“I’m going to marry the Marl Kingdom’s eldest princess,” Nana Toki said, her voice dropping like a clean blade on stone.

“What?!”

The Hedon King, seated on his throne like a boulder on a cliff, almost slid right off at her words.

“You mean you’ll marry Marl’s dragon princess?” He gripped the armrests as if they were lifelines, voice trembling like a shaken bell.

“Yeah. A marriage alliance.” Nana nodded, easy as a leaf on water. “While she’s in our hands, we tie the knot. Once the rice is cooked, even Marl won’t dare start a war.”

Nana had heard their king spoiled his daughters like a spring that never runs dry.

If she married Ling’er Long, the hidden quest would click into place like a lock.

“But… but you’re both women!” The Hedon King wiped the fine sweat on his brow like dew brushed from grass. “Bingtang, you’re joking with an old man, right? There’s no such thing as same‑sex love.”

“Isn’t it standing right in front of you?” Nana’s face turned solemn, still as a winter lake.

The Hedon King fell silent, words sinking like stones.

“Whether you agree or not doesn’t matter,” she said, smile bright as morning when she slung an arm around Ling’er Long’s shoulders. “I’m giving notice so your hearts don’t crack like ice.”

“Your opinions are for reference,” she added, tapping the table like a drumbeat. “The real decider is here.”

“Eh?! You… want to marry me?” Ling’er Long had to chew that absurdity like tough jerky before shock finally burst out. “You’re not joking?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Nana let go of her shoulder, voice light as smoke. “What, marrying me makes you feel wronged?”

Ling’er Long bit back her words, heart fluttering like a trapped bird. That’s called being startled!

“But Bingtang, Marl’s dragon princess is a woman, same as you!” The Hedon King still clung to the old raft like a man in flood.

Since ancient times there’d been no such pairing, and his little princess wouldn’t dare break the sky.

“And even if I agree to you two, will Marl agree?” His doubt hung like fog over a river.

“Don’t trouble yourself.” Nana’s eyes flashed like flint. “In a few days, I’ll visit Marl. Their king will place his daughter in my hands.”

She had expected the Hedon King to use Marl as a shield, so her words cut like shears. “You two kings just need to come to the wedding. Good time for you two idiots to shake hands and bury the hatchet.”

The Hedon King swallowed his retort, tongue dry as dust.

Ling’er Long stared, the words what about my opinion flickering like a moth.

“Naturally, that’s reserved,” Nana said, tone light as falling snow.

…

After laying out her plans in the palace like pieces on a board, Nana gave the Hedon King a few cautions that snapped like twigs, then hurried off.

She took Ling’er Long, mounted the ice dragon, and shot toward Mida Village like an arrow.

Truth be told, after last night’s high‑intensity bout, Nana’s muscles burned like banked coals, and weariness surged like a tide.

If not for sheer will holding back the augmentation draught’s backlash, she’d have blacked out like a blown candle.

She held on until the ice dragon slid into the magic array that sheltered Mida Village like a glass dome.

Standing on its back, hands steady as bridle reins, Nana finally let her guard unclench like a fist and let the flood of sleep take her.

“I’ll leave… the rest to you…” Her voice drifted like falling ash.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?!” Ling’er Long’s hands flashed like vines, catching Nana as her body tilted back.

Before she could untangle the moment, the ice dragon beneath them loosed a dragon’s roar that split the air like thunder.

A killing aura blasted out from the dragon like a winter gale, making beasts on the ground fold like grass in wind and whimper for mercy.

“Careful!” The shout was a bell in a storm.

Even as the roar hammered Ling’er Long’s skull like a mallet, the ice dragon under Nana shattered with a thunderous crack, bursting into a billion blood‑red ice motes that speared upward.

Falling through open air, Ling’er Long clutched the unconscious woman tighter, arms closing like a shield.

In the next heartbeat, several green vines shot up from the farmland before Nana’s house like serpents, coiling around the two falling figures and cinching tight.

In moments, a clear blue sky turned strange, and tiny red ice crystals began to fall like crimson hail.

“Dad, look.” The people of Mida Village, waking as if from a long fog, stepped out of their rooms and stared at the sky like children at fireworks.

At the same time, the vines lowered Ling’er Long and the sleeping Nana, slow as lanterns sinking on water.

These vines—were they the odd plants that woman had been fussing over like a gardener in spring?

The vines slipped from her slim waist and shrank back, curling around the wooden stakes in the field like sleeping snakes.

Ling’er Long looked up at the magic array hanging over Mida Village like a veil, then down at the sleeping face in her arms.

Bingtang, what kind of woman are you, really… Her thoughts drifted like smoke.

