“Mmm…”

  A low, contented moan, a sound of pure, unadulterated bliss, echoed through the vast, sun-drenched solarium of Lily’s mansion.

  “Yes, right there… ahh, yes, just a little to the left…”

  The voice, a soft, breathy purr, continued, "Right over there… ahh, yes, there … ahhh!" A final, sharp sigh of pleasure filled the air.

  “Please don’t make it weird, Miss Lily.”

  Serra’s voice was a strained, professional squeak. She stood over a plush, velvet-draped massage table, her hands working with a practiced, efficient rhythm on the shoulders of the figure lying face-down. The journalist’s usual, practical attire was gone, replaced by a frilly, black-and-white maid’s outfit that was so perfectly, comically stereotypical, it could only have been chosen by Lily herself. Her face was a mask of pure, concentrated effort, her brow furrowed as she tried to ignore the deeply uncomfortable sounds her new employer was making.

  “Shuush,” Lily’s voice, muffled by the headrest, was a low, imperious command. “Shut up and continue with your massage. Thou art surprisingly good at this.”

  “Thank… you?” Serra replied, her voice a hesitant, confused question mark.

  A short distance away, at a small, glass-topped table overlooking the mansion’s private bamboo garden, Yukari paused, her teacup halfway to her lips. She looked at Raito, who was in the middle of taking a bite of a croissant, and raised a single, bewildered eyebrow.

  “I’ll admit, even for us, that was weird,” Yukari commented, finally putting her fork down, her appetite suddenly, and completely, gone.

  “Should we… give them some space?” Raito whispered, his own mouth full of pastry, his gaze fixed on the bizarre scene.

  “Oh, I’m weird?!” Lily’s head shot up from the massage table, her blonde hair a wild, disheveled mess, her face, free of its usual makeup, flushed with a sudden, indignant anger. She whirled around, sitting bolt upright, the silk sheet clutched to her chest.

  “What about you two rabbits?!” she shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger at the couple. “Being so loud almost every night in my guest room! I guess thy ‘night exercise’ is far more important than my own stress management!”

  Pfft! Raito exploded, a fine mist of tea and croissant crumbs erupting from his mouth. He doubled over, coughing and sputtering, his face instantly turning a deep, shocked crimson.

  Yukari’s own face went from pale porcelain to a brilliant, burning scarlet in a fraction of a second. “We are not that loud!” she snapped, her voice a high-pitched, defensive squeak. “And… and we didn’t do it every night! You are exaggerating!”

  “I am not exaggerating anything!” Lily shot back, her voice a dramatic wail of pure, theatrical suffering. “I am a victim! A victim of thy direct, auditory sound poisoning! I haven't slept a full night since thou hast invaded my home!”

  “Then perhaps you should get better soundproofing, O great Celebrity Extraordinaire!” Yukari retorted, her earlier embarrassment now replaced by a familiar, competitive fire. “What are you even so stressed about, anyway?”

  “Thou!” Lily shrieked, leaping to her feet on the massage table, a small, furious, and very under-dressed goddess of chaos. She pointed a trembling, accusatory finger, her aim shifting from Yukari to Raito and back again. “You two! Thou art the source of all my stress!”

  In the corner of the room, Serra, who had been silently trying to disappear into the expensive wallpaper, just whimpered, her face buried in her hands.

  Then, Lily shifted her gaze, her furious glare landing on the small, whimpering figure in the corner. She pointed a dramatic, imperious finger.

  “And thou!” she commanded. “Why didst thou stop moving? Continue with the massage!”

  “But Miss Lily, I didn’t come here…” Serra protested, her voice a small, muffled, and utterly defeated thing.

  “No buts!” Lily snapped, her patience completely gone. “Thou wert jobless, wert thou not? I have graciously hired thee as my personal maid! Be grateful!” Her voice rose, regaining its theatrical, booming quality as she struck a new, magnificent pose. “From this day forth, thou art not ‘journalist extraordinaire’! Thou art… ‘Maid Extraordinaire’!” Her declaration left absolutely no room for argument.

