Alicia watched the girl walk toward the loli; a tide of recognition rolled in, like moonlight catching old ripples—she’d seen this statuesque woman before.

Hmm… where had she seen her? Memory floated like fog over a river, just out of reach.

Alicia locked onto the newcomer’s face; slowly it aligned with the earlier statue, like a reflection and the moon becoming one.

Right—the statue. So this was Aer? Beauty like polished jade, even brighter than the image she’d held.

For two heartbeats, Alicia basked in her own memory, puffing up like a sparrow in the sun.

“Ling…”

Aer’s voice brushed the sleeping Ling, a whisper like a breeze through bamboo; Ling didn’t stir, her face serene as a carved figurine.

Aer stroked her soft cheek like smoothing silk, then reached toward Ling’s chest, movement gentle as falling snow.

Not like a certain Alicia Moser, that pervert who’d sneak at sleeping lolis; Aer just wanted the book resting on Ling’s chest.

She caught a corner, lifted like a leaf on a draft; Ling’s crossed arms didn’t stop it— the book slipped free into Aer’s hand.

Sensing something precious gone, Ling’s fine-boned face tightened, a crease like a cloud edge; it didn’t last—Aer clasped her small hand.

Ling’s brows eased like waves settling; her fingers gripped Aer’s hand the way they’d held the book, clinging like vines to a warm branch.

Aer stayed, gently caught, and didn’t mind; her gaze fell soft as moonlight over quiet snow.

Time drifted like mist through pines; to Alicia, the scene was a painting, and when she blinked, Ling was awake.

Ling’s lashes trembled, butterfly wings in dawn; a faint “mm” slipped from her small lips; Aer’s face held no surprise, calm as still water.

Ling opened her eyes; sunlight speared into deep-blue pools, pain pricking pupils used to night, like a blade in a lake.

She reached to rub them, habit moving like a ripple; then she felt it—her hand was holding warmth instead of empty air.

She rode out the sting, stirred a thread of wind mana; the breeze lifted her from lying to sitting, as natural as spring lifting grass.

She didn’t know why; it felt innate, a birthmark in the soul, as easy and familiar as raising a hand.

She sat straight, and the silver-haired older-sister figure knelt beside her, silver like moon-thread; her pain melted like frost in dawn.

The face felt familiar, a chord struck in a quiet hall; Ling wanted to carve every detail into her mind like a seal on jade.

But questions tangled like vines in shade; she believed this girl held answers like a lantern under the eaves.

“Who… are you?”

Aer met her eyes, twin lakes reflecting sky; the silent gaze lay warm as sunlight on water, and Ling wanted it to linger.

“So you don’t remember… it’s okay,” she murmured, voice soft as rain. “I’m Aer~”

“A…er?” — The name rang like a bell she’d heard before.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for a little cutie,” Aer said, amused, voice like a cat’s purr in the sun.

“Who’s the cutie?”

“You~”

“Me? Who am I?”

“Ling~ Your name is Yufan Ling~”

“Ling…?” She looked at her small hand, lines like petals; a smile bloomed, warm as spring—so she was Ling. What a lovely name.

“Ling~ don’t drift off—did you wake up a bit foggy?”

Ling shook her head, like a cherry blossom shedding dew; she’d just dipped into a pool of happiness for a moment.

“I’m still curious—why am I here?”

Aer tapped her cheek, then kneaded gently, puffing her soft face like fresh mochi; Ling accepted the ‘punishment’ with the calm of a kitten.

“Looks like you slept yourself silly—woke not knowing where you were,” Aer teased, tone playful as breeze-bell chimes.

“But I…”

“No more buts, little dummy!”

Aer rose slowly, motion long as a lengthening shadow; Ling thought she was leaving, and the thought tugged like a thread in her chest.

Not knowing why, she felt reluctant, like a child fearing a parent’s back; she grabbed Aer’s skirt hem with her small hand, eyes welling like dew.

Aer laughed softly at the little chick clinging to her; she ruffled Ling’s golden hair, drawing laughter like silver bells from Ling’s throat.

“Alright~ don’t worry. I won’t leave you,” Aer said, voice a warm hearth in winter.

Ling looked up, eyes wide, misted at the corners like morning grass; whether sunlight or feelings, they shone sweetly.

“Really?”

“Really! Truer than those pearl eyes of yours!”

“Is that so? I’ll trust you this once!”

She let go of the skirt, crossed her arms like a proud sparrow, chin high, as if her trust were a medal she’d bestowed.

Aer had seen this brand of silliness often; her expression stayed a smooth pond under still sky.

“Alright, no more messing around.” She held out a hand to Ling, palm open like a path through bamboo. “Want to go somewhere fun?”

Chirp-chirp—birds burst from the trees behind them, arrows into the sky; plop—fish leapt and fell, silver knives flashing; roar—beasts answered from shade.

The quiet space turned lively, life spilling like a spring released; as if everything had hidden and now rushed out, the world breathed again.

A strand of sunlight pierced cloud and landed on Ling; she smiled, holy as a temple bell in morning; her art-piece hand lifted and intertwined.

Aer watched their fingers weave like braided silk; a small smile unfurled, petal-soft at the corner of her mouth.

“Looks like there’s only one answer~”