With Nalu leading, we drifted through almost every corner outside Moonhundred City’s central district, like gulls skimming a frosted bay.

It was bustling, far more than yesterday’s small town, voices rising like warm steam in winter air.

Streets ran neat and clean, façades aligned like combed snowfields.

For eyes used to rustic, grand styles, it felt fresh, like a new glaze on old porcelain.

Street snacks and pastries tasted good, little embers warming a cold tongue.

Even if the ingredients were cheap, humble grains flowed like pebbles in a stream.

After hours, boredom seeped in like melting sleet.

Every street looked the same, house-fronts repeating like stamped tiles.

Snow all year bleached the city, a monochrome painting in ash-white.

Moonhundred City still falls short of Proudmoon City, capital of the Eastern Moon Empire, a lantern beside a star-lit palace.

Its planning and street design don’t compare, lines here like hastily drawn brushstrokes.

Regret pricks me; I barely explored Proudmoon back then, a missed stroll hanging like an unsung note.

“Feels like there’s nothing fun in Moonhundred City besides crowds; every turn looks the same, faces blurring like snowflakes.”

Lingxiao licked fresh ice cream, eyes drifting like bored clouds.

“Yeah, nothing much to do, a calm pond with no ripples.”

“Same here—this dragon’s bored to death, a chained storm yawning!”

Lingsaki and Lanxia chimed in, faces flat as winter stone.

“Lixue, you bored too?”

I’d felt her silence gnawing like a soft wind on skin; I couldn’t help asking.

“Not really,” she said, her tone cool as shade.

She paused, voice like a quiet flute.

“Most of my life was spent cultivating, days strung like beads on a training cord.

So leisure like this feels unfamiliar, like soft moss under a warrior’s boots.”

Guilt rushed in like a cold tide.

“You’ve had it hard.”

Compared to Lixue, my past feels shameful, idle days like dust on a blade.

“It wasn’t that hard.”

Lixue smiled and shook her head, calm as falling flakes.

“In the Palace of Ice Crystal, there’s little to do but train, hours piling like silent snow.”

“No wonder your strength’s so fierce, Miss Lixue, iron under frost.”

As we spoke, Nalu unfolded Moonhundred City’s map like a silk scroll.

She pointed at the middle, finger steady as a compass.

“Truth is, only the central district is worth a stroll.”

“The central district—the city’s heart?”

“Yeah. Moonhundred’s central district gathers most nobles of the Ice Rock Empire and the imperial household, mansions clustered like constellations.

So upscale entertainment and trading venues spark there like lanterns in a festival.

Its scale and prosperity dwarf the common quarters we walked, shadows stretching long.

But…” Nalu’s face pinched with worry, a petal creasing in frost.

“Costs there run high, and the money on me…”

We read the rest in her pause, meaning settling like dust.

She didn’t have enough for the center, her purse light as an empty gourd.

It’d been Nalu paying for snacks before; coins had clicked like cold teeth.

They weren’t pricey, but it weighed on her like a small stone in the shoe.

Shame pricked me like needles; I was flat broke.

I glanced at the sisters hanging on my arms, warmth like scarves.

“Lingxiao, Lingsaki—did you bring coins when leaving the Central Continent?”

“Gold coins? None of those,” Lingxiao said, dusk-light in her eyes.

“We brought lots of Purplegold Coins, purple glints like twilight petals.”

“Yep. We researched the outside before traveling, plans stacked like bamboo slips.”

Lingxiao nodded, then fished a bulging gold-thread pouch from her spatial bag, a plump moon settling in her palm.

Inside lay a heap of Purplegold Coins, discs shimmering like plum blossoms in frost.

I had no sense for their buying power, ignorance like fog.

Better hand them to Nalu, let the river find its banker.

“Nalu, are these enough for the central district?”

“…I forgot the Mizumi Clan behind you is the richest in the world, wealth like mountains under mist.”

Nalu blinked back to herself, gave a shy smile, and started counting, fingertips tapping like beads.

“Looks like right around three hundred, like pebbles counted from a stream.”

“Three hundred? That little?” Lingsaki’s brows lifted, a sharp twig in snow.

Lingsaki pulled another pouch from her spatial bag as the words fell, it pulsed with magic like a warm ember.

“This space pouch holds several veins of purple-gold ore, mountains folded like paper inside.

We can mint plenty of Purplegold Coins.”

“No, no!” Her words fluttered like startled sparrows.

“Three hundred Purplegold Coins aren’t ordinary money, value heavy like iron in water.

They’d cover days in the center.

You could even buy land near the imperial palace.”

“What’s the difference between Purplegold and gold coins?

Why’s Purplegold worth more?”

Currencies outside still puzzle me, money on the Central Continent like wind over stone.

“Well…” Nalu thought a moment, words gathering like dew.

“My father says Purplegold holds a special energy, a spark hiding in violet metal.

Tiny in amount, but pricier than regular coins alloyed with gold.”

“And Purplegold just looks better than plain gold,” Lanxia chimed, scales bright in her grin.

“In this dragon’s treasury, there’s a Purplegold dragon statue, violet sheen like twilight on scales.

It’s much prettier than a golden one.”

“Is that so? I don’t feel Purplegold’s that precious…”

Lingsaki glanced at the space pouch, then tossed it into Nalu’s arms, the pouch flying like a mild comet.

“Take it—like passing a lantern across dusk.

We brought plenty this trip.

And your family probably needs money now.”

She hesitated, a ripple in her eyes like wind on a pond.

Nalu started to refuse, but I stopped her, my hand a quiet gate.

“Take it; it’s Lingsaki’s goodwill, a gift laid on fresh snow.

Purplegold’s useless to us anyway.”

“That’s because you, Emperor, don’t have the habit of paying for things.”

Lixue’s jab hit true, sharp as a pin.

I do find buying with coins a hassle, trading like threading needles in a storm.

“Lixue, you’re the same—no coin on you at all, pockets light as wings.”

“True—since childhood in the Palace of Ice Crystal, whatever I wanted, my teacher fetched, wishes delivered like dawn snowfall.

I never tried buying with coins.”

She owned the retort with easy grace, water smooth over stone.

“Hm? Nalu, what’s wrong?”

A flicker of unease crossed me, like a cold bird’s shadow.

She was staring, lost, eyes fogged like a winter window.

“No, it’s nothing.”

She shook her head lightly and tucked away the gold-thread pouch and the space bag, hands folding clouds into sleeves.

“I just felt you and I live in different worlds—because we do, like rivers under different skies.

And I’ll repay this gift someday.”

“Anyway, enough rambling.”

“Next stop—the central district of Moonhundred City.

It won’t let you down, promises bright as lanterns at dusk.”

“Whoa—cheers popped like firecrackers in snow!”

The moment she said central district, the mood sparked, sparks dancing on ice.

A little anticipation warmed us, like tea steeping in cold hands.

Still, something tugged at me, restless as a thread in wind.

For some reason, Nalu carried a faint, off-color mood around us, smoke under clear glass.

Back on the Eastern Moon Continent, Faya and Aixue met us with easy grace, water flowing around stones.

Nalu couldn’t be that natural.

Why?

I watched her back recede, a figure against pale streets, and my thoughts slid into deep snow.