Sugar Paintings and Indulgence at Dusk

As the soul-guided car entered the gates of East Sea Academy, dusk had already draped the entire campus in a veil of gauze. Streetlights flickered on one after another, casting dim yellow halos over the tree-lined path and stretching the eight figures' shadows into uneven lengths, like an abstract paper-cut painting.

Wu Changkong was the first to rise. Without a word, he bent down and lifted the still-unconscious Tang Wulin into his arms, his movements as gentle as if he were holding a fallen leaf.

The fluctuations of Tang Wulin's Bluesilver Grass martial soul formed a pale blue halo around him, brightening and dimming faintly with his breaths like a cocoon being woven. Wu Changkong's icy aura spread almost imperceptibly, forming a thin layer of frost mist around them that shut out any possible disturbance from the outside.

"I'm taking him to the faculty dormitories!" With that, he vanished into the shadows at the end of the tree-lined path. The frost-white hem of his clothes flashed beneath the streetlights, then disappeared.

The others dispersed in twos and threes. Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi slung their arms around each other's shoulders as they swayed toward the boys' dormitory, their shadows tangled together on the ground until they were impossible to distinguish.

Before leaving, Xie Xie still remembered to wiggle his brows at Yun Zhiyu. His lips moved soundlessly; judging from the shape of his mouth, he was probably saying some nonsense like, "Don't forget the auction." Gu Yue swept him with a cold glance, and he sheepishly shrank his neck before chasing after Zhang Yangzi's retreating figure.

Wei Xiaofeng walked alone at the very end. The habits of his Azure Shadow Serpent martial soul made him prefer the shadows. His footsteps were so light that he made almost no sound upon the fallen leaves, slipping through the dormitory doors like a true shadow.

When Yun Zhiyu returned to her dormitory, she nearly collapsed straight into bed. The hollow feeling after Xuanyuan Sword returned to her body, the backlash from unsealing her Torch Dragon Bloodline, and the soul power she had overdrawn while fighting the Thousand-Year Purple-Gold Python—those three crushing burdens piled together and sank her consciousness into a pitch-black deep sea. She did not even have time to change out of her mud- and blood-stained school uniform before curling up beneath the blankets, her breathing soon becoming long and even.

Outside the window, the light shifted from gold to orange, then from orange to crimson, before finally sinking into a gray-blue shade between day and night. Dusk came silently to East Sea City, like an uninvited visitor who lightly knocked on the window frame, then patiently waited for an answer.

Yun Zhiyu woke in that gray-blue light.

Her consciousness slowly rose from the deep sea like a fish swimming upstream, passing through layers upon layers of dream fragments before finally breaking the surface. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the familiar crack in the ceiling—the one caused last week when the aura of her Xuanyuan Sword martial soul had accidentally leaked out during meditation.

She blinked, and her pupils gradually focused in the dim light. Her body still retained the numb weakness of sleep, as though invisible threads had wrapped around her all night. Her limbs felt so heavy that they barely obeyed her, but three or four tenths of her soul power had already recovered. Xuanyuan Sword gave a lazy hum within her spiritual sea, like a beast stretching after waking.

Yun Zhiyu propped herself up on the edge of the bed and rubbed the sore back of her neck. The sky outside told her it was roughly dusk, two or three hours after she had fallen asleep. She remembered Uncle Mu Chen's instructions, tomorrow afternoon's Myriad Treasures Pavilion auction, and the invitation still lying in a drawer at the Forging Masters Association.

She needed to go pick it up.

She threw off the blankets and stepped barefoot onto the cold tiles. Soul power circulated faintly through the soles of her feet, driving away the last trace of drowsiness.

The mud on her uniform had dried into dark brown crusts, carrying the distinctive smell of the Ascension Platform—a mixture of humus and blood. She frowned, then rummaged out a clean set of casual clothes from her wardrobe: a moon-white short jacket and dark teal trousers, the most ordinary outfit for a young girl in East Sea City.

After taking a bath and changing clothes, she turned Xuanyuan Sword into a streak of light and drew it into her palm, then pushed open the door.

The moment the door opened, she froze.

Gu Yue stood in the corridor with her back against the opposite wall. Her black hair carried an almost translucent softness in the dusk light. She was not wearing her school uniform, but a light gray hooded jacket with the zipper pulled only to her chest, revealing a white high-necked shirt beneath.

Her hands were tucked into her pockets, and her posture held its usual lazy air, like a cat curled upon a windowsill, indifferent and distant toward everything around her.

