Photinia blossoms are ornamental beauties, pale as morning milk and clustered like clouds around a moonlit peak.

Their petals gather in soft whorls, a flock of white moths settling on green boughs.

They bloom long and heavy, a snowdrift of flowers that keeps insects at bay, so campuses plant them like pearls along a path.

But this darling of gardens is a lich-king among flowers, a smile hiding a blade in the sheath.

Because the scent it breathes out is... a tidal wave you can’t forget, a spring storm gone wrong.

“Wah!”

The silver-haired girl flinched like a deer at a snapped twig, slipping aside; sticky fruit pulp still clung to Dixue, and if the photinia “fragrance” stained her too...

The furious old granny showed no mercy, her breath like frost under old pines.

She folded the white-flower scent into droplets, misted it into a spray, and shot it at Yue Liuyi like sleet on a north wind.

She meant to teach this sky-blind little girl a lesson, a thunderclap to clear the heat.

“Ugh!”

Faced with a storm of pearly beads heavy with flower-reek, Yue Liuyi clapped a hand over her nose like a kestrel folding its wings.

The white rain swept in, a curtain falling to swallow Yue like mist swallowing a bridge.

A figure stepped in front of the blue-haired girl, a mountain standing between river and flood.

“Huh?”

Yue’s eyes flew wide, stars flaring on a night lake—she knew that silhouette like a favorite path home.

The silver-haired girl opened her arms, a crane spreading bright wings, and caught almost all the incoming flower-spray; her pure-white form was inked by blossom dew like frost smudged with ash.

“LittleSnow!”

Yue cried out and ran to her, feet light as a startled sparrow; she knew Dixue had already dodged, then wheeled back like a comet to shield her.

“Yue, don’t help me...”

Dixue shook her head, slow as a willow in a tired wind; right now she looked “covered in wounds,” a fallen swan in a muddy pond.

Sweet-sour blossom scent and sticky honey threaded over her skin like rain on porcelain.

For a girl, this kind of thing is a nightmare with teeth, a shadow under the lamp.

“This can’t be! LittleSnow jumped back in to protect me—”

“Your sister’s already been defiled... so, Yue, give up on me... or you’ll be dragged down too...”

The silver-haired girl’s head tipped, a frost-blown reed; the emerald in her eyes dulled like jade in dust as she stared at nothing.

“Give up? I can’t!” Yue’s voice broke, a bell in a sudden storm.

“Please forget your sister, then find a new one...” Dixue’s voice thinned like rain vanishing on hot sand.

“That’s not happening. Even if I fall, I’m falling with LittleSnow!” Yue’s vow flashed like a knife drawn in moonlight.

“No. Yue is pure, a lotus in clear water. You mustn’t end up like me...” Dixue’s refusal landed like a pale leaf on dark water.

“LittleSnow, I...”

Their back-and-forth froze every girl present like frost catching leaves at dawn.

Ailuna and Zaocun stood stunned, two deer in lantern light, not knowing left from right.

San Hua Zhi went slack too, a stone in deep moss, unreadable.

Only the black-haired girl—Dixue’s old partner—caught on in a heartbeat, a hawk seeing the rabbit in grass.

Xiang Xiaoyan drew her sword with a river’s hiss and leveled it at the elven granny, anger flaring like a torch in dry wind.

“It’s you! Because of you, those two can’t be together!” Her words struck like arrows against a drum.

Her ink-black hair streamed like night tide, and she stood sharp and proud, boyish as a young pine in fresh snow.

“N-no, I... I didn’t...” The old elf froze, a sparrow in a cat’s gaze.

“Hmph! You old hag, you’re just jealous of the girls’ love, trying to split them up. Using this kind of trick? Lower than a beast!” Xiaoyan’s tongue cracked like thunder.

“I, I...” The granny’s voice fluttered like a torn kite.

“So shameless. True love should be guarded like a lamp under rain—” Xiaoyan pressed on, a storm rolling over roofs.

