Luck leaned toward her like dawn lifting mist. The Goblins broke into a scatter of panic, chattering like startled sparrows, and Puxiao’s chance opened like a gate.

She spotted the perfect gap, slipped through like a shadow among reeds, and ghosted out of the Goblin pack unseen.

The Goblins went rabid like a brushfire in dry grass, and hunted her with howls. Stones and arrows fanned toward her like a bitter wind.

An arrow bit her back like a thorn, a stone rang off her head like a bell, but her feet hammered on like a drum. She had to live—like a spark refusing rain.

She ran toward the place where that earlier sound had cracked the silence, her shoes wearing thin like old leather in a storm.

The sole split; her ankle bled like a red thread on gravel. She couldn’t stop—like a deer chased by hornets—because a pause would bring the swarm behind.

Until she saw three girls, fourteen or fifteen, standing like lilies by a river bend.

In a blink her face flipped like weather: thrill like sunrise, tears like rain, stiffness like frost, and then the light draining like dusk—despair.

“Qianya, there’s a woman up ahead with Goblins on her heels,” one girl said, voice steady like a drawn bow. “Watch your aim; don’t clip her. Her mind looks frayed.”

“Mm. I trust my control,” Qianya answered, cool as still water.

The Goblins, seeing three women appear like stars in a moonless night, got even hotter, like moths battering a flame. Women here were their stolen breeding sacks, toys tossed like stones.

Intruders were “impossible,” yet three beauties had walked in like spring into winter—one with a body like a sculpted cypress—and their last scrap of reason burned away like dry straw.

Compared to those three, their original prey was a village sparrow beside three phoenixes. They switched targets on a crude impulse, dumped the despairing Puxiao, and rushed at Qingsheng Tangxue and her two friends like a black tide.

“These Goblins really don’t fear death,” Qingsheng Tangxue said, disgust sharp as vinegar, eyeing a little hill of Goblins already trussed like bundles of straw.

“Still, there are dozens here, right? More than before,” Snow Orchid murmured, breath tight like a bowstring. “How many does this cave hold?”

“No,” Qianya shook her head, calm as a winter tree. “There were more sniping from outside.”

“Um… Adventurers, please,” Puxiao said, and fell to her knees like a willow bowing in wind. “Save them.”

“Hey—Auntie, don’t do that,” Qingsheng Tangxue said, gentle as warm rain. “We came to wipe out Goblins. If you can tell us where they are, that’s perfect.”

“I know,” Puxiao trembled, like a leaf remembering hail. “I… I came from over there just now. I… they… were—”

“Auntie, slow down,” Snow Orchid soothed, voice soft as cotton. “Breathe first.”

“It’s too late!” Puxiao burst out, panic slicing like a knife. “We can’t… we can’t drag this! Or they’ll be beyond saving!”

“Okay, I hear you,” Qingsheng Tangxue said, eyes steady like lanterns. “At least show us the way.”

“Over there… I’ll take you,” Puxiao forced herself upright like a reed in wind, and staggered toward the path she’d fled.

“Auntie, your ankle’s hurt,” Qingsheng Tangxue said, kneeling like a healer by a riverbank. “Let me patch you first.”

Her left hand gathered an ice-blue glow like moonlight on water, and swept over the wound. Frost bloomed there like morning rime, easing pain like snow on fire.

“Auntie, once we get out, find a doctor,” she said, voice firm as a handrail. “This only delays pain and slows the damage; it doesn’t mend the wound. And your shoe’s blown, right? I’ve got a spare.”

She pulled a pair of rugged sneakers from her pack like tools from a carpenter’s belt—ugly, sure, but solid as rock.

“Cough… thank you,” Puxiao said, pressing her chest like damp cloth, then stood with the new shoes, steadier like a pole.

Snow Orchid moved in, hands gentle as vines, to keep the woman from falling. “I’ll hold you, Auntie.”

“Thank you, little sister,” Puxiao rasped, urgency crackling like dry twigs. “We have to hurry… that way we can save more… cough…”

“Auntie, are you really okay?” Snow Orchid asked, worry a cloud over her eyes.

“I… I’m fine—can still hold on,” Puxiao said, resolve like iron under silk.

Qingsheng Tangxue glanced at her, concern dark as a storm, but let it pass like a gust.

With Auntie leading like a lantern, we found Goblins trying to flee, scuttling like roaches.