  A small, quiet sob escaped Serra. This was not how she had envisioned her day. She had come here, hoping for a letter of recommendation from her, hoping the star might put in a good word for her, for a job at a rival paper. But before she could even state her case, Lily had taken one look at her desperate, unemployed state, shoved a frilly maid’s outfit into her arms, and “hired” her on the spot.

  She sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye, and shuffled back to the massage table, her fingers resuming their reluctant, but surprisingly skilled, work.

  Raito and Yukari, just looked at the scene, then at each other. They couldn't help it. A shared, silent, and deeply sympathetic look passed between them. They both turned to the sobbing, frilly-clad journalist and gave a small, subtle thumbs-up.

  Hang in there.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  The sound, a sharp, polite rap on the grand front door of the mansion, was like a pane of glass shattering. Lily, who had just settled back onto the massage table, jolted upright, the silk sheet pooling around her waist.

  “Who is it?!” she shouted, her voice a high-pitched, furious shriek. “Can I not have a single moment of repose?!”

  A familiar, booming laugh, cheerful and utterly unbothered by her rage, echoed from the other side of the door. “It’s me, Bob! Are the kids here? Hohoho!”

  Lily let out a long, theatrical groan, her head falling back in defeat. “Yes, unfortunately, they are here!” she called out, her voice now a desperate, pleading wail. “And if you are here to take them away, please, do it faster!”

  “You’re too dramatic,” Yukari commented, a fond, weary smile on her face as she pushed herself up from the table. “We are fine guests in this humble abode.” She shot a teasing, sidelong glance at Lily, who just glared back.

  Raito, shaking his head with an amused sigh, walked with Yukari to the grand foyer. They opened the heavy door, and just as expected, Bob’s massive, cheerful frame completely filled the opening, blocking out the bright morning sun.

  “Bob! Do you need something?” Raito asked, his smile genuine.

  “Hohoho, there you are, kids!” Bob beamed, his gaze sweeping over their relaxed, indoor attire. “Just wanted to say, the next destination for my caravan has been decided! We’re going to Zarateph! For resupply, and… for a joyous occasion.” He winked, a gesture so unsubtle it made his entire face crinkle. “Are you two in?”

  Raito and Yukari looked at each other. A new land. A new adventure. A single, shared, and brilliant glint of excitement sparked in their eyes.

  “Of course we are,” they said in perfect, eager unison.

  “Good!” Bob clapped his massive hands together. “Then in a week, we shall head out! Be ready!” He turned, as if to leave, then paused, a look of profound, almost comical realization on his face. “Oh, almost forgot! Where are my manners!”

  Raito and Yukari exchanged a look of confusion. What more could there be?

  Bob just chuckled, his eyes twinkling. He moved his massive body aside from the doorway, revealing a second, much smaller figure who had been patiently waiting behind him.

  She was an Elephant Sacred, her kind, gentle face framed by large, soft ears. She wore simple, comfortable traveling robes, and her dark, intelligent eyes held a warmth that was so familiar, so profoundly comforting, it made Raito’s heart stop.

  He froze. The playful banter, the excitement for a new journey, it all evaporated in an instant. He just stared, his mind a sudden, silent void, unable to process the impossible, beautiful, and utterly beloved face from his past.

  “Miss… Yinzi?” he whispered, the name a raw, incredulous breath.

  The woman’s face broke into the same gentle, maternal smile that had defined his entire childhood. The same smile he had last seen on a quiet, humble village in ruhong.

  “Kun,” she said, her voice the same soft, steady, and impossibly kind melody he had held in his memory for so long.

  He moved. He didn't walk. He ran. In a single, unguarded, and utterly joyous burst of pure, childish relief, he closed the distance between them and threw his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder in a tight, desperate hug, all his newfound strength, all his hard-won confidence, melting away in that single, simple embrace.

  “Miss Yinzi!” he said again, his voice muffled, a small, happy sob catching in his throat.

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  She just laughed, a soft, warm sound, and her hand came up to pat his back, her touch as firm and as reassuring as it had always been.

