Qingyu Mengyin brushed Qing Feng Yuelian’s sleeve; the touch rippled like a pebble dropped into a still pond, and what she knew flowed wordless from mind to mind.

Between them, speech was a slow oar; their thoughts were swallows skimming a lake.

"...So that’s how it is. Honestly, I’m tempted. If Tangxue really has that kind of power, I’d like her to—"

"Absolutely not! If you do that, she... she won’t behave anymore..." The protest came hot, like steam off a kettle.

"Don’t worry. I won’t." Qing Feng Yuelian smiled wryly, the curve of her lips thin as a moon-slice. "I chose this road back then. I won’t drag our people in. Not ever."

Qing Feng Yuelian was Dreamsound’s mother’s younger sister, one of only two royals who survived that clan’s extinction; her face mirrored Dreamsound’s like twin reflections on a river.

Back then, she chose a different path from Dreamsound, a thorned trail she’d carry alone like a mountain on her back.

Everything she did was to let the remnants live quietly, like reeds hidden along a bank… and to make those complacent bastards taste how death feels when it presses down like winter ice. So she joined the Flower of the Other Shore.

Now, most of what she did was for herself, a coal burning in her own ribs.

"Leave it to me… She’s my daughter. I know her—well enough!" Dreamsound’s voice held a bright, brittle confidence, like glass in sun.

"..." Qing Feng Yuelian shot Dreamsound a look; silence like a flat sea.

With Dreamsound, this lovable fool, she really didn’t hold much hope; the thought sagged like a wet banner.

"Careful!" A dark blade hissed past, winter-cold, nearly kissing Qing Feng Yuelian’s throat.

"Looks like your little Shengsheng’s aim is crystal clear." The words fell like sleet.

"If I don’t let her cut me a few times, she’ll never cool down, will she?" Qing Feng Yuelian’s laugh was helpless, a lantern in fog.

"...Aunt, I’ll protect you." Dreamsound’s voice trembled like a plucked string. "Whether it’s Shengsheng or you… I don’t want either of you hurt."

Suddenly, Qing Feng Yuelian felt a chill in her bones; she shoved Dreamsound away, hard as a gust off the sea.

"Ungh…!" The air shivered; her water wards rose like a glass tide and took the hit, but pain still bit deep, a hook in flesh.

Tangxue stepped into Qing Feng Yuelian’s shadow; her tone came cold as frost over a well. "Hiding behind others every day—this is how you ‘protect’ family? Ridiculous. Draw your scythe. Don’t make me despise you."

"The aura on you… it’s thickening like stormclouds," Qing Feng Yuelian said, eyes narrowing to spearpoints. "Fine. If you want to fight me that badly, then come."

She steadied her breath; the scythe bloomed in her hand like a black crescent, her gaze sharp with battle-fire.

Just now, something had clicked: this fool Dreamsound wanted to take the blow for her. With that soft, silly head, of course she did—only that.

If that’s the way of it, better to let Tangxue kill everyone else who’s coming.

A world where only outsiders bleed—that would do.

How lovely.

She was thinking that when the scene before her tightened her pupils like a noose.

The girl’s eyes were ocean-blue shot through with red fire; even with someone between them, they stabbed like sunlight on ice. The rapier lanced past Qing Feng Yuelian’s right ribs, a breath from killing.

Qing Feng Yuelian was still a step too slow; the tide had already broken.

"What are you… doing?" The question fell from Tangxue’s lips, flat as ash.

"Me…? Ah. Shengsheng, you know I’m a fool," Dreamsound said, voice thin as rain. "This was the only way I could think of… I don’t want you two to keep fighting. Please… The wrongs my aunt committed—can I… carry some of them for her?" She looked merely drained, like a candle guttering; the hole a rapier punched through her belly showed little flesh torn, yet her aura dimmed worse than when Edgar clawed her.

Tangxue didn’t answer her. Head bowed, she stared at the sword in her hand and muttered like a lost child in a snowstorm. "What… am I doing? Revenge—yes, I’m taking revenge. Because that woman… hurt the person… most important… to me, so… I’m avenging her… Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable… But… Dreamsound is important too… so important, mm… I… hurt… her? I… am… unforgivable…"

"No! Silly girl." Dreamsound’s smile wavered like a trembling flame. "Shengsheng, whatever you do to me, I won’t be angry. So it’s not unforgivable. Everyone makes mistakes. Give yourself more chances. Don’t cry…"

"…Unforgivable…" Tangxue’s breath hitched; then a laugh cracked through the tears, a thaw turning to flood. "Unforgivable, right. How could I forgive someone like that."

Qingsheng Tangxue cried and laughed, and the air warped around her like heat over desert stone. In a blink, Dreamsound’s body flickered, flung to another quadrant, while Qing Feng Yuelian was shoved back, distance opening like a ravine.

The girl lifted her right hand and gripped the sword that hung in the air like a sliver of winter moon.

"Looks like you won’t let go unless you land this one cut," Qing Feng Yuelian murmured, voice soft as falling snow.

"In that case, come." She spread her arms as if giving herself to the tide. "I won’t raise any guard for the next strike. If you want me dead, seize it. A mermaid’s life… is a tough shell to crack."

Tangxue raised her head; her ruined eyes, worse than broken glass, locked on Qing Feng Yuelian without a word.

She only lifted her right hand higher, fingers tight on the hilt, as if clutching a lightning rod.

"Sky-Sunder…"

"Don’t!!!" Dreamsound’s voice tore in from not far off, sharp as a gull’s cry over black water.

At that cry, Tangxue’s sword hand shivered, a leaf in wind.

Dreamsound clutched the wound that wouldn’t knit, sprinting like a ghost across ice; still… she was too late.

The ending stroke fell like a guillotine moon; Qing Feng Yuelian was cut at the waist, and with her, a host of blurry mountain-shadows behind her split like paper scenery.

Tangxue lowered her head. Silence pooled around her like night tide.

"...Is that good enough?" Qing Feng Yuelian hooked an arm under her own lower half, holding herself together in a grim, absurd pantomime; her expression twisted, half grimace, half smile.

"Then… it’s my turn, isn’t it?" Tangxue gave a small, self-mocking smile, gripping the hilt till her knuckles whitened like bones.

"If you can’t do it, Master, I can." A girl with a white side ponytail stepped out of thin air before Qingsheng Tangxue, her arrival crisp as frost. She ignored the shock in Tangxue’s eyes, and brought a knifehand down on her head.

Hell-Funeral Knifehand!

"Ugh…!" One small cry, and Tangxue crumpled into sleep like a blown-out lantern.

Frostwhisper caught the slight body and held it close, palm gentle as falling petals as she stroked the swelling knot on the girl’s brow.

"Well done," Frostwhisper murmured, fingers combing like cool rain. "I thought she’d at least wreck this whole city before you stopped her. You two worked hard. You drove her into an emotional cave-in, and nearly—no, already—sealed away almost half her self. Even if Master wakes up, she won’t remember much, will she?"

"...Frostwhisper, do you still recognize me?" Dreamsound drifted over, one hand pressed to her belly; her approach was slow, like a wounded swan crossing dusk water.

Frostwhisper glanced at her, eyes pale as hoarfrost. "…Back more than ten years ago, that should’ve been our first meeting."

"I see." Dreamsound smiled bitterly, the curve wan and thin as mist.

"The rest, handle yourselves," Frostwhisper said, voice quiet as snow that smothers sound. "If you let Master be hurt like this again, I’ll be very happy to watch this world end with my own eyes."