The alchemy cauldron’s glow dimmed, like a lantern at dawn, once the human outline took shape.

Inside, the storm calmed. On the mirror-still surface, strings of bubbles rose like pearl necklaces.

Lingcai, tongs steady, lifted the Crimson Cherry Blossom Blade that had waited so long. She slid it into the cauldron, as if laying a spirit to rest.

If nothing went wrong, the demon blade’s soul would drift like mist and settle into its new vessel.

Before long, a small round head popped up from the water.

“Puh—ha!”

A little girl with flaxen hair broke the surface, only her head showing, eyes hazy like someone waking from a long winter dream.

Then the coughing hit. Necessary, like spring clearing the last snow—purge the liquid, open the chest, teach the lungs to breathe on their own:

“Cough! Cough cough… cough cough… Achoo!”

She sneezed hard, then wobbled upright in the cauldron. Bare as white jade, slick with water, she stood there in the steam and candlelight for all to see.

“W-wait—hold on!!”

Panic hit Lingcai first, sharp as a dropped cup. Even if she made this one, seeing her appear utterly naked still tightened the heart.

She hurried forward and draped a white bath towel over the girl, wrapping her layer by layer like a neat little dumpling.

“Mama…?”

The new voice chimed from the new body, soft and a bit blurry. Her nostrils flared; she leaned in and sniffed Lingcai like a kitten, then rubbed her cheek against Lingcai’s chest and murmured:

“Mama… Mama…”

She was fragile as a newborn stray, too soft to bear too much pity.

“I’m not your mama…”

Lingcai laughed and winced at once, but she didn’t push the girl away. She didn’t know if this body met spec; a part of her feared she was glass and might shatter at a touch.

Resting in Lingcai’s arms, the blade-girl blinked in confusion for a moment. Then she looked up, doubtful, and tried again:

“...Then… Papa?…”

Not Papa either!

While Lingcai fumbled for words, Scarlet Leaf swooped in. She plucked the girl right out of Lingcai’s hands and buried her in her own full, warm embrace.

“I’m Mama! Mama’s right here! Come on, say Mama—”

Scarlet Leaf’s smiling eyes curved like crescent moons, leaving Lingcai at a loss.

Since when are you Mama?

The blade-girl hesitated, then relaxed against Scarlet Leaf’s chest. Greedy for warmth, she nuzzled like a cat seeking sun.

“Mama. Mama.”

“Too cute. Dangerously cute—”

By reflex, Scarlet Leaf hugged tighter and nudged her cheek to the girl’s lips, teasing like silk across skin.

“Come on, give Mama a kiss—”

“Mama—… mwah.”

Jealousy pricked Lingcai like lemon on a cut. She didn’t know why, but it felt like someone had cut in with a blade and stolen her love.

If they actually kissed, she’d never live it down.

“Leaf! Don’t—”

Scarlet Leaf shifted, scooping the girl from under the arms. She presented that clean, pale face right up to Lingcai.

“This is Papa. Quick, call Papa.”

“Papa—”

Now a little girl, the former blade stretched her arms toward Lingcai without a second thought, smiling sweet and healing as spring sunlight.

“I’m not Papa…” Lingcai’s smile turned even more helpless.

“Papa. Papa.” The girl flicked a glance at Scarlet Leaf for confirmation, then dug in and shouted at Lingcai:

“Papa! Papa!”

No defense could stop that kind of firepower from a pure little soul. Lingcai surrendered, patting her head like smoothing feathers.

“Okay, okay… I’m Papa…”

Only then did Scarlet Leaf realize they hadn’t given her a new name. She tucked the girl against her and rubbed her hair, tone turning solemn:

“From now on, you’re Lingying. We’ll call you Xiaoying, got it?”

“Xiaoying.” Lingying repeated her name, voice mechanical but clear.

Scarlet Leaf leaned into her newfound motherhood and made it official:

“Xiaoying is so good and so clever. Then—who am I?”

Lingying’s memory beat any newborn’s by miles. She answered at once: “You’re Mama.”

“And what should you call her?” Scarlet Leaf turned with Lingying toward Lingcai.

Lingying still didn’t hesitate: “Papa.”

“And you are?”

“I’m Xiaoying.”

“So smart! She’s really so smart! Smart and adorable!”

Scarlet Leaf latched on and wouldn’t let go, snuggling and cuddling like she’d decided then and there to raise this child.

Judging by how fast Lingying learned, Lingcai pegged her around five or six. Her mind was blank as fresh paper, no malice written in.

And when building the body, they’d used both Lingcai’s and Scarlet Leaf’s hair as mediums. Calling her their daughter wasn’t a stretch…

If that’s the case, raising her wouldn’t be impossible…

Wait. Raising a kid before even getting married?

Another headache bloomed behind Lingcai’s eyes.

At this wild turn, Princess Korol and Xueyu stood gaping, jaws nearly hitting the floor.

Alchemy was a bit too magical this time.

“This beats a damn test-tube baby…” Princess Korol muttered under her breath.

“Damn… I want one too…” Xueyu grumbled to herself.

With a live, adorable girl right there, Xueyu saw a perfect bridge to get closer to Lingcai.

Get in good, and someday have her make one for me.

As for the other lock of hair—she could find a few strands on the princess’s pillow while cleaning.

She painted herself a lovely picture.

While Xueyu basked in daydreams, Princess Korol had already stepped up to Lingying. She thought hard about how to smile, then tried it on:

“Come on, call me big sister.”

Lingying stared at Korol’s “smile,” then shrank back into Scarlet Leaf’s arm like a fawn spooked by wind.

Korol tried a few more times. Lingying sealed her lips each time. Korol could only sag and sigh:

“Am I really that scary…?”

…Did she actually think that was a smile?

Xueyu pondered a beat. Yeah, that was probably it.

You seriously have no self-awareness?

Xueyu stepped up and took the spot beside Korol, ready to demonstrate how to handle kids.

Korol retreated a step with tacit grace, watching Xueyu out of the corner of her eye to see the method.

Xueyu loosened her face, rolled her shoulders, hid her face in both hands, then popped it out toward Lingying:

“Boo—look, big sis appears! Boo—gone again!…”

“...”

Lingying watched with an unreadable face, colder than rain on slate. The silence left Xueyu hanging in midair.

“With respect, you look like an idiot,” Korol couldn’t help sniping, gloating just a little.

Heat rose to Xueyu’s cheeks. She wasn’t about to quit. Her expression shifted to warm and motherly; she offered both hands with a sunny smile:

“Come on, call me big sister.”

Lingying thought, opened her mouth, and belted out two syllables that could shake the heavens and make ghosts weep:

“Aun-ty!”