  “Kun,” she said again, her voice full of a quiet, profound affection. “Are you eating well?”

  “What are you doing here, Miss Yinzi?” Raito asked, his voice a rapid-fire barrage of questions as he finally, reluctantly, pulled back from the hug, though he still kept a grip on her arm, as if afraid she might disappear. “Are you alone? How did you end up meeting Bob? Can you make me a honey-apple pie?”

  Miss Yinzi just laughed again, her kind eyes crinkling at the corners. She gently pried Raito’s fingers from her robe. “Alright, alright, one by one, Kun,” she said, her voice full of that familiar, gentle patience.

  “First, I came here for the Grand Play. But,” she added with a small, self-deprecating sigh, “it appears I have mistaken the date, and I heard it was cancelled.”

  “Second,” she continued, “I am not alone. I am here with a trustworthy helper. He knows you very well.”

  “Third, I met Bob at the marketplace. I got a little lost while looking for our inn and got separated from that helper. This kind gentleman,” she nodded towards Bob, “recognized me from back then and kindly brought me here.”

  “And lastly,” she said, her smile turning a little teasing as she looked at Raito, “sure, I can make you one, if we have a kitchen. But what about the young lady over there?” Her gaze shifted, landing on Yukari, who had been watching the reunion with a warm, quiet smile. “I’m pretty sure I taught her how to bake a honey-apple pie. Precisely my recipe.”

  Raito didn’t even hesitate. He immediately shook his head, his expression one of profound, theatrical despair. “Her cooking skill hasn’t improved,” he declared, his voice a low, mournful stage-whisper. “I think it might have gone down.”

  “Hey!!!” Yukari’s shout was a sharp, indignant bark of protest.

  “Oh, dear,” Miss Yinzi said, clicking her tongue, though her eyes were twinkling with amusement. “Then maybe I should take her back to basics.”

  “Hello, Miss Yinzi,” Yukari said, stepping forward, her earlier irritation forgotten as she gave the older woman a polite, respectful bow.

  “Hello, young miss,” Miss Yinzi replied, her own smile widening as she looked at Yukari, her gaze full of a genuine, profound warmth. “Did you take that first step?”

  Her eyes then drifted down, landing on Yukari’s left hand. She saw the simple, elegant silver wedding band nestled perfectly beside the glittering, sakura-shaped diamond ring of her Core. Miss Yinzi’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated shock, before it bloomed into something even warmer, something full of a quiet, profound joy.

  “Pardon me,” she said, her voice a soft, almost reverent murmur. “It appears more than the first step has been done.”

  Yukari blushed, a faint, lovely pink rising in her cheeks as her hand instinctively went to Raito’s. “It’s all thanks to you, Miss Yinzi,” she said, her voice a quiet, heartfelt thing. She stepped forward, and the two women embraced, a hug that was a world of unspoken words, of shared journeys and a quiet, profound gratitude.

  “By the way, who is this helper?” Raito asked again, his curiosity now piqued, his gaze darting past Miss Yinzi as if expecting someone to be standing right behind her.

  “Oh, dear.” Miss Yinzi’s warm smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of genuine, maternal concern. “I hope he can find his way around these streets. I got separated from him, you see.”

  As if summoned by her worry, a sound from the sky, faint at first, then growing rapidly, impossibly, louder, cut through the peaceful morning. It was a high-pitched, dopplering wail, a sound of pure, unadulterated, and very familiar terror.

  “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

  BOOM!

  The sound was a deafening, concussive crash, like a small meteor striking the earth. The entire mansion penthouse shook, the ornate decorations rattling on their shelves. A cloud of dust and pulverized marble billowed up from the center of Lily’s pristine, and now very much cracked, courtyard.

  From within the settling smoke, a familiar, deep voice called out, her tone laced with a weary resignation. “Relax, kid. You won’t die.”

  Raito and Yukari didn't even think. They moved as one, their earlier warmth replaced by the cold, hard reflexes of battle-tested warriors. They burst from the doorway, Raito grabbing his core in his pocket, Yukari summoning a dozen ice spears in mid-air. They skidded to a halt at the edge of the new crater, their stances ready.

