“If that’s the case…”

Sikong Qinhui whipped out a black pellet like a night seed and swallowed it whole.

“What are you doing, Qinhui!?”

“Hmph…”

Her red hair framed a smile—and then blue veins crawled like vines, muscle swelled like storm clouds, bone twisted like roots. Crimson scales swallowed tender skin, and razor claws replaced flawless hands.

“Aaaah!”

She dropped to one knee, howling like a beast in a pit. In a blink, the petite, headstrong girl was gone; a massive half-dragon rose in her place like a blood-red monument.

Crimson eyes burned without reason, hungry for slaughter like a furnace. A low, rasping growl shook her throat. Deep red scales lacquered her body, linked to a scarlet tail, her height rearing to four meters like a reared cliff.

“This—!!”

Dongfang Chen stared, tongue-tied, as if lightning had struck his thoughts. Legend said dragon-blooded royals could awaken, become flying dragons, and wield overwhelming might. Yet Qinhui’s half-dragon form felt wrong, a sour note against memory.

(This unease… like cold fog creeping up my spine.)

No time to think—the half-dragon lunged from arm’s reach. Flame Feathers that could bind the red-haired girl for three seconds now couldn’t stall a heartbeat; sparks skittered off her hide like rain on iron and vanished.

Claws ripped through the feathered fire and slashed at Dongfang Chen. The force was a flash flood, the speed beyond human limit; he barely shaped a Flame Feather shield before the collision hurled him back like driftwood.

His tiger’s mouth went numb; blood rose hot in his throat. If it had been Yue Liuyi, her joints would’ve popped—this wouldn’t be “light injuries.”

It was a chasm of species, a canyon you couldn’t bridge with tricks. Dragons were born with magic resistance like stone under rain, and their physical power was crushing like a falling mountain. Even a roll couldn’t escape the danger zone; he had to take it head-on like a rock in a torrent.

But the half-dragon never paused; she moved like a machine that didn’t breathe. Claws lifted; lilies burst skyward like white snow in fire, a requiem braided from flame and purity, rushing at him.

Luckily, Dixue arrived like moonlight at the last moment. Without a commander, the stone statues’ siege faltered and went sluggish. The silver-haired girl tapped the earth and sprang, a swallow cutting air, landing behind the half-dragon.

Instinct yanked the half-dragon’s strike away; she spun and clawed back. What met those blades was a burst of silver—Dixue loosed midair, moon-silver straight as a falling star, her balance perfect.

The claws were driven back, but when the glow thinned, they were still pristine.

Dragon-scale armor held like a mountain wall, the hands hardest of all.

“Her scales are thick. Head and belly—those are the weak points!”

Even with his warning, the silver-haired girl didn’t answer. She landed, pulled again, and kept aiming at the claws; naturally, it did nothing. The half-dragon pressed in like a storm front.

Under attack, Dixue’s brows pinched like a hairline crack. She was stubborn snow, one arrow after another, stalling the advance, refusing to melt.

(Does LittleSnow not trust me… or does she need the half-dragon pinned? I get it!!)

A spark leapt in Dongfang Chen’s chest, quick as flint. He was a boy full of schemes; otherwise he wouldn’t have stepped onto the New Land alone.

Wrecked lilies carpeted the field. Underfoot lay soil, dark and thirsty.

In half-dragon form, her edge was brute power and speed like lightning.

So…

“I should still be able to cast water magic!!”

Blue light fanned off him like scattered fish scales. He chanted Torrent, a water spell that hit like a battering ram. Wide spread, low kill—because the target wasn’t her, but the earth at her feet.

Water roared down like a cliffside fall. A cloudburst hammered the once-white lily field; in a breath, elegance drowned into mud, grace turned to mire.

The half-dragon’s charge bogged. Swamp-thick ground glued her steps like tar. Her bulk stopped being an edge; she sank into layered pits like a trapped beast.

She became a living target. Dixue seized the fleeting window like a hawk.

The silver-haired girl drew her brightest arrow. Endless silver condensed on the tip, a force Dongfang Chen had never seen, like moonlight forged to iron.

But, before that arrow, those mad red pupils showed a trace of release—like a prisoner seeing dawn.

…

I know what you like was never me.

With her, you never spared me a glance, like wind passing a reed.

Even so, I still like you—so very, very much—like a moth in moonfire.

Because in this world, only you ever gave me your true heart.

Only you took me along to play, like a hand reaching into winter.

Only you told me stories of your hometown, warm as a brazier.

Only you dared protect me when other princesses bullied me, a shield in a storm.

Only you…

I prayed to the gods. I begged her to tell me how to make you love me.

But noble gods never answered a girl like me—high clouds that don’t rain.

Only the devil replied, a whisper in the dark.

So I made a pact with the devil, only to grasp you, like grasping smoke.

On the day she died,

I can’t forget your stunned face—ice in my chest.

I know I did wrong.

I know that only pushed you farther away, like tides pulling back.

But it couldn’t be undone.

