“In my head, like ink bleeding through old paper, I remember a novel about the mob…”

The girl in black stared at her reflection in the water screen, like a moon in a rippled pond—herself both familiar and foreign.

“A gangster novel?” The words drifted out like cigarette smoke in an alley.

“Yeah… I can’t remember when I read it… The heroine was in the mob, like a blade hidden in velvet, infiltrating for revenge, until… ugh… my head hurts!”

Pain clouded her face like thunder behind glass; sweat slid from her hair like dew beading on grass.

Seeing that, Yue Liuyi only shook her head, a willow in a breeze—this girl in black wasn’t a normal foot soldier.

“Don’t push it. We’ll talk later. Do you still remember your name?” Her voice was calm, a lake before dusk.

“Uh… of course. I’m Yin Mu… wait? Shemei? N-no… the mob heroine was named Shemei…” Her voice wavered like a leaf in wind.

The girl in black glanced at the little girls, wide-eyed like a fawn, as if fearing they’d tickle her again like playful rain.

“Got it. Please come with us, like a traveler following lantern light—we’re heading back.”

“B-back where? Are you handing me to the police? I… honestly, I don’t know anything…” Her words scattered like startled sparrows.

“No. We’ll find a doctor, let them take your pulse like reading rings in a tree.”

Yue Liuyi shook her head, a bell chiming soft, set the black-clad girl on the wheelchair, then set Little Rose there too like a petal on a leaf.

The red-haired loli was tiny as a thimble, light as fluff, and didn’t crowd the chair like mist on a window.

“Ah! Angel-sis doesn’t need to put me in the wheelchair. With my magic broom, I can move like a swallow.” Her tone fluttered like wings.

“That’d tire Little Rose out. Sit tight, everyone—like chicks in a nest—we’re going home.”

Pushing the small chair, Yue Liuyi rolled out of the kindergarten, wheels whispering like a stream.

…

…

After a day of bustle, the hour had turned to afternoon; the sunset poured gold on the street, dyeing everything like wheat in harvest.

Utility poles stretched long shadows like spears at rest; a few leaves drifted down like lazy snow, settling on the ground.

No birds called, yet no engines roared; at dusk the Winterwood District felt sealed off like an island in fog. Ruined towers and newborn vines soaked in this river of gold, giving off a charm that smelled older than time.

Yue Liuyi knocked, rap-rap like rain on bamboo, and came to the door of the Moon Post Bookstore.

“LittleSnow, I’m back!” Her voice rang like a bell over water.

“Xiaoyue’s back! Welcome home!” The reply leaped like a candle flame.

“Huh?” The syllable blinked like a firefly.

To her surprise, LittleSnow sat on the first-floor sofa like a lily on silk, needle and thread in hand, sewing her pale blue dress like stitching dawn to sky.

Something in her today was different, like frost polished to glass. Not the usual mischief, not the first-meeting gloom—she was a quiet, elegant lady, every frown and smile steeped in tea-soft grace.

“Xiaoyue worked hard all day, like a boat against the current. Do you want dinner first, a bath first, or…” Her voice trailed like a ribbon.

“Eh!!?” The exclamation popped like a bubble.

Even soaked in sunset, Yue Liuyi saw the blush on LittleSnow’s cheeks, pink as peach petals.

If LittleSnow kept going, the next line would summon Yue Dier—the mature, demure night-butterfly, a girl’s aura like moonlight on silk.

But Yue Liuyi hadn’t come back alone; soon LittleSnow noticed the girl her hands had tugged in like a net drawing fish.

“Huh? Xiaoyue brought home a brand-new girl again!” The words flared like sparks.

“Uh… LittleSnow, this one’s a prisoner! I didn’t pick up another stray. Her name’s Yin Mu, the black-clad woman captured in the mob raid.” Her defense stood like an umbrella in rain.

“Eh? Ugh!” The sound stumbled like a pebble on steps.

Yue Dier quickly set down the dress, her elegance falling away like petals in wind. “LittleSnow, you brought a prisoner home—why didn’t you tell me first!” Her rebuke snapped like dry twigs.