  The smoke cleared, revealing two figures. They were not enemies. They were a blast from a past that felt like a lifetime ago. The first, a massive, muscular Rabbit Sacred with a kind, familiar face, was dusting off his simple traveler’s clothes. He was still as tall and as rough-looking as Raito remembered, a man-mountain who was, impossibly, only sixteen years old. The second figure, who stood beside him with her arms crossed and an expression of pure, unadulterated exasperation, was a woman whose fiery red hair and familiar red qipao made Yukari’s heart stop.

  “Jack?” Raito’s voice was a sharp, incredulous whisper.

  “Master?” Yukari breathed, her own voice a mixture of shock and a dawning, profound confusion.

  “What are you doing here?” they both asked in perfect, baffled unison.

  “Oh, hello! What’s up, Kun?” Jack said, his face breaking into a wide, cheerful grin as he recognized his old friend. He held up a massive fist. “Long time no see.”

  “Relax, Linlin,” Zhu Lihua said, her sharp, familiar voice cutting through the stunned silence. She didn’t even look at her disciple, her gaze fixed on the cowering, rabbit-robed form of Lily, who had peeked out from behind the doorway, her face a mask of pure, terrified confusion. “I’ll tell you later,” Lihua continued, her tone dismissive. “Right now, I’m just delivering that lost boy over there.” She gestured with her thumb towards Jack, who was still holding his fist out, waiting for a bump.

  Raito, his own battle stance completely forgotten, just stared, his mind still trying to process the impossible, chaotic reunion. He finally, almost mechanically, raised his own fist, meeting his old friend’s in a solid, familiar bump.

  “Jack? What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice a mixture of disbelief and a dawning, joyous confusion. “It feels like I’ve been asking that a lot today.”

  “I’m here accompanying Miss Yinzi, of course,” Jack replied, his grin unwavering.

  “But what about your work in Jinlun?” Raito pressed, the last piece of the puzzle still not fitting.

  “Quit,” Jack said with a casual shrug. “To be honest, I just couldn’t be there anymore. Not after I saw what happened to you.” His expression darkened for a fraction of a second, the memory a brief, angry shadow. “After that, I traveled here and there. Then I met Miss Yinzi in Moulang, and she took me in.” His bright, cheerful grin returned in full force. “Did you know her honey-apple pie is to die for?”

  “I know,” Raito said, a wide, genuine smile of his own spreading across his face as he looked from his old friend to his orphanage director who was there for him. “She raised me.”

  For Yukari, the reunion was anything but calm. The moment the smoke cleared, the moment she saw that familiar, fiery red hair, her entire body had gone rigid. She didn't lower her weapons. She didn't relax. Instead, with a sharp, guttural cry that was a world away from her usual composed grace, she launched a single, massive ice spear directly at her master.

  It shot across the cratered courtyard, a blur of white, crystalline fury. And just as it always had, Zhu Lihua didn't even flinch. Her hand shot out, catching the spear effortlessly just inches from her face. It hissed, the impossible cold turning to steam in her grip as the ice melted into nothing. “Is this how you greet your master, Linlin?” Lihua asked, her voice laced with that familiar, mocking, and deeply affectionate amusement.

  “You’re… real,” Yukari whispered, her own voice a raw, trembling thing. She took a slow, hesitant step forward, ice spears dissolving into harmless frost, her hands shaking. She took another step, her movements stiff, almost robotic, as if her mind couldn't accept what her eyes were seeing. “You’re real,” she said again, the words a quiet, desperate confirmation.

  And then, the dam broke.

  With a cry that seemed to hold all the pain, the guilt, and the profound, aching loneliness of the past two years, she closed the distance. She leaped forward, not as a warrior, but as a child, her arms wrapping around Zhu Lihua’s neck, burying her face in the familiar, comforting fabric of her master’s qipao. “I’m sorry,” she wept, the words a broken, muffled confession against her stepmother’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

  Zhu Lihua froze, her own arms hovering in the air for a fraction of a second, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated shock. This… this was not a reaction she had ever anticipated. But as she felt the small, trembling frame in her arms, as she heard the raw, honest agony in her disciple’s voice, the shock melted away, replaced by a profound, overwhelming wave of emotion she hadn't allowed herself to feel in centuries.