Qianya, quiet as a deep pond till now, unleashed a mental shock like a thunderclap, and Snow Orchid’s element arrows streaked like comets, each strike clean as rain.

In no time, we handled dozens, like cutting through reeds. Puxiao’s escape had stirred chaos like bees in a hive.

Then their “King” above pressed them like a mountain, ordering them to purge intruders, so none had mind for their usual filth. They ran panicked like headless hens—until our attack fell like a storm.

“These Goblins…!” Snow Orchid glared at the bound ones, her anger rising like a blaze.

Qianya and Qingsheng Tangxue kept faces calm as stone, yet their fury burned same as Snow Orchid’s, hot under frost.

Puxiao helped with bandages like a field nurse, joining the many women we’d freed, hands moving like careful birds.

“After this,” Qingsheng Tangxue said, voice measured like steps on a narrow bridge, “one of us should escort Auntie Puxiao and the others out. The task matters, but lives weigh heavier.”

“…I’ll go,” Qianya said, volunteering like a flag planted on a hill.

This might leave a good mark on Kerlinveil Xuewei, she thought, hope flickering like a lamp. Better than points.

“Mm. Then Snow Orchid and I will handle the rest,” Qingsheng Tangxue said, nodding like a steady drum. “Qianya, be careful on the road.”

“Got it,” Qianya replied, dry as winter air. “I won’t forget when my period’s due.”

“That was an accident! An accident!” Qingsheng Tangxue spluttered, face puffing like a tea kettle.

“Yes, yes~” Qianya teased, smile like a cat’s whisker.

“Hey!!” Snow Orchid groaned, exasperation like a creak in wood.

“Auntie Puxiao,” Qingsheng Tangxue said, tone gentle as sunshine, “you should get going. Wounds don’t heal in this damp cave. Follow our trail marks out; our teacher’s watching outside.”

“I understand. Thank you,” Puxiao said, gratitude warm as soup, holding Snow Orchid’s hand like a lifeline. “If not for you, we’d be dead. And please… escort us out.”

“If we make it back alive,” a villager laughed, relief like wind after rain, “please visit our village!”

“Yeah, girls,” another chimed, joy bubbling like a spring, “we’d feel guilty forever if you don’t come.”

“If you visit,” an older voice said, hearty as a hearth, “I’ll be first to host you for dinner!”

Snow Orchid froze under the flood of warmth like a deer in soft light, and turned into a nodding machine like a bobbing dove, until Qingsheng Tangxue tapped her shoulder like a light knock.

“Alright, say your goodbyes,” she said, smile small as a crescent moon. “They’re heading out. Bye, Auntie! Qianya, buy me a dessert on the way back!”

“I’m just escorting them,” Qianya sighed, helpless as a breeze. “I might be coming right back in.”

“Ah—right… ehehe~” Qingsheng Tangxue laughed, awkward as a stray note.

Is she playing dumb or truly dense? Qianya wondered, thought a stone skipping across water.

Forget it. Move.

In the end, Qianya led the women toward the mouth of the cave like a shepherd guiding a flock, while Snow Orchid and I went deeper like lanterns seeking the root of darkness.

…

“Hello~ handsome, interested in a partnership?” a blonde girl in Lolita fashion cooed, squatting by Yanfengle like a curious sparrow on a cliff edge.

A tiny maid stood beside her like a silver bell in black lace. Below, the abyss yawned like a bottomless throat, swallowing light.

“Waaah! When did you get here?!” Yanfengle yelped, heart diving like a stone. He almost pitched over the cliff, saved only by the maid’s quick grip like a hook.

“Don’t be so tense,” the blonde sang, smile sweet as frosting. “Yueqin and I have been watching you forever—if we wanted to punt you off, we’d have used a foot ages ago~”

…Fine, I’m in her maid’s hand. What she says goes, Yanfengle thought, resignation flat as a calm lake.

“Again: interested in teaming up, handsome?” the blonde asked, eyes glinting like fish scales.

“Can I say no?”

Yingxuan closed her cherry lips with a smile like a sealed letter, and said nothing.

“Yes yes yes!”

Lucky~, Yingxuan hummed inside, pleasure flickering like candlelight, seeing the boy fold.

These past two days had been cursed like a string of sour grapes. I’d prepped to share a dorm with that big-chested girl, plans set like dominoes—and her dorm was already full!