You had to admit, Xiaoyan’s sharp tongue hit like sleet. Even the old elf couldn’t stand under it; words bit like winter.

Looking at the two girls clinging to each other, cherishing each other like two tea buds in one cup, the old elf’s tears slid down like dew.

“It’s— it’s cleanser! Take it, and don’t you dare break up!!!” She lobbed a tiny bottle that flashed like a silver fish, sobbed, and ran off without looking back, a leaf skittering down the road.

Zaocun and Ailuna were left staring at each other, two carp below clear ice.

What just happened?

Ailuna blinked her big eyes, owlish and lost, no thread to hold.

San Hua Zhi, though, looked startled; her cheeks bloomed with rose, as if a memory opened like a sealed box.

They’d used this trick before—Dixue and Yue—back when they “interrogated” the Blood Dancer, a play on a stormy stage.

“Hehe, Yue, your acting was spot on,” Dixue said, grin bright as a fox in moonlight.

“You’re the crafty one, coming up with that,” Yue replied, a smile rippling like sun on a pond.

“Our opponent isn’t evil, right? Elves love romance dramas like spring loves plum blossom. That granny’s no exception. If we can skip a fight, it’s a good day,” Dixue said, voice light as wind through bamboo.

“Mm. Truly,” Yue nodded, relief spreading like warm tea through the chest.

“By the way, Yue, you’re sticky with fruit juice too. I’ll wash you down,” Dixue added, mischief glittering like frost.

“Eh? Wash you first, LittleSnow!” Yue flushed, pink as peach bloom.

“Then we’ll wash together!” Dixue laughed, bells on a red string.

“Together, as in—” Yue’s words tangled like ivy.

“She ran away already. You two can stop playing cute!” Xiaoyan finally exploded from the side, a kettle whistling at full boil.

After a quick clean, the girls were neat as fresh laundry, and they set off again, feet light as swallows—back to the road.

With breath to spare, Yue let her eyes wander over the elven palace, sight drifting like a slow kite.

Inside was bright, light pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows like winter sun on snow; beyond lay a garden, a tapestry of green.

Graceful patterns curled along the walls like vines in frost, and columns were wrapped in living branches and clinging vines, a braided forest under a roof.

Moisture drifted through the leaves like silver smoke, and cool comfort pooled everywhere, a mountain spring in summer heat.

Few people moved here; elven royalty didn’t need a hive of servants like human courts, a quiet pond instead of a busy harbor.

So on their way they saw almost no elves; the few they did catch darted away like shy deer, no chance to talk.

Yue turned to Ailuna for a thread to follow, her voice soft as rain tapping eaves.

“Ailuna, does this place ring a bell?”

“A little... just a little,” Ailuna said, eyes big as moons, brows knitting like two tiny bows.

“I think I’ve been here...”

“What about Tisinate? Any memory?” Yue asked, voice careful as hands cupping a flame.

“N-no... I don’t remember that name at all. Is she the Elven Queen? My... manager?” Ailuna’s words trembled like reeds in a lake breeze; in her pink gaze, a guess stirred like a fish under lily pads.

“Probably not. To be precise, Ailuna is the one who manages the whole Elven Forest,” Yue said, gentle as a hand smoothing silk.

“No way,” Ailuna forced a smile that wilted like a cut flower, then lifted her head. “I’m not capable. I’m the one who needs managing!”

“Ailuna...” Yue’s heart tightened, a string plucked too hard.

Before she could speak more, light flared at the end of the corridor, a dawn blooming at the tunnel’s mouth.

“What’s that?”

“The entrance to the World Tree’s core,” Dixue murmured, eyes narrowing like a hunter at a glint. “So it was hidden there.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go see.”

The light led them to a courtyard neither small nor large, a stone lake ringed by green.

Vines and branches layered the edges like woven armor, a living wall to bar intruders.

But now, the plants had opened a path like a river cutting the reeds, as if a gate had nodded yes.

