Sister

Not long after, Molly successfully crawled out of the sewer exit.

Outside was a secluded alley. The dim streetlights stretched her shadow long behind her.

Molly looked around and made sure no one was paying attention before thinking:

"Cancel transformation."

The moment she stepped out of the alley, the phone in her pocket chimed. It was a message from Moyan:

[Sis, sorry for replying so late... There was a last-minute arrangement at school, so I might get home later.]

Molly looked at the words on the screen, a faint smile curling at the corner of her lips.

She knew her younger sister would definitely have been taken by the police to give a statement.

Her fingers moved as she replied with two words:

[Okay, be careful.]

By the time she got home, it was only a little past seven in the evening.

Molly changed her shoes and went straight into the kitchen, ready to cook.

The original owner had rarely cooked before. When their parents were around, their mother had always been the one in charge of the kitchen.

Only after their parents left had she gradually learned to take care of herself and Moyan.

The oil in the pan sizzled, and the aroma quickly filled the whole house.

Molly watched the tomato scrambled eggs bubbling in the pan, her gaze becoming slightly distant.

Whenever Mom made this dish, she always added lots of sugar, making it cloyingly sweet.

But Molly made it savory. Moyan had said it tasted better than Mom's.

Sure enough, savory food was the best!

Sweet tofu pudding, sweet tomato scrambled eggs, and things like that just looked strange no matter how she viewed them...

The meal was quickly ready: two dishes and a soup, all of them Moyan's favorites.

Molly carried the dishes to the table, then sat on the sofa in the living room and turned on the television.

A boring variety show was playing, but she had no interest in watching it. Her eyes kept drifting toward the door.

Second by second, time passed as the wall clock ticked away.

At last, footsteps sounded in the hallway, accompanied by faint voices.

Molly immediately stood up, walked to the door, and gently pulled it open.

Outside by the street, two uniformed police officers stood there, one man and one woman. The policewoman was holding a notebook and seemed to be saying something to Moyan.

Moyan had her head lowered, making her expression impossible to see. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and she looked somewhat exhausted.

The two officers gave a few more instructions before turning and leaving.

Moyan walked to the front door, raised her head, and looked at Molly. There was a trace of panic in her eyes, along with emotions too complicated to name.

Her cheeks were flushed, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead. She looked a little unwell.

"What's wrong? Why is your face so red?" Molly reached out and touched her forehead.

The heat against her fingertips was startling.

As if scalded, Moyan abruptly shrank back, her eyes darting away.

"N-Nothing... Maybe I'm just a little hot."

Molly raised an eyebrow but did not expose her lie.

She could tell the little girl had definitely been affected by that purplish-red mist and had yet to recover.

"Come inside first. Dinner's ready, so eat while it's hot." Molly turned and walked inside, placing a pair of slippers by the entrance.

Moyan changed her shoes, followed behind her, and entered the dining room.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the food on the table, but she had little appetite.

She sat down, picked up her chopsticks, and poked at a few mouthfuls of rice, but could not swallow any of it.

Molly sat across from her. Seeing her like this, she asked:

"Why did you get back so late today? Did the school have some event?"

At those words, Moyan seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and hurriedly nodded.

"Mm... The school arranged evening self-study, so I got back late."

Her voice was soft, carrying a barely noticeable tremble.

The smile in Molly's heart deepened as she watched Moyan's cautious appearance.

This little girl really could not lie at all.

She had to be secretly admiring that magical girl named "Pale," right?

Maybe she was even wondering when she would get to see her savior again!

Molly: proud.jpg

Molly did not press her further. She simply picked up a piece of sweet-and-sour pork ribs and placed it in Moyan's bowl.

"Eat more. Build up your strength."

"Thanks, Sis," Moyan said quietly, lowering her head and slowly gnawing on the rib.

The meal passed in silence.

Moyan did not eat much before putting down her chopsticks. She said she was a little tired and wanted to return to her room to rest.

Molly nodded. Only after watching her back disappear through the bedroom door did she withdraw her gaze.

She cleared the dishes, washed them clean, then returned to her own bedroom and prepared to practice swordsmanship.

"Transform!"

"Circle Goddess, activate!"

"Whoosh, whoosh...!"

The broken sword sliced through the air, producing crisp sounds.

Molly's movements were precise, every stance and strike sharp and efficient.

Her breathing was steady. The Warrior's Breathing Technique slowly circulated through her body, a warm current flowing through every limb and bone, easing her physical fatigue.

Sweat soon soaked her back. Beads of perspiration slid down her cheeks from her forehead and dripped onto the floor, spreading into small wet patches.

She did not stop, continuing to repeat those seemingly simple moves.

If the foundation was weak, everything built upon it would crumble.

She knew very well that if she wanted to grow stronger, she had to lay a solid foundation.

Little by little, time passed, and the night outside the window grew deeper.

Elsewhere, in Moyan's bedroom.

The curtains were drawn tightly shut, and the lights were off. Only a little moonlight filtered in from outside, barely illuminating the figure on the bed.

Moyan lay curled on her side, like a pitiful little kitten.

"Sis..."

Her eyes were closed, yet the scenes from the sewer during the day replayed over and over in her mind.

That magical girl in a pure white dress had wielded a broken sword, cutting apart those disgusting tentacles with a valiant bearing.

Her gaze had been resolute and cold, like a ray of light illuminating that dark cultivation room.

And there was her scent, faint, like the smell of sunlight. It was exactly the same as the scent on her sister.

Moyan's heart pounded wildly. She reached out, wanting to grasp something, but caught only the cold bedsheet.

She wanted to call for her sister. She wanted her sister to come and hold her.

But she did not dare.

She was afraid.

She was terribly afraid.

Ever since their parents left, her sister had been her only support.