“What about you, Qianya? You’re after the same person, right? In your eyes, what kind of girl is she?” she asked, her words drifting like a breeze over water.

“Me?” Qianya froze, then a smile unfurled like dawn over snow. “Lover.”

“...”

“...”

“…?”

Her words fell, and the air crystallized; the other three’s breaths vanished like mist at sunrise.

“Ha... huh?”

“What’s wrong with you all? Was my answer off?”

“Aren’t you a girl?” The question skittered like a startled sparrow.

“What does that matter?” Her tone was calm, like still lake glass.

“It matters a lot, okay!” Dawn Sugar Snow burst out, her voice like a snapped bowstring, then bowed her head with a sigh, her composure settling like ash.

“I’ve watched her. She seems to prefer women, so I keep this face with an easy heart, like water holding the moon. If she likes another type, I’ll change—like clay under warm hands. Whatever it takes.”

“Ah, so that’s what you meant...” Dawn Sugar Snow nodded, understanding flickering like lantern light. “Still no! At least you should—!”

“At least what...?”

“Nothing...” She drooped, her cheeks blooming red like plum petals after snow.

“Oh.” Qianya chuckled, sly as a fox in frost.

She thought, a whisper skimming her heart like rain on leaves: She knows her sister’s feelings. And she has her own. If they both love, why not face it? Strange. Should I help?

The idea rose like steam and vanished; Qianya wasn’t the head-pushing squad. She wouldn’t force a match, even if they were meant to be.

“Dawn Sugar Snow, thanks for last time.” Her words were warm as a hearth. “If you ever need my help, tell me. If it’s within my power, I’ll give it my all.”

But if she asks on her own, Qianya thought, a solution blooms like night jasmine. Right?

“Heh, thanks for the thought, Qianya, but that was just a small thing,” Dawn Sugar Snow said, her smile light as drizzle. “Like shooing off a mean dog while holding a gun.”

“What are your plans tonight?” Qianya asked, her curiosity drifting like smoke.

“Me? Hmm... go see Yueyu,” she said, gaze lifting like a kite to the clouds.

“... I want to go back and rest,” another voice sighed, soft as moss.

“Eh? I heard the Academy’s Stargazing Cliff looks perfect at night,” Qianya said, painting the scene like ink on rice paper. “Imagine midnight, sitting by the grass with someone you care about, watching the stars—doesn’t that feel romantic?”

“Romantic...” Dawn Sugar Snow gave Qianya a look, half-wry and half-storm, like a cloud catching moonlight.

“How is that romantic?” The doubt tapped like a bamboo stick on stone.

“Eh? That’s not romantic? Does rolling on the same bed count more?” Qianya smiled, fox-bright, mischief flicking like a tail.

“Mm, I think sitting by the cliff and admiring the view is romantic,” someone agreed, voice like a soft stream. “Rain Moon Willow, what do you think?”

“If you want to go, Sis, then let’s go and take a look,” Rain Moon Willow murmured, nestling her words like a bird in a palm. “We can still sleep together when we get back.”

“Okay~ let’s all go!” Xuewei threw up both hands, joy scattering like confetti petals.

Idiot Xuewei! Qianya’s heart yelped, her face a silent scream, the timing twisting meanings like vines.

Xuewei didn’t catch Qianya’s internal shout; she just beamed at Qianya, her happiness bright as sunlight after rain.

“I haven’t really studied the stars here,” Xuewei said, gratitude bubbling like spring water. “Thanks for the recommendation!”

Did you forget why we came here... Qianya’s eyes dulled, dead-fish flat, humor puddled like stagnant water.

“Ha, but before we go, we should finish the fish, right?” Dawn Sugar Snow pointed at the half-eaten extra-large grilled fish, the fragrant smoke curling like a lazy dragon.

“Ah!? I almost forgot! If we don’t finish, we pay double!!!” Panic flapped like startled sparrows.

