Miss Witch, even if we're poor, we can't sell ourselves!

In March, Xia leaned against the raised headboard of her hospital bed.

The phone was resting on his lap, the earphone cord hanging down from below his earlobe, swaying back and forth at the collar of his white hospital gown.

The light from the screen shone on her pale face, illuminating her eyes, which were like fresh green leaves after the rain, into two small spots of light.

Her eyesight had worsened again, but she still held her phone very close, almost touching the screen with her nose, because she thought she recognized the person on the screen.

His short, light golden hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to his forehead. His windbreaker was nowhere to be found. His shirt sleeve was torn in half, revealing his thin arms and cuts that were bleeding from them.

He was filthy, like a stray cat that had rolled in the mud.

But her eyes still shone, stubbornly staring at her opponent who was far stronger than her.

I turned the headphone volume up by one notch.

She heard Miya's voice.

She recognized that voice.

In March, Xia gently placed her hand on the earphones and closed her eyes.

My memory, like pages of a book turned by the wind, returned to a late night about ten days ago.

The corridor of the general hospital was filled with the smell of disinfectant. The nightlights cast a dim, warm yellow glow in the corners, and the nurses on duty were snoring softly as they leaned on the nurses' station.

Wearing a thin coat, she slowly made her way down the corridor, supporting herself against the wall.

My ward was on the third floor, east side, while that ward was on the third floor, west side, separated by a fire door that required a card to pass through.

She used the access card she had secretly taken from the duty room to swipe open the door, walked barefoot across the cold floor tiles, and pushed open the door to the ward.

A very small girl was curled up on the hospital bed.

Her golden hair was spread out on the pillow, appearing white in the moonlight.

An IV drip was attached to the back of my hand, and the green waveform of the electrocardiogram monitor jumped in the darkness.

Her face was paler than she saw in the live stream; her lips were bloodless, and her brow was slightly furrowed, as if she were having a bad dream.

March Summer sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled the blanket up to cover Miya's exposed shoulders, and then softly hummed a song.

There are no lyrics, only a melody, very, very slow.

She sings this song every time she goes there.

Sometimes I sing it three times, sometimes five times, depending on how long I can keep going that night.

And each time the song was halfway through, the girl on the bed would slowly relax her brows, and a very faint smile would appear on her lips, as if she heard someone singing to comfort her in her dream.

March Summer liked that smile.

That smile made her feel that she wasn't just someone who could only lie in a hospital bed; there was something she could do, something she could do to make another person's dream a little better.

"Oh, it was you."

March Summer opened her eyes and whispered to the screen.

On the screen, the blonde girl covered in wounds leaned against an ancient tree, a faint smile on her lips, before slowly closing her eyes.

The commentator's excited, cracking voice came through the headphones.

[The competition is over! Miss Miya is the winner of this year's Moon Forest Entrance Examination Martial Arts Test!]

The screen was filled with comments.

[I'm invincible!!]

[I can't take it anymore, that last smile was so cool!]

【Congratulations!】

so good.

A gust of wind came from outside the window.

In March, Xia turned her head and saw the jacaranda tree in the yard through the glass window of the ward.

The petals had all fallen. She remembered it clearly: yesterday afternoon, when the sun was shining brightly, she was being pushed in her wheelchair by a nurse into the yard for some fresh air. She looked up and saw that the last cluster of purple flowers was still hanging on the branches of the jacaranda tree.

She thought to herself, "This cluster of flowers is really holding on. Maybe it will last until the next time I come out."

But now that cluster of flowers is gone, and the bare branches sway slightly in the cold wind.

She pulled the blanket up to cover her shoulders, and reached out from under the blanket to pick up the calendar from the bedside table.

Turning to the last page of the calendar, next to a date circled in red pen, was written the attending physician's exact words: "The rate of circulatory deterioration has slowed down and is expected to last until March of the following year."

But the jacaranda trees don't bloom in March.

She put the calendar back on the bedside table, picked up her phone again, and could make it out a little more clearly, albeit blurry.

Mi Ye on the screen was teleported out of the mirror world. Bie Chenye rushed over from the entrance of the examination hall. Her dark blue robe was wrinkled in the crowd, and the red flower almost fell off her head, but she didn't care at all.

She simply held Mi Ye's hand tightly, her lips trembling, her eyes red as if she had just been crying.

As March Summer watched this scene, a faint smile appeared on her lips.

So she wrapped herself in the blanket, curled up into a small ball, like a flower bud blown away by the wind, huddled in the soil, waiting for the next spring.

……

……

When consciousness returned, the bitter taste of herbs mixed with the sweet, earthy smell of rainwater outside the window blended into my mind.

Miya moved her fingers and touched a soft pillow.

