Liqianyu frowned at the storm-torn estate of the Ninth Prince, sighed like thin mist, and stepped in to help the servants straighten the wreckage.

From afar, she spotted Eli half-kneeling in the snow, silent as stone. She touched the letter in her pocket like a warm coal, sighed again, and let him be.

Xili was grilled by Aaron like meat over coals, then hauled into the palace’s cold jaws. Moser sent word to Tengger and the rest, messages flying like startled sparrows, urging them to hurry back.

Men sent by other princes ringed the Ninth Prince’s grounds like a belt and began repairs, hammers pattering like spring rain.

A whole night roared by in bustle, lamps winking like scattered stars.

By dawn, Eli’s eyes were scarlet, and he staggered through the Ninth Prince’s domain like a boat in fog.

He climbed a rise, leaned on an old tree like a weary traveler, and sank to the ground. He tipped red wine into his mouth like a dark river, pressed his forehead to the bark, and stared blankly at workers swarming like ants.

He rocked the bottle, a dull pendulum in his hand, his face empty as a shuttered house. Until the bottle slipped, shattered on the frost with a crack, and the sound cut through him like breaking ice.

“Yo.” The word hopped like a pebble on water.

At the call, Eli raised his head, lids heavy as lead clouds.

Liqianyu came with a bottle of juice, crouched, and patted his shoulder, her smile a neat crescent. “What’s wrong, Archmage? Your face is dark enough to scare ghosts,” she said, her voice bright as a bell.

Eli didn’t answer. He took the bottle, gulped, and frowned. “Apple juice?” The taste bit tart as green fruit.

“You’ve been drinking all night; another sip and you’ll drop dead,” Liqianyu said, sitting beside him and hugging her knees, her words falling like cold drizzle.

“Heh.” Eli’s laugh was crooked as a cracked cup. “Seriously, you’re nosy. Do we even have a relationship?”

“Hey, we’re comrades, right? What’s with that attitude?” She pushed him, and he rolled onto his back, staring at a sky blue as lakewater.

Silence pooled around them like snowmelt. Eli kept mute, and Liqianyu scratched her head, fingers raking hair like a restless sparrow.

Time stretched, with no roofs to block the sun. After a night of drinking, Eli lay on the snow and let the light strike like knives. He squinted, and drowsiness washed over him like a slow tide.

He rubbed his eyes, stood a little, and turned to leave, joints creaking like old wood.

“Hey,” she called, her voice a taut string.

“Mm?”

Liqianyu halted him, and Eli glanced back, his look thin as smoke. “Got something?”

She ground her teeth, words hard as pebbles. “Why are you so sunk in gloom?”

“Mm?”

“Who does this help? Is drowning in wine some badge of honor?” She stood and glared, her stare hot as coals.

Eli wrinkled his brow, a storm-line across his face. “None of your business.”

Liqianyu clicked her tongue, a spark of flint. “Tsk, screw you. You two are headaches. I care, and you bite me!”

Eli cocked his head, curious as a cat at rain, watching this ranting tomboy.

“Fine, I don’t care, take it, take it!” She yanked out Edlyn’s letter, the paper fluttering like a trapped moth, and stepped up to him.

She slapped the envelope to his chest, the smack a wave on rock. “Read it yourself, you two heartless brats.”

She shot him a vicious glare, fixed her mask like a thin veil, and left without looking back, footsteps quick as wind.

Eli blinked, then slowly tore open the envelope, the rip dry as autumn leaves. He squinted at a page scratched over with wild lines like brambles, trying to read the familiar hand beneath. His fingers trembled a little, and the letter said this:

“Hmm, Hero, if you’re reading this, it means my resolve hasn’t turned to iron yet. Heh. I—no, I shall—tell you something now. Ahem, Hero, if you can read this, you’ve followed tiny threads like spidersilk and uncovered my true face. Hehe, my destined nemesis, you’re right. I am the greatest foe of your former life. The supreme sovereign of the mightiest race in the annals of dominion, a crown like a black sun. Power greater than the Celestial Gods, spawn of the deepest Abyss, shadow cold as the sea floor. The Demon King, Pandora. Too bad I can’t see your face now, but I can imagine it, sourer than swallowing filth. As for my leaving, you’re surely regretting not cutting me down in time, right? I pity you, like a wolf watching a limping deer. Hero, since you pierced my disguise, next we meet will be the day I erase you.”

(All of the above was crossed out in thick strokes, ink smeared like tar.)

Eli’s face went dark, because all that had been scrawled over in a mad rush, and he had to work to see beneath. He chuckled and shook his head, memories with Edlyn scattering like dice. “If she’s the Demon King, it does make sense.”

He had wondered if Liqianyu forged it, but just now he no longer cared, his doubt thinning like morning fog. He flipped the page and saw a single line on the back: “Damn stinky Hero, you made me write a mess. This one’s off-limits. Heard me!”

“Don’t want me to see it? Then don’t stuff it in the envelope!” He wanted to flip a table like a sudden squall.

