“Tangxue’s changes… they’re way too much.”

Afternoon light pooled like warm silk. Dreamsound went down for her usual nap, while Yaya led Tangxue to their family’s private training yard.

“Tangxue, let’s practice swordplay this afternoon, yeah? I want to see your talent in a real fight.”

“Swordplay…?” Tangxue looked at Yaya, her puzzled gaze shining like morning dew.

“It’s for staying alive. Here—catch!”

Yaya tossed a wooden sword. It arced too high, a clumsy gull against the sky. Tangxue tracked it, hands sliding left and right, then—bonk. The sword smacked her square on the head.

“Ugh…”

“Ah! Tangxue, are you okay?!” Yaya rushed over, panic fluttering like startled fish. She scooped Tangxue up, checked her with guilty care, and only relaxed when nothing seemed broken.

“Doesn’t look like you’re faking it. Seriously though… this body’s too fragile.”

Even other Merfolk kids at this age could take a stone thrown from ten meters and only grumble a bit.

Yaya laid Tangxue on a cushion nearby, letting her rest under a cool hush. She fetched a cold towel and pressed it to Tangxue’s brow, a patch of winter on summer skin.

About an hour later, Tangxue finally stirred.

“Mm… is it night already?”

“No. You missed the catch and got knocked out. It’s been about an hour.”

Tangxue flushed, shut her eyes, and went silent, embarrassment rippling like a thin veil.

“Playing dead won’t help. Once you’ve rested, we’re still continuing.”

“Eh?!”

Tangxue’s physique was paper-thin, but her learning was sharp as a needle. She could grasp a pile of knowledge in a short drill. Yet put her in a fight, and the tide turned.

Yaya’s headaches came in waves. Combat drills were mandatory for every child of the Merfolk royal house. Even Dreamsound, not yet five, had already begun. Tangxue’s body looked like a twelve- or thirteen-year-old’s, yet she couldn’t lift a greatsword. In the capital, the laughter would sting.

Worse, Tangxue’s face resembled Yaya’s—too closely. If someone saw her, they’d take her for a royal at first glance.

If Yaya weren’t the one living it, she’d suspect this little troublemaker was her own secret daughter.

Without noticing, Tangxue and Dreamsound had gone from playing at being sisters to simply being sisters. Tangxue was already growing twice as fast as Dreamsound, her height stacking up like bamboo after rain.

Hardly “little,” right?

Yaya slumped into her chair, mind and body sanded down to grain. Trouble kept knocking. Because of a planar upheaval, the resource gap between continent and ocean had widened like a split reef. The ocean, under the favor of a Divine Artifact, showed no sign of decline in this failing plane—if anything, it surged stronger.

So the Empire faced a combined snub from the continental nations, the scent of war thickening like storm ozone.

But the Empire’s power held like a deep current, and most nations hesitated to strike first.

Right now, the Empire was willing to ease resource shortages elsewhere, selling some goods at low prices. But shipping and guarding had to be handled by the Empire—and that was originally Yaya’s lover’s work. So, for now, the three of them still lived together.

Truth is… in Tangxue’s memories, she had never seen Dreamsound or that “father,” not until the memories cut off like a torn net.

“Ughhh, I have to cook again! So annoying…” Yaya flopped over the table, spirit drained, wishing Tangxue would one day take over the meals on her own.

Usually, Tangxue helped only after Yaya asked, and Yaya’s face wasn’t thick enough to order her just because she didn’t want to get up. She was a mom, after all—she couldn’t be too lazy. Right?

Dragging herself up with dark circles like bruised moons, Yaya swam into the kitchen. She sliced squid, cleaned it until it gleamed, and tossed it into a popping oil bath to make skewers.

She loved these handy, delicious bites. Out they came, slicked with chili oil, dusted with cumin and pepper, crowned with onion and dotted with scallion. The whole process was no-brain—just rhythm and scent.

She still needed a staple. Yaya took thin noodles from a container, the kind the maid had bought on an island market. She blanched them, then pulled out jarred dried shrimp cured days ago. A sprinkle over the noodles, then she drizzled a mixed sauce evenly across, tossed it rough, and finished with a special fragrant oil to keep the noodles from clumping. Done, swift as a tide.

“One more main dish…” Yaya stared into the fridge, thoughts circling like fish. She hesitated, then took out half a giant prawn.

Processing it rubbed against her mood—too much hassle. But if the two little ones loved it, then fine.

She set the prawn in a pot with cooking wine and spices, simmering until the shell blushed red. She fished it out and used her azure water blade to score the shell, neat cuts like icy script. She pulled out the inedible bits, rinsed the prawn clean, and moved it to the grill.

Flame kissed the shell. Yaya brushed the shell again and again with aromatic oil. It sizzled, and the drips ran through the cuts onto the flesh, scent rising like a teasing breeze. She chopped onion, green pepper, and bird’s-eye chili, stirring them with salt, sugar, and cooking wine into a sauce. Then she brushed and brushed, layers building like lacquer.

“Soy sauce, vinegar, sugar, scallion, salt, green pepper… mm, that should be it.”

She set the dipping sauce aside, its surface trembling like a dark pond.

The shrimp was already full of flavor, but last time Yaya noticed Tangxue loved dipping the grilled shrimp in sauce—same with other dishes, unless the taste was heavy already.

She still remembered when Tangxue accidentally bit into a ghost pepper. Crying for two hours—so pitiful, yet so funny, like a rainstorm on a sunny day.

“Ah!”

“…”

Yaya glanced down. She’d smeared sauce on her palm. She hesitated, then brought her hand to her lips and licked it clean, tongue a quick pink flick.

“Not bad,” she murmured, then went back to brushing like a calm rain.

“Tangxue, go call Dreamsound in for dinner. By the time you’re back, the shrimp should be done.”

“Okay, Mom~”

Tangxue answered sweetly, then trotted out like a small wave, going to fetch Dreamsound. They had lived together for almost a year. Yaya and Dreamsound had long since taken Tangxue as family. Even so… Yaya still worried.

Tangxue carried secrets they didn’t know. Like that slender sword called Frostwhisper she pulled from the arena a few days back.

“Tangxue, you’re saying this weapon appeared by your bed last night?”

Yaya couldn’t believe a holy-looking blade like that had anything to do with Tangxue, whose battle power was about as sturdy as wet paper.

“Mhm.” Tangxue closed her eyes and nodded, resignation soft as mist.

Yaya fell silent. Tangxue never lied, and she’d brought the sword straight to Yaya as soon as it appeared. Clearly, she didn’t know either.

Yaya reached out and touched the hilt.

Frostwhisper, the ice sword, weighed almost nothing—light as a handkerchief in her grip.

“So cold… It feels like holding a block of ice.”