Tiyi, dressed in the same academy uniform dress as Qingruo, walked with her hands clasped before her, her braid swaying on her shoulder with each step, toward the Student Council President surrounded by drifting blossoms, elevated above all.

Somehow, the garden seemed to exist solely for her.

“Senior Qingruo.” After a night of inner turmoil, Tiyi now appeared more composed and dignified.

She didn’t call her “master”—of course, that was absolutely unthinkable—nor “older sister.” It should have displeased Qingruo, but in this situation, “senior” was reasonable.

Yet, addressing her own student as “senior,” when she was years older—only Tiyi knew that feeling.

“Are you a student here?” Qingruo’s eyes shimmered with a spring-like glow under the night breeze. She showed no surprise, but her steady gaze at Tiyi betrayed inner doubt. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.”

Qingruo said “I don’t think” because the academy had countless students, including commissioned trainees. Everyone knew her, but she couldn’t know them all.

“Senior, I’m a second-year transfer student. My paperwork is still under review.” Tiyi cleverly twisted the truth; technically, when Teacher Yedi proposed her transfer, the process had begun.

Qingruo re-examined Tiyi head to toe. In the same uniform, Tiyi’s figure remained strikingly alluring, yet her demeanor now held scholarly grace—a stark contrast to last night.

Qingruo smiled slightly. “Then you surely don’t think it’s normal for a new transfer to frequently enter the strongest swordsmanship teacher’s room at night, dressed so provocatively?”

Her smile carried sternness, even a trace of anger.

“Actually… I’m Teacher Yedi’s younger sister.” Tiyi bowed again, as if sealing this new bond.

“Sister?” Even the poised Qingruo couldn’t hide her surprise this time.

“Well… yes, but only a very distant cousin. I transferred here on Teacher Yedi’s recommendation. He’s also given me guidance.” Tiyi explained gracefully.

Teacher Yedi’s distant cousin? No wonder her skills were sharp. Qingruo disliked nepotism, but last night—when Tiyi had pulled her down and pinned her—proved her qualifications. Few in the academy could manage that.

“The reason I enter Teacher Yedi’s room is my transfer isn’t finalized. I can’t stay in the dorms. Teacher Yedi didn’t trust me alone in the town outside—I heard its security is poor—so he let me stay there temporarily…” Tiyi continued.

“Staying there?” Qingruo’s icy tone sharpened with displeasure.

“Teacher Yedi isn’t there!” Tiyi rushed to explain. “Please don’t doubt his honor. He trains deep in the academy’s rear mountains every night, only returning by day to prepare for classes. I’m alone there at night. Ask him yourself, Senior, if you doubt me.”

Rest assured, no matter how Qingruo questioned Teacher Yedi, his answer would match hers.

“Oh? So… it’s like that?” Qingruo’s gaze softened, yet that warmth made Tiyi shiver.

She stared until Tiyi looked away. Under that gaze, Tiyi’s resolve weakened.

Boys grow stronger around those they like; girls grow weaker… Tiyi dismissed the thought. She wasn’t weak—just physiologically affected.

“Y-yes. It breaks academy rules, but Teacher acted for my safety. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding…” Tiyi bowed again. Compared to kneeling at Qingruo’s knees yesterday, this was nothing.

Silence stretched. Bowing low, Tiyi grew nervous. Her story wasn’t brilliant, but flawless.

“Finished with your tale?” Qingruo’s voice turned unexpectedly cold.

“Huh?” Tiyi shivered, racking her brain for flaws but finding none. What was wrong?

“You schemed all night to weave this for me? I hoped for a more thrilling performance.” Her dignified words held casual reproach, yet everything seemed to unfold as she’d predicted.

Qingruo’s fingers lifted Tiyi’s chin with gentle force, making her look up. Qingruo stepped closer, closing the distance instantly.

Tiyi inhaled Qingruo’s fragrance—different from yesterday’s post-exercise musk. It smelled like a sister suppressing desire. The scent scattered her thoughts.

What’s happening? Does she not believe me?

Wait, stay calm. Disbelief is natural. I have countermeasures. I… this scent…

“Senior Qingruo, I—I’m telling the truth…” Don’t babble. Stay calm.

“Oh? Is that so?” Qingruo didn’t press words; she acted.

“Senior…” Tiyi’s body thrummed with unwanted anticipation. Reason warned against closeness—it’d weaken her defense—so she reached to block Qingruo.

But Qingruo seized her wrist and shoved. Tiyi didn’t resist. Better than a stranger’s ambush from behind. This left room to argue. Besides, she remembered the contract…

“Ah!”

Tiyi cried out, a sweet, unwilling sound.

Qingruo pinned her against the flower corridor’s open archway. Unexpectedly, thorny vines of light—woven from Sacred Power—bound Tiyi’s hands behind her back to the stone pillar.

“Sacred Word: Thorns of Lies,” a soft, warm-breathed whisper echoed in Tiyi’s ear.