A wrong road, once stepped on, has no turning back—stones behind, cliff ahead.

So… with things as they are—

If I can’t make you love me,

then please kill me yourself, and end this winter.

…

Yet—

The silver light didn’t pierce the half-dragon’s body.

Silver turned to ice. Cold exploded from the arrowhead, mixed with mud and torrent, and in an instant shaped a crystal mountain.

The impact knocked the half-dragon out. The prison of ice caught her, froze her, held her like winter’s fist.

Lilies whirled through the air like scattered snow. The battle settled to dust.

“We did it!!”

Dongfang Chen hopped in joy, heart beating like a drum. It was the defeat plan he’d pictured, but he hadn’t expected Dixue to execute it so perfectly. To condense such a massive block in one shot—her mastery of magic stunned him like thunder.

But… Dixue didn’t celebrate. She raised her bow and sighted the black-haired boy, cold as frost.

“Eh?”

Dongfang Chen froze, clueless, breath held like a bird under hawk’s shadow.

“Who are you, really?”

Shock and anger seized Dixue’s heart like a sudden gale. Yes, the boy had cooperated well; without him, she wouldn’t have beaten Sikong Qinhui so easily.

But it felt too well—like someone reading her next step before her foot fell. That kind of familiarity, if not forged by day and night together, meant he’d studied her on purpose. The stranger before her clearly belonged to the latter.

More crucial, Dixue felt her heart stir toward him—a warmth too familiar, too safe. Like when she was with Xiaoyue, gentle as lamplight. It was the feeling she treasured most; it shouldn’t bloom for a stranger at first sight.

(Impossible. Maybe he used some charm on me… A power that plucks a girl’s love at will—that’s the most hateful!!)

So Dixue raised her bow, and her voice fell solemn, like snow at dusk.

If Dongfang Chen knew this was why she was hostile, he’d die of grievance. Under that oppressive aim like a drawn winter, he could only say:

“Butterfly Snow President, I’m just an adventurer headed for the New Land… Please, trust me. I mean no harm!”

“I said I don’t need your protection. Why did you follow?”

“B-because I…”

Her gaze felt like it saw through fog and bone. He couldn’t dodge, couldn’t stall.

“Because I—I like you…”

(Is that true? Another suitor?)

Facing someone who liked her, Dixue wouldn’t accept, but she wouldn’t spit either. She lowered the bow, her voice cold as an icicle:

“Give up. I already have someone I like. I’ve sworn I’ll be hers and hers alone.”

“Eh?”

Dongfang Chen blinked, stunned, the meaning striking like sleet.

“And your stalking disgusts me. Still, thank you for the help. This will be your reward. From now on, don’t approach me.”

Dixue waved. A feather drifted down like snow into Dongfang Chen’s palm.

“This is an Angel Feather. As payment for your assistance, it’s enough.”

“But…”

He knew the Angel Feather was precious, but compared to Dixue, it was ash to flame.

“Leave. If you keep tailing me, I’ll freeze you.”

“…”

As Dongfang Chen wavered like a reed in wind, a ripple of magic flickered beside a tree.

A cerulean portal opened on the ground like a pond of sky. A man sprinted out, panic spilling like spilled water.

“Your Highness, bad news!!! Our base has fallen. They betrayed us… Your Highness!?”

He wore black, his features fine and clear. He was the Third Princess’s attendant—Xia Jiajun.

Xia Jiajun stared wide-eyed at the half-dragoned Third Princess, then at Dixue and Dongfang Chen. He yanked out his sword, voice shaking like iron on ice: “What did you do to Her Highness? Why did she trigger that ability!?”

“The loyal attendant of the Third Princess? I know you.”

Dixue dipped her chin and walked to the ice. A ribbon of silver swept across; the frozen half-dragon shrank, becoming the small red-haired girl again, like winter thawing to spring.

Her clothes were shredded, barely covering her. She slept within the crystal, skin glinting faintly through the ice, crisscrossed with cracks like parched earth. Those weren’t Dixue’s doing; they were the scars left by a forced change.

“Put Her Highness down, or I’ll act!”

Even knowing he wasn’t a match for Thousand Night Snow, Xia Jiajun still stood like a trembling spear.

“Fine. I’ll hand her to you. Hide her in the New Land for a while.”

“Eh?”

The answer jolted both Xia Jiajun and Dongfang Chen like a bell.

The silver-haired girl reshaped the ice, molding it to coffin size. The crystal coffin cradled the sleeping Third Princess, and Dixue passed it into Xia Jiajun’s hands like winter passing a burden to spring.

Once her wounds knit like frost sealing a crack, I’ll come myself to ask what happened two years ago...

Dixue slowly shook her head, sorrow bruising her eyes like twilight. The World Tree you held hostage—did the Murder Fiend wrench it away like a storm tearing a banner?

“You... how do you know?!” he blurted, breath snagging like a torn kite.

Because that voice was sent to Xiaoyue... like a bell dropping into still water.

Gazing into the sky pale as washed jade, Dixue murmured.