“Yeah, set her in the wheelchair, like laying a tired bird into a nest.”

Together with Purple Illusion, Yue Liuyi lifted the purple‑haired girl into the chair, her hands light as drifting snow.

Purple Dream stayed lost in a deep sleep, a winter lake with no ripple, and she’s been like this for years.

“Big sis... she can still be saved, right?” Her voice shook like a reed in the wind.

Purple Illusion lifted her head, cautious as a doe, and asked Yue Liuyi.

“Mm, I should be able to handle it,” she said, calm as a still pond.

“Hah, bold talk, girl,” Li Jue sneered, his laugh a rusty hinge in the dark. “You don’t know Life Withering Syndrome is a death sentence in human medicine?”

Off to the side, Li Jue’s smile was thin as a knife in rain.

“I don’t care either way,” he shrugged, tossing the words like pebbles into a ditch. “Once this job’s done, I’m out of the Star‑Gel industry. But this girl? She won’t last more than a few months.”

He wasn’t wrong. Purple Dream’s illness was terminal, her body decaying piece by piece, cells like wilted petals that no longer divide or flourish, turning to quiet ash.

For now, only a life‑support pod could keep a flicker alive, a lantern guttering in a storm.

Since that battle with Wan Han, Yue Liuyi had grasped new threads, ideas weaving like silk in her mind. That man could change cellular patterns, unlocking life’s hidden potential like tapping a buried spring. She could try, step by step, to find a way to turn the loom.

And even if she failed, the World Tree Maiden’s power was purer than any pod, like fresh sap compared to stale brine.

“Rest easy, Purple Illusion. I can at least hold her illness where it is... huh?” Her words flowed like soft silk, then snagged.

As Yue Liuyi reached to push the wheelchair, the floor shuddered, a beast stirring beneath stone.

A violent blast followed; outside, night tore open like a white scar, light flashing fierce as lightning.

Boom‑boom!

“Little Moon, don’t leave me!” Dixue’s shout flew like a tether in the wind.

Dixue darted to Yue Liuyi’s side and cast a warding spell, a silver shell blooming like moonlight.

“What’s happening? So you did betray us!” Luyao’s fists clenched like stones, and he lunged at Purple Illusion and Li Jue, eyes burning like coals.

“Professor Li! What is going on?” Purple Illusion’s shock rang like a struck bell.

She had dug through records and whispers, and she’d only reached out after confirming Professor Li had no loyalty to the Star‑Gel industry and loved money more than flags, her plan stacked like careful cards.

But the way the pieces fell now ran beyond her map, the deck scattering like leaves in a sudden gust.

Outside, small warships streaked across the sky like swallows, and alarms roared until the whole research center glowed red, a furnace in the dark.

“I—I don’t know!!” Li Jue’s fear showed like a rabbit caught in a spotlight.

Eyes wide as saucers, Li Jue flapped his hands in panic. “How could I ever snitch? Linoket, that miser, that iron‑feathered rooster—I’d never pledge to him!”

He protested, but the alarms swelled like tidewater. Red light bled through every hall, and even the nutrient tanks flashed warning sigils, skulls blinking like cold stars.

“Damn you, still mouthing off in this mess—rot into carrion!” Luyao’s voice cut like a knife dripping venom.

“Wait, Luyao! He’s not lying... and these alarms aren’t aimed at us!” Dixue’s calm dropped like snow onto embers.

Even in chaos, Dixue cooled fast, a sheet of winter glass settling over the scene.

Through the wire‑mesh window, the silver‑haired girl peered at the heavy mech guarding the gate, a steel beast crouched like a wolf.

The iron monster didn’t roll toward the courtyard. It pulled the trigger and spat fire down the street, its muzzle a thunderous torch.

Rat‑tat‑tat!

The mech was fighting something unseen, cannon song clashing like storms. Security rushed to trenches, dropping into earth like frightened hares, with no hint of running in to arrest anyone.

“Is this the Council’s reinforcements?” The question hung like mist over a ravine.

