“Dream… I’ve always wondered something. Why carve out a spirit‑water pocket in the open sea, then build a hot spring inside it? If you want a soak, aren’t the waves right there?” I said, hands resting on a float board like a gull on driftwood.

When we bathe, Qingyu Mengyin chooses her Merfolk form, says it’s softer than moonlight on ripples; I can’t feel the difference, like a pebble tossed into fog.

“Of course it’s different. This spring is natural, like a mountain heart under the waves, and it calms sleep and steadies the mind,” Dreamsound chimed, voice warm as steam. “I picked this site myself when I designed the manor, like picking a nest in a quiet cove. And soaking in a hot spring and soaking in brine are two different seasons… Why is Little Shengsheng floating so far from Mom? Do you hate Mom that much? Boo‑hoo, I’m so sad.”

“No, I’m just afraid I’ll faint here,” I muttered, head light as kelp in a current. She’s just too big, like a whale lounging in a teacup.

Dreamsound dipped half her head into the spring and blew bubbles like strings of pearls, then her eyes lit up, twin lanterns under water fixed on me.

You’re up to something, I thought, heart fluttering like a startled fish.

“Little Shengsheng, your arms are short now. You can’t reach your back, can you?”

I tried to reach behind me, fingers clawing through steam like blind minnows. Nothing.

“So… what about it…”

“I’m just curious. Mom used to scrub your back every time we bathed. Why so… shy today, like a shy crab under a rock?”

“Who—who’s shy! I just… don’t want… you…” Heat climbed my face like dawn on snow, and I ducked my head, blowing guilty bubbles that drifted away like tiny moons. How could I say that out loud?

“Giggle. Little Shengsheng gets shy so easily,” she teased, voice like tinkling shells.

“You’re the one… who’s shy,” I grumbled, words as thin as mist.

“Silly girl. It’s one thing to stuff your head with spicy thoughts all day like red chilies in a jar. But you also write them on your face,” Dreamsound said, pinching my left cheek as gently as a tide lifting sand. “Wash up quick. Soak too long and you’ll swoon like a willow in rain.”

“Got it… About what you said—help me scrub my back…”

Dreamsound blinked, then burst into laughter like a bell under water. “Alright, alright~ Mom will scrub you till you’re smooth and milky~”

Ugh, what is with this old granny! She’s got no shame at all, like a cat sunning on a rooftop.

…

Deep in the sea, night and day are two shades of the same ink. In Dreamsound’s house, magic‑charged chandeliers hang like pale jellyfish; if she wished, the rooms could gleam all day like noon on ice. But at night we douse them, because darkness cradles sleep like a velvet tide. Neither of us keeps a light on.

“Time really flies… Little Shengsheng will be six soon,” she murmured, voice calm as a quiet bay.

“Mm‑hm.” Finally, I can ditch this hateful fish tail, like shedding a soggy net. I’m so done. Every night Dream‑old‑lady hugs my upper body like an octopus, and she pins my tail with her leg like a rock on my belly.

It feels like something pressing your lower abdomen like a stubborn stone. You can’t sleep; being a body pillow is one thing, but even basic rest gets stolen like a candle in wind.

Once I’m free of this tail, I’m pressing back. At least let me be on top, like a star on the peak.

“After your sixth birthday, Mom won’t deliberately restrict where you go anymore,” she said, gentle as a lullaby tide. “But you must be careful. Don’t run everywhere, don’t go to dangerous places—especially the shore, where rocks bite like knives.”

“Mm‑hm.” Flat as a calm pond.

“I’m sorry. I hid a lot from you before,” she went on, her usual fussy warmth drawing back like a wave, leaving a serious quiet. “Ask me anything after this, and I’ll tell you.”

“Mm‑hm… Wait. Why tell me now? Before, no matter how I asked, your lips were sealed like a jar in clay.”

“Some things must be spoken at the right time and place, like sowing at proper rain. Only when Little Shengsheng turns six—three years in the egg included—will your bloodline fully wake. That includes the knowledge folded into it like script on silk.”

“Before you awakened, you were just a normal child, a leaf in storm, and outside was too dangerous for you, even the sea,” she said. “After awakening, it’s like the ocean recognizes you. The sea will draw near to you, the way ice once loved your hands. Your affinity for ice hasn’t vanished, but as a princess of the Merfolk, you won’t just be blessed by the sea. You’ll carry water’s favor too, likely stronger than Mom’s, like a river growing after snowmelt.”