Yet when she raised her eyes and looked at Yun Zhiyu, something quietly melted within those black eyes as deep as ancient pools.

"Is something wrong?" Yun Zhiyu asked instinctively, her voice still hoarse from sleep.

Gu Yue shook her head. The movement was slight, and her silver hair swayed gently, tracing a soft curve against her neck.

"You're going out?" she asked, her tone as calm as if stating an already known fact.

Yun Zhiyu nodded. "I'm going to the Forging Masters Association to get the invitation."

"I'll go with you!"

It was neither a question nor a request, but a statement that seemed almost self-evident.

Gu Yue pushed herself away from the wall and crossed to Yun Zhiyu's side in a few steps. They stood close enough to catch the faint fragrance in each other's hair—a scent of grass and trees, like moss deep in a forest after rain. It formed a strange complement to the scorching sensation unique to Yun Zhiyu's lightning-attributed soul power.

Yun Zhiyu opened her mouth, wanting to say, "You don't need to trouble yourself," but swallowed the words. Gu Yue's profile looked especially gentle in the dusk light. The aloof pride that normally kept everyone at a distance seemed to have had a thin layer of ice melted away by the setting sun, revealing something warm beneath.

"...All right."

The two walked side by side down the dormitory steps. East Sea Academy at dusk was shrouded in a honey-colored glow. The streetlights along the tree-lined path had just come on, intertwining with the final streak of sunset in the western sky to create an ambiguous hue. The noisy bustle of dinner from the cafeteria drifted over from afar, mixed with the slight tremor of soul-guided cars crossing speed bumps, like a lazy street ballad.

They had only just rounded the flowerbed in front of the dormitory when a streak of sword light swept diagonally over from the lawn beside them.

Wu Nianbing was practicing her sword.

The Icebound Frost Sword became a cold streak of flowing light in her hand. The path of Frostmark Sword Shadow traced translucent arcs through the twilight, and with every slash, a thin layer of frost formed over the grass. Her posture stood straight as a pine tree. Her moon-white training clothes fluttered softly in the evening breeze, and her hair rose with the flow of her sword, exposing a stretch of fair neck.

Skyfrost Mist Shadow.

She gave a low shout, and her second soul ring lit beneath her feet. The frost patterns on her sword abruptly thickened, turning into a hazy mist that spread in all directions. Wherever the mist passed, the dew on the lawn froze into ice crystals that sparkled beneath the streetlights like someone had scattered a handful of stars.

"Nianbing." Yun Zhiyu stopped and called out.

The sword light halted abruptly. Wu Nianbing withdrew her sword and turned around, several crystalline beads of sweat clinging to her temples and refracting rainbow-like colors in the sunset. Her cheeks were faintly flushed from exertion. The serenity beyond her age that she usually carried had been replaced by a vivid vitality, like an ink painting suddenly touched with bright color.

"Sister Yun? Gu Yue?" She breathed slightly harder as the Icebound Frost Sword turned into a streak of light and returned to her palm. "Where are you going?"

"To the Forging Masters Association." Yun Zhiyu shook her wrist, the dark-gold bracelet gleaming faintly in the dusk. "To pick up the auction invitations. Want to come?"

Wu Nianbing nodded almost without hesitation. "Wait for me to change."

She turned and ran toward the girls' dormitory. Her moon-white figure looked like a crane spreading its wings in the dusk, quickly disappearing around the corner of the stairs.

Yun Zhiyu and Gu Yue waited in place for around five minutes. When they saw her again, she had changed into a lotus-purple dress beneath an off-white knitted cardigan, her hair simply tied into a ponytail to reveal her smooth forehead.

"Let's go." She naturally linked arms with Yun Zhiyu's other arm, and the three walked shoulder to shoulder toward the academy gates.

The Forging Masters Association stood on a quiet street in East Sea City's commercial district. Its exterior was so antiquated it seemed almost clumsy, with ivy climbing over its gray-white stone walls and the steps at the entrance worn smooth as mirrors by countless feet. Yun Zhiyu made her way through the front hall with practiced ease, then headed directly for the president's office on the second floor under the astonished gaze of the old man on duty.

Mu Chen was not there. Only a note lay pressed atop the invitations, its handwriting so hurried that it seemed written while running: "Zhiyu, Wulin, collect them yourselves. —Chen"

Two dark-gold invitations rested there, their gilded patterns flowing with a subdued luster beneath the lights. Yun Zhiyu put one into the storage space of her bracelet and held the other in her hand, her fingertips feeling the paper's distinctive rough texture.