Then she opened her eyes and saw Bie Chenye's face.

Bie Chenye sat on the edge of the bed, the sleeves of her dark blue robe rolled up to her elbows, her long hair casually draped over her shoulders, and the red flower on her head still blooming brightly.

Her eyes were fixed on Mi Ye's face. The moment she saw Mi Ye open her eyes, all the weariness and worry in those eyes were exposed brightly in the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window.

"...Is this a wooden house?"

Miya blinked, her voice still a little hoarse.

"Yeah, I stole you from the lounge."

Don't speak in a matter-of-fact tone in the dead of night.

"There's an awards ceremony later, hosted by Primula, with all the teachers and students in attendance. You even have to give a speech on stage. I definitely don't want to go, so I helped you cancel. The stamp was secretly put on by Andreas. Primula's face turned dark when she saw it, but she couldn't refute it."

She finished speaking in a calm tone, but the beauty mark at the corner of her eye lifted slightly as her smile deepened, revealing her true emotions at that moment.

Miya couldn't help but laugh too.

In an effort to help her avoid social situations, Teacher Bie even went so far as to forge a sick leave certificate.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of someone standing behind Bie Chenye, and her smile froze on her face.

Long white hair, a white robe, closed eyes, and a gentle smile that gives you goosebumps.

Principal Andris stood less than a step behind Bie Chenye. It was unclear when she had entered or how long she had been standing there.

Even though those eyes, which were always closed, weren't focused on anything, Miya always felt that gaze was piercing through her thin eyelids, precisely watching her.

Her first impression of the principal was far from good.

This is the guy who announced the ruleless slaughter in a sweet voice, and that thing about "the little witch who is afraid of pain should try her best not to get beaten to death" still makes her feel cold when she thinks about it now.

But Andreas seemed completely oblivious to Mi Ye's wary gaze. She tilted her head slightly, her long white hair slipping down her shoulders, then took a step forward, bent down, and brought her face only an inch away from Mi Ye's nose.

"You're recovering very quickly. You truly deserve to be a student personally taught by Teacher Bie Chenye. Your vitality is as vigorous as wild grass in spring."

Mi Ye shrank halfway into the blanket, her back pressed tightly against the headboard, and even her tentacles instinctively slipped halfway out of her sleeves before she forcefully stuffed them back in.

Seeing her reaction, Andreas did not back away; instead, she chuckled softly.

She straightened up, took something out of her sleeve, and handed it to Miya.

It was a stone slightly larger than a thumb, irregularly shaped but with rounded edges, a moon-white surface, and fine, silvery veins flowing slowly inside. It felt slightly cool to the touch when held in the palm of your hand.

"This is a moonstone, used to store souls. You'll need it later, so consider it the reward for first place."

Moonstone? A repository for souls?

Miya took the stone and looked down at the flowing silver light in her palm.

The patterns inside the stone rotated slowly like a living thing, reflected in her pupils.

She looked up, her eyes filled with confusion and unease.

"Why are you giving me this? Is there something wrong with my soul?"

Andreas did not answer; she simply tilted her head, her smile as gentle as moonlight.

Bie Chenye stood up, his dark blue robe drawing an arc in the air, and reached out to block between Mi Ye and Andreas.

"Alright, now that you've delivered the things, you can leave. She needs to rest. It's clearly written on the sick leave slip we just saw. The principal should take the lead in following the doctor's orders."

Andreas was half-pushed and half-dragged to the door by Bie Chenye. She turned around and covered half of her face with her sleeve, her tone suddenly becoming mournful and affected.

"You've lost your love? People come to visit your students out of kindness, and you just chase them away like that. Back when I gave you an award at the teachers' conference, I was the only one in the entire room applauding."

"You have the nerve to bring that up? Was that applause? You were instigating trouble!"

Without changing his expression, Bie Chenye opened the wooden door and gently pushed Andreas out.

Andreas's voice drifted in through the crack in the door before it closed.

"I'll let you in on a secret: I drew that mushroom myself; it took me a long time."

The door closed.

The cabin fell silent, with only the sound of raindrops dripping from the eaves outside the window.

Mi Ye looked down at the moonstone in her palm; the silver patterns still flowed slowly, as if it had made a home in her hand.

She recalled the ancient city in her mind's eye, the streets decorated with lanterns and colorful decorations, the crystal-clear water in the wishing well, and the blood fairy growing wildly by the pond.

And there was that sun hanging over the ancient city, its intense white light blindingly bright.

And there was the reflection deeper in the wishing well, a reflection she never dared to look at closely.

She held the moonstone tightly in her hand and looked up out the window.

The rain stopped sometime ago, and the tree canopies on the back hill, washed clean, shone brightly green in the afternoon sun, while a small patch of clear blue sky peeked out.