“Tell you… even that needs a heads-up?” The question hung like a paper kite.

“Of course!!!!” The shout cracked like lightning.

LittleSnow glared, her anger a blaze in green eyes. “Honestly! Xiaoyue clearly wants to bully big-sister, yet you bring a girl home! That’s so H! I’m not talking to you anymore!” Her pout puffed like a storm cloud.

“Huh? LittleSnow, you’ve got it wrong. She’s a real prisoner… not—” Her plea stretched like taffy.

“I don’t care!” The retort slammed like a door in wind.

She shot to her feet, fury hot as summer—so hot the clever LittleSnow forgot the injury in her leg like snow forgetting sun.

With a thud, she missed her step, silver-haired girl flailing like a gull in a squall, plunging toward the floor.

Worse, the needle and thread snagged, then spilled like a handful of stars scattering.

“Whoa! LittleSnow!!!!” The cry tore out like a kite string snapping.

In that instant, Yue Liuyi’s heart leapt to her throat like a fish breaking water. She wanted to save Dreamwood Star not just to heal the world’s weeds, but to build a nest for herself and LittleSnow.

Even if wanted, even if the inner-ring civilization tossed them aside like shed skins, they could live on Dreamwood Star, snug as winter robins. No more fretting about tomorrow, no more empty bowls. Everyone could wear pretty dresses like spring blossoms, eat meat like feast-day steam, and drink in beautiful scenery like cool moonlight.

So—

“Wind!” The word cracked like a whip.

Good thing—Yue Liuyi was a World Tree Maiden. Her body wasn’t swift as a cat, but her magic was a river in flood.

An updraft surged from the floor like a warm palm, lifted LittleSnow, then set the silver-haired girl down gently as a feather.

…

…

…

The little mishap ended quickly; serious again, LittleSnow sat upright on the sofa like a reed drawn taut, sorting the day’s events.

“Mm… I’ve got it.” Her verdict fell like a stamp on wax.

Yet her cheeks still flushed red as pomegranate seeds; those emerald eyes kept sneaking glances at Yue Liuyi like minnows flicking in shade.

“LittleSnow already knows what’s going on?” The question drifted like incense.

“More or less! Yin Mu, our little edgelord, you can’t clearly recall the heroine named Shemei anymore, right?” Her tone tapped like a fan.

“Yes… Your Majesty! It’s fuzzy, like a novel I read ages ago—the details have faded like ink in rain.” Her confession trembled like bamboo.

Called an edgelord or not, Yin Mu didn’t dare talk back—the silver-white hair! the beauty like frost-lit jade!

Even the red-haired loli treated her with reverence like a shrine, and she had the aura of a tsundere thorned rose.

The girl in black thought this must be the final boss, a moon behind clouds.

“Little Rose, the enchantment in your staff—amnesia, right?” The question flashed like a mirror.

“Mm… that’s right! When I raided banks, I used it to drop guards like poppies in sleep.” Her pride twinkled like a star.

“Then the result’s clear as morning.” Her conclusion rang like a bell.

“Huh? Clear how?” The curiosity bobbed like a cork.

“Don’t rush, Xiaoyue! Lie in big-sister’s arms, and I’ll tell you like a bedtime story.” Her invitation flowed like warm tea.

“Huh? But you just said you never wanted to see me again…” The protest wilted like a wilted leaf.

“Ugh!!!” Realizing she’d dug her own hole, Yue Dier grabbed Yue Liuyi’s arm like a lasso and pulled her into an embrace, a cocoon of silk. “Xiaoyue, lie still. No struggling!” Her command was a ribbon tied tight.

“Okay… got it…” The agreement sighed like wind through pine.

Being held by LittleSnow felt cozy as a quilt in winter; Yue Liuyi only gave a token wriggle, then settled like a kitten.

But what was the truth about the girl in black? The question hung like a lantern.

Cradling Yue Liuyi, Dixue began to explain, careful as a scribe by lamplight.