"Got them?" Wu Nianbing leaned over. The hem of her lotus-purple dress brushed across the back of Yun Zhiyu's hand, carrying the softness unique to fabric.

"Mm." Yun Zhiyu put away the invitation and turned to look out the window.

"It's still early. Want to browse around?"

East Sea City's evening market was at its liveliest at this hour. Though the little street where the Forging Masters Association stood was not as bustling as the main commercial district, it possessed a warm, everyday liveliness of its own. All kinds of stalls lined the street—sugar paintings, dough figurines, acrobatics, snacks. Hawking cries and laughter intertwined like a pot of rich soup at a rolling boil.

Wu Nianbing's eyes lit up the instant she stepped into the market.

She was usually far too quiet. As Wu Changkong's daughter and the inheritor of the Frost Sword martial soul, she bore a weight utterly unsuited to her age. But amid the noisy warmth of the marketplace at dusk, that burden seemed temporarily lifted, revealing the lively and curious soul that should have belonged to a seven- or eight-year-old girl.

"That one!" She pointed at a sugar painting stall on the corner, her voice carrying a faint, barely noticeable excitement.

The stall owner was a gray-haired old man. The copper spoon in his hand flew over a bluestone slab as amber-colored sugar syrup melted into flowing golden threads under the heat. With a turn of his wrist, it gradually solidified into a phoenix spreading its wings. Every filament of its tail feathers was clear, and it gleamed translucently in the sunset like a fragile, exquisite work of art.

"What would the young lady like?" the old man asked with a smile.

"I want that one!" Wu Nianbing pointed to a finished sample on the stall—a coiled dragon. Its whiskers flowed elegantly, its scales were distinct, and it swayed slightly on its bamboo skewer as though ready to ride the wind away.

"Coming right up!" The old man scooped another spoonful of syrup. "A dragon, five Federation credits."

Yun Zhiyu was just about to pay when Gu Yue beat her to it, placing a silver coin on the stall. The motion was entirely natural, as if she had done it countless times. As she withdrew her hand, she casually tucked a windblown lock of Yun Zhiyu's hair behind her ear.

The gesture was so light, light as the flutter of a butterfly's wings, yet it made Yun Zhiyu pause.

"Thank you!" Wu Nianbing took the sugar dragon and eagerly bit into it. Amber sugar crumbs clung to the corner of her lips, but she did not notice at all. She simply narrowed her eyes, revealing a satisfied smile.

That smile looked especially soft beneath the dusk light, like a plum blossom suddenly opening in winter, carrying warmth that was out of place yet deeply moving.

As Yun Zhiyu watched her, someone suddenly came to mind.

Yun Zhishu.

Her younger sister, the biological daughter of Yun Ming and Yali. She should have been attending class somewhere in Shrek Academy right now, or reading some heavy tome beneath the shelter of the Tree of Life.

That girl was lively and adorable, like an enthusiastic little sun. Yet Yun Zhiyu remembered secretly taking Zhishu out of the academy to buy a candied hawthorn skewer at Shrek City's night market. She had narrowed her eyes exactly like this, with sugar crumbs all around her mouth, yet smiled as if she possessed the entire world. She thought of the girl whose eyes were filled only with swords, Yuan En's pale gray face, Li Zhi's chubby smile, and Na'er's timidity.

"Zhiyu?" Wu Nianbing's voice pulled her back from her memories. "Do you want some?"

She waved the sugar painting in her hand, its dragon's head already half eaten. The amber sugar gleamed warmly beneath the setting sun.

Yun Zhiyu smiled and shook her head. "You eat it."

The three continued onward. Gu Yue walked beside Yun Zhiyu, her black hair appearing and disappearing amid the crowd like a crescent moon half-hidden by clouds. Her gaze fell upon Yun Zhiyu from time to time, carrying an indescribable focus, as if the surrounding clamor had nothing to do with her and only the person before her was real, worthy of watching.

A burst of thunderous gongs and drums sounded from a street corner. The three followed the noise and saw a troupe of wandering performers putting on a show. A girl dressed in red was performing a foot-juggling act, lying with her feet raised and steadily balancing a blue-and-white porcelain bowl on her toes. The water inside did not ripple in the slightest. A crowd of spectators had gathered around her, their cheers rising one after another.

Wu Nianbing squeezed to the front of the crowd, tilting her head up and staring unblinkingly at the spinning porcelain bowl. Her sugar dragon was already gone, but she still held the bamboo skewer in her hand as if it were a tiny sword.

