"Asleep... Weird, the blanket’s tucked up neat, like a tide drawn over sand. Whatever—maybe she’s just dead tired."

"I’ll shower first..."

Half an hour later, fresh from the shower, Xuewei wears only a towel. Her wet hair coils down her back like a dark river. She eases the door open like a held breath, checks the little one on the bed, then slips in soft as a shadow.

"Honestly... a few minutes and the blanket’s a mess again." Xuewei presses her fingers to her brow, a sigh cool as night rain. "Kids catch cold like this..."

'Wait, when did she change into pajamas?... Ugh, this brat.'

She smooths the covers until they lie like a calm lake, then steams the water from her hair with magic. Her hair falls in a satin cascade down her back. It might snag in sleep, but drifting loose feels right.

"Tonight... I’ll let you off," she whispers, voice gentle as snow.

She throws on a random pajama top and slides into bed. Practiced hands find the blue‑haired girl’s arm, and her right leg drapes over her like a warm branch.

Pinned, Tangxue frowns, a complaint like a puff of wind. She wriggles, feels the hold like stone, and goes quiet.

Xuewei feels the tiny thing surrender after a heartbeat of resistance. Her smile rises like a small sunrise.

You have to hug her like a body pillow, tight as a knot, or she’ll kick the covers to the moon again...

...

Morning. The sun lifts a thin blade of gold, and Xuewei is already up. Dawn has been her rhythm for ten years. Even with perfect sleep, her body clock wakes with the light.

Reluctant, she pinches the girl’s cheek, soft as a peach. Her feelings for this girl are a tangled forest.

In the past ten days, by watching again and again, she found the little blue‑haired girl’s habits mirror her heartless older brother almost exactly. Maybe they’re father and daughter—teachings echo like footprints—yet the resemblance lands like a seal.

What settled it was the duel with the Vampire. She arrived late, but her brother’s scent hung in the air like ember smoke. That wasn’t the Queen of the Blood’s power. Even the purest mana carries the host’s mark, a trace like a fingerprint; look close and you see it.

When Vinoena Qianya, the Queen of the Blood, visited last time, Xuewei read her mana like moonlight in water. Not a shred matched her brother’s.

Everyone’s mana scent is unique, a print beneath the skin, so she could be sure: the girl whose every move echoes her brother is her brother.

Why he became like this... she has no answer.

The soul pendant still flickers like a firefly. That means he never died, and rebirth is off the table.

So Xuewei suspects that venomous woman beneath the sea used a forbidden curse to twist her brother into this shape. His refusal to confess must tie back to that woman too.

These days she’s scoured the plane for Merfolk ruins—sand‑stained stones and drowned halls—all for this. If it’s a forbidden curse, her people’s ancient ruins might hold a thread to unwind...

Once she finds a way to break it, her brother can live with her again. No more bowing to that woman under the waves; she can’t rise to the surface anyway.

Though... this isn’t bad either. She gets to hold her brother every night, watch her grow like a sapling. As long as she stays by her side, strangers won’t get close. Her brother will grow the way she wants. Maybe... that’s not so bad?

Damn, I’m getting conflicted.

But only a little. The real choice was set the moment she chose to hunt the ruins. She doesn’t change course on a stray thought.

Time to get up... or this little rascal will wake and start yelling again.

Xuewei reluctantly lets go of the girl and heads for the wardrobe, eyes skimming fabrics like waves over stones.

"..."

What... is this?

Where’s my underwear? Why is every piece gone? Thinking back to the girl’s odd moves last night, Xuewei grits her teeth till sparks fly.

"Get up! You little cow!!"

...

"This trip isn’t secret, but the fewer who know, the better," Xuewei says, voice cool as morning dew.

"Mm..." comes a limp reply from behind.

"And the meeting’s important. We need to be there before noon, or we’ll miss lunch."

"Mm..."

Xuewei cuts a look at Qingsheng Tangxue, head bowed like a wilted flower. "Also, are the shreds of underwear under my bed your handiwork?"

"Mm... mm!? No! Not me!"

Who else, then?!

Xuewei swallows the urge to drum a war beat on her waist and keeps steady. "Things go better when you tell the truth."

"Uu... okay... I—I only cut one type... didn’t touch the rest... and it’s not just under the bed... there’re some under the flowerpots..."

