By the time Tangxue woke, night had fallen like a velvet curtain.

“Mm… what time is it, Meng… why didn’t you wake me…”

She hated the floor—flat and hard like a grave slab, dredging up old shadows; even asleep, her brows pinched like a knot of thorns.

The stone bit into her bones, made her twitchy; only after rolling and finding a soft pillow like a little cloud in her arms did she settle.

But Qianyue got jolted awake by Tangxue’s fidgeting, like a sparrow startled off a branch.

Tangxue slept messy—hence the need for a body pillow to keep the storm contained.

Or, get mistaken for the pillow and pinned by the tide.

Still, being wrapped in big sis’s arms felt warm as soft jade; that weight and warmth tugged up the memory of her mother, who used to hold her just so, coaxing sleep like a lullaby of spring rain.

It’s just… sis’s sleep posture is a disaster.

Qianyue wanted to roll and pin her, to hold her still like a rock under flowing water.

This wasn’t empty talk; if Qianyue wished, she could do it any time—Vampires had strength coiled like steel under silk.

But she didn’t dare; fear fluttered like a moth around a candle, and the small yet strong Qianyue only turned gently, trying not to suffocate under the snow-soft weight.

“Mm~” Tangxue frowned at the tiny movement. “Old crone Meng! You’re using your hair again—!”

“Ah? Qianyue, good evening~”

She glanced down, then looked away, face hot as ember under frost; their position was awkward as tangled vines. Her hand had drifted somewhere it shouldn’t, her full thighs draped over Qianyue’s small frame, and Qianyue was quietly inching aside like a fish slipping from a net…

“Sis…” Qianyue shot her a plaintive look, moonlit and wounded.

“I fell asleep. I know nothing about anything!”

Watching her sister bolt away in shame, Qianyue’s lips quirked; wasn’t that a pants-on-and-pretend-it-never-happened moment?

Once they’d straightened up, Tangxue took Qianyue’s left hand, and the two stepped into the ice—prisms rising like frozen spears.

Inside looked just like Qianyue’s mental space from before: white, transparent prisms like a forest of crystal. No entrance and no exit; the minute they entered, retreat vanished like footprints under snow.

“Qianyue, hold my right hand and don’t let go. It’s easy to lose your way in here. If you let your guard down, this place sings you to sleep.”

“…Sis, you seem familiar with this?” Qianyue’s eyes lifted, wary as a cat under rain.

“Not familiar… just used to it,” Tangxue said, voice flat as quiet ice. “In my memory, I wandered in here for a long time. When I got tired, I slept in the cold like a fox under winter brush. I don’t know how many years. I remember walking and walking, then suddenly falling into a forest. Linyue Yao’s mother picked me up…”

Her words frayed; pain speared her temple like a breaking icicle.

“Are you alright, sis?” Qianyue stepped in, shoulders steady as a small tree in wind, letting Tangxue lean on her right shoulder.

“Don’t cry, pain fly away~” Qianyue smoothed Tangxue’s brow, voice soft as warm milk.

“…”

Tangxue shivered and forced calm, the chaos in her head roaring like a blizzard she couldn’t stop.

“Left left left left… right…”

“…Sis?”

“I remember the path,” Tangxue murmured, standing from Qianyue’s arms as if nothing had happened, face cool as a lake under dawn.

“Qianyue, if we stay here, our temperature drops like frost on stone. We have to leave fast. I’ll manage, but you can’t stay in this chill long.”

She took Qianyue’s right hand, ignoring her puzzled look, and the two wove through prisms like fish through reeds, following Tangxue’s murmured pattern.

Strange… Qianyue thought, heart flickering. Sis said we’d grow colder in the ice, yet her hand burned like a coal under snow.

Not just her hand—her face too, warm as summer dusk.

“Mm…”

Tangxue suddenly sped up, feet whispering whoosh whoosh across glassy ground; they cut through prism after prism, like arrows through crystal rain.

Thankfully, this chamber wasn’t vast. Within minutes, they sprang out of the ice and landed before twin giant doors veined with frozen shards—rime blooming like white flowers.

Tangxue frowned; a ripple of familiarity, like déjà vu under moonlight.

“We’re in. This is the inside of the Vampire royal mausoleum.”

“Sis… you ran so fast.”

“Kids shouldn’t fuss over odd little things.” She shot Qianyue a glare sharp as a knife’s edge.

“The way ahead is the truly dangerous part. I remember lots of strange mechanisms. If you don’t want something taking a bite out of you, keep your spirit sharp like twelve lit torches.”

“…?”

For some reason, Qianyue’s expression held a hint of disdain, like a cat watching a mouse brag.

“Let’s keep moving.”

Tangxue scouted ahead, steps light as winter fox; Qianyue followed close, shadow to flame, and the two slipped through the door.

The Vampire mausoleum sprawled underground in a spiral like a coiled serpent. The nobler the Vampire, the deeper their tomb sank into the earth. This mausoleum wasn’t complete; they stood near the entrance, frost at the threshold.

Their destination was the lowest coil of the spiral, where something Tangxue wanted slept like a blade in the dark.

If her memory was right, that chamber belonged to the last generation Vampire King. A divine sword lay there, moon-cold and merciless, a blade that ignored the Blood Reservoir’s gift and killed a Vampire outright.

Among the Blood Clan, the sword meant kingship—yet its use was mercy in punishment. The royal line was hard to kill; even sentence meant lingering torture, because nothing ended quickly.

With that sword, one clean snick, and the Blood Reservoir’s regeneration went silent like a candle pinched out.

If the King deemed a crime unworthy of torment, they granted a swift release. The blade fell only on royals and nobles, a symbol of absolute authority, cold as winter law.

But… that sword wasn’t easy to take. Memory dragged like an anchor; Tangxue sighed, breath white in the air. If she had a choice, she wouldn’t return to this grave of ghosts.

Soon, they reached a fork with three paths, dark mouths like tunnels in a cliff.

“Qianyue, let’s take this one. I remember a lot of traps ahead…”

“Sis, go this way. No traps here~”

“…?”

“So you know a lot, Qian~yue?” Tangxue slipped behind and pinched her cheek, fingers cool as ice petals.

“Mm… Qianyue’s been here, okay…” she muttered, unhappy as a ruffled cat.

“…?”

“That side has a Blood Clan zombie. It only bites the living. The middle road’s packed with mechanisms—it spits fire like a dragon! The right…”

“????”