Couldn’t sleep… still couldn’t. I tossed like a boat in chop, never finding a position that fit. My stomach sat heavy like a stone.

I guess I ate too much… and now the night stretched like cold silk, sleepless.

Tonight was fated to be a night without rest.

…

Tonight, for many, was a night without rest.

“Run, Your Majesty!” In the royal city of a small kingdom near Starfate City, terror unfolded like a torn banner. A hapless king fled, and behind him surged a blood‑red tide.

“Do you think you can outrun me?” The Vampire King, Edgar Warren, watched with a predator’s calm. He cut down blocking knights as if plucking weeds under moonlight.

The horror was this: the knights he pierced through the chest didn’t die. Their eyes bulged, veins flooding red, then burned like embers.

When they stood again, their swords no longer lifted against the invader, but toward the king they once served.

Facing a creature at the summit of fear, these little kingdoms could marshal everything and still break like pottery under three strikes. A captured king was only a matter of time.

“Why…” Kings who schemed only to keep their ancestry intact never imagined the day a nation’s candle would gutter. On the brink, he wanted an answer.

“If I have to say it… my puppets ran short.” Edgar’s voice was light, like frost. “To take the city where that woman hides, I can’t openly move the Blood Clan army. Heh…”

Blood Clan? Army? That woman… The old king’s eyes flew wide at the rumor of the Queen of the Blood’s disappearance. Then they went dim like lamps in rain.

“So dead already? How dull.” Edgar clicked his tongue, bored. “Fine. May you be useful in the siege that follows. An eighth‑tier blood thrall, self‑detonating… should crack a slice of the shielding.”

He turned. Blood‑colored eyes swept toward Starfate City like twin suns eclipsed. “Where can you hide now? Everything around you is my net. You’re only a cornered mouse, Blood Elf.”

…

Morning came, and I hadn’t slept a wink.

I was wired, stomach still full, no drowsiness at all… though a nap after lunch used to knock me out like a lullaby.

“Morning, Tangxue. Your dark circles…” At the corner, Snow Orchid caught me under the pale sky.

“Eh—do I? Already? It’s only been one night…”

“It’s not that bad. Just a touch,” she said, voice soft as steam. “You look a bit out of it, so I figured you had some.”

“Really…” Am I actually a little kid now? One all‑nighter, and the fallout hits like winter.

“Tangxue, did you sleep badly?”

“Yeah… didn’t sleep at all.”

“Eh?”

“Stop with the ‘eh.’ I ate some… things before bed. Stayed awake till dawn.”

“…”

“Then you’re not sleepy now?”

“I’m fine. I’ll ride the leftover energy and head to school.”

“Oh, don’t nod off in class! Want me to nudge you?”

“No need.” If I’m a very, very strong fighter, and I doze off in class, what am I even doing?

If I sleep in class, I’ll—forget it, don’t jinx it. I’m scared of jinxes.

“Let’s hit the cafeteria for breakfast. Since you didn’t sleep, we won’t make you cook today.”

“…Am I the designated cook now?”

“Right—Qianya already grabbed our food. Let’s hurry before she waits too long.”

“Mm.” 6:46 a.m., clear skies in my head, no sleepiness.

Honestly, who gets sleepy before they sit down in the classroom?

By the end of today, I learned one truth: if I pull an all‑nighter now, I’m toast.

“Tangxue… Tangxue, the teacher’s calling you…”

“Hoo… zzz…”

“…”

Up on the podium, Fangzhe froze like a stag in lantern‑light. Even with the whole class watching, words stuck like rice.

Yesterday, some crazy woman sweet‑talked his wife into leaving him on a street bench, wind cutting like knives. He stared at the night all the way to dawn.

Now, half‑dreaming in class, he faced a student sleeping right under his nose. He—he was so jealous.

Why didn’t he dare punish someone napping in his lecture?

Because at three in the morning, that madwoman ran over and beat him, then warned him not to lay a finger on the girl. No punishments. Or she’d dump him in the far northern ocean.

If Fangzhe didn’t know she was an older, unmarried lady, he’d suspect this was her secret daughter.

In short, he could only watch the girl sleep on the desk, cheek on cool wood like a cat in sun.

“Shh. If Qingsheng Tangxue is really tired, let her sleep,” Fangzhe sighed, a tired wind through reeds. “Snow Orchid, you’re her friend, right? Note the lesson well and teach her later. Don’t wake her.”

“…Thank you. I’ll thank you for her.”

“No need,” Fangzhe said, mouth twisting into a bitter smile.