“So that’s your spearwork? All rush, no rhythm, like a boar charging blind.” Her sigh drifted like mist as Dreamsound pressed a palm to her brow, eyes on Ling Xuewei trapped in a water cage offshore.

“Y-you cheat!”

Wait—hadn’t she heard that line before, like an echo in a cavern?

“You thought your iceflame would dam the sea and let you run wild?” Her voice rang cool, like wind across ice. “I figured you for cautious, but the moment blades sing, your brain blows away like leaves in a gale.”

On the skin of the sea, inside a bubble like a glassy prison, Ling Xuewei held her tongue and glared like a hawk caged under water.

She really had underestimated her foe; the thought twisted like a hook. The bubble tormented her each time she tried to gather mana, cold threads tightening like wires, and her focus scattered like a startled school of fish.

“So boring,” Dreamsound said, flicking her spear, the shaft quivering like a willow switch over ripples. “I thought you’d be some storm, and all that bragging was just ‘charge and done.’ The moment I add a touch of technique, your Iceflame Spear chases its own tail like a leaf in a whirlpool.”

“Honestly… adorable.” Her smile was bright and cruel, like sunlight on frost.

Ling Xuewei stared, lips trembling like a bowstring, silvered teeth ready to crack like ice on glass.

But she could do nothing. Even the weapon she trusted lay tossed aside like driftwood. The gap between them yawned like an ocean trench, in mana and in skill alike.

“…No. Something’s wrong with Shengsheng!” Dreamsound’s pupils tightened like a storm drawing in. “I can’t waste time. I need to dive, now.”

“Hey, you—Ling-whatever.” Dreamsound’s voice carried like a pebble skipping over waves. “This pendant’s your brother’s, right? He asked me to bring it to you. Do as you see fit.” She tossed it, a glint like a falling star. “And on your way back, same route, don’t touch a single sea creature, if you don’t want to die like bait among sleeping sharks.”

She ignored the shock on Ling Xuewei’s face, tossed the pendant, then snapped her fingers; the sound cracked like dry ice. The bubble burst like a soap film, and Ling Xuewei froze a beat too long.

The pendant slipped and fell, a silver spark sinking like a star into the deep.

“…”

“…I’ve got things to do. You take your time finding it.” Dreamsound vanished from the sea’s skin like a shadow swallowed by sunlight, leaving Ling Xuewei stunned in her wake.

“How am I supposed to find that, you jerk!” Her voice broke like foam against rocks.

The cruelest act is to hand you hope and drown it in the next breath, like lifting a swimmer then shoving them under. Ling Xuewei’s hatred for Qingyu Mengyin burned to white heat, like iron in a forge.

…

Why—why did you leave me, Sister? The plea shook like a reed in winter wind. We promised forever, but you tossed me aside like a ribbon in the gutter.

Is power really that important? Without strength, can’t we stay together, like two lamps against the night? You’d trust strangers and turn your back on me, like a door slamming in rain?

Maybe power truly matters; the thought tasted like iron. Without it, I don’t even have the right to keep our bond, like a lock I can’t key.

Sister, if you love strength that much, I’ll chase it like a seed clawing through frost. I won’t be parted from you. I’ll prove I’m not trash, like a spark refusing to go out in the wind.

Ow, my head—who does this memory belong to? It feels like one of those trash-protag rise stories, like a dog-eared paperback stuffed with clichés. It’s not mine; I’m watching from the rafters, like a ghost peeking in.

I remember Dreamsound threw me into a pool, then the lights went out, like a curtain falling. Hey! The story’s over—shouldn’t I wake up? Anyone? My voice bubbled up like air from the deep.

“Master, don’t call out. You can’t wake now.” The reply was cool and clear, like moonlight on snow.

Ah, Frostwhisper! You’re finally awake? I missed you to death! After that day I— The words tumbled like a string of beads.

“Shh.” Frostwhisper’s fingertip sealed my lips, cool as ice on a fever. “What you’re seeing is your past life. I remembered it while I slept, like snow recalling winter. It matters. Please remember it.”

“You’re still asleep. When the bloodline awakening finishes, you’ll wake, like dawn after the longest night. So don’t worry.”

Oh. Got it, Frostwhisper. Then keep me company—I’m bored, like a cat pacing a windowsill.

“No. I’m going back to sleep. Good night.” Her voice fluttered away like a falling feather.

Hey, Frostwhisper? Don’t leave me alone… My plea dimmed like a candle in a draft.

…

What happened? Dreamsound’s heart sank like a stone. Why did Shengsheng’s body freeze over? That never happened during any awakening, like a clear sky suddenly hailing.

No—stay calm. This chill isn’t ordinary; it feels familiar, like a key I know but can’t turn, and yet I can’t dispel it.

“Do we just keep waiting?” Her whisper trembled like a line in the wind. “Shengsheng, if you’re not awake by today, we won’t make the cake. We’ll have to eat bread with seaweed crackers, like ship rations.”

“Bleh! No, no, no!” The protest burst out like a cat spitting. “Old hag Dream, if you feed me bread again, I’ll whip your butt with my stilettos!”

The frost sheathing Qingsheng Tangxue melted at once, vanishing like hoarfrost under spring sun, and Shengsheng, eyes still closed, gagged theatrically like a child tasting medicine.

“…Little Shengsheng, you’re awake?” Dreamsound smiled sweetly, honey over snow.

“Mmm…” I swallowed nonexistent saliva, heat rising like steam. I’d thought it was still a dream and I’d said the quiet part out loud…

“Let’s go home,” she sang, voice light as windchimes. “We can still make the cake.”

“Oh… Dream… you’re not mad?” My question wavered like a kite’s tail.

“Mad at what?” She blinked, playful as rain on a window. “We are, in fact, a hundred-and-some years old. Can’t play cutesy before a kid, right, little Shengsheng?”

I wanted to cry—no, I didn’t want to go home, like a cat balking at a bath.

“I’ll make the cake,” I said, resolve setting like ink. After the awakening, I could feel I’d grown taller, and new ‘knowledge’ had settled in me like constellations—how to take human form, and more.

“No! It’s your sixth birthday,” Dreamsound declared, pride bright as a banner. “I have to make it.”

“But…”

“Shengsheng, trust Mom this once, okay?” Her gaze held a soft plea, like rain asking parched earth to drink.

“…” Ugh, now I’m the bad guy, like a villain in a fairy tale.

I’d planned to take over the kitchen from now on, to let her taste what it’s like when someone else holds the ladle, like reins on a wild horse. Fine. Just this once.

I puffed my cheeks and turned away, stubborn as a pebble. “Do what you want. But if it’s awful… I’m not helping you finish it.”

“Mm!” Dreamsound’s smile broke like sunrise, bright and warm.

“Then let’s hurry back,” I groaned, clutching my belly like a drum. “I’m starving…”