“I can’t take you anymore, you jerk!” Heat snapped in my chest as I swatted her fingers away like a buzzing wasp.

“Mm—ow… that hurts.” Her voice fell soft, like rain on glass.

“You’re bluffing. I barely used any force…” My bravado hissed out like a punctured balloon; fine, maybe I pressed a little hard.

“Forget it—it’s fine, it’s fine. Little Tangxue, don’t mind it.” Her tone turned sugary, like frost on grapes. “Boss, another ice-blossom blueberry pudding!”

“Sure~” The owner chimed, light as wind bells. Across from us, Aunt Yuqiu randomly went all cutesy, cheeks puffed like dumplings.

She always plays cute in front of strangers; is that age peeking through, like autumn lines hidden under powder?

“Thanks for the company, you two cuties.” Her smile spread like honey under afternoon sun. “Big sis has to head back now. Maybe we won’t get many chances to meet again. Boo-hoo… I won’t see little Tangxue for a long while. I’ll miss you.”

“Oh.” My reply was ice-skim thin, floating on a flat lake.

She’s leaving? The ache rose, then I pressed it down like a lid on boiling soup. I should be fine. I’ve long trained myself on goodbyes.

“So cold… Alright, I’m really going. Bye… see you tomorrow~” She waved, teasing like a cat’s tail.

I almost tripped in place, heart kicking the floor. “You trash!”

“What’s wrong? For me, a day is a long time.” She laughed, bright as chimes. “The Academy invited me. Might give a talk at your place. See you tomorrow.” Xing Muhuan finally left, yet kept glancing back, step by reluctant step, like a kite tugging its string.

“Honestly… let’s go too, Lan’er. She’s gone, and the day’s tide is turning. We should head home.”

“Mm… Xuewei, my head feels not right. So weird.” Her gaze clouded like mist over a valley.

“Then let’s fix it with something good.” I winked, trying to lift her mood like a lantern. “Food mutes the hurt; that’s how I got through.”

She shook her head, gathering her tangled look like folding a shawl. “Mm.”

Noon. Far from Starfate City, the Black Moon Forest wore noon like a lie. Under the towering, tight-woven branches, light drowned into ink, and the air tasted of moss.

“Tch. Annoying.” Blood-wings unfurled behind Vinoena Qianya like night-blooming petals. From a high branch, her eyes skimmed the ground like knives. “The Vampire’s hounds chased this far?”

They weren’t hunters; they were his blood thralls, bodies wearing a master’s leash like iron collars.

He was the last royal blood of the Vampires, sealed once, and so he slipped the slaughter like a fish through a net.

She and he both sought each other’s death, hungry for strength like wolves over a single bone. But Qianya’s hunger was older: vengeance burned like a coal buried in snow. She sat at the world’s peak, with life that wouldn’t end, flesh that rebuilt like tide-washed sand, and magic that split heaven and earth. All of it felt like ash next to that one ember—the hate that hauled her out from a mountain of corpses.

When she learned the thing that shattered her family and took her mother still lived, the urge to drag that sealed Vampire out and whip the corpse flared like wildfire.

Frontally, she couldn’t win. To strip the foul Vampire bloodline from her veins, she had to use royal Vampire blood as the guide, burn the taint out like slag, and refine the Blood Elf within to a blade’s edge.

Likewise, he wanted her—wanted to use her body as a living crucible, siphon her power, and claim a spotless right to the Moonveil Empire’s throne.

Her and that filthy bug—death until death, a knot tied in iron.

His eyes had reached this forest, so she had to clean them out and leave a few breadcrumbs, make him think she nested here. Otherwise, they’d follow the vine back to Starfate City.

Vinoena Qianya dropped from the canopy like a red-leaf, and stood before the thralls with dusk in her eyes.

Most were human—many young women, some hulking men—faces dulled like moonstones. He had already trailed his scent into the human cities. Every forehead wore the same mark: a blood thrall’s brand, a curse that pins a life like a moth to a board.

“! It’s the former Queen of the Blood! Report to the master! We’ve found the Queen of the Blood!” Panic frayed their voices like torn cloth.

She gave them no time. Dark-red sigils crawled up their skin like thorn-vines waking in spring.

Her voice slid out cold, smooth as a blade in water. “You died the moment you knelt to that maggot. Goodbye.”

In the Black Moon Forest, every thrall burst where they stood, like overripe fruit under a boot. Not one survived.

Qianya looked over the mess, breath easing like fog leaving a pond.

She couldn’t hurl big spells; they’d leave a scent, a trail like oil on water. So she turned their blood-slave contracts against them, a quiet knife in the dark.

All the thralls died… The silence rang like a bell.

Would this draw Starfate City’s eyes? Probably not. Let the wolves write the story with tracks and torn bark.

Not far away, in another city’s light, a white-haired youth held his teacup. His fingers trembled like plucked strings. Blood-red pupils shrank, then smoothed, calm as a still lake.

“Found you… Blood Elf.” His smile sharpened like frost. “Starfate City, right? Heh…”