They say sunlight beats shadow, yet noon can’t erase dusk; righteousness drives back evil, yet shadow pools again like nightfall.

That sits squarely with the Garden Witches, like ivy clinging to a stone wall.

They rule the city’s underbelly like queens of the cellar, yet by gripping the dark, they keep the balance like a tightrope.

Burn a field and weeds still return; spring wind brings green like a tide, so you can’t just torch them and walk away.

So the Great Sage made a pact like a fence line: keep their work to a gray shore the law’s net can’t reach.

If a witch steps off that gray sandbar into the sunlit street, cut her down like a shadow at dawn.

Not every witch keeps to the fence, and LilyBell is one stray spark over the wire.

That’s why the gleam of Lingcai’s seven-pointed star made her tense, like a blade flashing in fog.

She hadn’t just stepped over the chalk line; she’d trod a tiger’s tail and taken a swing at the Great Sage.

LilyBell went ash-pale like winter ash, and almost dropped to her knees like felled bamboo.

But Xueyu watched from not far away like a moon over water, and LilyBell’s pride stood like a stiff reed.

What do I do… what do I do… the thought beat like drums in a tight chest.

While LilyBell hovered like a cat at a threshold, Lingcai pressed to the cardboard seam like a lookout at a crack in a wall.

“Don’t mind me! Leaf! Run! I’ve still got a way out!”

The words hit LilyBell’s ears like cold water down the spine, and fear spread like frost.

Her stomach dropped like a stone, and she snapped, tense as a drawn bow: “Y-you… what way? What are you doing?”

Lingcai saw Xueyu yank Scarlet Leaf away like hauling a lifeline, and a knot in her chest loosened like a slipped rope.

Sudden as a squall, the scene still sat within her palm like a bird in a cage.

Xueyu already knew Lingcai’s backup plan like steps learned in a dance, so she dragged Scarlet Leaf without asking.

Truth is, Lingcai had one desperate arrow left in the quiver.

In her pack slept a load of sleep-gas grenades, rings ready to pull, a pale field like poppies waiting to bloom.

One tug, and a twenty-meter circle would cloud like a low fog; even an elephant would fold like a tent.

Her shout for Scarlet Leaf to run meant, Get past the ring of frost before it spills.

With that trump card under her sleeve, she faced LilyBell like a caged bird with a hidden blade.

The black paper prison boxed her in like a shadowed lantern, yet she stayed calm as still water.

“I’m not bluffing. I just don’t want to drag those two in,” she said, like setting a cup gently down.

“…hic.” LilyBell hiccuped, a bubble popping on a dark pond.

Overstrung, her mind raced like a millwheel, and her eyes pinned Lingcai like a hawk on prey.

—What’s she going to do? The question rolled like thunder.

—No collateral? A wide-area spell? The thought flashed like lightning.

—Just to take me down? The doubt coiled like smoke.

She wilted inside like a leaf in drought, yet the words she’d thrown hung like arrows midair.

Beg now, and she’d lose face like paint peeling, so she kept a mask on like lacquer.

“You mean one of us has to die today?” she asked, toe testing ice over deep water.

Half to save face, half to probe intent, she cast the line like a cautious fisher.

Lingcai took it as a threat, and her small flame of nerve flickered like a candle in wind.

The air drew taut like a bowstring; two cats arched on a fence, fur up and claws out.

Wind spreads gas like a slow tide, so Lingcai had to stall till Scarlet Leaf and Xueyu reached safe ground.

Her composure sat like a still pond, and LilyBell felt the depth like a chill.

Yet Lingcai kept her eyes locked like a latch; if LilyBell bared killing intent, she’d light the fuse like a spark to tinder.

That choice would be a coin tossed in water—two swimmers sinking, racing to surface first.

LilyBell glared back, tight as a knotted cord, and probed by words like a blind cane tapping.

“How big a spell? You won’t blast this place into the sky, right?” Her voice rose like a kite in gusts.

Lingcai couldn’t tell the truth, or LilyBell would flee the circle like a deer from a snare.

“Either way, you can’t get away,” she said, a net already cast over dark water.

“How do you know I can’t?” LilyBell puffed up like a cat, yet her feet slid back like reeds in wind.

Seeing that, Lingcai shifted the board like a Go player; win without a fight if fear will carry her.

Could that scarecrow send this crow flying? The thought perched like a black bird on a branch.

“You can run if you want,” she said, slow as falling snow. “Run as far as you can, and don’t dawdle.”

“I’ll spot you a kilometer. If I can’t catch you, I’ll call it a loss,” she added, a hunter counting with eyes closed.

I’d love it if you ran, she thought, like a storm blowing itself out over the sea.

LilyBell couldn’t hear heart-speech; her legs were jelly like noodles in boiling water.

“…” What do I do… what do I do… her mind frothed like ants on a hot pan.

Lingcai’s stillness was a stone lantern; LilyBell’s compass spun like a leaf in a whirlpool.

Lingcai feared only one thing: LilyBell going all-in like a moth to flame.

Even seeing doubt, she watched like a viper coiled, finger hooked in the ring, fuse cord looped twice like twine.

Lingcai guessed right: LilyBell was set to run like a spooked deer.

But her calves filled with lead, and she couldn’t move, like boots stuck in clay.

Surrender, save your life, she thought, laying down blades like burdens at a shrine.

The Great Sage won’t gut a woman who kneels, right? Hope flickered like a lantern in mist.

Her eyes dropped to the seven-pointed pendant at Lingcai’s feet, a cold star winking on stone.

Right there, she chose, like a coin clinking to the bottom.

LilyBell sank into a crouch like a willow bowing to wind, hands up to show no fight.

To Lingcai, it looked like a hidden seal forming, and cold sweat beaded like dew.

She hooked her finger through the pin and wound the fuse twice, a noose around a promise.

LilyBell slid to both knees like ink spreading, hands up and still as a statue.

It looked like surrender, plain as a kneeling shadow on the floor.

Kneeling, she locked eyes with Lingcai, seconds drip-drip like sand through an hourglass.

One second, two, ten; time crept like a snail over stone.

I’ve surrendered! Isn’t that enough? The thought tasted like bitter tea in her throat.

Then be more humble, she told herself, swallowing pride like a hot coal.

Bearing the sting like nettles, she bent, forehead to floor like a drumbeat. “I surrender—!”

The sudden bow hit Lingcai like a firecracker, and she yanked the pin like a startled bird taking off.

Click!

As the ring came free, sense returned like a slow tide, and she stammered, chasing words like leaves in wind.

“Ah?… you just said, you surrender…”

Pong.

The rest of her sentence drowned in the soft blast, a green flower blooming like night fog.

“…You… surrender… could’ve said… earlier… zzz…”

On that sleepy complaint, both women folded to the ground like petals at dusk.

Good night.