“Hey, Little Shengsheng, do you believe in past lives?” Dreamsound’s voice drifted like mist over warm tea.

I, Qingsheng Tangxue, rolled my eyes at her while biting bread, crumbs scattering like sugar snow. “I do, because you swallowed my last life.”

“I don’t mean that.” Her words fell away like rain behind a curtain. “I mean the life before that… and it doesn’t count as ‘swallowed’…” The tail end was a moth’s wing—too soft to hear.

“You don’t mean… my past life… was your mother?”

Dreamsound smiled with a storm-black face, then pinched my chubby cheeks like dough. “If Little Shengsheng keeps joking like that, even Mom will get mad, okay?”

“Yer gross— stahp— I’m askin’ why— why I’m called— yer daughter— isn’t that—” My voice was a muffled pebble stuck in bread.

“This is fate’s choice.” She held up a pendant, and pale light pooled inside like moonwater. “I could confirm you because of this charm.”

My heart hopped like a startled sparrow. That— that looks like my pendant. I gave it to my little sister, sealed a shard of my soul in it; if the soul doesn’t die, the glow won’t fade. To fool her, I slipped it out while she slept, fingers sneaking like thieves in fresh snow.

“Either way, you’re lying. I don’t buy it.”

“Even if I tell the truth, will you believe it?” She stroked my face, touch like a calm tide. “If I say you were one of my closest people, would you believe me?”

“I wouldn’t. Even though I’ve lost the memories of my past life—and most of my early years—I’m sure I have nothing to do with the Merfolk.” The thought of Frostwhisper rose like winter breath. She told me she’s lived a long time but slept through most of it, so my past life shouldn’t be tied to her—she’s only a bit over a hundred years herself.

“Mm-hmm. But that’s fine.” Dreamsound’s smile softened like dawn. “Feelings can be cultivated. Right now, I’m Little Shengsheng’s mom.”

“So stop pinching my face. Pinch again and I’ll bite.” My teeth flashed like a tiny fish’s snap.

“As expected… Little Shengsheng looks more Merfolk than I do.” Dreamsound’s fingers grazed the transparent scales on my cheeks, glimmering like glass petals.

It’s not just my face; my arms have a few too, clear as ice leaves. I asked her once, and she said these—like the tail—can be shed, like old frost slipping off stone.

“Why… do you say that?”

“Actually, Mom’s line became live-birthing.” Her words rolled calm, like a low wave.

“Uh.” My mind popped like a bubble. So I’m something you picked up?

“The Merfolk are a contradictory people,” she said, eyes like deep water. “Between human and fish, yet a nation of our own. Adults can switch forms freely. The earliest were oviparous. Later, contact spread across the continent, pure blood thinned; even the royal line grew pale. By my generation, we were born live. Compared to fish, we’re closer to human now.”

“Then why…”

“Because of that disaster.” Her tone lay flat as still water, yet anger and grief seeped out like bitter smoke. “If I hadn’t awakened, you wouldn’t be able to see me.”

“What was that disaster?”

“Want to know?” She smiled like a locked box. “When Shengsheng turns six.”

“Tch.” My mood crumpled like a damp leaflet. Fine, don’t say. Who even wants to know, stingy.

“Lately Little Shengsheng’s speech flows like a thawed stream.” Dreamsound’s eyes shone like clear rain. “Since that’s the case, let’s start the next stage.”

“Huh? Next stage? What kind of nonsense is that!”

“Royal etiquette,” she counted, fingers tapping like drops, “water magic, royal spearwork, and swordwork.”

“Why! Didn’t you say the royal family is just you? Why should I learn any of that!”

“Who said it’s just me?” She laughed, light flicking like fish scales. “It’s you too, Little Shengsheng. Even with only two people, we learn—family tradition is a river you don’t dam. And you really don’t want water magic? The Blue Domain Empire is its cradle; we can cast at any tier.”

“I don’t! I only want to learn fencing— uh, sword.”

“Nope.” Her refusal was a shutter slamming. “If you want sword, you learn the rest too.”

“Those things are boring and useless. I don’t want them.” The words were stones tossed at a pond.

“Life keeps forcing you to learn useless things, doesn’t it?” Dreamsound winked, a star flicking in night water. “So, resistance is futile.”

“Don’t…”

Life feels like getting steamrolled by a tide; if you can’t fight it, your heart pretends to float.

In the year that followed, I showed Mom what talent looks like, fireworks under rain. Three months, and I’d learned the Merfolk royal swordwork piled up over millennia. No legs? You’ve got hands—why fret? Merfolk swordplay doesn’t lean on legs; it tunes the whole body, a harp strung with muscle and breath.

As for the rest…

“Forget me… I really don’t want to learn…” My voice sank like a pebble in deep tea.

“Shengsheng,” Dreamsound sighed, wind over reeds, “why are you brilliant at sword, but hopeless at everything else?”

“How would I know?” My mood flared like a cat’s tail. “And it’s not me who’s the problem! Your royal etiquette is weird, nothing like what I’ve seen. What royal court teaches you how to act cute on command?”

“There is one.” She blinked, playful as a ripple. “The Blue Domain Imperial court. I suffered through it too. But you still learn what you must. If you used your morning sword time to study, you’d pick it up fast.”

“That’s impossible!” One is instinct, like breath. The other is you asking for pain, like hugging nettles.

“Ahh—” She stretched the sound like taffy, then smiled. “Keep trying, Little Shengsheng. I’ll prep bread for tonight.”

“No more bread… I’m about to puke.” The thought alone tasted like sawdust.

“I see… hmm.” Her gaze warmed, a lamp behind rice paper. “You’re growing now. Bread alone isn’t enough. We should prepare new food.”

Like you can cook. I’d rather eat bread than your cursed chef specials.

I wouldn’t dare say that to her face, unless I wanted an extra mountain of bread as punishment.

“Then Mom’s going out for a bit. Little Shengsheng, study nicely.” Her smile was a ribbon fluttering out the door.

“Where? If you’re heading to the far north, bring me back some sugar!” My eyes lit like lanterns.

“Just nearby.” She waved, breeze in a courtyard. “Not far. And the house is overflowing with sugar; finish it first, then we’ll buy more.”

“Fine, stingy…”

Did she leave…? Silence settled like soft snow. Wait a few minutes; no footsteps, no ripple. Gone. Oh yeah—finally, I don’t have to stare at that hateful etiquette book.

I flicked my hand, and the book skittered into a corner like a startled crab. I swam from the room to the kitchen, a silver streak through water. Cup in hand, I scooped in spoonfuls of granulated sugar, little dunes falling. Then I grabbed a pinch of the Snow Tea Dreamsound had hidden forever, leaves thin as frost feathers.

Hot water—where’s the kettle? Found it; steam rose like a ghost. The sugar melted, soft as rain.

Vapor-freeze technique.

Steam bloomed; frost kissed the rim like white blossoms. Perfect. Tea should be sweet; that’s the rule written in my bones. Dreamsound is so stingy, hoarding such fragrant Snow Tea and telling me “kids won’t grow if they drink it,” only letting me brew it once a month.

Obviously, she just can’t part with it. As if anything she hides can escape my eyes. Hmph, hmph— I’m a magpie with sugar wings.