Over the central square, the sky sagged like a bruised lid, sinking fully into dark; the air was a sour fog, blood and battlefield stench braided together, enough to make faces pinch.

When we came back to the square, the gloom still hung like wet wool, yet it felt thinner; I guessed City Lord Fan Chen’s speech had cut a slit in the clouds. My fingers were hooked around Qianya’s hand when a mother and daughter on the curb fixed their eyes on us.

They wore plain patched cloth, thin as paper lanterns; a long flax-gold braid lay neat down her back, and mud smeared their faces like dried riverbeds, their features carved with exhaustion.

In Starfate City, where the average life sits a notch above, sights like them still drift like fallen leaves—common, and quiet.

“Mom… it stinks like rotten eggs… I wanna throw up.”

“Be good. It’ll pass in a bit, baby, don’t cry.” The girl didn’t complain more; she pressed herself to her mother like a swallow to a warm eave, and the closeness steadied her.

A gentle envy rose like a soft tide; having a mother to lean on—how sweet that shelter is.

I smoothed my face into a healing smile, like sunlight through gauze, and told her, “Little sister, does it hurt to breathe? Here—this is some juice I made. A sip will settle you.” I handed her a bottle, my own mix—just fruit pressed together, yet it calms the heart like a quiet pond.

“Big sister, y-you… what is this…?” She was used to cold stares; kindness felt like foreign rain, and she didn’t even know where to put her hands.

A small cringe flicked like a gnat under my skin at “big sister,” but I pinned it down, a leaf under glass; no need to show that to her.

“It’s juice, little sister—sweet as summer. For you.”

Qianya watched, expression flat; she lacked saintly softness. Her rule ran like river law—better to teach the net than toss a fish. Helping strays? She’d rather leave that to Tangxue, a bleeding heart whose kindness spills like sugar.

After a breath of hesitance, she decided the juice was truly a gift; her hand shot out like a bird, snatching it before it could turn to feathers and fly.

Thirst had baked her dry; with the bottle in hand, she fumbled the cap, fingers skittering like startled ants.

Her mother, bowing thanks like reeds in wind, sighed and reached to help; the cap yielded with a twist, and the girl took a small sip, a satisfied smile blooming like dawn.

“Big sister’s juice is so tasty—sweet like orchard sun~ Mom, here.”

“I won’t. Yun’er, you drink it yourself.” Her voice stood firm, a small fence against want.

“If Mom won’t, I won’t either… Big sister, then I’ll give it back…” Yun’er wavered, reluctance clinging like dew, but she held the bottle out to me.

“This whole bottle’s yours. Honestly, I’ve got lots more of this juice, stashed like baskets of fruit~”

“R-really?” Dirt smudged her cheeks, yet her eyes shone bright as the other children’s, twin stars in a muddy sky.

“Mm!” She nodded, quick as a sparrow peck.

“Thank you, big sister!” Her voice rang like a small silver bell.

Yun’er hugged the bottle to her chest like a warm loaf, then turned, popped the cap, and offered it to her mother.

“Mom, for you~” Her arm arced like a willow switch.

The woman glanced at us, hesitation fluttering like a moth; seeing no disgust in our faces, she lifted the bottle and sipped, light as tasting rain.

Even just a small mouthful, the juice washed comfort through her like summer waves; the road-worn fatigue felt rinsed away by that tide.

She let her eyes narrow in comfort, like shutters closing on noon sun.

Coming back to herself, she handed the bottle to the girl. “Yun’er, Mommy’s had enough; the rest’s all yours.”

Yun’er’s face wavered like ripples, yet she pushed the bottle back with both hands. “No, Mom should drink!”

Qianya couldn’t bear watching, and with a weary palm to her forehead, she strode over. Her bracelet flashed, and two big cups slid into her hands; a blink of white light, and the bottles in our grip divided like moon halves. The juice flowed by her magic into the cups, and she pressed one into each of their palms.

“Ah! My bottle! I traded for that with a tenth of a day’s work at Aunt Yuqiu’s shop, ahhh—earned with sweat like beads of dew!”

Qianya fell silent, words jamming like pebbles in a stream; she badly wanted to snark, yet didn’t know where to start.

“Just drink up. This mess will end soon.” Qianya paused, words tasting like iron. “Starfate City… whatever else it lacks, the living’s decent like a harbor. When this passes, there should be some aid; life here won’t treat you poorly.”

