“And then?” Xuewei rolled her eyes, limp like a wilted leaf after rain; the words slid past her like water over stone.

“Xuewei, did lack of life experience shrink you back into a kid?” Qianya’s tone flicked like a twig.

“You’re the kid!” Xuewei snapped, a spark in damp straw.

“Okay. Got it.” Qianya nodded, confidence settling like mist clearing at dawn.

“Let me spell it out. If Tangxue entered this space with us, she’s here to find Rain Moon Willow, like a river seeking its source.”

“I felt the same-source power in that gray‑haired girl, like twin currents under one moon.”

“Even if she isn’t Tangxue, she’s tied to her by a thousand threads, like silk webbing in dew.”

“So I think Rain Moon Willow is Tangxue’s birth parent, the root beneath the trunk.”

“...??” Xuewei’s blank face was a paper lantern with no flame.

That look cracked Qianya’s certainty like a mirror under frost.

Talking to her drains my IQ like sand through a sieve, Qianya grumbled inwardly, thunder trapped in a teacup.

“We stick close to Rain Moon Willow. Tangxue will come. We lay the snare and let the prey step in.”

“...What if Brother doesn’t show?” The worry fell like a pebble into a still pond.

Yeah. What if he doesn’t? Qianya froze, her heart snagged on a thorn.

‘If he doesn’t, we’re bleeding our best time like water from a cut skin.’

‘Worst case, we get snuffed in this hellhole, like two ants under a careless boot.’

‘So why waste time here? Because we’ve nowhere else, like travelers circling one lone fire.’

‘This place is a desert without horizon; this oasis is all we have under the sun.’

‘If we leave, we’ll drown in starfields and grass oceans, lost and dying in the wind.’

‘If Tangxue never comes, what then? I…’ The thought frayed like old rope.

“…We keep living here for a while,” she said at last, anchoring like a boat before a gale. “We’ve got no other choice.”

“Huh?” Xuewei blinked, a moth at a window.

“Right now Tangxue’s hiding from us. If she won’t meet, we can’t force it, like fists on fog,” Qianya said, voice low as dusk. “My gut says this is the shore. She’ll come.”

“Mm. I trust you.” Xuewei nodded, then shut her eyes and rolled over, snuffing the lamp like a candle in wind, burrowing into the covers like a dormouse.

Qianya’s mouth opened; an eye‑twitch jumped like a fish in a shallow pool.

What is with this girl??? The thought rattled like beans in a gourd.

She was a Blood Elf and didn’t need lights, but still—ask before you kill the flame, like sharing a hearth.

Qianya swatted Xuewei’s quilt, her mood sour as vinegar; Xuewei turned, and they stared like two cats at dusk.

“Problem?” Xuewei’s voice was a dry leaf.

“Yeah. Why’d you kill the light?” Qianya’s words tapped like rain.

“Aren’t you a Vampire? Vampires should like the dark, right?” The question floated like smoke.

“I’m not a Vampire. I’m a Blood Elf!” Qianya’s glare flashed like ice under moon.

“Fine.” Xuewei muttered, flicked the switch, and curled back into the quilt like a hibernating cub.

“….” Silence spread like ink in water.

Why am I even sparring with her… Qianya face‑palmed, palm cool as river stone, then stood on the moon‑cooled balcony with thoughts like tangled threads, and finally lay down.

“Yueyu, you’re saying those two next door—the fake Student Council pair—came for me today?” Dawn Sugar Snow pointed at herself, startled as a bird from brush.

“Mm, Sis… do you think they’re bad?” Rain Moon Willow’s gaze slid to the wall, a blade of grass leaning to wind.

“Doesn’t seem likely. Even if they tried, they’re too weak—candles in a field of bonfires, honestly,” Dawn Sugar Snow said, doubt like a thin cloud.

“Probably… maybe,” Rain Moon Willow murmured, uncertain as ripples; their strength was oddly small, like minnows in a sea. She wondered how they even got here.

“Also, when they saw me, they gave up on talking,” Dawn Sugar Snow said, eyes reflecting loss like heavy rain on a lake. “Maybe they’re really searching for someone.”

“But… they lied to me…” Yueyu’s words pricked like a thorn under skin.

“Maybe… Yueyu, you were too fierce?” Dawn Sugar Snow’s awkward laugh flickered like sun on snow, then dimmed.

“Sis—?” Yueyu shot her a sidelong look, sharp as a hawk’s blink. Dawn Sugar Snow flinched and mimed zipping her lips, the gesture neat as a tied ribbon.

Among the gods, Yueyu stood above the middle, her aura a mountain ridge; meet her eyes and you’d feel Death’s shadow like cold steel.

In truth, she was gentle, the soft rain beneath thunder; her sister was the reverse, a warm smile with hidden knives under silk.

“Since you say so, Sis, I’ll stop fussing.” Rain Moon Willow breathed out and nested in her sister’s arms like a small bird, eyes closing.

“You…” Dawn Sugar Snow glanced at the other bed, then down at the girl in her arms, and sighed like wind through pines after a long hesitation.

Decisive by nature, Dawn Sugar Snow only wavered where her sister was concerned, like a sword held back by a silk thread.

Deep night. The campus lay black as ink on rice paper; a few Student Council members patrolled with halos like colored moons and wings like pale sails.

Their rainbow rings lit the road like lantern fish, pushing back night step by step.

After they passed, a deep‑crimson figure slid from the corner and bared a grin like a split pomegranate; a halo burned above its head, gaudier, like fresh blood.

“In a world where the strong eat the weak, you dare swim upstream against heaven?” it hissed, voice a cold wind. “Heh… You yearn for peace? Class is in session.”

Predation is evolution’s root, stone set in a riverbed, even among gods; only this academy kicks the current.

Its founder tries to chisel new letters into the law, to teach newborn gods strange knowledge and bend the river’s course.

“Truly, laughable to the bone,” it said, contempt sharp as frost.

The black‑red shadow melted into night like ink in rain.

Gods are tools in the Creator’s hand, mere hammers for the forge; tools that defy the Maker’s law get tossed.

Go against the sky, and you’ll shatter to dust on the anvil.

“Ah!” Qianya jerked upright, breath scraping like dry leaves; she hadn’t slept in ages, and tonight a nightmare caught her in its net.

‘What was that voice? Go against the sky, and shatter to dust?’ The echo crawled like ice down her spine.

Lines of annoyance crawled across her brow; she rubbed her temples like wiping fog from glass, then swung her legs down to wash.

‘That girl… still asleep?’ Qianya shook her head, a willow flick in wind, and after washing slipped out to hunt food.

Lucky—meals were free; not only ketchup, but even an unknown red liquid, gleaming like a ruby vial.

Qianya blinked and took the cup from the kind senior; she sniffed, and iron filled her nose like rusted rain. It was blood. How did she know?

“Senior, do you have Blood Elves or Vampires here too?” Her question hung like a bell tone.

“Hm? Isn’t it just you? Did I misremember…” The angelic senior’s halo dulled like a cloud crossing the moon; worry pinched her face.

“...” Qianya didn’t linger; she took the bag and left like a swift shadow, then grabbed human breakfast from another window, steam curling like mist.

On the way, she ran into Dawn Sugar Snow, out to fetch food for her sister, a smile bright as sun on fresh snow.

Dawn Sugar Snow waved in passing and slipped from the cafeteria like a light breeze, while Qianya stood there, stunned as a stone.