Fine, I’ll go wash. Fulin bit down on the thought like a peach pit, hard and bitter. She’d acted all the way to this scene; she couldn’t freeze at the bathroom door if she wanted a quiet, ordinary life.

She had to keep moving, even if that meant stepping into steam and tile.

But when her fingers wrapped the cold metal handle, her body betrayed her. Strength sifted away like sand through a sieve. Her hand wouldn’t press down. The door wouldn’t budge. Her mind shouted forward; her heels slid back. Damn it—why?

Reina’s hand settled on Fulin’s perfumed shoulder, warm as a silk sash. She leaned close to whisper in her ear, breath a feather: “Oh my~ So bold sneaking onto the wagon, little sister, but this shy?”

Fulin’s nerves were a taut bowstring; she never sensed Reina approach. The touch shocked her. A girl’s body hears touch like bells—shoulder, ear, all live wire.

Level 320 strength is wild without will. Her shoulder yielded at Reina’s tap. A breeze brushed her ear; her hand trembled. She yelped. The towel that wrapped her like armor slid off, limp as snow melting.

“D-don’t look~!” The words leapt out of her like startled birds. Another self surfaced inside—strange as a mirror in fog. That self wasn’t the cool, rational one. She was shy—so shy even a sister’s gaze burned her cheeks rosy.

“Alright, alright, I’m not looking. I won’t tease you~” Reina soothed, voice soft as warm milk. She crouched to pick up the fallen towel and draped it over Fulin, tender as a blanket in winter.

“Mm~” Fulin let out a small, helpless sound, sweet and thin.

Then clarity hit like cold water. A prickle of fastidiousness crawled over her skin, as if someone else’s touch had left smudges. Her eyes turned doleful, like a kitten scolded unjustly. She couldn’t fight; she yielded under Reina’s gentle “bullying,” chalk-white and meek.

Seeing this, Reina—usually strict, always composed—couldn’t help a knowing smile. “Haya~ You’re too cute, little sister.”

“But if we keep dawdling, the hot water will cool~” Under her half-push, half-pull, Fulin let herself be led. They stepped into steam that curled like mist over a pond.

She had seized up because it was her first time—facing her own body, and in front of someone else. A few minutes later, under the warm kiss of spring-like water, Fulin could face Reina’s features across the tub.

Heat glazed Reina’s cheeks like dew on peaches, rosy and bright. Fulin’s thoughts flicked sharp. If I bite there—could I drink blood?

She didn’t dare look below the face. From earlier till now she’d fought her hunting instinct with iron straps. The neck was a bell that called wolves. If her gaze stopped at that graceful throat, the instinct would storm her mind. She’d pounce without thinking, and this bath might keep a husk.

Have I already left humanity? The thought stung like frost. Even toward Reina, so gentle, desire coiled snake-like. Fulin sank for a breath.

The gloom washed lighter. Reina was studying her too, eyes lit with soft envy. “You’re beautiful, little sister. Like a porcelain doll from a toy atelier, walking in spring. Not a scar anywhere. Your father must have cherished you?”

Why bring up family now? Fulin felt a flare of annoyance, quick as a spark. Out loud, she skimmed the surface. “Mm. Mm, yeah…”

Reina caught the mood, shifted like wind changing. Her tone turned serious as temple bells. “Fulin, why do you hate Lance?”

“Uh~ let me think.” Fulin sifted the question like rice through fingers. Lance’s reputation was bad, but to her he was a crucial skin. True hate wasn’t possible. Still, that skin had caused her trouble. She tried a reason a little girl might say. “People always said ‘bad brother’ loafed around. After he got stronger, he bullied the market every day. Even Uncle George didn’t dare speak. Uncle George feared him, so he sent me to ‘bad brother.’ He’s so mean!”

Fulin’s words fluttered like sparrows. Reina’s smile went lonely, thin as moonlight. “Yeah… Lance went too far. Seven years later he even forgot me…”

“Did bad brother do bad things to sister?” Fulin leaned into the role, voice clear and innocent.

