By the time Alisia had stored the greatsword and returned to the living room, the aroma of food was already wafting out.
Alisia instinctively leaned forward.
She saw Mo Lan’s left hand carrying a pot of fish that smelled sour and spicy, and her right hand carrying a plate of white half-moon-shaped food, setting them on the table.
“This is pickled cabbage fish and dumplings.”
Alisia didn’t understand what pickled cabbage fish was, nor what dumplings were.
‘It smells so good… it looks delicious. What is going on with this world’s cooking techniques…? Why are they so amazing?!’
Mo Lan brought over chopsticks.
Alisia was slightly taken aback.
This world also used chopsticks.
That was somewhat similar to the eating utensils of the Western Regions.
“Eat up.”
No sooner had Mo Lan spoken than Alisia began eating earnestly.
The dumplings were soft, filled with meat and vegetables. The pickled cabbage fish hit her palate with freshness first, then sourness, then overwhelming spiciness.
For the first time, Alisia’s eyes turned red at the corners from the heat.
But she didn’t stop.
It was too delicious.
Far better than most of the cuisine in the Western Regions. If she ate this a few more times, she’d probably never go back to that kind of life.
Mo Lan had only eaten two dumplings and two bites of fish.
Then she looked up and realized the dishes were almost gone.
“Hey… leave me some!!!”
Alisia set down her chopsticks and pressed her palms together.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“Don’t eat all my dinner while pretending to be polite!”
Mo Lan huffed as she cleared the dishes.
Alisia smelled the remnants of the food still lingering in the air and unconsciously moved closer.
Smack.
She got tapped on the head by Mo Lan again.
“What are you trying to do now?”
“I wasn’t thinking anything…!”
“Really? That move you just made was suspicious!”
“Was it?”
“It was!”
After that, Mo Lan felt speechless, then picked up the bowls and walked over to the sink.
“Whatever… as punishment, you’re washing the dishes with me!”
“Alright…”
Alisia followed over and picked up a plate.
Then she realized she had absolutely no idea how to wash dishes.
In her world, tableware was either cleaned by servants or handled by dedicated cleaning spells on board ships.
‘H-How am I supposed to wash this??’
Mo Lan watched her for two seconds, then gave up.
“Forget it. Give it to me.”
She took the plate and rinsed it skillfully.
Alisia stood nearby, simply watching and learning.
“That kid on TV… really is pitiful.”
Mo Lan suddenly spoke.
Alisia looked up.
“Ah…? Yeah… I think so too.”
The water rushed noisily.
Mo Lan continued washing the dishes as she spoke:
“If only I’d been born in a world with magic. Then, I’d want to use magic to bring happiness to those kids.”
Alisia fell silent.
‘Magic…’
In Mo Lan’s eyes, magic was perhaps a tool that could change the structure of the world.
But in Alisia’s world, magic was also a weapon—an ability used to invade, and a forbidden spell that could transform humans into monsters.
“Human nature won’t become beautiful just because magic is added to it.” Alisia said softly.
Mo Lan turned to look at her.
“Huh? Why do you say that?”
“Because… human desires can never be filled.”
Alisia watched the foam being washed away in the sink.
Mo Lan frowned.
“But war always drags civilians in. If there was magic, civilians could fight back too, right? At least… people would have some way to fight injustice, right?”
Alisia didn’t answer immediately.
She realized war in this world was probably just as cruel.
It was just that the people here didn’t have magic, so they pinned their hopes on it.
And she came from a world that did have magic, so she knew that once hope became a weapon, it would be snatched away by the ambitious and turned into a new tool.
“Society is a very complex structure.” Alisia said slowly. “When an individual fights injustice, what they may invite isn’t victory, but retaliation from the entire force behind it.”
She paused.
“Imagine this. This morning, you use magic to help a bullied child out of a jam. By evening, one of the bullies’ parents turns out to be someone very powerful. They don’t even need to show up personally—just a few words, and your home gets destroyed. Your friends and colleagues distance themselves from you because they’re afraid of being dragged in.”
Mo Lan gripped the dishcloth tightly.
“But… it’d be different with an especially powerful force. Become a magical girl and take care of those enemies!”
“Magical… girl?”
It was Alisia’s first time hearing that term.
She couldn’t understand what it concretely was.
But she could sense that what Mo Lan was describing was probably the kind of hero who appears at critical moments in fairy tale picture books.
“And then?”
Alisia sighed.
“Fight violence with violence, kill all those people, and society will be at peace?”
“That’s not what I meant!”
Mo Lan immediately retorted, but her face was red.
“I just… I want to change all of this. If I had power.”
