The old saying goes, carved like knife-marks on bamboo: you reap what you sow.

When Xueyu finally came to, numb from the shock like rain buzzing through wires, it was already seven and night hung like ink. The instant her lids fluttered open, the first thing she saw was Lingcai’s face, a hint of disdain like frost on porcelain.

Freshly awake, Xueyu’s first words spilled like a child calling into fog: “Where’s Xiaoyue? My Xiaoyue…”

Lingcai’s temper flared, a kettle rattling on coals; her look was pure contempt. “Still pining for Xiaoyue? She went home ages ago. Maybe notice who’s sat here, tired and unthanked, watching over you till now.”

Missing the moment Xiaoyue changed clothes, Xueyu’s mood sank like a stone in a well. But a prickle rose; something about her position felt… unusual, like a cat curled wrong on a windowsill.

Under her head, something soft cradled her, spring-tight yet tender, like clouds banded with silk. She tried to roll her face to peek, but Lingcai pushed her away with that same disdain, a willow switch flicking her back.

Then came the sound of Xueyu hitting the ground, heavy as a sack on cobbles. Thud.

Only then did she notice, above the spot she’d fallen from, the girl’s legs—white as carved jade, fine as filigree. She replayed the touch, sleek as water on a river stone, and felt tiny beads of fragrant sweat clinging to her hair.

The picture clicked into place, like lanterns lighting one by one; her eyes locked on Lingcai’s knees. “Cai-cai… were you… giving me a lap pillow this whole time?”

Lingcai lifted the backpack and planted it before her knees, a little wall against Xueyu’s gaze; her tone dripped displeasure. “What else? I could’ve left you lying on the pebble road like driftwood, if you don’t mind getting poked to bits.”

She said it sharp as a blade, but her heart stayed tofu-soft, warm as steam rising from rice.

Xueyu froze for half a beat, then pounded the ground with both fists, tears spilling like sudden rain. “Guh, I regret it so much…”

Seeing that, Lingcai’s voice softened a shade, like dusk easing the glare. “Good. At least you know regret. Do you know what you did wrong?”

Xueyu beat her chest and stomped, tears bright as dew. “If only I’d faked sleep longer… a loli’s thighs and a lap pillow…”

Still chasing stray thoughts like leaves in wind. You clearly haven’t had enough lessons burned into you.

Lingcai shot her another look, scorn sharp as a thorn. She hugged her backpack up and covered her legs tight as a curtain, giving Xueyu zero space for lewd daydreams.

Xueyu lifted her arm and checked her wrist; where the shock bracelet had sat, a red burn marked her like a brand. The bracelet itself had vanished, swallowed like a pebble by the stream.

“By the way, where’s the bracelet Xiaoyue gave me?” She pointed at the singed mark and asked Lingcai, anxiety flickering like a moth.

“I tossed it. You still want that thing on?” She grumbled, voice low like simmering tea. “Honestly, making alchemy trinkets without safety tests…”

She hadn’t even finished muttering when Xueyu jolted upright, urgency crackling like dry straw. “W-where’d you toss it? No, I have to go find it—”

Xueyu spun to search, but met Lingcai’s white-eyed glare, cold as moonlight. “You seriously want that thing back? Did the shock fry your brain?”

Xueyu shook her head, helpless as a reed in wind. “No… at least it’s a gift from Xiaoyue. I can’t just toss it…”

Didn’t think you had a red-thread kind of loyalty in you.

Lingcai silently unzipped the bag and pulled out the shock bracelet, scorched black like a spent coal. She pressed it into Xueyu’s hands like handing off a cooled ember. “Here. If you want a keepsake, keep it yourself. And maybe grow a memory. Don’t go into heat like a rabbit every time you see a pretty girl.”

Xueyu took the bracelet and went full prostration, five points to the ground, like a pilgrim kissing stone. “Thank you, Cai-cai, for saving my mutt’s life! From now on I’ll love only you, Cai-cai! So… could I maybe lay on your lap pillow again…”

Hopeless. Lingcai shook her head, exasperation rolling like thunder. A dog never stops eating crap.

