“Qianyue, who are you, really?” Tangxue’s voice skimmed like a cold breeze over still water.

Tangxue drew in her expression, frost settling on her features, and looked sideways at Qianyue.

“Eh?? Qianyue… Qianyue is just Qianyue, big sister. What’s wrong?” Her words chimed like little courtyard bells.

“Then why do you know so much? My memories of this place were mist on a lake, never this clear.”

“It just… surged up all of a sudden.” Qianyue scratched her head, shy as a sparrow under eaves. “Like with you just now—memories flooded my mind, and everything here felt familiar. Like I used to live here—every corner feels like an old lane to me.”

She darted around with light steps, like a child racing home through sunlit alleys.

“…”

‘Clever, Qianyue… you used me as your example; my tongue’s tied like a red cord.’

“Do you know if there are any traps inside? Honestly, I want to see that Blood Clan zombie you mentioned.”

“You want to go in? Sure~ That zombie won’t attack people. With Qianyue beside you, it’ll be calm as a pond.”

“Then we’ll take this path… Don’t sprint ahead, Qianyue. The wind can hide thorns.”

“Come on, big sister~ There’s only one zombie in here, and no traps like you said.” Qianyue lifted into the air like a dragonfly and waved down to Tangxue.

“Watch…”

“…the path.”

Tangxue followed, silent as a stone under rain.

The passage was just as Qianyue said: no gears, no teeth in the floor. Yet the deeper they walked, the hollowness widened like a dry well—there was… nothing.

Tangxue scratched her head. In the vast chamber, a single ornate coffin rested like a lacquered boat, already pried open. In that sea of space, she sensed no third breath of life.

“Qianyue, did you misremember?”

“No way… how could that be?” Qianyue dropped down, urgency fluttering like a trapped moth. She reached the coffin and saw splintered wood—its shell had been broken.

“Sis… the zombie ran away.” Her eyes welled, two clear ponds in dusk.

“...Qianyue, do you remember what it looked like?”

“Qianyue never saw the zombie’s face…” She lowered her head, shy as willow shade. “I remember the tomb had only bodies besides me. Only this room was different… because the coffin moved. So I thought there was a zombie inside.”

A chill pricked Tangxue’s spine like rain on iron.

“Right, Qianyue—could it speak?”

“It could~ It asked Qianyue to help open the coffin! But I didn’t, because I knew that was wrong. So each time it called, I pressed it down with stones from the side.”

She pantomimed, flicking a pebble; it clicked against wood like a sparrow knocking.

“…”

“Also, sis, that zombie—”

“Stop, stop. I think I know who he is.” Tangxue covered her forehead, a weary tide washing in. “Let’s go. There’s no reason to linger in this cold room.”

“But sis, didn’t you say there was something you needed here?”

“There’s nothing here…” Tangxue spread her hands, a helpless reed in the wind. “Look—besides the murals…”

She studied the walls; color and lines flowed like old river maps, and interest rose like dawn light.

“Qianyue, can you read these murals?”

“I can, sis.”

“Great. Can you tell me what they say? I’m curious.”

“Mm~” Qianyue nodded, obedient as a small lamp, and drifted to the mural with Tangxue.

“Let’s start from the very first panel. My neat-freak side is scratching like cats.”

They circled half the chamber to the first mural, footsteps tapping like rain beads on stone.

About an hour later, they had toured them all. Qianyue slumped against the wall, breath a soft cloud, while Tangxue fell into thought as deep as a well.

This place… no, not truly a tomb. It was the seal of the Vampire Blood Clan’s seventy-second King’s seventh son—Edgar. The name lay on stone like a carved sigil.

Edgar was the youngest, a restless spark that burned the curtains. His gift was the dimmest among the King’s heirs; even his father’s gaze was winter on him. As a youth he was a prince adrift, a reed in idle water. At a Blood Clan convocation, he committed a sin no one would forgive, and his own mother sealed him here with hands like iron snow.

The murals sang that tale over and over: Edgar’s living days were a trail of broken cups and bruised faces. His dealings were a chaos of spilled ink. His brothers loathed him like smoke in the eyes, and at last he was sealed—permanently, they said.

But… was the seal truly forever? If so, how did he slip the bars like a shadow?

Maybe the murals weren’t the whole sky.

“Qianyue, if you’ve rested, let’s go.”

“Mm~”

Tangxue stood and walked toward the mouth of the chamber, her steps steady, like oars cutting evening water.

“I’m getting interested in these murals, Qianyue. Let’s check the next tomb.”

“Ah???” Qianyue stared, her little face crumpling like paper—reluctance fluttered like a moth.

“Is there a problem, Qianyue?” Tangxue glanced back, her look a lantern under night wind.

“No…” Qianyue forced a smile, then drifted to Tangxue’s side like a petal on a stream.

Since entering here, Qianyue felt her power rising, a tide under the moon—maybe it was the taste of her own blood, too.

‘Qianyue doesn’t want more murals; they’re heavy as mountains… but if sis needs it, Qianyue will hold on.’

She drew a quiet breath, a little ember of resolve, and floated closer.

“What’s wrong, Qianyue? Why so suddenly?”

“Nothing~ I just wanted to be closer to sis. Ehe~” Her laugh was a silver bell.

“You’re just like my little sister.” Tangxue sighed, a reed bending.

“? Qianyue is sis’s little sister~”

“That’s not what I mean.” She shook her head, thoughts rippling like fish. “You remind me of someone.”

“She’s my sister, but she’s human.”

“Human… but sis, aren’t you—”

“I know I’m a mermaid. You don’t have to point at my tail.” Tangxue waved, wry as winter sun. “My identity’s a tangled net. It’s hard to lay it out at once. If we get a chance later, you’ll meet my sister.”

“Mm…”

You will.

“Right, Qianyue—where do we go next? I know the rough direction, but not the exact rooms. Do you know?”

“Qianyue knows~ If sis wants, Qianyue will take you into each, one by one.”

“You seem distracted, Qianyue.”

“Nope~” She gave Tangxue a reassuring smile, bright as a paper lantern.