The brilliance came from a pool, a spring set straight into the earth like an eye in the ground; its clarity looked unearthly, a shard of sky melted into water.

Even at a distance, Yue felt the power in it pressing like a tide; though colorless, the water made her magic leap like sparrows, surging out in warm waves.

“Why aren’t there any fish?” Zaocun asked, as expected, a cat peering into a bowl.

“Of course no fish,” Dixue said, mouth quirking like a fox. “Forget fish—humans and elves who go in get dissolved.”

“Wah! So scary. Zaocun doesn’t want fish anymore!” Zaocun flapped her hands like a chick in grain.

“Dissolved? LittleSnow, then this is...” Yue’s eyes flicked like lightning.

“Yeah. The elves’ sacred ground—the Source Spring. I didn’t expect Tisinate to lace the passage to the World Tree’s core right here,” Dixue said, her head tilting like a crane’s as she studied the pool. She gestured everyone back, palm flat as a leaf.

“Ailuna’s come here... many times,” the World Tree Maiden murmured, gaze locked on the spring, fingers pinching Yue’s hem like a child gripping a talisman.

Light flickered in her pupils like fish in a deep well; something pressed up from the dark of her mind, a seed splitting soil.

Yue’s worry rose first, a chill over warm tea. “LittleSnow, is Ailuna okay? If she—”

“It’s a bit tricky,” Dixue said, voice low as moss. “In that case, I can only take two people in.”

She thought for a heartbeat, then took Yue’s hand and Ailuna’s hand, one left, one right, like threading beads on a string.

“Wait, Dixue... are you going to use that?” Xiang Xiaoyan stepped up, her gaze a needle trying to stitch Dixue’s intent.

“Mm. You, San Hua Zhi, and Zaocun wait here,” Dixue said, steady as a stone lantern.

“...Got it,” Xiaoyan answered, a nod like a sword tip.

“What? Are you all going to jump in and melt? Don’t, Dixue! Zaocun hasn’t had enough fish snacks yet, and still wants to hug Sister Yue...” Zaocun wailed, arms spread like a windmill.

“Nope. Relax,” Dixue smiled. “If I lead, you’ll be fine. Tisinate used the Source Spring’s power to open a portal to the World Tree’s core. You have to enter the water to use it.”

“Eh? LittleSnow, I’m going in with you?” Yue asked, pulse fluttering like a moth.

“Yeah. Breeze is likely in there too. Don’t worry. You won’t melt,” Dixue said, tone bright as sunlight on ripples.

“No problem,” Yue answered without a second thought, trust rising first, solid as a mountain.

Master Gray had used this spring’s scary tale to spook Little Black before, a wolf story under a new moon. But because it was LittleSnow, Yue’s fear couldn’t find purchase.

Ailuna still shook like a leaf, yet she balled her fists like two tiny stones.

“The World Tree’s source... is that where I used to live?” she asked, voice as soft as moss.

“Yes. On most days, Ailuna sleeps there,” Dixue said, tender as rain on seedlings.

“Then I’ll go. For—” Ailuna swallowed the rest, the word hanging like a lantern in fog.

“Hehe, no need to worry,” Dixue said. “Just treat it like a fun little adventure, a stroll through fireflies.”

“An adventure feels too— ugh! But somehow I can’t worry,” Yue laughed, the tension dropping like a cloak.

Standing before the silver-haired girl, Yue couldn’t stay solemn; Dixue had that magic—by her side, the heart felt light as wind.

“That’s a big sister’s job,” Dixue grinned. “So, Yue, change into this.”

“Eh!? LittleSnow— whoa! Why do you even have that! This is so not the time!”

“If we’re jumping into a spring, of course you wear this,” Dixue said, eyes sparkling like stars caught in ice.

“Ugh!”

Yue stumbled back a step, as Dixue pulled from her waist pouch an azure school swimsuit, blue as a summer sky caught in silk.