“Tss—ow, ow, ow! Teacher, easy!”

Beside him, a young woman with ink-black hair just watched the red‑haired boy wince, speechless.

In her casual clothes, Yue Shuya looked twenty-something—soft voice, quiet eyes, a beauty with a flawless figure. In truth, she’d lived over a century, same generation as the current Queen.

“Serves you right. You were going to go easy on that girl,” she said, voice cool as a winter stream. “Look at you now—one cheek blown up, face almost ruined.”

“I didn’t think she’d go that hard,” Fang Zhe muttered, guilt like a pebble in his throat. “I stacked several layers of wards the second the match started…”

“Yeah. If you hadn’t layered those wards—and if she hadn’t pulled her punch at the last second—you wouldn’t be sitting here,” Yue Shuya shot him a glance like a knife-edge. “There was a blockhead about as strong as you, a dedicated frontliner. He had a brain cramp and tried to flirt with Kerlinveil Xuewei. One punch. Nose shattered. Everything below the belt went wrong. He was in bed for months and only got a little better.”

“…But teacher, I’m the one who got burned here, right? I got stood up, then I got beat up, and now I’ve lost face—literally. Ugh.”

“To be honest, that girl’s been more restrained these last years,” Yue Shuya sighed, like wind through bamboo. “I remember a high official bad‑mouthing her brother. Next day, she stormed the palace. The kicker? She actually got in. Beat the man up in front of everyone.”

“Uh…” Fang Zhe thought of the person involved and shut his mouth.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Yue Shuya rubbed her temple with a helpless smile. “First, she really does have the strength to break into the palace. I was there. Second, she knocked half the high‑grade magitech in the palace offline. For a full minute, everyone thought an enemy state had invaded.”

“As for Her Majesty… well—let’s just say the Queen didn’t mind seeing that official get smacked.”

“Later, I heard Her Majesty dragged the girl in and ‘disciplined’ her. After that, the girl behaved better.”

“…”

“Bottom line, kid—you got lucky. She didn’t vent her fire on you.”

Fang Zhe touched his left cheek, swollen bigger than the padded fake C-cup in front of him, and said nothing.

“Her raw power is scary. I’m not sure I could beat her,” Yue Shuya admitted, tone flat as frost.

“Even you, teacher? That’s…”

“Close enough. Her ability’s a mutation in her bloodline. Not the royal Sunflame. That Iceflame is toxic. Few elements stand before it. Water and fire get hard‑countered. Unless there’s a massive gap, you won’t get a chance.”

“A mutated attribute? That’s kind of like the elemental fusion I’ve been trying. Interesting…”

“It is. Shame I went all‑in on a single element. I can’t do multi‑element like you,” she said, then her voice turned gentle. “As your teacher, one reminder. Elemental fusion exists on paper, but most of the time, elements cancel. Making them merge is hard.”

“Mm.” Fang Zhe lowered his head, thoughts pooling like ink.

Looks like I still need to go find her.

“Don’t just ‘mm’ me. Your teacher is talking. Hey!”

…

Radiant Empire, royal palace.

“Huh? Miss Xuewei, what brings you here?” A young blonde maid spotted Xuewei mid‑sneak. White over‑knee socks and a short skirt framed her elegant lines.

“Ah—Sis Hanrui… you scared me.” Xuewei patted her chest and let out a breath.

“You,” Hanrui sighed, eyes warm as spring rain. “If you’re coming to the palace, just walk in the front gate. Why sneak every time?”

“It’s not that. I just… don’t feel used to the front door,” Xuewei said, gaze skittering away like a startled sparrow.

“Pfft. Everyone’s said they won’t hold that palace‑storming incident against you anymore. What are you still worried about?”

“Whatever. I just like sneaking in! I’m actually here to say goodbye to Royal Sister. Sis Hanrui, I’m leaving.”

“…Didn’t you just go out to sea? What, new lead?”

“No.” Xuewei’s smile tilted bitter, like salt on the tongue. “I’m going to wait for someone. My brother’s not dead, but he probably did something suicidal again. He promised to find me after. I want to wait in Starfate City.”

Ling Yehan’s old house is there.

“All right. If you want to see Her Majesty, go to her chambers. She should be in,” Hanrui said. “Write often when you get there. I’ll miss you, and so will Her Majesty. Oh, and little Yingxuan…”

“Got it. I’m going, Sis Hanrui.”

“Mm. Bye‑bye.” Hanrui waved toward Xuewei’s retreating back, then sighed, like a leaf drifting down. “Girls grow up and won’t stay. Will little Yingxuan leave us too someday?”

Just before the Queen’s door, Xuewei paused. She thought a moment, then knocked.

“Xuewei, isn’t it? Come in.”

“Sorry to intrude, Royal Sister.” She checked that no one had followed, then closed the door softly.

“What brings you to me, Xuewei?” In face and bone, the Queen and Xuewei shared much—save for hair and eye color. Yet the Queen carried a melancholy that clung like mist.

Golden hair couldn’t hide that gloom; her red‑gold eyes held the weary calm of someone who’d seen too much.

Blood sisters, both with long, full legs like sculpted jade. But Her Majesty’s curves—especially her bust—were far more generous. Far.

“Um… Royal Sister, I’m leaving. I plan to stay in Starfate City for a while.”

“…Is it because of your brother, Ling Yehan?”

“Mm.” Xuewei dreaded chatting with her most. Keep it short, if possible. Talking to Royal Sister was torture—in every sense.

“Fate is cruel,” the Queen murmured, sorrow rising like low tide. “Poor child. You and your brother could have lived together in peace, yet countless reasons forced you apart… As your sister, I’ve never been able to help you. I’m sorry…”

The Queen’s depressive aura unfurled like a heavy fog.

“If only I weren’t Queen. I’d sit beside my little sister when she needed me. I’d be a good mother and give Yingxuan warmth…”

No, I think Hanrui had reasons to take Yingxuan. And… you’re plenty big already. You’re just not proactive.

“Sometimes I envy the elves,” she said, eyes lifting to a sky only she could see. “They live happy, carefree days, not weighed down by trifles. If I weren’t Queen, could I go wandering too?”

“But I can’t. In politics, I’m a cold arbiter who’s taken countless lives. At home, I’m an irresponsible mother who leaves everything to the head maid… I’ve never given my family warmth.”

You’re sorry for being Queen?

Please, spare me! I can’t take it anymore!

“Royal Sister! Stop, please stop. I’m leaving in a moment—say something nice, just this once…” Xuewei clapped her hands over her ears and plopped to the floor, on the brink of tears.

“…” Her Majesty—Kerlinveil Bai Zhi—smiled, faint as winter sun. “Go find your happiness, Xuewei.”