…

When Nana woke, two days had already burned by like candles. Sunlight sprawled over the floor in golden squares.

A warm breath tickled her neck like a feather, so light and easy it seemed to slow time’s river.

“Mm—?” Warmth, rare as spring after snow, made her drowsy, unlike the usual chill of waking on the floor.

The soft mattress and a hint of girl’s fragrance wrapped her, and the frozen cogs in her mind began to turn like mill wheels.

Mida Village… Ling’er Long… Nesting Phoenix…

Faces flashed past like lantern slides, familiar yet not the same. Nana cracked her eyes and looked around.

It was her house, yes, but today she lay on a bed where the floor had been her stone.

And there was a familiar sleeping face right in front of her, bright as moon on water.

Ling’er Long… that had to be her.

White collar filled her gaze like a snowfield. Nana squinted her swollen eyes until the double image stitched into one.

Whoo— She exhaled, a deep breath like steam, and for a blink she thought the person beside her was a certain Miss Si.

“You’re awake?” A pleasant voice brushed her ear like wind in bamboo, and Nana felt a brief, dreamy sway.

It felt like she was still walking inside a dream.

“Mm…” She nodded, light as a nodding blossom, and as memories seeped back like thaw, her mind cleared.

“These days… thanks.” Sitting on Ling’er Long’s bed, Nana touched her neck out of habit; the wound there had vanished like frost at dawn.

“I went to the next town and bought you some scar ointment,” Ling’er Long said, drawing a wooden comb through her loose hair like rain through reeds. “As a princess, you need basic poise.”

“And… you’ll meet my royal father soon,” she added, cheeks calm as a quiet pond. “At least dress up a bit.”

“…” The pause hung like a held breath.

“What is it?” Ling’er Long stopped, eyes lifting like rising stars.

“Mm— nothing.” Nana shook her head, the knot in her face loosening like a cloud parting, and a rare smile edged in.

“You’re up, so get dressed,” Ling’er Long said, rising like a willow. “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Okay.” The word landed soft as a seed.

In Nana’s mind, the System watched, for the first time seeing that kind of smile bloom like a shy flower.

In its memory, she always wore a mask like black iron, cold and wicked.

Nothing seemed to stir her heart’s pond.

Only when she was with Nesting Phoenix would she relax, laying down the face she hid behind like a discarded helm.

What had her first half of life looked like, for a woman like this? The System’s curiosity flickered like a moth, but answers hid like fish.

“Host, your body has started showing issues.” While Ling’er Long stepped out to the kitchen, sleeves fluttering like swallows, the System spoke after a scan.

“?” The System’s words tugged a small frown from Nana, a ripple across still water.

This body in this world—did it have some hidden sickness?

“Ah… no,” the System said, data scrolling like falling beads. “The problem’s with you, the host.”

“Human memory is limited,” it explained, voice level as a metronome. “When it hits a ceiling, the subconscious tosses old, useless bits like autumn leaves.”

“Because you’ve crossed too many worlds, your core memory has overflowed its banks, so partial confusion shows up, like you just felt.”

“Does that have any impact?” Nana asked, voice cool as shade.

“The impact’s… fairly serious,” the System said, a beat of silence like a skipped step. “Various triggers could overload your brain and cause amnesia.”

“Worse, you might turn into an actual idiot.” The verdict dropped like a stone in a well.

Nana froze, a long beat like winter. That’s beyond serious.

“But my creator considered this,” the System went on, pride chiming like a small bell. “They upgraded me. I can help you forget memories from past worlds, keeping your brain’s storage clear.”

It paused, then asked, soft as midnight. “Well? Do you want me to purge them?”

“Hah…” Nana straightened her clothes and pushed the door open, the hinge sighing like wind, walking toward the kitchen.

The System’s words echoed in her head like footsteps in a corridor.

For a long moment, she said nothing, thoughts moving like clouds.

“…No. Don’t wipe them.” Her decision fell like a stake. “I’m not handing you the keys to my mind. What if you peek at my past?”

The System went quiet, embarrassed as a child caught stealing fruit. “I wouldn’t!”

“I swear on all my honor,” it said, oath bright as a banner. “I’ll never do that!”

It did burn with curiosity about Nana’s past, but its creator had warned it: don’t probe her too deep.

It would not defy orders; that line was steel.

“Honor?” Nana’s eyes slanted, a knife of a look. “What honor?”

“The ‘Most Useless System in the Universe’ award?” Her mockery landed like a slap.

“I’m not trusting you, any more than your idiot creator,” she added, voice dry as tinder. “We’ll talk when a real problem hits.”

There was no rush; she let the thought go like a leaf on stream.

Clearly, she didn’t pin the System’s warning to her heart.