“So you kept me in because you were afraid I’d get hurt?”

“Mm.” A small sound, clear as springwater.

She didn’t look like she was lying, eyes still as a deep pool, and there was no need to.

“I get it. Dream… I have a favor,” I said, throat tight as a knot.

“Mm? What is it?”

“This pendant.” I slipped it from my neck, chain glinting like a silver fish in moonlight. “If you ever meet my sister, Ling Xuewei—she might go by Kerlinveil Xuewei—please give this to her. And… please don’t hurt her. I’m begging you…”

Qingyu Mengyin stared at me for a long breath, then sighed, a ripple in still water. “If she’s from Little Shengsheng’s former family, I wouldn’t harm her no matter what. Do you mistrust Mom that much, like clouds mistrust rain?”

“I…” The word snagged like seaweed.

“Besides, I might never meet her,” she added, hands spreading like gull wings.

“She’ll come! Xuewei will definitely come… I’m afraid she’ll do something reckless, like a moth into flame.”

“Alright, alright. If I meet your sister, I’ll give her the pendant. Will that do?”

“Mm, tha—” Dreamsound’s palm covered my mouth, warm as a shore rock at dusk.

“Family doesn’t say thank you, okay?”

Family… huh? The word floated in my chest like a lantern on black water.

“I know. Then I’m counting on you. Mo—” I didn’t let the last word surface.

…

The Yunfeng Mountains are the continent’s spine, a roof of snow where wind cuts like knives. Legends say only beings who stand at the world’s summit survive there, and for the weak it’s a frozen hell. A few years ago, a girl with deep‑blue hair pushed into that realm like a comet into winter clouds.

“Xuewei, you’re pushing too hard. You’re strong enough now, and this kind of grinding won’t carry you farther,” said a girl with black‑and‑white hair at the windswept peak, watching the blue‑haired youth who had just butchered several monsters, blood steaming like dark incense on the snow.

“Not enough. I still haven’t reached my brother’s level back then,” Ling Xuewei answered, bracing both hands on her long spear. Her voice held no warmth, and she stood like a snow maiden, cold rolling off her in shivers.

Corpses lay at her boots, a garden of dread—some still leaked terror like smoke long after breath had fled. The Blackwind Demon Eagle, a horror that once slaughtered a small nation; the Dark Nether Dragon King, hundreds of meters long, a shadow that nests on Yunfeng’s crown; the mountain range’s overlord, the thousand‑meter Sky‑Swallowing Serpent. Any one of them could toy with a heap of second‑rate ninth‑rankers like cats with mice, but all had fallen as souls under her spear.

Her spearpoint burned with pale iceflame, and the shaft was banded in indomitable frost like rings of winter. Even from several meters away, the black‑and‑white‑haired woman felt the cold bite like iron.

“…I know you want revenge. I want it too!” she burst out, grief cracking like lake ice. “Han died. He slipped away without a sound, like snow melting in shade. Same as always—never caring about anyone’s feelings, only doing what he wanted… I was the one who tricked him into our team, but every time, he was the one protecting us. I dreamed that when I reached the summit, I’d protect everyone. But I couldn’t do anything,” her voice wavered, tears pricking like needles.

“…Sister Yunxiao, thank you for these years,” Ling Xuewei said, steadier, like frost settling. “Without you, I wouldn’t have advanced this fast. My brother was excessive, but he’s my brother all the same. I know you’re bound here and can’t leave, and maybe that hurts you worse than me. I’m sorry for what he did.”

“I can’t avenge him. I know I can’t kill the Gloomsea Wraith, not yet, like a skiff trying to swallow a wave. But if he’s alive, I’ll see him. If he’s dead, I’ll see his body. I’ll handle this myself. Sister Yunxiao, please don’t tell the others about my brother. I want to carry it alone.”

“Xuewei…” Yunxiao gave a bitter smile, thin as wind. “Even if I tried to stop you, would you listen?”

Ling Xuewei smiled, a bright, stubborn spark against the snow. “Nope~”

“Thank you, Sister Yunxiao,” she whispered, words falling soft as snowflakes into the silence.