Alicia-jie, listen—I'm not slacking on purpose, please trust me! When has your little sister Lian ever lied to you?

Lian was tied to a wooden stake, like a goat in a winter field, and Alicia’s questioning fell on her like cold rain.

Is that so? Then let the victims present their evidence. Alicia watched Lian with an impartial, frost-bitten stare.

Remi and Flan rose from their seats, drifting forward like two theater curtains drawn in silence.

Plop. Remi sank to the floor, leaning back like a wilted willow; one hand braced on the ground, the other dabbing nonexistent tears with a lace kerchief.

Alicia… sniff… it’s not really Miss Lian’s fault. This is all because Remi’s useless, so Miss Lian had to abandon me—like a leaf in the wind.

Even though I brought back plenty of food—like baskets brimming with autumn fruit—please don’t blame Miss Lian for returning empty-handed.

She wasn’t trying to be lazy, not at all; no, never; I believe in Miss Lian with a heart steady as a stone.

Please show mercy; just sentence her to, oh, I don’t know, life without a wife, and we’ll call it even.

Flan copied her sister and sat down, one arm around Remi’s back like a shawl, the other wiping away those imaginary tears; she started sobbing too, like a kitten in drizzle.

Flan also begs Alicia-jie not to punish Lian-jie.

She’s useless, lazy, and meddlesome—like a sparrow always pecking at every crumb—but… but… but…

I can’t think of any of Lian-jie’s strengths right now, like a blank page in winter.

But Flan will try her whole life—like a pilgrim walking the long road—to find one! So please be endlessly merciful to Lian-jie! Whimper, whimper~

Black lines crawled across Lian’s forehead, like storm-threaded clouds, while Remi and Flan unleashed their over-the-top acting to trash her.

Her heart felt heavy, like a stone in a river. Is this… friendship? Such a pretty porcelain thing—I’d love to smash it all at once and watch it glitter like shards of ice.

Enough, Lian. Speak. Got any more excuses? Alicia’s voice rang in Lian’s skull like iron bells in fog.

Emmm… if I say it’s all fake, would you believe me? Lian sent Alicia two starry-eyed looks, like fireflies in dusk, hoping to bribe with cuteness.

As judge, how could Alicia be swayed by such soft summer wind? She snapped a photo with a hawk’s speed, then lifted her cool, pitiless face as if carved from jade.

I. Have. No. Feelings.

Bribing the presiding judge—what kind of decorum is that?! Whipping, ready!

Of course, no real whip came out; Alicia used her hand like a thunder-lash and delivered a dozen smacks to Lian’s backside, swift as hailstones.

Whimper, whimper~ that hurts. Lian rubbed her rear like warming a frost-nipped peach, tears spilling like a sudden spring; the sound was so mournful it tugged at any listener, a whimper-fiend’s little spell.

Alicia saw through it at a glance, cutting her a sideways look like a blade of ice, while Lian peeked at her through sobs like a fox sneaking glances.

Enough crying. With your physique, we’d need an armor-piercing round fit for an elder dragon to make you feel pain. Her words landed like stones in a still pond.

Hey! How do you say something that terrifying without blinking? Even I might get hurt, you know! Do none of you have sympathy? Are you all demons in human skin?

If you hadn’t come back so late, would we be this angry? Tell me—when did you leave? Alicia’s tone pressed like a firm hand on a shoulder.

Around… noon… maybe… Lian’s voice fluttered like a hesitant finch.

And what time is it now? Alicia’s question fell like a sundial’s shadow.

It’s just… about six in the afternoon, right? Why so mad—look, I’ll be cute; don’t be mad, meow~ Her smile curled like cat’s whiskers in sunlight.

The cuteness assault failed like a wave against rock. Alicia pressed her two fists to Lian’s temples, then twisted her wrists; a lightning jolt shot through Lian’s mind like a summer storm.

Pain rippled down her body like frost racing across glass, and she melted into Alicia’s arms, a puppet with strings cut.

Will you do this again? The question was quiet, like a moon over water.

Lian’s first feeling was dread, dark as a cave, so she confessed at once; that ascension-like shock was not something she wanted a second time—though, shamefully, it had a tiny spark of thrill, like biting into pepper.

I won’t!

Good attitude. Then I won’t ask where you went. Don’t do dangerous things next time. Alicia’s words were soft, like a hand smoothing rumpled silk.

Eh? Lian blinked like an owl at dawn. Not chasing it?

What’s with that look like you want me to pry? Alicia’s gaze held her like a net.

Lian waved her hands fast, like leaves in wind—no way could she explain this cleanly.

Seeing Lian’s tight worry, Alicia laughed and ruffled her hair, fingers light as drifting snow.

All right, dinner. You probably skipped lunch; go eat a little. We won’t head out tonight. We’ll rest here, treat it like camping under quiet stars.

Mm, got it. Lian’s voice eased like embers settling.

Lian, you done eating? Go take a bath later. Alicia’s tone was casual, like warm tea.

Lian stared at Alicia, empty sky in her eyes—this wild ridge had no river, where’s the water for bathing?

Alicia caught the question in Lian’s gaze like a fish in a net, then pointed at the thicket behind her, a secret door in leaves.

Curious, Lian parted the hush of branches like parting bead curtains and stepped through a little gate into a secret world.

Right in the center, Flan was heating a huge pot of water with fire magic; steam rose like white cranes.

Noticing Lian, Flan smiled and rode a breeze over like a petal on the wind—yet there was something sly in that smile, like moonlight behind a mask.

Lian-jie, you’re here. Hurry and bathe; I already set the temperature to perfect spring. Her voice chimed like porcelain.

Before Lian could react, Flan had already stripped her clothes, quick as a sparrow stealing crumbs; Lian went red like a boiled crab.

Hey! What are you doing—how did even you turn into a pervert?! Lian’s protest flapped like a banner.

What is Lian-jie saying~ don’t you have to undress to bathe? Flan’s tone was innocent, like rain on bamboo.

But I never said I’d bathe! The words slipped out like a fish—and regret followed like a hook tugging line.

Flan’s fingers tightened on Lian’s hand, stiff as frost; a bad premonition rose in Lian’s chest like a dark tide.

Lian… jie, do you… hate… sob… Flan now? Did… sob… Flan do something wrong? Flan’s starry eyes went red in a breath, tears flowing like a broken dam.

Only villains make lolis cry, unless she’s a loli too—Lu Xun. The line darted through Lian’s mind like a mischievous sparrow.

Lian, loli-bodied yet uncle-hearted, felt guilt climb her spine like heavy moss; her whole body sank as if under a weight, breath stuck like fog at the throat, and blood stalled like a frozen stream.

I… I get it! Don’t cry, okay? I’ll wash. I’m washing. Bathing is my favorite thing. Lian surrendered like a flag lowered at dusk.

Hearing her agree, Flan’s tears vanished like dew at sunrise; she switched to that exact hotel-clerk smile, neat as lined paper, and pointed to the heated pot, steam curling like dragon whiskers.

Then, please step in.

Okay, okay, okay… Lian muttered, words shuffling like pebbles. She knew she’d been tricked, but there was nothing else to say; she cut off her thoughts like pruning a branch and stepped into the hot water, warmth blooming like plum blossoms.

Of course she still had questions budding like weeds—like how the pot felt oddly familiar. It looked… suspiciously like an iron stew pot, the kind used for braising meat, with steam rising like soup in winter.