Still, Gray found Dixue, like ash drifting unerringly toward a snowflake.

The gray-haired girl lowered her head; her pupils held a gloom, heavy as winter clouds.

“Sorry… Butterfly Snow President, I want… to ask you for something…”

“Alright,” Dixue said, voice calm as a quiet stream. “Go on.”

“Can we hand Xiaohei to the outsiders for punishment? As for the Spring of Origin…”

To be cast into the Spring of Origin was the gravest sentence in the Elven Kingdom, a verdict like thunder sealed in roots.

Elves cherish life and honor nature, like trees bending to wind yet refusing the axe.

So there’s no death penalty under the World Tree’s shade. Even so, they keep a few measures, thorns to keep the grove from rotting.

The Spring of Origin is one of those thorns.

It’s a magic spring swelling with immense power, surging upon the World Tree like moonlight pouring through leaves.

Elves believe any sin, no matter how feral, can be washed clean in that fountain, like soot rinsed from dawn.

And it’s true: those cast into the Spring of Origin are purified into a simple pixie or a guardian spirit; malice dissolves like ink in rain.

But it is a dissolving of flesh. The magic there is a flood. Any living body entering is scoured by that current; only the soul remains, clear as a bell tone after the storm.

Such a severe sentence is reserved for the darkest crimes within the elves. Xiaohei’s sins don’t quite rise to that height, yet the shadow of it could still fall on her.

Dixue clearly knew the Spring’s weight. Faced with Gray’s request, she nodded, crisp as a snapped twig.

“Mm. I promise you. I won’t hand Xiaohei to the Elven Parliament.”

“Tha—”

Gray’s lips shaped thanks, then closed. Gratitude felt thin as paper.

She nodded instead, eyes steady on Dixue, and spoke with ceremony, like placing a blade on an altar.

“As thanks, I’d like to formally apply to join the Azure Front. From now on, I’ll serve the Butterfly Snow President.”

“Eh!? That’s not necessary! You already gave me seeds, Master Gray. I’m already grateful. This—there’s no need to repay me like that.”

“It’s not just gratitude. I admire you.”

“Eh? Admire?”

“I heard a lot about you from Zaocun and Lingwei,” Gray said, voice soft as mist. “You purified a lost world. That’s incredible. I want to learn more. The Elven Kingdom can’t keep treading in place.”

She must mean the Lost City.

But Dixue wouldn’t lie to a comrade, not even under moonlight.

“Uu… to be honest… I—and Xiao Yue—we’re only disguised as elves. Our true selves aren’t ordinary elves at all…”

“It’s alright,” Gray said, gentle as ash settling. “I knew that already.”

“Eh?”

“The Butterfly Snow President is a princess of the Night Clan, isn’t she?”

“Ha!? Wait—you can’t say that!!”

Dixue darted forward and clapped a hand over Gray’s mouth, quick as a startled swallow.

The silver-haired girl glanced around, nerves fluttering like a moth’s wing. Thank the stars Yue Liuyi wasn’t here. Otherwise her secret would spill like scattered pearls.

But—

“Eh? What are you saying… what mustn’t be said…”

Perfectly unlucky, Yue Liuyi pushed the door open right then, breeze at her heels.

“N-Nothing. Nothing at all!!!”

Yedie Snow sprang up and blocked the gray-haired girl behind her. The way she hovered and fidgeted was as suspicious as a cat with fish on her breath.

“Hmm… I think I heard something about a princess…”

“Nope, nope! Yue, you misheard! > <”

Her silver hair shook like a rattle-drum, ribbon and strands swaying in a cute little storm.

“Butterfly Snow President, what’s this about a princess… is it something that can’t be said?”

“Of course it can’t! Back home, a princess has to… mm—”

She caught herself, glanced at Yue, and her cheeks flushed rose. In her emerald eyes, shyness bloomed like spring grass.

“Princess? From LittleSnow’s homeland? So LittleSnow’s hometown is a monarchy? Right, right! I still don’t know where LittleSnow is from. Can you tell me?”

A chance at last. Yue looked at Dixue with hopeful eyes, bright as stars in a lake.

From Dixue’s earlier stories, Yue had sensed it: LittleSnow’s home wasn’t in Dragon Heaven. Like her, LittleSnow must be from some far-off planet, a lantern on a distant shore.

“Uu… my hometown… it’s a beautiful star. Only… mm! That’s it! I’ll tell you next time, Yue!”

“Uu? LittleSnow is so ‘short’! That’s all already?!”

“Yep, yep—let’s eat! My tummy’s growling like a little drum~”

“Don’t go all cutesy at a time like this!”

…

It’d been ages since everyone gathered. So lunch was Dragon Heaven’s traditional comfort—dumplings.

Lingwei had brought flour from the academy. Emily had foraged the vegetables herself. Mino hauled in meat from the outside, like a hunter with sunrise on her back.

(Mino really loves meat. She keeps a stash on her at all times.)

The girls made many fillings for everyone’s tastes—three-veg, cabbage-and-pork, even Aiskot grass—blending Dragon Heaven’s tradition with elven craft, like a street fair conjured under trees.

