the three empires,” Lixue exhaled, the knot in her brow loosening like a released string. “The rest barely get ink.”

“So don’t waste time elsewhere,” Nalu said, pointing us like a compass. “Tour the three empires, and you’re set.”

She pulled a folded sheet from her pajama pocket and opened it, the paper unfurling like an autumn leaf. Graceful script listed sights and festivals across the three empires, dotted with cute little illustrations—her care shone like embroidery in good light.

“Whoa, Nalu, amazing!” The praise leapt out like sparrows from a bush. “You gathered so much.”

“Agreed,” I added, clarity crisp as mountain air. “It’s laid out perfectly.”

At some point, my sisters had let go and drifted to Nalu’s side, circling the sheet on the bed like cats around a warm stove, eyes bright.

A moment passed, steeping like tea.

We finished reading. Having a guide is gold—this one page saved us hours and brain cells, like a shortcut through a maze.

“Thanks for the hard work, Nalu,” I said, gratitude warm as a hearth.

“It’s nothing,” she smiled, the curve light as crescent moon. “If it pleases you, I’m honored—the effort wasn’t wasted. It’s late. Sweet dreams, and good night.”

“Good night.”

She rose, offered a slight aristocratic bow, and slipped out, a shadow closing like a fan.

“Mmm… ehehe… Mizumi… so you like this dragon…” Lanxia’s sleep-mutter drifted over, fluffy as clouds. No wonder she’d been quiet—already dozing, dream-sweet, a little drool shining like dew.

I got off the bed and tucked her in, the blanket a gentle wave. I couldn’t resist pinching her cheek—soft as mochi. Mm. The feel was delightful...

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