After a short while, Xiamier was still gently rubbing the tip of Yiyi’s reddened tail with her fingertips, watching as the once-taut tail slowly relaxed.
Even the pink heart shape at the tip gradually unfolded before she stopped her movements, carefully lifting Yiyi up from the ground.
At this moment, although the swelling in Yiyi’s little tail had subsided for the most part, her body still trembled slightly when Xiamier’s fingertips touched the base, clearly still aching a bit.
Xiamier didn’t mention the tail any further, simply holding her and turning toward the nearby desk, gently setting her down on the edge, which was covered with a soft velvet pad.
Her fingertips traced lightly over the little dragon horns atop Yiyi’s head, the touch soft and plush, causing even the corners of Xiamier’s lips to soften a bit as she asked gently: “Yiyi, I’ve prepared a little present for you. Want to see it?”
Yiyi was still clutching the hilt of “Dawn.”
At Xiamier’s words, she lifted her tear-stained face, her scarlet vertical pupils full of confusion, yet tinged with a trace of wariness.
The pain from falling on her tail hadn’t passed yet, and she wasn’t about to lower her guard so easily.
She whispered back, “W-what kind of present?”
Xiamier didn’t answer directly.
Instead, she raised her voice toward the doorway and called, “Luoli, bring the ‘present’ in, please.”
“What is it this time…” Yiyi grew even more puzzled, instinctively turning her head to look toward the study door, the tip of her tail tensing again, and her grip on the sword hilt tightening.
Luoli walked in quickly, carrying an exquisite milk jug in her right hand.
The jug was silvery-white, inlaid with tiny diamonds, a rim edged with a ring of gold.
Sunlight streaming through the window cast sparkling reflections on its surface.
It was filled to the brim with creamy dragon milk, the milky liquid shimmering as it gently sloshed within.
Luoli walked up to Xiamier and handed over the jug with care.
Xiamier took the milk jug, turned, and held it out to Yiyi.
She tapped the jug with her fingertips and smiled as she explained, “See? Now, whenever you get hungry, you can just drink from this directly. You won’t need to wait for me to warm it up anymore—so convenient! What do you think, Yiyi? Do you like it?”
Yiyi’s eyes were instantly drawn to the jug—the color was similar to “Dawn’s” blade, its dazzling surface making her blink uncontrollably.
But thinking of her earlier “revenge” plan, she quickly turned her face away, yet didn’t push the jug aside, only muttering in a small voice, “W-who would want something like this… It’s not like I’m some little cub who hasn’t been weaned…”
She said that, but her gaze kept drifting back to the milk jug, and her grip on the sword hilt loosened slightly, her throat bobbing unconsciously.
The dragon milk she’d drunk earlier was already digested.
Now, catching the faint milky fragrance wafting from the jug, her stomach gave a quiet growl.
Xiamier naturally heard that tiny sound, her smile growing deeper, but she didn’t say a word.
Instead, she pushed the jug a little closer, her voice even gentler: “It’s alright—even grown-up little dragons can drink dragon milk. If you don’t like this design, we can switch to another one, maybe inlaid with some pretty rubies. How about that?”
The tips of Yiyi’s ears quietly reddened.
She didn’t reply, but she slowly released the sword hilt, her fingertip brushing the golden edge of the jug.
The cool touch was finely textured, the body of the jug still warm, clearly just heated.
She snuck a glance up at Xiamier and saw only indulgence in those eyes, not a trace of mockery.
Only then did she hum softly, “Th-then I guess… I’ll just accept it, for now…”
Saying this, she reached out and took the jug, fingers gripping the warm vessel.
The wariness in her heart quietly faded a bit.
Even the tip of her tail swayed slightly, but at the thought of her “revenge plan” for the night, she quickly tightened her expression again, lowering her head to drink milk with feigned seriousness, not looking at Xiamier any longer.
…
…
Night had grown deep and still.
