“I see. I thought that person still held a grudge.” Xuewei let out a breath, a wisp of fog melting in morning light.

“Hard to say. That one looks down on the weak, even her own kin.” Dawn Sugar Snow spoke lightly, voice cool as shade. “So that Heng Lan keeps stirring trouble at Heavenly Deity Academy.”

“Heng Lan… the one who fought Qianya last time?” A shard of ice flickered in Xuewei’s eyes.

“Mm. But with her sister at the Academy now, she’s probably writhing like a fish on a drying reef.” Dawn Sugar Snow smiled, a petal-thin curve.

“What next? Xuewei, what’s your plan?” The question hung like a crossroads in dust.

“I’ll… stay here and wait for Qianya to wake. Alone, I can’t do much.” Her voice was a candle by a sickbed, steady in a draft.

“Alright, we won’t crowd you. If anything happens, we’ll tell you.” Dawn Sugar Snow’s tone was a mild breeze at the door. “See you tomorrow, Xuewei~”

“Mm, see you tomorrow, Tangxue, Yueyu.” Xuewei waved, a leaf in soft wind. Once they left, her porcelain smile cracked, and worry pooled like winter shadow.

“Qianya, what’s happened to you… please be alright.” Her prayer drifted like a lantern on a dark river.

The next morning broke pale as fish-belly light.

“What’s up today? No line at breakfast this early? Did everyone run over there to watch the fun?” Voices fluttered like sparrows.

“Let’s go take a look.” They moved with the wind, leaves pulled along.

At the center of the crowd, Heng Zi, who’d enrolled just yesterday, sat across from a student, wagering. Chips lay like shell fragments on the table. Heng Zi was a calm cat; the other looked like a rat in a trap.

First-years? Are they betting stuff they bought at the night market a few days ago? Dawn Sugar Snow saw their year in a blink and caught Heng Zi’s intent. She stood still, a shadow tucked in the crowd, quietly noting each move like ink on snow.

“You lost. Want to keep going?” Her words fell like a cool blade.

With the call, Heng Zi announced her victory. She smiled, swept up her spoils, then looked down like a falcon from a cliff.

“Damn it… One more!” The first-year bristled, a moth lunging at flame.

“Yeah? Then let’s make it interesting.” Heng Zi’s smile was a fox’s flicker. “You set the terms. If you win, every prior stake is yours. How about it?”

The first-year wavered, scales tipping in her chest. If she set the terms, odds soared. A win could flip the board. A loss would fall on the Student Council’s net; she was new.

“Deal!” The word splashed like a palm on water.

Just as they moved on, Student Council members rushed in and snuffed the game like a gust dousing a candle.

“Hold it! You know gambling’s banned on campus! What are you doing?” Their voices rumbled like thunder under steel sky.

“We’re not gambling, Senior. Where do you see gambling?” Heng Zi spread her hands, innocence smooth as fresh snow, a kitten hiding claws.

“Nonsense! I just saw you—huh? Wh-what are we doing here?” Fog rolled through the inspector’s mind.

The inspectors traded baffled looks, compasses spinning, like geese lost in mist.

“Why did we come here again?” A kite’s string had snapped.

“Weird…” The word itched under armor.

“The crowd’s getting thick. Let’s call it for this morning.” Heng Zi rose, satisfied, leaving with a pond-calm smile as ripples faded.

“Wait! You said it! We keep betting—my rules!” The loser chased, a dog after a fleeing carriage.

“Of course~ So go prepare.” Heng Zi’s glance slid in, a needle under silk. “You can only afford to lose once more, heh.” The first-year wilted like a sapling in wind, teeth grinding as Heng Zi’s back drifted away.

“Damn her! I’ll strip her to the bones, leave her with nothing!” Her vow scratched the bark like knives.

“…” Silence fell, soft as snow.

Still the same, that one… Dawn Sugar Snow shook her head, a willow shedding dew. She turned and brushed Yueyu’s hair, smoothing a kitten’s fur.

“Let’s go, Yueyu.” Two shadows slipped along the wall.

“Mm.” The sound dropped like a pebble into a still well.

After classes, word of Heng Zi’s wager flew like wildfire. She’d won. Her opponent lost all rights, leaves stripped from a branch, and now faced expulsion. No one knew how Heng Zi did it, but the Student Council gathered like a storm bank.

“Excuse me, Vice President Taoran, you’re blocking my way to the dorm.” Her tone was a river nudging a stone.

“Heng Zi…” The name scraped like iron on ice.

“Something you need?” Heng Zi smiled, a sheathed blade. “I stayed within the rules. I didn’t gamble with her. We were conducting a transaction…”

“You’ve gone too far!” Anger beat like a drum.

“What now, Vice President? Gonna take a swing at me here?” Heng Zi chuckled, sparks jumping from flint, mockery bright in her eyes.

“This isn’t your playground. If you keep preying on students, I’ll make you leave this Academy—my way.” Taoran’s snort fell cold as sleet, a gate slamming in wind.

“Oh? I’ll look forward to it.” Heng Zi’s smile was sunset-red. “Let’s see whether you kick me out first, or I change this Academy first.”

“I look forward to the day you kneel and beg me.” Her shadow seemed to bow before a tall pine.

“Oh my, looks like I’m late. Need my help with anything, Taoran?” A breeze slipped through the doorway with a soft bell.

“Sorry for the scene, Tangxue.” Taoran’s helpless smile creased like folded paper. “I’ll handle this myself.”

“You’re walking into her snare, Taoran,” Dawn Sugar Snow said calmly, still water reflecting a net.

“I…” Taoran fell silent, a candle guttering in a draft.

“Don’t act on temper. Let me handle it.” Her hand steadied the trembling cup of the moment.

“Tangxue, I think I know her aim.” Taoran’s calm returned, like a tray balanced in careful hands. “She wants to upend the Academy’s hard-won balance. If we beat her with force, we feed her plan. Can you trust me? I may be weaker than you in a fight, but…”

Dawn Sugar Snow cut in, a bell ringing through fog. “Did you forget Heng Zi’s Authority? Senior Taoran, you really think you can handle her?”

Heng Zi—outsiders call her the Chixiao Ghost-God. Yet her Authority scarcely fits that title. Her Authority ties to cause and effect: she can divert her own calamity onto a chosen target. Beyond her versatility, she’s best at weathercraft, leashing storms like hawks and bending the sky at will.

“I’m still the best fit in this Academy.” Taoran managed a strained smile, a reed braving rain, and turned away.

“Fair enough… If we can’t use force, you’re better suited than me.” Dawn Sugar Snow murmured, regret sheathing itself like a sword sliding home.

“So no thrashing her this time. We just watch from the wings while she hogs the stage?” Thunder coiled in a clenched fist, caged in cloud.

“Sis, we’re not stepping in this time?” Yueyu looked up, two moons reflected in a basin.

“Right. Hands off. Let’s see how far she’ll go.” Dawn Sugar Snow smiled and ruffled her sister’s hair, warm as sun through leaves. “Hungry? Let’s order some stone-pot fish and visit Xuewei.”

“Mm!” At the words stone-pot fish, Yueyu brightened, a spark catching kindling. “Then let’s hurry, sis.” Her steps grew light as swallows.