Mo Xixi had returned to the second floor, right in time to see Yan Shu'er still sniffling and clutching her big brother, Yan Zhi.
"…Tch."
Her brows furrowed just a little.
Lips tightened. Eyes unreadable.
But it wasn't irritation.
Not really.
It was something quieter than that.
Quieter and lonelier.
What she saw reminded her of something.
A memory that never fully faded, no matter how many times she shoved it aside.
The Ashen Curse Cult.
It was never a gentle place.
Never safe.
Never warm.
But even then, it was her home.
Her family.
And now?
No older brother to shout at her when she skipped training.
No cousin to argue with. No stern elder to sigh when she pretended not to hear their summons.
Not her parents. Not her uncles.
All of them were gone from the world.
Only she remained.
A cold breeze brushed her robes.
Suddenly, she felt something bump gently against her leg.
Nudge.
Tsuki pressed her head into Mo Xixi's shin.
Soft. Warm. Comforting.
