“Mm... fine.” Tangxue lowered her head like a wilted reed, a little gloom hanging like fog.

“So why aren’t you two going inside to talk? You enjoy letting the north wind knife your cheeks?”

“I don’t mind...” Her voice lay flat like still water.

“You’re right, let’s go in.” Linyue Yao looked at Xuewei with a spring-bright smile. “A few days apart and you’re even prettier, with more sunlight on your face.”

“Oh? Really?” Xuewei’s shy laugh fluttered like a sparrow’s wing. “I do feel happier, probably because my brother came back, like warmth after frost.”

Tangxue said nothing; her gaze swung between them like a slow pendulum. The children, curious as sparrows on a sill, peered through the window and poured downstairs to greet them.

“Sis Xuewei!”

“It’s Sis Xuewei!”

“Wow! Sis Xuewei brought us gifts!”

“Yay!”

Xuewei’s popularity rose like a warm tide; everyone adored her. Tangxue watched with a soft smile, a winter shadow on the side, and quietly stepped back, her chill breath like rime not fit for small hands.

“Xuewei, remember to bring the gifts in later,” Linyue Yao said, her tone calm as a lake. “I’ve things to tell Tangxue; watch the kids for me.” She took Tangxue’s hand like a steady breeze tugging a kite and led her toward the backyard.

“Ah? Oh...” Xuewei answered, her attention scattered like dandelion fluff.

They slipped to a small, quiet hill behind the yard, where the grass lay still as a sleeping cat.

“Ye— Tangxue... I’ve known who you are for a long time.” Her voice came like a bell wrapped in snow.

“Mm...” The sound drifted from Tangxue like a thread of mist.

“Mm? Aren’t you curious how I know?” Linyue Yao’s eyes glinted like curious stars.

“I can guess. One of those few told you, right?” Her words fell like cards on a table.

“Which few?”

“Qingyu Mengyin, Qing Feng Yuelian... or Long Yi Bingxue?” Each name rose like a pale moon.

“I’ve never heard any of those,” Linyue Yao said, helpless as a shrugging willow. “What if I said it was your mother? Would you believe me?” The question dropped like a stone in a pond.

“Huh?” The sound caught like wind on a chime.

Mother? I’ve got more than a few I call Mom; the thought scattered like leaves. How do I know which one you mean?

Though she had many mothers, Tangxue felt no wrong in it; gratitude ran deep like roots drinking many springs.

“The Ice Deity—Rain Moon Willow.”

“Huh...?” The name brushed her like a cold feather.

Tangxue’s expression shifted from doubt to surprise to shock, like clouds breaking for lightning. The name was new, yet familiar, an old melody under fresh snow.

“Rain Moon Willow...” She lowered her head, murmuring the name like turning prayer beads, then caught herself as if shaken awake.

“No. Before... I think I heard the Ice Deity’s name, and it wasn’t this, was it?” Her brow tightened like ice taking hold.

“The Ice Deity has many names,” Linyue Yao said, her face turning solemn as stone. “Gods wear many titles: Sea God, Water God, Ice Deity, the Primordial Seven. Rain Moon Willow isn’t her only call-sign.”

“Names aren’t the point, Tangxue. Please carve what I say next into your heart, like a knife mark in bamboo.”

“First: the Far North once lay beneath the Ice Deity’s palace; it wasn’t always a killing-cold land. Deep under the ice sleeps a shard of Frostwhisper’s power.”

Huh? A portion of Frostwhisper’s power? The thought flashed like a silver fish.

“Second: in the past, the Ice Deity was appointed the gatekeeper deity of Hell, and she—like you—can stir the power of the Divine Tomb.” Her words rang like keys against an iron gate.

That much I know... The certainty sat in her chest like a warmed stone.

“Third: the Ice Deity is dead, yet her will still lingers in this world. At the zenith of the sky, in an ice-sealed space, her remnant soul remains. All three clues point north like a compass. If you hit a wall you can’t break, go to the Far North and reclaim the power that’s yours.”

“...” Silence spread like falling snow.

“An unsolvable problem? I don’t think I’ve met one yet, Mama Linyue.” A faint smile thinned like winter sunlight.

“Maybe so, but knowing early never hurts,” she said, nodding with the ease of a farmer finishing a row. Her mission felt done, like a seed finally planted.

She’d known these three things long ago; back then Ling Yehan was small, so Linyue Yao kept them buried like kernels in winter.

“If I ever face what I can’t fix, I’ll go to the Far North. No... even if I don’t, I still want to see it,” Tangxue murmured, her nod like a promise tied with red thread.

If Mama Linyue’s right, my birthplace is in the Far North. Each time I die and lose memory, I’m reborn in that Celestial Ice Palace, like frost budding at dawn.

I wonder what happens if I go back normally... Reclaim power? I don’t chase power—no, I do! I still have to solve the plane’s ice-seal, and time drips away like melting icicles... But I promised Xuewei I’d play with her for a while, and I promised Mama Linyue I wouldn’t brood during this time... The thoughts tangled like reeds in current.

Linyue Yao read Tangxue’s heart like wind reading chimes, and she smiled warm as tea. “What I said earlier was just to soothe Xuewei. If you’ve got pressing matters, don’t feel bound.”

“No. I gave my word to you, Mama Linyue, so I won’t break it—unless things grow dangerous enough to threaten your safety.” Tangxue pressed her brow, pain blooming like a firecracker behind her eyes whenever “important matters” rang.

“Let’s head back, Mama Linyue.”

“Mm... wait. Let me pull out the little eavesdropper first.” Linyue Yao’s face darkened like a storm front. She strode to a bush and yanked out a small girl like a rabbit from grass.

“Eavesdropping isn’t a good habit, Xiaoxiao.”

“Waaah! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, sob, I’m sorry, Mama Linyue...” The girl curled up like a frightened hedgehog, tears beading like pearls.

The sight tugged Tangxue’s heart, thawing like ice in sun. Maybe the kid just passed by, caught their words, and hid, scared to step out.

“Don’t let this slippery little thing fool you, Tangxue,” Linyue Yao huffed, her tone sharp as a snapped twig. “She’s a famed info broker around Dongshan City, selling secrets for coin. Don’t trust that meek look; inside, she might be calling you all chest, no brains, and a bleeding heart.”

“That’s too much, Mama Linyue! I’m not like that at all!” Tangxue flared, anger sparking like flint—was that really how Mama Linyue used to see her?

“I know you aren’t,” Linyue Yao said, voice level as a calm sea. “But whether this little imp sees you that way—who knows?” She pointed at the pouting Xiaoxiao, and both their gazes swung toward her like twin blades of winter.