“No,” Reina shook her head. Her smile slipped off like leaves in autumn. On that beautiful, solemn face, only solitude and regret remained. “I wronged him first. That’s why he grew so harsh. Lance being a bad brother? That’s sister’s fault.”

“Why?” Fulin blinked, wide-eyed as a doe.

“It’s hard to say.” Reina drew a line with a sigh, then pinched Fulin’s small nose. “Maybe sister’s the bad one. Fulin, don’t become a bad sister later, okay~?”

Fulin pouted, soft and indignant, like plum blossom shaken by wind. “I won’t be a bad sister~~”

Her tongue said no, but her mind swirled with plans—schemes laid like stones on a path toward ordinary life. Dark dye seeped into her chaotic sea of thoughts. Maybe I’m already that bad ‘little sister’ cozying up to a boy.

Deep night fell. After a playful pillow bout, Reina snuffed the candle; darkness pooled like ink. She hugged Fulin as a small body pillow and drifted into dreams.

Fulin lay beside youth’s vibrant blood, bright as spring sap. Hunting urge and calm took turns, waves cresting and falling. Reina slept poorly, rolling like a restless tide. She pressed Fulin under her more than once.

Fulin stewed for hours, frustration tight as knotted rope. Past midnight, she pinched Reina’s cheek—a dream-eater’s face, munching invisible sweets. No reaction, even after a few pinch-tests. The knight girl was truly dead asleep.

Despite Reina’s slim figure, her arms had work-soft strength, packed like little buns. Fulin spent a long, careful effort to slip free without stirring the air.

So this is a genius of Qi Refining. She eyed the knight’s unruly sleep, a note of awe drifting over her heart like mist.

She checked the room—still as a pond before dawn. Then she called on her Arcane Mage’s information magic. A magitech scan rippled out, silent as a green net. No spells pinged back. Only when everything felt airtight did Fulin cast “Mind Confession.”

The spell flew quick as a hummingbird. A bright green glow rose from Reina’s chest, sailed to hover before Fulin, and turned into five cards, jade-green and crisp.

Each card held a different weakness. Fulin had three draws—three bites of random truth.

Her luck was famously bad, so on the first draw she triggered an Arcane Mage talent: “Fate’s Choice.” The next random effect would lock to a desired outcome. She craved the knight’s shortcoming. The draw basked in that fate-buff.

The first draw was guaranteed. SSR gleamed like jade under sunlight. It showed Reina’s knight flaws: low agility, poor at Battle Aura arts, and all her combat techniques centered on self-empowerment.

So that’s it. Under “Fate’s Choice,” “Mind Confession” hit the heart. The first line told the whole weakness.

Yet yesterday she flashed startling speed before Lance. That meant Reina likely fired a burst skill like “Heart of Steel.” Strategy formed like ink strokes: avoid the edge.

If “Rose” tends to trigger her technique at certain beats, pull back during that window. Then counter once the tide ebbs. Lance won’t drop in the first exchange. He can drag the fight to the time the plan matures. Victory will wait there like a lantern.

Fulin felt pleased, warm as tea.

Two chances remained. No reason not to flip. She tried the second.

Another card turned. Her cursed luck raised its hand. R glinted dull: Reina came to Golden Bay City to investigate a rumored vampire.

“Mind Confession” can spit out blackmail material like thorns. If the target’s a cheater or a corrupt official, it hands proof to squeeze them or report them to Legend of Dawn’s law NPCs.

But “investigating a vampire” isn’t much of a lever. Fulin doubted it, the thought flat as stale bread.

Vampire rumors bloom everywhere, like mushrooms after rain. Golden Bay City having one means little. Layne told Lance before he set out. Unless Reina hides deeper waters, this ‘vampire’ tidbit is common air. An R that earned its R.

Last chance. Fulin’s pulse thumped like a drum. Her fingers hovered, dithering a few breaths. Then she pushed fate.

The final card came up SR. Relief eased her shoulders, cool as shade. She read: Reina believes she hurt Lance seven years ago, leading him astray. She bears deep guilt and seeks to atone.