"Uh, a little under the window too..."

"You tossed some out the window?!"

"I—I... I didn’t..." Tangxue’s voice shakes like a leaf.

"Keep going!"

"A‑and... in the garden outside there are some... because... there were just too many little bralettes..."

How could there not be? That size hasn’t changed since forever.

Finally, something Xuewei had been holding tight snapped like an overstretched string.

Iconic scene, replayed.

...

"Packed?" Xuewei glances at the shrunken Tangxue huddled to one side.

"P‑packed..."

"Then let’s move—wait, why bring so much?" She stares at a backpack half her height, headache rumbling like thunder.

They’re going to a meeting, not a holiday!

"Eh? Not allowed? Most of it’s food..."

"..."

Xuewei blinks, then sighs, a cloud collapsing. "Bring it if you want. We’ll be back in under a day anyway."

"Oh." The girl’s voice bubbles like spring water.

Funny—she was bawling her eyes out minutes ago.

After that mess, Xuewei’s mood dives like a stone. She’s so mad she put in bra pads, stacked three layers!

She’s always hated padding—fake things taste bitter—but she’s fuming now, ready to explode. She needs a punching bag, badly.

So she decides: if anyone at the meeting dares mock her padded chest, she’ll beat them senseless.

"That Queen of the Blood—has she left?"

"Teacher, you mean Qianya? She said she left last night."

"... Figures she slipped away now. I wanted to ask about those ruins..."

"Gear up. The meeting spot isn’t close, and... we might bump into a few old faces~" Xuewei adds, eyeing Qingsheng Tangxue with playful frost.

"..."

After breakfast, the two of us slip out of Starfate City like smoke. Xuewei says it’s to avoid panic; she didn’t even notify the academy staff. Since there’s a precedent, she must’ve dragged that idiot Fangzhe back, smacked him around, and made him stay at the academy. He looks unreliable, sure, but his strength isn’t in doubt. If he’d been there last time, that Vampire never would’ve broken in.

When we return next time... maybe nothing bad will happen.

——

In a shadowed pocket of the forest, two hooded figures stroll like drifting ash. The hands that slip from their sleeves are pale as wax.

"My lord, I still don’t understand... why did you spare that Vampire last time?"

"Black Wolf, you’re thinking too small. His aura and strength brushed god‑tier, like a storm on the horizon, but the fool burned too much of the Blood Reservoir to keep his bloodburn. His core never reached godhood. His stupidest move was trying to use that borrowed power to devour the Queen of the Blood and the little princess of the Merfolk at once."

"If he’d swallowed the Queen of the Blood first, he wouldn’t have ended like that..."

"A pity... and we even spent our timing to clear his Queen‑of‑the‑Blood problem."

"Trash stays trash. No wonder his father despised him back then." The hooded man shakes his head like a withered reed. "Lucky for us he’s trash. Seizing a Vampire royal house wouldn’t be so easy otherwise."

Months ago, the upper ranks of Flower of the Other Shore made a deal with the Queen of the Blood. They traded the location of Edgar Warren’s seal, and in return she gave a promise.

They knew Vinoena Qianya could never match the Vampire King’s house, so from the start they played both roads. When Vinoena Qianya fled, they reached out to Edgar and struck an agreement: once the Blood Clan returned to his rule, Flower of the Other Shore would become the state religion of the Duskmoon Empire.

After that, many high‑ranking Blood Clan defected, and Edgar wiped out much of Vinoena Qianya’s loyalists—with heavy thanks to Flower of the Other Shore.

Back when Edgar Warren was sealed, a ninth‑tier curse‑weaver from Flower of the Other Shore had already laid a death curse on him. Casting a curse through the seal itself—only that ninth‑tier could do it.

Poor Edgar Warren. From the moment he stepped out, his path was carved like tracks in ice, and he had no idea.

"For now... we wait. Once that fool finishes this round, you’ll deliver his next ‘upgrade.’"

"Understood, my lord. I’ll take my leave."

Black Wolf bows, then vanishes like smoke.

"... Heh. Years ago you burned my home, drove me from my land, split my kin like broken branches... Soon, you’ll taste ruin yourselves."

From beneath the hood, golden eyes glimmer like a demon in hellfire, enough to freeze the spine.