Hum... hum~ hum~. In the garden under the deep sea, a flawless woman hummed as she trimmed swaying sea-flowers, bubbles rising like silver beads.
Her long blue hair fell to her ankles like a waterfall; her full chest moved with her rhythm like gentle tides; in her pretty eyes, tiny stars flickered; a crescent-soft smile rested on her delicate cheeks.
It’s been a while since I cut my hair. It’s gotten so long... Qingyu Mengyin sighed, then tied the river of blue into a single ponytail that draped across her chest like a silk ribbon.
Back already...? Joy burst first like sun through water; she set down the scissors and swam toward the big house, trailing pearly bubbles.
From the instant Tangxue fell, Qingyu Mengyin felt her aura, a warm ripple through the current. With a single thought, she pulled Tangxue home, like a thread tugging a shell to its shore.
Seeing the familiar room, Tangxue felt like she’d slipped back into schooldays; drowsiness rolled in like dusk tide.
Wandering the Duskmoon Empire lately had been barely humanly bearable. No food you could stomach, and the sleeping spots were cold (no one to warm the bed) and hard (physically), like stone under frost.
Touching the warm, familiar bed, Tangxue melted; she sprawled, her eyes narrowing in comfort, like a cat on a sunlit sill.
Sleep wrapped her like soft clouds; in under a second, dreams tugged her down like a gentle current.
She fell asleep the instant she touched the bed. Little Tangxue, what did you go through? Qingyu Mengyin’s heart ached first like a pulled string; she rubbed Tangxue’s cheeks, perfect softness lighting a hearth deep in her chest.
She should let Tangxue rest—yet why wouldn’t her hand obey? The thought frayed like a net.
Even as she scolded herself, a wave of pleasure rippled inside, warm as spring water. Stroking someone else’s cheek felt a hundred times better than stroking her own, like silk against skin instead of rough linen.
Night drifted in. Tangxue woke hungry—no, nauseated; in the dream, a Goblin had dragged her into its den and licked her face, clammy as slug slime.
Her eyes snapped open. Eek...!
She saw the most familiar person, and fear jumped like a startled fish; she shrank toward the bed’s corner, small as a curled shrimp.
You you you you...
Eh-heh~?
Tangxue almost asked why she was here—then remembered. She was home. Mengyin being here was as natural as tides.
Little Tangxue, your face looked awful just now, and you kept your eyes squeezed shut while sleeping. Was it a nightmare? Mengyin’s worry rose like a clouded moon.
Mm. Tangxue nodded. I dreamed a Goblin was licking my face.
Mengyin gave an awkward laugh, then shifted the stream. Right, little Tangxue, did you finish your business?
No. Tangxue shook her head. Crossing just the Duskmoon Empire took me over a month... I got lost halfway, like a boat in fog.
Pfft~ yeah. I remember you only wrote me a few letters the whole time.
... She’d forgotten, and the silence felt like sand in the mouth.
Forget it. Are you hungry? Want Mom to cook?
I’m starving to death! Tangxue pouted, aggrieved like a hungry sparrow. The Duskmoon Empire has nothing edible. The beasts there reek of blood! Ptoo, ptoo, ptoo...
A soft smile touched the corners of Qingyu Mengyin’s mouth; she listened in quiet, like a lake holding rain, then let Tangxue lean against her chest to rest, warm as a quilt.
Alright, alright... I’ll make you lots of good food later. Since you’re back, rest a few days.
Mm... Tangxue lay against her mother, greedily breathing that sweet scent, like honey in spring air.
Watching Tangxue nestled in her arms, a mischievous thought flashed through Mengyin’s mind like a darting fish.
Ah-la~ how come little Tangxue loves Mom’s chest so much now? Before, I had to hold you tight to get you like this. Now you’re the one leaning in?
Because I’ll leave again in a few days... so I want to lie here a bit longer.
...Huh?
Mengyin froze, a blank beat like a dropped note.
Why?! You just came home—why leave again?! The protest burst like a wave hitting rock.
Tangxue stayed tucked in, then spoke in a coaxing tone, soft as velvet. ...I’m so hungry, Mom. Cook first. I’ll tell you after I’m full.
Her small belly joined in with a grumble, a drumbeat she couldn’t ignore. Words fell away like scattered shells.
Okay. Mengyin bit her lip and held back tears, salt at the edge of her eyes like brine. She rose, tucked the quilt around Tangxue like a cloud, gave her one reluctant look, and drifted toward the kitchen.
When Qingyu Mengyin had fully gone, Tangxue slowly rolled onto her back, like a fish easing over in calm water.
She stared at the familiar ceiling and blew a few lazy bubbles, thoughts drifting upward like them, light and fragile.
Who am I? What did the forgotten past hold? Where did I go?
She’d thought she might’ve been in the Duskmoon Empire long ago, tied somehow to Vampires or Blood Elves. Sometimes blood-scented food didn’t bother her, and the Blood Clan’s buildings felt familiar, like old stone she’d touched before.
But these recent days felt fresh as first snow. So many things were firsts, with no echo of familiarity, and the Duskmoon Empire’s histories held no trace of her—no name, no shadow.
So where did my past go? The question spun like a leaf in a whirlpool.
She couldn’t have wandered a forest for thousands of years, right? That would be a lonely wind through endless trees.
Her memories of the forest, roughly counted, were less than a hundred years, dew that evaporates at dawn. So much had slipped away.
Even the last few decades felt blurred, like ink washed by rain.
Will I one day forget her too? The thought hurt like a thorn under skin.
And then become again a child under five in mind, knowing only to destroy and eat, a feral creature pulled by hunger?
What kind of fate is that... The sigh fell like ash.
Tangxue let the thoughts go; she closed her eyes and lay flat on the soft bed, a quiet cloudbank.
In a few days, I’ll go to the Beastkin country. I need to find that Beastkin priest and ask about ways to strengthen my mental power—forge the mind like tempered steel.