"Great!" When the girl tossed the porcelain bowl into the air and caught it steadily again with her toes, Wu Nianbing could not help clapping and shouting. The hem of her lotus-purple dress lifted softly with the movement.

Yun Zhiyu stood behind her, the corners of her lips unconsciously rising. At some point, Gu Yue had bought three bags of candied roasted chestnuts. The paper bag emitted a warm, sweet fragrance in her palm. She lowered her head, her slender fingers peeling away the dark-brown shell of a chestnut to reveal the golden flesh inside, then naturally held it to Yun Zhiyu's lips.

Yun Zhiyu instinctively opened her mouth and took it. The chestnut's soft texture and sweet fragrance melted over her tongue, carrying a warmth that made her feel safe. She paused, then turned to look at Gu Yue. Yet Gu Yue had already lowered her head and continued peeling a second chestnut, looking so focused that she seemed to be conducting some intricate soul-guided experiment.

"...Thank you," Yun Zhiyu said indistinctly, chestnut crumbs clinging to the corner of her lips.

Gu Yue glanced at her without speaking. She merely reached out and gently wiped away the crumbs at Yun Zhiyu's lips with her thumb. The gesture was too natural, natural as breathing, yet it left Yun Zhiyu stunned once again.

She remembered Gu Yue saying, "I could have been faster," when Yun Zhiyu had taken the Amethyst-Gold Python's tail strike head-on in the Ascension Platform. She remembered the flash of concern in Gu Yue's eyes when she said, "Don't take it head-on next time," in the soul-guided car. She remembered that now, amid the lively dusk market, this person was peeling chestnuts for her, wiping her mouth, and carrying all the odds and ends that she had not had time to put into her storage space.

Was it because of the Torch Dragon Bloodline?

Yun Zhiyu asked herself that inwardly. Although she had hidden her Torch Dragon Bloodline well, Gu Yue possessed the Silver Dragon King's origin and powerful spiritual strength, giving her an almost instinctive sensitivity to energy fluctuations. Perhaps she had long since noticed something. The resonance between dragon bloodlines might have made Gu Yue feel an almost familial closeness toward her.

The explanation seemed reasonable. Yun Zhiyu nodded and silently accepted it in her heart, never noticing the half-second Gu Yue's fingertips lingered after wiping her lips, nor the fleeting tenderness in those black eyes beneath her hair, tenderness that bordered on indulgence.

The performance ended, and the crowd gradually dispersed. Still unsatisfied, Wu Nianbing turned around, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "There's more ahead! I can smell roasted sweet potatoes!"

She grabbed Yun Zhiyu's hand and ran forward, her lotus-purple skirt darting through the crowd like a lively fish.

Gu Yue followed behind them. Her cold eyes carried a soft halo beneath the sunset. She still held the bag of unpeeled candied chestnuts, as well as a package of dragon beard candy Yun Zhiyu had casually handed to her earlier.

The roasted sweet potato stall stood at the end of the street. Its owner was a plump middle-aged woman whose smile seemed molded into place, warmly welcoming everyone she saw. The sweet potatoes roasted inside an iron barrel until they dripped with syrup. Caramel-colored sugar seeped from their split skins, sizzling under the charcoal fire, their fragrance drifting half a street away.

"Three." Gu Yue stepped forward and placed a gold coin on the stall. "Choose soft ones."

The woman smiled until her eyes narrowed into slits. She used iron tongs to rummage around the bottom of the barrel and selected three sweet potatoes with charred skins that sank at the slightest squeeze, packing them separately into paper bags. Yun Zhiyu took hers, her fingertips reddening slightly from the heat, yet she could not bear to let go. She merely shifted it from hand to hand and tore open the crisp, scorched skin with her teeth.

Golden sweet potato flesh was exposed to the air, steaming and carrying a simple sweetness. Yun Zhiyu took a bite and immediately hissed from the heat, tears of reflexive irritation welling in her eyes. Yet she could not bear to spit it out. She only held her mouth open and fanned at it with her hand.

Gu Yue watched her, then suddenly gave a soft laugh.

The laugh was light, like a spring breeze brushing across the surface of a deep pool, sending out a faint ripple before vanishing. She stepped closer, took the sweet potato from Yun Zhiyu's hand, peeled away the hottest outer skin with her fingertips to reveal the slightly cooler flesh inside, then handed it back.

"Slow down," she said, a softness in her voice that even she had not noticed.