“Forget it. Be loyal to your princess, like you’re supposed to. With her temper, I’m shocked she hasn’t taken your head off.”

“Truth be told, I’ve already been dragged out for beheading a dozen times…” Xueyu added, and somehow the blade keeps missing, like thunder that never breaks the tree.

I’m done. You being alive is a straight-up miracle, like a candle that won’t blow out.

Xueyu scratched her head, sheepish as a guilty cat. “But Her Highness and I grew up together… Even when she says she’ll take my head, it’s just hot-blood talk… hahaha…”

Lingcai rolled her eyes, the moon sliding behind a cloud. “I get it now. Your no-memory habit got spoiled by her.”

She let out a long sigh, like dusk settling over rooftops.

“Why the sigh, Cai-cai?” Xueyu knelt where she was, hands on her knees, gazing up at Lingcai like a supplicant by a shrine.

Lingcai’s tone carried pure headache, like a storm brewing behind her eyes. “Scarlet Leaf’s meeting me tomorrow. But in this state, how do I face her…”

“Who’s Scarlet Leaf?” Xueyu blinked, head tilted like a sparrow.

“Scarlet Leaf is my fiancée. She’s coming to the capital tomorrow to find me and said, alive she sees me, dead she sees my corpse…” Her words were iron chains.

“Then go meet her. You’re alive, aren’t you.” Xueyu sounded breezy, like a leaf skimming water.

Lingcai hugged her backpack and slumped over it, anger puffing her up like a pufferfish. “No! I’d rather die than meet her like this! How would she see me after? Think it through: your long-absent fiancé suddenly comes back one day as a cute girl—what would you think?”

“I’d be thrilled,” Xueyu said, eyes lighting like lanterns. She scooted closer, hands lifting like she’d cradle Lingcai’s. “If she doesn’t want you, I’ll take you.”

Lingcai raised a leg and kicked her back, swift as a spring trap. “My Scarlet Leaf isn’t like you! Scram!”

Even kicked, Xueyu’s gaze kept drifting over Lingcai’s pretty calves and long boots, like a magpie stealing glances. This is exactly her kink. Sure, human tastes are free as wind, but sometimes you should see a doctor.

Xueyu seemed to think of a plan and edged in again, like a fox nosing at a gate. “Right, I’ve got a way…”

“Before you speak, keep five meters between us,” Lingcai warned, face solemn as a judge. She hugged the bag, tucked her slim legs onto the chair, and raised the backpack like a shield. Sorry. There’s now a pitiful wall between our souls.

“If you won’t let me near, how do I say it…” Xueyu backed up two steps, retreating like tide.

Lingcai kept her face cold, a lake under ice. “You promised—you’d listen to whatever I say. Staying away isn’t too much, right? What’s your way? Speak.”

From that polite distance, Xueyu offered her scheme, voice sly as a cat. “Tell her you’ve got state business and can’t meet for a bit. Sweet-talk her back home. Done.”

“Easy for you to say!” Lingcai shot back, eyes sparking like flint. “She said alive she sees me, dead she sees my corpse—how do I send her away? You don’t even know her. She’s set on seeing me. You think two or three lines will work?”

Xueyu gave a weak laugh, thin as paper. “Maybe I can’t… but even if she won’t give me face, she’ll give the Princess face, right? Her Highness can talk her down, hand her a gift, let her play two days, then send her home. Problem solved.”

Lingcai pictured Kelor’s explosive temper and let out a bitter laugh, dry as winter bark. “Yeah, no. Her Highness might not be willing at all. Forget it. Think of another way…”

Xueyu blinked, mischief glinting like starlight. “The real Princess might be busy, but a fake Princess has time.”

At the words “fake Princess,” Lingcai snapped to, like a bowstring tightening. “Ah…? Don’t tell me you mean…”