“Probably not. I told the squad leader in my letter—the Council won’t act at a time like this,” came the answer, steady as a drumbeat.

They didn’t know what was happening. But since the enemy’s eyes weren’t on them, the girls’ hearts loosened a notch, like knots easing in wet rope.

Still, the sudden raid smashed their plan like clay pots on stone.

Their infiltration might still be intact. But they couldn’t roll a patient through a live war line, like pushing a cradle through wildfire.

“Liuyi, sis, what’s our move?” The question flicked like a sparrow’s wing.

“Initiate Plan B,” she said, like flipping a hidden blade from a sleeve.

“Copy!” The reply snapped like a taut bowstring.

Luyao rolled his shoulders, eager as a hound straining at the leash.

“Purple Illusion understands!” Her voice chimed like a bell.

Purple Illusion nodded. She pulled a small box from her belt, then drew out something like a raincoat, slick and grey as stormcloud fabric.

With swift hands, the purple‑haired girl dressed her sister, movements quick as swallows. She pulled out a soft cord like a vine and gently secured her sister to the wheelchair, a careful knot around a fragile stem.

Plan B was the fallback for a failed infiltration, a shadow road under the roots: use force if needed and withdraw through the underground tunnel.

“W‑wait! You’re leaving?” Li Jue’s panic tore like thin paper in wind.

“Yeah. You’ve been paid. The remainder will hit your account in three days, as agreed,” the answer fell like the last coin in a clay jar.

“Please—take me with you! Don’t leave me alone here!” He begged like a stray dog in the rain.

The professor half‑knelt, pleading, his knees pressing the cold tile like stones in a riverbed.

“What are you doing? That wasn’t in our deal,” came the reply, hard as a locked door.

“You can’t just watch me die...” His hands reached like someone clutching reeds in a flood.

Another blast cut him off, a hammer striking a drum in the dark.

Boom!

This one landed close—an artillery shell smashed into the skybridge, and a hot wave slapped their faces like a furnace door, glass exploding into glittering rain.

“No time, LittleSnow. We need to retreat, fast,” Yue Liuyi said, urgency rising like a tide.

“Mm, got it... You,” Dixue snapped at Li Jue, her words like clipped wings, “stay behind us and don’t mess up.”

Dixue’s brow knit like stormclouds, but she still tossed the grasping doctor a thin rope of mercy, a path to live like a lantern under rain.

...

...

Burning black smoke spread through the air like ink in water.

The scorched scent, braided with gunpowder, lit people’s nerves like kindling catching fire.

Patients ran and on‑duty staff sprinted, bodies scattering like ants from a stomp. The hospital snarled into chaos, and even guards started looking for exits, fear pooling like oil.

The girls took the chance, riding the confusion like fish slipping downstream, and pushed to the bottom level of the research center.

It was the hospital’s warehouse, stacked supplies rising in the dark like silent cliffs. Only one guard sat tense in the security room, a lone candle in a draft.

“What are you planning to do?” His voice snapped like a frayed wire.

“Sorry about this!” The apology flicked like a knife sheathed in snow.

Dixue’s magic slid through the glass like water through reeds and knocked the guard out, his consciousness snuffed like a flame.

Of course the alarms went off, sirens spinning like red wheels. But alarms wailed everywhere; this one was a single sparrow crying in a storm.

“Stay tight on me. There might be defense systems ahead. It’s dangerous,” Yue Liuyi warned, the words laying a path like chalk on stone.

There was an emergency route under the hospital, a tunnel to the outside that stayed sealed in quiet days, its length studded with gun‑turret defenses like iron thorns.

“Leave the defense to me!” Luyao puffed up, chest wide as a proud rooster.

“Wait. Let Purple Illusion take defense,” Dixue countered, her gaze steady as frost. “She’s been preparing for this day for a long time.”

“Huh?” The sound dropped like a pebble into a pond.

“Absolute Seal Umbrella!” The name rang like a petal snapping open.

From the small box, Purple Illusion pulled out a folding umbrella, a night flower unfurling in her hands.