By nightfall, on a gull-wing whim, Dreamsound moved dinner to a little island set in the silver sea.

Before she started the real cooking, she made a few belly-filling snacks for her daughter, steam curling like dawn mist, because a lavish meal takes time.

On the island she’d built with her own hands stood a big house, solid as reef rock, mirroring the one below the waves.

Even the ingredients lived free like tide and wind; in summer nights, turtles lounged on the beach like mossy stones in moonlight.

This island held almost nothing harmful; if there had been, Dreamsound had already eaten it, clean as a swept shore.

With one thought, she flashed to the beach in a ripple of light, a strange-shaped basket dangling from her right hand.

“Tonight, let’s make a crab feast...” Her words fell like a net over water.

Around her, creatures sensed the wrongness, and the easy air tightened like a drumskin before a strike.

Dreamsound saw the “ingredients” try to sneak off; she didn’t rush, just smiled and chose with a fisher’s calm.

Silent bubbles rose like glass lanterns, wrapping fleeing crabs, and at her will they drifted into the basket like caught stars.

Aside from the crabs, everything else she needed slept inside, snug as spices in winter.

Qingyu Mengyin carried the basket of crabs into the house, her flawless feet printing the sand, then the waves kissed those tracks smooth.

Inside, she set the basket down, and from crystal orbs that stored food like bottled starlight, she pulled out seasonings into little bags.

She’d planned to cook indoors; then a breeze of whim said, eat on the beach with Shengsheng under the sky.

Chopping still stayed inside; the wind outside cut like thin knives.

She handled every ingredient with ease: fresh crabs, well-chilled pork, scallion, ginger, garlic, and chili, her knife singing like rain on slate.

Of course Dreamsound could cook; fire and smoke were old friends who knew her breath.

She’d lived alone for decades; without cooking, she’d have starved to a pot’s hollow echo.

Once everything was prepped, she carried the kitchen tools out to the beach, a small altar set beside the sea.

The sea wind was strong, and fine sand skittered; to keep food clean, she glazed the beach with a thin sheet of water, clear as glass.

When all was ready, she began to make dinner, night deepening around her like ink.

Toward dusk, Tangxue was shaken awake from foggy sleep, as if a wave nudged a drifting boat.

“What d’you want... move yourself... don’t bother me... I’m sleeping...” Her words drifted like warm breath.

She didn’t open her eyes; she rolled over like a curled cat and chased the tide back into dreams.

Dreamsound watched the girl by the bed, tender as moonlight pooling in a basin, a small smile at her lips.

A mother should lavish softness and let her sleep more; the past days had been bone-deep and heavy as wet clothes.

Home at last, the best rest would be to sleep until dawn brushed the sea pale.

But staring at that frowning, impossibly cute face, she couldn’t stop, like a moth circling a lantern.

Her heart said let her rest, yet her hand kept nudging, a dragonfly-tap of the index finger on a soft cheek.

Afraid to wake her, yet craving those shifting expressions like shells in the surf, she kept teasing.

“Time to eat... it’s late. If you want to sleep, eat first, then sleep~” Her voice lapped like warm water.

Soft and fine, it was a lullaby that floated you downriver; yet for the half-asleep, a mermaid’s tone tugged the last thread of wake.

It was the merfolk’s bewitching lure; even unseen, the voice alone could snare the world like silk on skin.

Live long with the merfolk, and you end up obeying the voice, a leash as light as breath.

That unique lure was a slow poison in plain days; once you fell, you couldn’t pull free from honeyed thorns.

But Tangxue was immune, a stone in the stream that refused to move.

Reason? Sometimes, she was just too annoying, like a mosquito at your ear.

“Enough!!! How long are you gonna keep pushing?!”

Tangxue exploded up, yanked her quilt like a breaking wave, and Dreamsound tumbled to the floor with a shell-thud.

Tangxue felt zero pity. Not a drop. Her heart was ice for a beat.

“You, you, you... it’s been ten minutes! You poked my face for ten minutes!” She clutched her left cheek, peach-warm and sore, and pointed at the culprit.

“You really think I don’t have a temper?!”

“For f***’s sake!”

On the floor, Dreamsound said pitifully, voice small as a wet kitten, “Mmph... Mama just wanted to wake Shengsheng for dinner...”

“Eat it yourself! I’m sleeping!” She flopped down and burrowed under the quilt like a little otter.

“I just wanted to wake Shengsheng for dinner...” The words floated like a sigh.

“...”

Even with a pillow over her head, that face stuck to the inside of her eyelids; so annoying, like gum on a shoe.

Even with eyes shut, that almost-crying look rang in her mind, a picture rippling on water.

She’d never seen her cry, yet that whimpering voice painted it in soft strokes.

“Fine, fine, I’m getting up...” Tangxue sat up, but Dreamsound’s face was nothing like what she’d imagined, the turn like sun into cloud.

The smile Tangxue had prepared froze; the hand she’d raised to comfort felt like a clown’s dangling mask.

She shouldn’t have tried, and yet when Dreamsound saw it, she felt it was worth every heartbeat.

Ahh—Shengsheng, trying to play adult with that faint smile, then freezing from embarrassment, was too cute, like a kitten puffing itself up.

Dreamsound reined herself in and smoothed her voice like water. “Ahem, since you’re up, shall we go eat?”

“Let go of me! You heart-playing siren! Demon! Ahhh you’re tugging my blanket—I’ll bite you...?”

While Tangxue ranted, Dreamsound gently slid her fair right hand into Tangxue’s mouth, a pale fish slipping past parted lips.

“Mmph...!”

Tangxue snapped back, yanked the intruder out, and glared with eyes dark and glossy as deep wells.

“Go on, bite. It was Mama’s fault. If biting makes you feel better, then please do.” She kept smiling, spring-warm and steady.

Then Dreamsound leaned against her daughter again, the tide pressing close to shore.

Tangxue shivered; as Dreamsound drew near, tears beaded at her lashes like dawn dew.

Why? You know I don’t want to hurt you, not even a little. Why do you bully me like this, glass-heart cracking?

“You... you... you only bully me!!!”

Once again, under Dreamsound’s startled gaze, Tangxue became an ostrich, burying herself in warm sand and shadow.

This time, no matter how Dreamsound tugged, the clam stayed clamped tight, silent and stubborn.

Only when Dreamsound came back to herself did she feel the cold wave at her ankles: she really might’ve messed up.