What kind of twist is that? Fulin’s brow knit like folded paper. Lance’s memories from seven years back were torn, ragged as old cloth. The body’s original owner had a bad memory. No way to recall cleanly.

Still, “guilt” stood like a stone on the road. She got its shape, not its story. SR is SR—one S short of SSR. Value and completeness are worlds apart, like two shores. Regret pricked her. At least the weakness probe was done. That thought eased her chest.

She was ready to leave—but memory stung like nettles. Reina coaxed her like a child. Reina saw her bare body. Skin got touched in places Fulin herself hadn’t touched. Nothing truly happened, yet the sense of stain crept like ink. Her body felt unclean, and a tremor rose.

She didn’t want to go. She wanted to linger by Reina’s side, make the knight take responsibility in earnest. Or play a wicked prank—push Reina to bully her hard, until Reina couldn’t live without her.

The throbbing climbed, a tide under the moon. Fulin watched Reina’s sleeping face; her gaze slid to that swan neck. Her heart jolted like a trapped bird. The hunting urge surged.

No. She clamped down with will, iron over fire. Then her head turned aside, instinct like a reed in wind. Outside, the full moon hung, round and pale.

So tonight is full moon…

Reason drained from her eyes like ink in water. The golden threads at her crown paled to pure white. Clear irises darkened into chaotic crimson. Her body moved on a pull, drawn as if by tide.

Fulin climbed onto Reina, nestling into her arms like a kitten seeking warmth. Her lips drifted toward that throat, slow as petals falling. They parted faintly.

Inside the lovely mouth, two delicate little fangs gleamed.

At that moment Fulin hesitated, a moth circling a candle, thinking: If I let Reina figure out I’m Blood Clan, she could bully me forever. How would she bully me... Don’t tell me she’ll make me take her maternity leave for her—so wicked~

At that thought, fear and a strange anticipation braided together like night and dawn. Her small body trembled like a leaf. The urge to bite surged like a rising tide.

Her cherry-petal lips drifted closer to skin pale as carved jade. Just then, sleeping Reina’s breath turned shallow and quick, like a bird’s wingbeats. She hugged Fulin tight, and murmured to someone else, “Lance, I’m sorry...”

That soft call snapped Fulin awake, and left her hollow like a bell struck empty.

She didn’t know why the hollowness hurt, only that her feelings for Reina were fierce as summer storms, yet Reina whispered another’s name. In an instant, a gray tide surged in and drowned her heart.

Cold and dark as it was, that sea let her find herself again. She remembered her past life, a corporate drone chained to a 9-to-9, six-days-a-week grind. In this life, her wish was simple: a quiet shore.

And this knightly girl had her own star to chase. Maybe their roads would fork, and they’d pass like boats at night. Sorrow welled, boundless as mist—yet she didn’t regret. Her lips kept going, but she folded her fangs away, and brushed Reina’s cheek with the gentlest touch, leaving a kiss light as dew.

Maybe Reina sensed that kiss; on instinct she drew Fulin closer, like gathering a heater in winter. They nestled together the whole night. Wrapped in a warm hush of safety, Fulin finally slipped into sleep after more than two months awake.

At dawn, Fulin woke first. She rubbed her eyes, and felt she was biting something—soft in her mouth like a cloud. She suckled without thinking. Sweetness flooded her tongue like nectar, a bliss that sent ripples through body and mind. But the taste carried the sting of forbidden fruit. In a daze, she jolted with dread.

She’d, in her sleep, secretly drunk Reina’s blood.

Not good, not good! She let go at once. Sleep-blurred eyes finally focused; she had been latched onto Reina’s shoulder. The lingering feel in her mouth told her it had been a while. Who knew how much she’d taken?

She’d just finished probing Reina’s weakness—was she about to get caught for what she was, a Blood Clan girl?

It’s over, it’s over. Despair fell like ash. Damn this bloodthirst, flaring up before she was fully awake. And Reina was already flushed, breathing fast and shallow, lashes trembling, eyes about to open—she was waking up!