Speechless enough to claw at the walls, Eli’s mouth still lifted, a smile thin as thread. Now he was certain: this was Edlyn, that girl whose brain always misses a string, silly as a goose. Apart from her, who else could be this adorably dumb?

He tossed the blackened page away like a burnt leaf and picked up the next. It said this:

“Hero, if you can read this, you should know Angela and the ones we put at your side were all stand-ins, shadows like paper men. Mhm. I’m leaving, and you must have guessed the truth of me. Hero, I don’t know why. In our last life, you killed me. By reason, I should hate you to the bone, hatred like iron chains. In this life, I should dream every day of slicing you into a thousand pieces, blades like cold rain. But somehow, up till now, I don’t really hate you. I’m just, just unwilling to bow. So, since you beat me once, I will beat you too. Wait. When my army descends again, tremble before my noble shadow like grass in a storm. I’m not writing this to show off my scheme— No. I am absolutely writing it to show off that my IQ is higher than yours.”

Eli wore an auntie grin at that, his smile warm as late sun.

“Fine. I’m someone who keeps a ledger of debts and favors, ink clear as spring water. Although we have a feud from another life… Thank you for taking care of me for more than a year. I bungled myself into a half-human, half-Succubus state, and thanks to your blood, I stayed clear-headed till now. From now on, I don’t need you. My demon soul has awakened; a mere Succubus cannot sway me, its whisper thin as dust. Don’t get it wrong. This is not me explaining myself to you. Thank you for taking care of my sister for over a year. She is an ordinary human, not of the Demon Race. I had hoped you would keep caring for her. But feelings are a strange thing, tangled like vine. I can’t cut them clean, knife dull against silk. So don’t misunderstand her. She really is human. When war comes, please don’t hurt her. Hero, the happiest moment of this life was hearing that you died too, that rumor like autumn thunder. I don’t know why. My tone’s messy, ink splashing like rain. I won’t write more. If we meet again, you and I will be enemies. Last of all… Eli, thank you. But… goodbye.”

Eli stared at the last words, at the faint crust of dried tears, and sank into silence like a stone in a pond. He brushed that pale mark with his fingertips, gentle as wind on reeds, thinking of something he would not name.

After a long while, he sighed softly. “Demon King, huh? Brat, you’d better not be lying to me.”

“You dare say goodbye early? You dare set me up and trick me? Then write a smug, senseless letter afterward. Did you get my permission?”

Eli looked at the sky, squinting against light like steel, chewing on her words. The more he thought, the more irritability crawled through him like ants. Then an evil thought rose whole in his mind like smoke.

“Demon King? So what? I’ll break and tame you into a kitten. Even as a Demon King, it won’t save you.”

He didn’t know why, but a strange urge to conquer flooded his skull like a tide. Eli let out a breath, then remembered Edlyn’s question after she fainted and woke, a blade-thin whisper.

“Hero, have you killed?”

Looking back now, the look on her face was mockery, smile sharp as a hook. Eli’s expression turned storm-dark. “Stinky girl, what do you have to show off to me?”

Maybe he was angry. But at what? His own uselessness? Edlyn being the Demon King? Edlyn’s lies? Maybe all of it, and a trace of something nameless curling inside like smoke.

Eli returned to the place Xili had arranged, and found Liqianyu cradling hot tea, steam rising like mist. He smiled slightly, a faint arc like a new moon.

Liqianyu jolted. “Damn, you’re actually smiling at me? We’re doomed.” She stepped up and touched his forehead, palm cool as jade, puzzled. “No fever?”

Eli gently moved her hand away and gave her a light hug, warmth like a shawl. As she stiffened, he whispered at her ear, breath soft as a feather. “Thank you.”

“Uh… fine, fine. Wow, you’re so cheesy. Go away!” Liqianyu shoved him off and turned her face aside, but he caught the blush blooming at her ears like peach petals.

This tough girl could be shy too. Eli chuckled, then gazed into the distance, eyes steady as stone. “Brat, don’t let me catch you.”

Liqianyu stole a look at this suddenly different man, chin tucked like a wary bird. “What did Edlyn even write?” she muttered, curiosity scratching like a cat. She regretted not peeking when the letter was in her hand, regret sour as unripe plums.

Her impatience pricked through. “The Ninth Prince’s manor got wrecked like this. It’s your girl, right?”

Eli raised a brow, a blade-thin arc. “My girl? Sorry, she’s my servant.”

Liqianyu paused, then gave him a look of pure contempt, eyes flat as slate. Eli didn’t care. He nodded. “Yes, it was Edlyn’s doing.”

“So how do you wrap this up?”

“Heh. That brat already set everything up for me.”

“Huh?”

“If we don’t use this chance to help His Highness the Ninth Prince swat a few enemies, how could we face the wind?”

“You mean?”

“Even if only two of her stand-ins died, the stir is this big. I don’t believe the old king will sit still, his court quiet as winter water.”

“Eh?”

“Just wait.”