Dongfang Chen never expected it—across that long stretch of air, Dixue still sensed him, like moonlight finding a shadow.
Good thing he’d prepared his story, a scrap of shelter in a coming storm.
“Uh… a-are you President Yedie Snow? I’m a survivor from the Sky Voyager, so—”
Shatter!
Before he finished, another silver streak whooshed past his ear. The silver-haired girl’s shot bit closer to his skull; wind razors scraped his ear raw.
“Speak the truth.”
She stepped forward. Nobility in motion, a silver goddess none dared meet eye to eye.
“I…”
“You probably don’t know I can see through your lies, do you?”
“Huh?”
Dongfang Chen jolted back to that time Dixue spoke with Chulei, the words like thunder in memory.
(Back then, Lingwei didn’t tell Dixue that much. So… what does that mean?)
“Say it. Why are you tailing me?”
The arrowhead gathered a fierce white glow, like frost burning. If he kept lying, he knew the wound would be vast.
(Fortunately, my reason isn’t something shameful.)
“I… I want to protect you.”
He raised both hands, a tired smile like a cracked lantern.
“…No need.”
He’d thought she’d ask more. Instead, Dixue only confirmed his motive, then turned away like a swan leaving the shore.
“Take my advice—stop following me. Or I’ll remove you.”
“Huh?”
She pivoted cleanly and vanished on nimble steps, a slip of silver into the wind.
“…”
(Dixue… so this is how she faces strangers. Good thing I’ve been honest.)
Her coolness stung him; it fit like winter. It also proved Yue Liuyi was singular in her heart, a lone star in a clear night.
“What makes LittleSnow this serious…? All the more reason I can’t let you face danger alone.”
He’d understood Dixue’s destination. He didn’t rush. Only when her presence thinned did he head for the Celestial Courtyard.
…
…
The wide Celestial Courtyard had shed its shops and tiled floors, like a market washed clean by rain.
No sunlight, yet the ceiling glowed—a calm sky of cloud-light, quiet as a held breath.
Under the rainbow-hued central tree lay a field of white lilies, flawless petals swaying over green, innocence trembling like dew.
A cozy wooden cabin stood at the tree’s foot. By a flower-ringed table, a red-haired girl waited, smiling, for a shape she knew by heart.
“As promised, I came alone.”
The silver-haired girl stepped in, grace flowing, white as the lilies she mirrored.
“My beloved Snow, you’re finally here! I’ve waited for so long…”
“Stop.”
Dixue gripped her longbow and leveled it. Emerald eyes showed no ripple, like ice over a cold river.
“Huh? Not satisfied with our realm? Rest easy, Snow. From today, no one will disturb us. Everything here can be shaped to your liking.”
“You lured the Sky Voyager here for this? Regretfully, I can’t go along.”
“What? Weren’t you coming to meet me, Snow? In that case, I won’t spare the Sky Voyager’s passengers. They die for you, you know?”
“I’ll find a way to save them. Threats won’t make me bow. I already have someone I like, and I promised her we’d travel together.”
“That girl!! I should’ve killed her back then!!!”
Sikong Qinhui’s fist tightened, anger bright as a blade. “In that case, I’ll have to—”
“Mm… you finally dare to strike me?”
No emotion crossed Dixue’s face. She only tilted her head, voice soft as falling frost.
“No. To make you hesitate… pawns, come at my command!”
A red light flared in the red-haired girl’s palm. The ground shuddered; black figures clawed up from flowered soil, bodies slick with earth.
They were human stone statues—now striding. Heavy steps crushed white lotus. Black mist swirled as they surged from all sides toward Dixue.
“What—!”
For the first time in Sikong Qinhui’s siege, Dixue’s mask shifted. These statues were the Sky Voyager’s crew—Captain Duanmu Liang and his aides.
“If you destroy Captain Duanmu’s statue, he dies. Faced with a puppet forged from master-grade material, what will you do, Dixue?”
“You…”
The kindly, long-bearded statue moved with speed no stone should own. Far one heartbeat, in her face the next, a heavy fist crashing down.
On any other day, Dixue would counter with her silver bow, swift as a hawk. Today, she could only slip aside. She couldn’t harden her heart to kill a respected captain.
The other statues attacked too—simple forms, ruthless speed. She couldn’t cast a barrier, couldn’t even cleanly parry. She dodged, again and again, a white ripple in a black tide.
“Yes, yes, keep pressing her! Drain Snow’s strength, and she’s mine.”
The Third Princess directed the statues, cutting off every path, like nets tightening in a storm.
“You’re being used, Third Princess! That person—there’s no way he’s so simple…”
Dixue’s calm frayed. A bead of sweat slid from her hair, a bright pin on silver. Too many statues; even she was stretched thin.
“‘Third Princess’… such a distant title,” the red-haired girl murmured, eyes narrowing. “Being used—so what. Dixue, did you know? If I can have you, I’ll give up everything. Even the name Third Princess. Even—”
“…”
“Butterfly Snow President, I’ll help!”
Dongfang Chen arrived at last—and saw Dixue besieged, silver amid black.
“Who are you… I told you not to come. Go. You’ll die!”
Even under pressure, her ear caught his voice; she knew him by sound, like knowing rain by scent.
“Trash fish, is it? My gathering with Dixue doesn’t need you!”
Red hair blazing, she drew her blade, hatred a banner. She wouldn’t strike Dixue—but strays, she’d cut without mercy. Above all, no man would stain the sanctum she imagined for her and Dixue.
The blood-red blade roared to life—flames more than thirty feet long, a sky-splitting arc aimed at the black-haired boy. In her mind, he burned to clean ash, not a drop of foul blood left.
But—
“I said—don’t underestimate me!”
Dongfang Chen’s right hand traced a half circle. Firework sparks blossomed around him, April cherry petals turned to light, lively flickers dancing.
It was the Stellar Moon Compass in another form—its daylight-forged, strengthened face. Same core, different song. The sun brings fire’s direct heat, nothing like the moon’s gentle grace.
His fingers clenched. The drifting sparks surged at the red-haired girl, a river of flame that met her blade and burst. Explosions cloaked her in rolling light.
“Ugh!”
Each burst carried magic’s sting and a boxer’s weight. She raised her sword and carved an airtight wall of steel to hold it back.
“Butterfly Snow President, I can pin her for three seconds. Then she’s yours!”
“Enough.”
The statues stuttered; their commander reeled, her orders frayed. Dixue seized the opening and slid free, silver like a swift butterfly. Her bowstring sang; a radiant silver shot lanced out.
“Check!”
The silver line speared the firelight. As flame thinned, the Third Princess’s weapon fell clanging to the ground.
“Sikong Qinhui, I truly can’t be with you.”
Dixue drew the string tight. Her arrowhead fixed on the red-haired girl, steady as a winter star.
“Is… that so?”
Sikong Qinhui looked at Dixue, then closed her eyes, lashes lowering like curtains.
She didn’t strike. She let resistance go, as if surrender were the only way left to be near the snow.