Wu Nianbing watched from the side. The keen perception granted by her Icebound Frost Sword martial soul allowed her to sense that something about the atmosphere was unusual. But she said nothing, merely lowering her head to focus on her own sweet potato, while a knowing curve quietly formed at her lips.

The three squatted on the stone steps at the end of the street, watching the last streak of sunlight sink behind the distant buildings. The sweet aroma of roasted sweet potatoes filled the air. The bag of candied chestnuts rested between two of them, and crumbs of dragon beard candy clung to Yun Zhiyu's sleeve before Gu Yue lightly brushed them away with her fingertips.

"Tomorrow's auction!" Wu Nianbing suddenly said, anticipation in her voice.

"Sister Yun, what do you think will be there?"

"I don't know." Yun Zhiyu spoke indistinctly as she bit into her sweet potato. "Uncle Mu Chen said there would be a few things we could use, but he didn't say what they were."

"Soul bones?" Wu Nianbing's eyes brightened.

"Not likely," Gu Yue replied calmly. Her black eyes darkened slightly as she held the final peeled chestnut to Yun Zhiyu's lips.

"Although the Myriad Treasures Pavilion auction is not low-class, the truly headline items would not appear in a public session like this. It will probably be rare metals, advanced soul-guided devices, or..."

She paused, her gaze falling upon the silver-white bracelet around Yun Zhiyu's wrist. She did not continue.

"Or what?" Wu Nianbing pressed.

"Or," Yun Zhiyu said as she swallowed the chestnut and took over, "materials related to dragon bloodlines. Battle Armor components."

As she spoke, her gaze briefly met Gu Yue's. A glimmer flashed deep within the latter's black eyes, like a star rising from the bottom of a deep pool before sinking back into stillness.

Dusk completely gave way to night. The streetlights became bright and clear, casting the three girls' shadows upon the stone steps and tangling them into a blurred pool of ink. Cries of vendors packing up drifted from afar. The gongs and drums of the performers faded into the distance. For the last time, the old sugar-painting man's copper spoon swept over the bluestone slab, forming a butterfly with spread wings that was bought by some fortunate child.

"Let's go back." Yun Zhiyu stood and brushed sweet potato skin crumbs from her trousers. "We have to get up early tomorrow."

Gu Yue and Wu Nianbing rose at the same time. The three walked side by side on the way back, their shadows stretched into different lengths beneath the streetlights like a moving silhouette painting. Gu Yue walked beside Yun Zhiyu, her hair stirring softly in the night breeze and occasionally brushing across Yun Zhiyu's hand with a faint coolness.

While they waited at one intersection for the soul-guided traffic light, Gu Yue suddenly spoke, her voice so soft that she seemed to be talking to herself. "Were you... happy today?"

Yun Zhiyu turned toward her. Light poured down from the streetlamp overhead, cutting shadows across Gu Yue's profile. Under the strong light, those black eyes took on an almost translucent dark-brown hue, like precious amber preserving ancient secrets.

"I was!" Yun Zhiyu heard herself say, the corners of her lips rising unconsciously. "Thank you, and Nianbing too."

Wu Nianbing linked arms with her from the other side. The hem of her lotus-purple skirt brushed against Yun Zhiyu's trouser leg with the softness unique to cloth. "I should be thanking you two. It's been... a long time since I've gone out like this."

She did not say how long "a long time" was, but Yun Zhiyu understood.

As Wu Changkong's daughter, with her mother having died when she was young and as the inheritor of the Frost Sword martial soul, she carried far more than others her age. Today's brief, almost luxurious indulgence might have been one of the few moments in her memory that belonged to a "girl" rather than a "soul master."

The light turned green, and the three crossed the street with the crowd. Gu Yue fell half a step behind, her gaze remaining fixed on Yun Zhiyu's back. Complex emotions surged in her black eyes—indulgence, fondness, and a protective devotion bordering on obsession, one that even she herself did not fully understand.

It wasn't because of the Torch Dragon Bloodline.

She said it silently in her heart without making a sound. The night breeze lifted her hair like a crescent moon half-covered by clouds, quietly watching that moon-white figure ahead.

It was only because you were you.

Perhaps she would not speak that answer aloud until much later. But for now, in the night of East Sea City, amid the lingering warmth of the marketplace, she simply followed quietly, carrying the unfinished bag of candied chestnuts, as well as that person's dragon beard candy, roasted sweet potato paper bag, and every trivial yet warm burden.

That was enough.