I figured she’d head back to the half-hill villa; I even set an ambush like a cat at a mouse hole. Then she got led off midway—damn it!

On the next day, I didn’t even go talk to her, swamped by pests like flies. Those useless clowns kept cozying up just because I’m a princess—ugh. I didn’t even get a word with her. I’m keeping that grudge like a stone in my shoe.

Before the exam, I wanted to drag Yueqin to find her and form a team. I don’t mind crowds—if I get to talk, I can rope her and her friends in like nets gathering fish.

But they ran fast, like hares over hills. I’ve never been athletic; my body’s soft as tofu, so Yueqin had to shepherd me the whole way. The moment we dispersed, they didn’t stop at all.

Every time I got within reach like a hand toward rain, they suddenly sped up. Too much!

By nightfall, we never caught them. We holed up in the nearest village like travelers under a thatched roof, because the sky had turned black.

Next morning, the neighboring village screamed of Goblins, and it’s close like a shared fence.

What a streak—bad luck sticking like burrs.

Still, we found a decent partner, heh. He looks unreliable, silly as a lamb, easy to fool, and useful as a tool.

“This exam isn’t as simple as it looks,” Yingxuan said, perching on a stone like a songbird, smile light as spring. “With average skill, Goblins won’t hurt us, but we might get nothing.”

“First, why did teachers allow teams while trimming rewards?” she continued, words clicking like beads. “Because teaming beats solo by a wide margin.”

“Teachers nudged us toward solo like wind against sails, but even reduced, team returns should top a loner’s haul.”

“Capture a Goblin: plus two. Kill a Goblin: plus one. In teams, we can bag most, maybe all, like nets on a river. Alone, for speed, you’d keep killing like chopping weeds.”

“I think the real trouble sits at the canyon floor like a coiled serpent.”

“…Oh. So you came to recruit me, right?”

“…Yes,” she said, a little airless, like a flute note cut short.

“Then it’s fine. Let’s go~” Yanfengle grinned, joy sprouting like bamboo. Teaming with beautiful girls? Why refuse?

…Then why did I say all that? Yingxuan thought, speech rising like steam and vanishing.

“Do we need prep?” Yanfengle asked, peering over the edge like a gull. “It’s bottomless down there. If we jump…”

“As long as we use the teacher’s devices right, we’ll be fine,” the maid—Yueqin—said, voice crisp as ice. “The Academy tests gear before we touch it. Relax.”

“…Oh.”

Yanfengle kept his mouth shut. Better to swallow his words like stones into a well than muddy their view of him with more talk.

There was another reason he’d jumped at cooperation, like grabbing a raft in fast water.

"Team up to kill Goblins, then find a sacred relic buried under this canyon—there’s no way I clear that alone."

The gorge gaped below like a scar in the earth.

"Why would an entrance exam throw something this messy at us, like a bramble thicket?"

He sighed; the other world wasn’t half as fun as it had looked, the shine wearing off like paint in rain.

A voice brushed him like wind over grass: "What are you staring at, Mr. Yanfengle?"

He croaked, staring over the cliff that bit the sky: "Uh, are we really jumping? It’s so high..."

Yingxuan let out a helpless breath, thin and white as morning mist.

She should’ve given him one clean boot off the edge earlier.

"Yueqin... I’m counting on you," she said, her voice cool as moonlight on stone.

"Understood, milady," Yueqin answered, the words clicking into place like a clasp.

He yelped, words tumbling like loose gravel: "Hey, hey, hey—don’t drag me, I can walk! Aaaah, I’ll do it, don’t—no, no—have mercy, milady!"

He flailed like a cat hauled by the scruff.

Before they tossed him, the little maid had already buckled a device onto him, its straps snug as ivy.

He’d be fine when he dropped, like a spider riding its own silver line.

The little maid dusted her palms and turned to the Princess, her nose wrinkling like she’d smelled sour wine.

"Your Highness, are we really working with that guy? He looks a little... dopey."

"I trust my eye for people," Yingxuan said, calm as a lake under dusk.

"He does look silly, but he must have some hidden edge—an ember under ash. We just haven’t seen it yet. Watch and see."

Her assent was soft as a nodding reed: "Mm, I believe you, Your Highness."

She tipped her chin, bright as frost in sun: "Then it’s our turn. Let’s go."