I knew it—she’d never let me go, like a hawk locking onto a rabbit in snow.

I only called her an old hag a few times. She clings to grudges like frost on iron. Is your whole clan really that touchy about titles? Hah.

“You think I’m scared of you? Old hag who’s lived who-knows-how-long!” Tangxue’s voice snapped like icicles. She drew an ice sword to stiffen her spine.

The blue-haired woman flickered into the cramped room like a shadow slipping through a paper screen. Her face was calm as still water, yet anger rippled beneath, dark as storm tides.

Someone was poking the tiger again, tail high and brain off.

“Playing the silent master, huh? Hmph.”

Sword Art: Dance of the Cold Wind.

A vicious whirlwind tore the room apart like reeds in a typhoon—whoosh. Blades and winter air shredded furniture into confetti, like leaves in a blizzard. I didn’t have time to care; if I didn’t run now, I’d be nailed to the floor like a butterfly.

Let the wreckage be my smoke screen, I prayed, like fog hiding a fleeing deer.

Now—run!

Before her left leg crossed the doorframe, a familiar bubble snapped around her like glass on water.

“Oh come on, not this again!” Tangxue’s cry cracked like thin ice.

For years, that someone had trapped Tangxue with this trick a dozen times, as reliable as tides. Only absolute strength broke the bubble, a fortress of dew—exactly the kind she didn’t have to spare.

In raw power, she couldn’t match this woman, like a sparrow against a goshawk.

“As expected…” The City Lord’s face darkened like clouds piling before rain. He’d hoped she wasn’t with the merfolk. The bubble popped that hope like a dandelion.

“Don’t look at me like that. I won’t go back on what I promised.” The blue-haired woman’s gaze pinned Tangxue like a needle through silk, yet her words drifted to the City Lord like smoke.

“If you truly can kill her, you won’t be stopped. The Flower of the Other Shore isn’t a gentle sect, but it won’t break a contract, like steel that refuses to bend.”

“As long as you don’t violate the pact, we won’t overstep, like stones that stay in their riverbed.” She held the City Lord’s gaze, deep as a mountain lake.

“What pact? What are you talking about?” Tangxue’s confusion bobbed like a cork on waves.

“Don’t ask what you shouldn’t.” The woman’s glare cut like a cold blade.

By the way, she wore human form now, like a serpent wrapped in silk.

“Then what can I ask? Your name?” Tangxue’s impatience fluttered like a trapped moth.

“Mm. That you can.”

“I’ll think… my name… my name is…” The woman frowned, lines fine as brushstrokes. “I remember now. I think I’m Qing Feng Yuelian.”

“Age dulls memory, like winter dulling scent.”

How old even are you? Everyone grumbled inside, snowballs of sarcasm rolling downhill.

You’re not Dreamsound’s ancestor, are you? Tangxue thought, tongue tied like a ribbon she wouldn’t untie.

“Time’s about up,” Tangxue whispered, a clock’s breath against glass.

“Still struggling for nothing?” Yuelian’s voice was soft as falling ash. “I acknowledge your skill, but you’re only a few years into life. Breaking my bind won’t be easy, like swimming upstream into knives.”

“That’s what you think!”

I know this cursed skill inside out, like walking the same alley every night.

Tangxue touched the bubble with her jade-smooth forefinger, light as a dragonfly on a pond.

Countercurrent Art, Severing Flow Slash!

Now.

Her gaze sharpened like a drawn blade. She caught the bubble at its weakest, a thin membrane trembling like dawn frost. She thrust with a spear art and burst free, a geyser splitting stone.

“Old, old hag, I’m done playing! Bleh~ You can’t catch me now. Never seeing you again!”

“Old, old hag…” Qing Feng Yuelian’s exasperation lined her face like ink on rice paper. “I may lack the right to punish you now, but as an elder I can still teach you manners, like setting a crooked sapling straight.”

“Then try me!” Qingsheng Tangxue had the temperament of a mad dog, teeth like clamped iron. Once she bit, she wouldn’t let go, even if blood ran like rain. Back in the abyssal sea, Dreamsound had needed time to tame her; fights felt like duels to the death, waves devouring the shore.

If this woman wanted a fight, Tangxue would oblige, like flint answering steel.

She was weaker, but all-out she could make Yuelian pay in blood, a wolf leaving claw marks.

She could always make a bigger scene and draw Dreamsound here, like beacon fire on a tower. Better that than letting the Flower of the Other Shore linger in Starfate City, like smoke poisoning a valley.

Every minute they stayed, the city’s people lived under a blade, thin as moonlight yet sharp as grief.

With Dreamsound, she could plead and coax, a cat rubbing a sleeve. With this woman, Tangxue couldn’t play cute; her claws showed like snow thorns.

“I’ve got one sword! But—”

“That’s enough.” Qing Feng Yuelian closed her eyes, lashes falling like shutters. Tangxue jolted like a struck wire, body folding to a half-kneel in midair, a kite pinned by lightning.

“I’ve humored you long enough. What comes next—remember, you’re still the lead actor, the lantern at center stage. For now, rest.”

Tangxue’s pupils faded, a candle guttering. She dropped like a puppet with strings cut, wood against floor, pain a dull drum.

From that height, the fall looked painful, like hailstones thudding on tiles.

Qing Feng Yuelian wavered, pity thin as mist. She drew a miniature white, claw-shaped cage, delicate as a spider’s trap.

“Lock her in this cage. It will mute her divine power, like sealing wind in a jar. Do whatever comes next. But don’t endanger her life—if she’s even a breath from death, you’ll die here, bodies falling like withered petals.”

Even if I won’t do it with my own hands.

“This isn’t in the contract. Take it as kindness, like tea offered at the door. Remember—if the Flower of the Other Shore keeps the pact, don’t you break it. Otherwise, you won’t even have the right to die.” Yuelian’s glance slid over them, cold as moonlight on steel. She tossed the cage to the floor; it swelled to fit Tangxue, a shell around a pearl. Then she walked out of the ruined room, steps as soft as snowfall.

“Gone at last?” Edgar exhaled, relief fogging like breath in winter.

“That woman’s terrifying, a mountain under night. I didn’t expect even that little hussy to be this strong, a thorn with poison. From her aura, she wasn’t fighting full-out; last time against her, she hid more blades behind sleeves. Tch. I hate it, but she’s stronger than me, like a river stronger than a reed.”

Fan Chen kept silent, his expression layered like cloud banks. No one knew where his thoughts flowed.

“Let’s go, City Lord. Do what you’ve wanted all these years. I can’t wait.” Edgar’s grin shone like a knife’s edge. “Thinking of that woman finally losing her cool—ha, it thrills me. Vinoena Qianya, this time… let’s see how you fight me! Hahaha!”

“I’ve waited for this moment for so many years,” the City Lord murmured to the sky, blue as porcelain. “Yet at its edge, why is my heart so calm, like a lake before a storm?”

They finished preparing. They tossed limp Tangxue into the cage like trash thrown to the gutter. They stowed the cage in their storage space, a pocket like night. Then they walked toward the City Lord’s manor, steps steady as drums.