She looked down at the plates in the sink.
“Someone has to change this world… At least, I don’t want to give up. In the future, I want to become someone who can protect everyone.”
Alisia looked at her.
In that instant, she suddenly felt that Mo Lan’s eyes were very bright.
A bit naive. And a bit dazzling.
“Oh.”
Alisia nodded.
“Keep at it.”
After that, Mo Lan shot her a fierce glare.
“Your reaction is way too dismissive!”
“I’m being sincere…”
Even if reality might not allow it.
Even if miracles rarely came easily.
Even if magic really did come to this world, it might not choose Mo Lan, nor would it necessarily stand on the side of justice.
But—
If it were her.
If it were this girl, who would take in a stranger on a rainy night, buy her food, and feel sad for the victim in the news.
Maybe, just maybe, a miracle could still happen, just a little.
Mo Lan finished washing the dishes and glanced at the time.
“Oh no…! It’s already eight! I need to get ready for bed. I still have class tomorrow!”
Alisia tilted her head.
“You’re a student?”
“Yeah, I’m a high school student.”
‘What’s a high school student…? Whatever, I won’t ask too much.’
Alisia was still thinking it over, while Mo Lan dried her hands and pointed to the room next door.
“You sleep in there. That’s my sister’s room. She’s a boarder, so she comes back every two weeks. And—”
She raised her finger.
“No doing anything weird!”
“I already told you I wouldn’t do anything weird…”
After that, Mo Lan returned to her room, but before closing the door, she gave Alisia one last uneasy look.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
The door closed.
Before long, a cry of despair came from inside.
“Oh no! I forgot to do my homework! I have to be at school by five in the morning tomorrow!”
Alisia sat in the living room in silence for a few seconds.
“It’s only eight o’clock.”
No response came from behind the door.
She thought for a moment, then walked over and knocked.
“Do you need help?”
Mo Lan’s voice came from inside:
“Do you know how to do the classical Chinese questions for language arts?”
“What’s classical Chinese?”
“Aaaaah! I knew you’d be useless! Just go do something else!”
Alisia quietly stepped back.
She went to the room next door.
The room was even smaller than the living room, but decorated very cute.
Several little bear plushies sat on the bed, a pale pink desk lamp on the windowsill, and a desk with manga, a pencil holder, and a few textbooks.
Posters she couldn’t understand hung on the walls, and a faint scent of laundry detergent lingered in the air.
The soft bed looked comfortable at a glance.
In her world, a bed like this would probably only be common in the homes of nobles.
But in this world, that didn’t seem to be the case.
Alisia turned off the light.
“…Cute.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, watching the rain outside the window.
This world was completely different from the one she lived in.
Just as Alisia was about to lie down, she suddenly saw a person standing outside the window.
Qiu Meng.
Her wet cloak clung to her body, her face deathly pale, her abdomen as though pierced through by something, blood dripping down the hem of her clothes.
She stood outside the window, watching Alisia.
“Where… are you?”
The next instant, Qiu Meng fell backward.
“!”
Alisia rushed over, pushed open the window, and leaned out to look down.
The rainy night was empty.
Below was only the wet street and streetlights.
No Qiu Meng. No blood. No one at all.
“…A hallucination?”
She closed the window and leaned against the glass, letting out a long breath.
But her heart was still racing.
She took off her shoes, lay down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling light.
She grew drowsier and drowsier, her consciousness receding like the tide, her eyelids slowly drooping.
And the moment darkness fell, red threads appeared before Alisia’s eyes.
Then the threads kept crossing, tangling, and extending, as if destiny itself were quietly weaving someone’s causality in an unseen dimension.
She saw the child named Xia Yin.
A long thorn pierced through her abdomen. The thorn was like a steel support, like the bones of an otherworldly flower, its surface wrapped in red threads, shaped like a plant being trained, making her appear to be blooming.
Only the spear wasn’t supported by soil, but by a mountain of stacked newspapers, every one of them bearing the same date: August 8th. Death.
The other end of the red thread connected to a distant tower.
And to the upside-down pitch-black figure at the tower’s top.
That figure was bound by red threads, like a puppet forever unable to escape the ring of fate’s entanglement. And Alisia recognized that silhouette—it was Qiu Meng’s.
At the very center where all the threads converged, there was one thread that stood apart. A blue star flowed slowly along it, flickering dimly, like some ancient promise, some call that still tried to reach across reincarnation.
Only… that thread had long since broken.
Not cut, but invaded, twisted, and corrupted by some pitch-black force in silence.
The blue starlight gradually dimmed, and the promise shattered and scattered at that very moment.