“Um… big sister…” Her voice floated like a thin leaf in wind.

“Ah—wha—mmph—!”

Qianya suddenly stuffed a handkerchief into my mouth, yanked my collar, and hauled me back like tugging a kite tail.

She glanced back at the girl, who still had words fluttering in her eyes. “Bye. Don’t fuss about the bottle. This will pass soon; just find a chance and hide.”

“Mmph, mmph!”

“We’re leaving, idiot,” her voice cracking like a whip.

“Mmm-mm-mm-mm!”

…

Once we’d put some distance between us and the women, I tore the handkerchief from my mouth. “Why do you all love grabbing my collar? It squashes my chest like a stone on a sparrow!”

“Strange. I thought you’d complain about me slicing your bottle, Xiaoxue, yet your first worry is your collar…” Qianya propped her chin with her left hand, thoughtful, like a cat watching rain.

“Xiaoxue, seriously?” My mouth twitched like a jumpy string; were my nicknames breeding like rabbits?

“Don’t mind it. Xiaoxue, don’t you have other questions? Like why I stopped you from answering that girl.” Questions buzzed around me like bees.

“Mm-hm!” I nodded hard, head bobbing like a buoy. “Oh right—and the bottle.”

Qianya swiped at nonexistent sweat, a gesture like wiping fog. “We’ll talk bottles later. First, about that little girl. Did you notice—while you gave her the juice—how many eyes were on you?”

“Uh…” Shame pricked like needles; I really hadn’t noticed.

“That girl’s sharper than you. She saw the crowd’s eyes pinning you like bugs and already spun up a fix.”

“Xiaoxue…” Her call fell like a snowflake.

“Can you not call me that? It makes me feel even more like a little girl… like being stuffed into child-sized shoes.”

“Oh? I only call people my age that…” Qianya had pegged her, and Qingsheng Tangxue stayed calm, a lake under wind; to Qianya, we were the same generation.

“Same age my foot! Counting from birth, I’m barely in my teens!” My words popped like a firecracker.

“Teens? I don’t buy it. Xiaoxue, you know the density of your magic—thick as honey. That’s not a child’s trick.”

“…Anyway, counting the years I remember, it’s never over thirty-five.” The years sat like beads on a string.

Qianya’s mouth hooked into a curious smile, thin as a crescent moon.

“What’s that look… like a fox peeking through bamboo?”

“It’s the look of seeing right through you, like sunlight through rice paper.”

“…Quit messing around!” My patience fluttered like a torn kite.

“Pfft~ Let me tease you in this last stretch~ after all, later I might not get the chance…” Her words drifted at dusk’s edge like melting snow.

“Don’t wear a face like you’re walking to your death… like a man to the gallows.”

Qianya tucked away the handkerchief I’d pulled, like folding a cloud. “Whether it’s dying or not, I’ll likely have to leave here for a while… Forget that. Back to the girl—she was angling to ask for more juice, you know?”

“So what? I’ve got plenty anyway, like a grove of oranges…”

“It’s not much, but—small favors breed thanks, big ones breed grudges… well, maybe this doesn’t reach that. She just wanted to use your hand to smooth a coming knot.”

“So many watching there, yet only those two got a bottle with a special kick—and they hadn’t finished it. After we leave, a bit of grabbing feels inevitable, like crows over crumbs, doesn’t it?”

“Heh… Her next plan was to ask you for more, which, in a way, shifts the friction. Whether you share or not, she and her mother won’t be the target of every arrow.”

“Honestly, a girl that much younger is sharper than you. Xiaoxue, just how dense are you—dense as a brick?”

“I’m not dense!” My retort snapped like a twig.

“Anyway, don’t fret about those two. The special juice is gone; even the thick-skinned, the well-fed and well-clothed, won’t stoop to bully two refugees.” Her certainty perched like a hawk on a high beam.

“I guess… she wanted to do that because she lacks a sense of safety…” Qianya said, lifting her gaze like raising a lantern.

“Hearing it like that, what kind of ‘little-girl’ IQ is that, hey! She’s just too clever, okay? It’s not me being dumb!” My indignation puffed like steam from a teapot.

“Alright, alright~ you’re not dumb.” The words slid off like oil.