“I’ll roll the wrappers! Uu… it tore…”

Body-swap aftereffects still lingered; the wound from last night’s dream ached like a hidden bruise. Yue couldn’t control her wrist strength. Even a simple wrapper turned uneven, splitting like wet paper.

“Hehe, don’t be upset! If you don’t feel well, let your big sisters do it.”

“Uu…”

Yue looked sadly at her hands, a mascot in a workshop, a kite with no wind—useless and sore.

“Lady Yue Liuyi! I, Gong Linxun, will go through fire and—huh?”

Gong Linxun finally had a chance to show off, but got dragged away at once…

He met a catfolk girl’s stern stare. Her eyes said, come any closer to Sister Yue and I’ll shred you like old bark.

Gong Linxun trembled, a leaf in a gust, and let Zaocun haul him into the brush. After she “handled” him, Zaocun returned beaming, sunlight in her grin, and ran straight to Yue.

“Sis Yue! Sis Yue! Where does it hurt? Zaocun’s got a great trick!”

“You do? Mm… my wrist’s a little sore…”

“I do!”

Zaocun leaned close, cheek to Yue’s slender wrist, big cat eyes sparkling like dew.

“Zaocun?”

“Lick~”

“Don’t do that kind of thing!!!!!!!!!”

…

At last, the dumplings of many fillings tumbled into the pot, bobbing like little moons.

Tiger Girl and Mino had processed the kindling, using offcuts from the timber walls.

As for cooking, the ladle went to the one who excelled at it—Zero Wei.

“I added some magic pearls to the dumplings. If you bite one, you’ve hit the jackpot~”

Zero Wei raised an arm in triumph. Slipping coins into dumplings is an old custom in Dragon Heaven and the Yingyao Kingdom.

They had no coins now, so they used fresh river-mussel pearls, cool as morning drops.

When in Rome, as the stream teaches the stone.

“Eh? So the East has a tradition like that? How fun! Noted!”

Lia watched dumplings roll in the boiling water, eyes bright as lanterns.

Back home, only on Dragon Street could she find Eastern food like this. Tasty then, but none of this warmth, this festival of steam.

“Ah… pearls? Then I can’t swallow them whole.”

Tiger Girl looked aggrieved, like a python told to sip tea. Not gulping dumplings whole felt like a grave loss.

“Mm, but with pearls, even if you swallow by mistake, it should be fine…”

“Mino, you’d better eat slow.”

The lively scene washed over Yue like sunlight through leaves. In that glow, she sensed something. Though they came from different worlds, their hunger for good things was the same, a shared fire.

But without exchange, walls stay up like frost. No race arrives friendly; only stubborn effort makes a bridge.

…

Soon, steaming dumplings were carried out by a few male adventurers, bowls like clouds in their hands.

“Fresh dumplings, young ladies. Please enjoy.”

Chulei, a bartender by trade, even serving dumplings, moved with a butler’s grace, smooth as poured tea.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. The next batch is almost ready. Please wait a moment.”

The pot wasn’t big, so batches had to go in under a clattering lid.

The men showed gentlemanly patience, like stones making way for river water. They let the girls eat first.

“Eh? Yue, why aren’t you eating?”

“Ah, um… I like them better when they’re cool.”

“Eh? Yue, that’s a lie! Trying to trick your big sis… so naughty.”

“Uu!”

Yue had totally forgotten LittleSnow’s little ability… Really, she was just embarrassed. Back then, at times like this, she’d been the boy.

“Sigh… but if you want to eat later, that’s fine too… Here. This is your favorite filling.”

“Eh? This filling… it’s amazing! How did LittleSnow know?”

“Knowing Yue’s tastes is a big sister’s duty!”

…

The dumplings were delicious, but after receiving a whole bowlful—served in a rice-tree husk—Yue didn’t finish them. She slipped off alone toward the cave, light as a shadow in grass.

Eating together made a happy noise. But Xiaohei and the others would feel pitiful, like sparrows listening through a wall. They were so small. They needed care.

She didn’t expect someone was already there.

“Ailuna?”

The pink-haired girl was crouched beside Xiaohei, feeding her dumplings with careful fingers, gentle as petals.

“Eh? Yue-chan? I’m feeding Xiaohei! Want to join me?”

Seeing the blue-haired girl, Ailuna waved, cheerful as a bell.

Maybe it was the amnesia. Last night, she’d been the only one who didn’t wake up crying. Today, she was all energy, volunteering to tend the captives like a sunbeam with sleeves rolled up.

“Mm… I brought some dumplings… but if you’ve got her, I guess mine aren’t needed.”

“So good… so good…”

Abandoned by her sister—was that the ache? Xiaohei ate and cried, tears like salt in broth.

But Yue knew: the gray-haired girl wasn’t as cold and gloomy as she looked on the surface.

And Xiaohei hadn’t been cast aside.

Because a gray shadow hid in the cave’s corner, face veiled like a dusk veil.

In her hands, Gray held a fresh bowl of dumplings, steam curling up like a quiet prayer.