  A small, genuine, and impossibly gentle smile touched her lips. Her arms, which had only ever known how to strike and to block, now moved in a new, unfamiliar gesture. They wrapped around Yukari, pulling her close in a tight, firm, and undeniably loving embrace. “I am the one who is sorry, little Linlin,” Zhu Lihua whispered, her own voice thick with an emotion that was a world away from the fiery War Empress. She stroked her stepdaughter’s hair, her touch surprisingly gentle. “You have been through a lot.”

  Miss Yinzi and Bob looked at each other, a proud, knowing nod passing between them.

  “If everyone has been re-acquainted,” Miss Yinzi clapped her hands, her voice a warm, gentle sound that cut through the emotional, and frankly chaotic, reunion, “then maybe we can find a place where we can sit down and catch up? I will cook for everyone. How does that sound?”

  “Lovely!” Raito and Jack, their stomachs apparently speaking for them, said in perfect, enthusiastic unison.

  “Just head inside, Miss Yinzi,” Raito gestured towards the grand, open doorway of the mansion. “The kitchen is to the right. All the ingredients should be there.”

  “But we can’t do that,” Miss Yinzi said, her gaze sweeping over the opulent, and very much not-hers, mansion. “Not without the owner’s consent.”

  Yukari, her face still buried in her stepmother’s shoulder, waved a dismissive hand over her back. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice muffled but full of a teasing confidence. “She is very kind. She won’t mind.”

  “Well… since both of you said that,” Miss Yinzi relented, a warm smile on her face. She turned to the giant merchant beside her. “Mister Bob, would you be so kind as to help me?”

  “Just call me Bob, hohoho! And yes, I will!” he gestured for the kind old lady to enter first, followed by Bob, Jack, Raito, and a still-clinging Yukari and Zhu Lihua.

  As the large, happy group began to file into the mansion, a high-pitched, furious shriek echoed from the solarium.

  “Of course I mind!” Lily burst into the foyer, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated rage, her fluffy rabbit robe flapping wildly. “This is my house! Why are you bringing more guests over here?! And her! ” She pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at Zhu Lihua, who just raised an amused, fiery eyebrow in her direction. “She is especially not welcomed!” Lily continued to shout, ranting about property laws, uninvited guests, and the structural integrity of her now-cratered courtyard.

  But everyone just ignored her. Per Raito and Yukari’s earlier, very clear instructions to the group, they simply treated her furious outburst as a particularly loud, if somewhat dramatic, gust of wind. or as they call it “she does this a lot.”

  Serra, who had been hiding behind a pillar during the entire reunion, saw her chance. She was finally freed from her masseuse hell. She quickly and quietly slipped into the kitchen after Miss Yinzi, eager to help.

  In the opulent, state-of-the-art kitchen, however, Bob paused. He stood amidst the gleaming stainless steel and marble countertops, a sudden, profound, and deeply troubling feeling washing over him. He snapped his massive fingers.

  “Ah,” he said, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I feel like I’ve forgotten something.”

  Miss Yinzi, who was already inspecting the contents of Lily’s ridiculously oversized refrigerator, turned to him with a gentle smile. “If you forgot, Bob, then perhaps it was not that important.”

  Bob’s troubled expression instantly cleared, replaced by his usual, booming cheer. “You are right! And so wise, Miss Yinzi! Hohoho!” he laughed, all thoughts of his prior engagement completely forgotten.

  Far across the city, in a quiet, sterile-white room in the Azul Spira General Hospital, Mila sneezed, a sharp, uncharacteristic sound in the stillness. She looked up from the fashion magazine she had been listlessly flipping through, her leg propped up on a stack of pillows, her gaze shifting to the clock on the wall.

  “Master said he was going to buy fruits,” she grumbled to the empty room, her voice a low, impatient thing. “It’s been hours.”