In the study, only the dimmest night pearl remained, its gentle glow wrapping the tables and chairs, even the air tinged with drowsiness.
Yiyi curled up in her little plush nest beside Xiamier’s bed, her lashes fluttering ever so slightly.
She hadn’t slept at all, her ears perked and listening to Xiamier’s even breathing, the “flames of revenge” in her heart burning once more.
Her tiny fists clenched tightly.
She lifted her head in secret, scarlet vertical pupils glowing faintly in the dark, locked onto “Dawn” lying on the nearby table.
The blade shimmered with pale silver in the low light, as if calling to her.
The pain from her tail being smashed in the day was long gone.
The milk jug from Xiamier was still by her pillow, the dragon milk inside long since emptied.
Tonight, I will definitely skewer Xiamier for revenge!!
Yiyi shifted her small body, trying to climb out of bed without waking Xiamier.
But her little plush nest was too soft, and she struggled for ages without managing to get out.
Finally, she just rolled herself over—“thump”—landing softly on the carpet.
“Ugh…”
She quickly covered her mouth and listened intently, only relaxing when she was sure Xiamier hadn’t stirred.
Then, on tiptoe, she shuffled over to the table.
“Dawn” felt heavier than it had in the daytime. Yiyi had to use both hands just to hug the hilt, her little face flushing red as she struggled to drag the sword up.
Got it, but it’s so heavy!
No, I have to stab her tonight, I must!
Mimicking what she’d done in the daytime, she carried the sword back toward the bed.
Her short legs stepped lightly, but she still managed to trip on the edge of the carpet, nearly stumbling.
At last she reached the bedside.
Clutching “Dawn,” she tried to climb onto the bed, her legs kicking at the mattress several times, the blade digging into her belly, making her tense up.
With great effort, she finally rolled herself onto the mattress, but lost her balance, wobbling forward.
She barely caught herself with her elbows, avoiding a tumble.
The silver bell on the sword tassel jingled faintly, making her freeze on the spot, holding her breath and staring at Xiamier’s face.
Seeing that her eyelashes didn’t move and her breathing remained even, Yiyi finally relaxed and inched her way closer.
She propped “Dawn” upright at her side, gripping the hilt tightly with both hands, tiptoeing closer to Xiamier.
Moonlight filtered through the window, falling just so upon Xiamier’s lowered lashes, casting a soft shadow, even wrapping her usually cold, hard dragon horns in a gentle light.
Yiyi stared at those dragon horns, her “flames of revenge” flaring even hotter.
The pain of her tail being smashed earlier, and the humiliation of being called “not weaned,” all surged up.
She gritted her teeth in secret.
I’ll stab right here! That’ll hurt for sure!
But as soon as she raised the sword, her arms began to tremble.
“Dawn’s” weight made her wrists ache, the blade wavering and nearly brushing Xiamier’s sleeve several times.
Sweat broke out on Yiyi’s nose as she pursed her lips tight, using every ounce of strength she had, just barely keeping the sword steady.
She fixed her eyes on Xiamier’s dragon horns, silently counting, “Three, two, one,” and was just about to stab down.
Xiamier suddenly moved, turning over, her arm draping right in front of Yiyi, her fingertips brushing Yiyi’s hand.
Yiyi’s heart pounded wildly.
Her hand slipped and “Dawn” crashed down on her tiny foot.
The moment “Dawn” hit her little foot, a sharp pain shot from her toes to her knee, making Yiyi shrink up in agony.
All the breath she’d been holding turned into a wailing cry, sharp and clear, echoing through the silent night: “Aah—ah—aaah! It hurts, it hurts so much!”
She frantically tried to grab her foot, but her hands were still holding the hilt.
With a tug, “Dawn” pressed even harder onto her instep, making tears stream instantly from her scarlet vertical pupils, her voice warbling with pain: “My foot! Xiamier, you jerk—it’s all your fault! If you hadn’t moved all of a sudden, how could I have hit myself!”