Their freshman perk was that platter of extra-large grilled fish: finish it, free; leave any, pay by the pound. Still, as freshmen, everything fell to the student council tab, so leaving scraps was no real loss—like tossing pebbles into a lake that never empties.

Around seven, they returned to the dorm, freshened up, and set out, the short distance inviting a walk, their steps savoring the scenery like tea.

Halfway there, Rain Moon Willow’s stamina frayed like silk; Dawn Sugar Snow gathered her into her arms, a cradle gentle as rain. Xuewei, small-bodied and sleepy, nodded off after a stretch, so Dawn Sugar Snow hoisted her onto her back, steady as a pine. What was four walking turned into two strolling, and before the cliff was half-won, rain sifted down, a silver veil over the world.

“I...” The word trembled like a sparrow in wind.

“It’s fine. I can control water. The rain won’t touch us,” Dawn Sugar Snow said, closing her eyes; above them, a rain-curtain formed, ripples blossoming where drops landed like rings on a still pond.

“This scene has its own flavor,” Qianya laughed, a touch embarrassed, her smile like a paper fan. Dawn Sugar Snow just murmured a soft “mm,” her focus wrapped around her sister like a blanket.

Rain Moon Willow seemed to relish the rain-walk in her sister’s arms, eyes half-lidded, body curling like a cat. She listened to her sister’s hum, a lullaby soft as mist, and drifted into a shallow sleep.

Am I the third wheel lantern? Qianya’s heart cried, her humor thin as rice porridge. She’d suggested this place, and here Xuewei slept, and Rain Moon Willow slept, and she was left to saunter beside Dawn Sugar Snow, smiling like a pasted mask. No sense of participation at all.

“We can see the cliff’s crest,” Qianya said, pointing where the ridge cut the sky like a blade.

“Mm-hm, yeah,” came the reply, gentle as rain on leaves.

“Too bad it’s raining; no stars tonight,” Qianya sighed, longing pooling like ink.

“Yeah.” The agreement fell soft, like a petal.

“Should we wake Yueyu?” Qianya asked, her voice cautious, a hand hovering like a moth.

“No. Let her sleep,” Dawn Sugar Snow said, the moment cupped like a lamp. “Isn’t this scene romantic too?”

“...” Qianya swallowed a protest, her heart thumping like a drum.

I do not think so.

“Xuewei sleeps so sweetly,” Dawn Sugar Snow chuckled, fondness warm as honey.

“Qianya? Are you feeling off?” Her concern reached like a hand in the dark. “Do you need to rest here? I can take you back.”

“No, no,” Qianya waved, light as wind through reeds. “I’m a Blood Elf. A little less sleep is fine. Nights energize me. Even if I don’t sleep at all, I’ll still hit class tomorrow bright and sharp.”

“Is that so? Blood Elf... born from blood?” Her curiosity flickered like a candle.

“Not born from it. We need to absorb blood to live,” Qianya said, the truth steady as stone.

“Uh, never heard of that,” Dawn Sugar Snow admitted, surprise fluttering like a moth.

“That’s normal,” Qianya said, her smile thin as a crescent moon. “Blood Elves aren’t fond of sunlight.”

“Elves I do understand,” Dawn Sugar Snow murmured, tone turning calm, like a scholar under a pine.

“Elves born from elements are hailed as just below gods, noble as starlight,” she said, words weaving like silk. “Their ancestor, the Elf King, was a by-product of the Creator’s making, tasked with mending an incomplete world, filling gaps like gold lacquer. In a way, the Elf King stands higher than gods—more like a remnant of the Creator, while gods are tools, laws hammered to stabilize order.”

“You tell me all that, and I still don’t get it,” Qianya said, helplessness pooling like rainwater.

“Do you?” Dawn Sugar Snow’s smile was unreadable, like fog over a lake. “I think you will. Qianya, you’re special.”

“I respect elves, so I’m glad to be friends with you,” she continued, her sincerity clear as spring water. “But I can’t see through you. There’s always a shadow over your face, like a cloud that won’t clear. That’s not a look a teen should wear.”