“So that’s what this was…” I tugged my turtleneck back into place, the collar still hot where Xuewei had yanked it like a leash in winter fog.

Just now, Snow Orchid tilted her face, eyes soft as spring water toward Xuewei. It wasn’t romance. Last time she used her scepter on the blood thralls, something misfired, and Xuewei caught her red-handed. Xuewei found a problem on her body; tonight Snow Orchid came to her, and the two were checking that odd sigil on her chest—cough, that strange mark over her heart.

“I swear, your little head is packed with nothing but spicy thoughts.” Xuewei sighed, a breeze through bamboo.

“No way! Anyone would think that after seeing that scene in their sleep.”

“…Tangxue, I think teacher’s right. You always think of weird things.” Snow Orchid’s voice wavered like a reed by a river.

Heat pricked under my skin first, then the thought formed: Am I really that kind of girl? No. I’ve been so restrained. Even living with Dreamsound, I never crossed any lines.

And if I ever did, she would just treat it like a kid’s pouting, ruffle my hair, and laugh it away like sunlight through gauze.

“Leave that for later. Tell me—what’s with the sigils on her chest and left hand? Are you two hiding something from your teacher? Hm?”

“Uh…” I shot Snow Orchid a look, but she kept her head down, like a bird tucking its beak into its wings.

Under Xuewei’s stare, sharp as needles in frost, I caved fast. I told her everything—except the part about the Reaper.

“Not just that,” Xuewei said with a cold curve of her mouth, a moon sickle through cloud. “I don’t believe a little brat like you told it all. How much more are you hiding? Give me at least an outline.”

“That’s all… really.” I turned my head, voice small as candle flame.

Xuewei stepped in. Her fingers caught my chin and forced it over, like turning a stubborn compass.

She locked onto my golden eyes, voice silk over steel. “I don’t buy it. Not unless… you speak with your hand on your heart.”

“…”

I reached toward the left side of Xuewei’s chest, palm a slow leaf settling.

Mm. No barrier—her heartbeat was clear, a drum under snow.

“…”

“…What is it, Teacher Xuewei?” I blinked up at her. “My hand’s on your conscience now. I’ll just—”

“Eek! T-teacher, what are you— aaah! Not there, not— let me go— mm-ah!”

Afterward.

Ling Xuewei glanced at the girl sprawled on the bed, eyes dulled like rain-stained glass, then stroked her long hair with satisfied fingers, smooth as night.

“Heh. You could’ve confessed earlier. Making me act in front of others—how embarrassing.” Xuewei left with a smile, closing the door like a feather falling.

“…Ugh. Too much. Way too much.”

“Changed. Everything’s changed… My own sister feels like a stranger now.” The words snagged like thorns.

“No. I’m getting her back. I need payback… Right. I’ll go cut up all Xuewei’s little camisoles! Make her slap on band-aids tomorrow morning. Hmph.” My size wouldn’t fit her anyway.

I flipped over and sat up, pain flaring like firecrackers under snow.

“Ow… that hurts. Xuewei really went all in… My mom never even hit me.”

“Hmph. Little Xuewei, you think I don’t know your habits? I even know where you stash your underwear. Hehe…”

…

“Teacher Xuewei, um… is Tangxue okay?” Snow Orchid’s voice held worry, a tremor in a tea cup.

At first, seeing her best friend teased by the teacher, something sour rose in her chest. For a heartbeat she wanted to pull the teacher away and stand there herself. Now the memory bit her; what was she turning into?

Then, when Tangxue got dragged over and spanked, a thin strand of relief slipped through her mind. Her friend got hit so hard, and she felt… happy.

I’m getting weird…

“She’s fine. Just exhausted. I sent her to my room to sleep,” Xuewei said, calm as night rain.

“But… but isn’t that your room, Teacher?” Snow Orchid’s voice shrank like a shadow at dusk.

“Mm. Yes. Any problem?” Xuewei tipped her head, puzzled.

Snow Orchid opened her mouth, then closed it. Silence pooled like ink.

“About that scepter,” Xuewei said, tone grave as temple bells, “treat it carefully. Use it less if you can. That quasi–Divine Artifact is dangerous. It’s not a standard quasi— it’s a special one, downgraded from a full Divine Artifact. The side effects didn’t downgrade. It’s acknowledged you as its master, but you’re still too weak. You probably haven’t noticed…”

She hesitated, a pause like a held breath. “Your body’s already being subtly reshaped by it. It won’t kill you, but you might ‘die.’”

“Die?”

“Not exactly. Snow Orchid, have you heard of the ‘Flower of the Other Shore’?”

“Mm… Teacher, I learned about it from my elders.”

“In that cult, most people are living dead—caught between the living and the dead like mist between banks. Keep using that scepter, and you could become like that.”

“!”

“But don’t panic. You won’t turn into one of those lunatics. The weapon chose you; it won’t cloud your mind. At most… your skin gets paler, and sunlight hits you harder. Think of shade as your friend.”

“…”

“So, if you don’t want that, use the scepter less. To resist its pull, you need at least the ninth tier… at least.” Her words fell like stones in a well.

“…Thank you, Teacher. I understand.” Snow Orchid bowed her head, a willow bending.

“I’ll try my best not to use that power.”

“Good. And the fewer people who know, the better. Treasure invites trouble.” Xuewei’s gaze cooled like frost.

“…Teacher Xuewei and Tangxue said the same thing,” Snow Orchid thought, a quiet echo.

“If there’s nothing else, go rest. I need to sleep. There’s a meeting tomorrow.”

“Um… Teacher Xuewei, about Tangxue…”

“Her situation’s messy. Best you don’t meddle. Remember that Vampire who attacked Starfate City? Qingsheng Tangxue made an enemy there.” Qianya hesitated, then added, “I’m worried about retaliation. That’s why she’s staying with me for now.”

…But last week, Teacher, you already had Tangxue living at your place…

Seeing Snow Orchid still lingering, Xuewei felt an itch under her skin. She hated anyone wedging in between her and her.

“Student Snow Orchid, anything else?”

“No, Teacher. Then… goodbye.”

“Mm.”

Phew. She finally left. Time to check on that little brat.