We can definitely get…

If Granny Monet had wanted to tell Karina, she would have done so long ago.

She didn’t want to speak, and Karina knew she couldn’t get an answer out of her, so she simply smiled and politely raised her teacup for a sip.

Monet’s words were finished.

She waved her hand, lifting the barrier.

Lettia and Lili ran over, secretly observing Karina’s expression.

It seemed that Granny Monet hadn’t revealed the truth to her—Karina’s attitude hadn’t changed.

Granny Monet looked at them with a knowing gaze, a gentle, meaningful smile on her lips.

“You two must learn to put yourselves in each other’s place.”

“Put ourselves… in each other’s place?” Lili tilted her head in confusion.

Lili gazed at Lettia resentfully.

She wanted to understand her, but she simply couldn’t comprehend what dragons called “pride.”

Back then, she had no ability to resist—how could it not be Lettia’s fault?

Lettia, however, thought differently.

She believed that Lili had seduced her first.

After all, Lili had said it herself—“That’s right, I’m seducing you!”

Since she admitted it, there was no point in digging deeper, right?

Better to spend that energy teaching her a lesson—so that Lili would experience unforgettable humiliation.

That, Lettia thought, would bring closure to the past.

Karina could sense the tension between them, so she turned around theatrically, feigning confusion as she coldly questioned them.

“You two… don’t tell me your relationship isn’t good?”

“H-how could that be?” Lettia smiled eagerly, wrapping her arm around Lili’s shoulder.

“Mother, you’re overthinking it—we even have a daughter together! How could our relationship be bad?”

Lili didn’t play along.

She pouted unhappily.

Earlier, she had gone along only to keep Granny Monet from noticing the cracks—but since Monet clearly stood on her side, there was no reason to keep acting.

Lettia frowned, patting Lili’s shoulder as a signal to cooperate, but Lili only turned her head away with a stubborn “hmph.”

Veins bulged on Lettia’s forehead—she squeezed Lili’s shoulder hard.

“Ah!—W-what are you doing!?”

“Play along,” Lettia whispered into her ear.

“Or on the way back… we’ll play ‘the mannequin game’ again.”

“Eek!” Lili’s face turned bright red.

“F-fine! I’ll cooperate!”

When they rode the griffin, Lili was completely helpless—if Lettia decided to act out again, she wouldn’t be able to take it.

She might completely become Lettia’s toy.

“Our relationship is great, isn’t it, Sister Lettia?”

“Y-yes, of course!” Lettia laughed cheerfully.

“Leya Mama and Lili Mama—so lovey-dovey!”

Amy’s innocent little voice chimed in.

She didn’t really understand what “lovey-dovey” meant, but her childish words lightened the mood instantly.

Monet’s gaze carried a hint of reproach.

Karina, looking like a guilty child, offered an unspoken apology with her eyes.

Monet had told her not to interfere—yet Karina still tried to nudge them closer.

Just a little nudge, she told herself.

Maybe her authority would make them act like lovers.

In a way, Karina’s presence was like a passive skill—whenever she appeared, Lettia and Lili had to act affectionate, which in turn might draw them closer for real.

After Monet’s guidance, Karina could finally see it clearly—Lettia and Lili had irreconcilable differences.

They hated each other, yet loved each other deeply.

A tangled, unbreakable bond—no wonder even Granny Monet dared not intervene.

“Granny Monet, we should take our leave now.”

“Wait—I have a gift for Amy.”

“A gift? For Amy?” Lili tilted her head in surprise.

Monet clapped her hands to draw Amy’s attention, then opened her arms.

Amy hesitated, but Lili gently pushed her forward.

Understanding her mother’s intent, Amy stumbled toward Granny Monet.

Monet lifted her up and stroked her hair tenderly.

“What a sweet little thing. Do you know how to write your name?”

“Yes!—I practiced!”

“Good. Then Granny will give you a gift.”

From a swirling void, Monet retrieved a beautiful red journal.

Its cover was embossed with a delicate bauhinia flower design.

She placed the journal on the table and handed Amy a black fountain pen.

Overjoyed, Amy knelt before the table and began to write her name.

The handwriting was crooked, but for a three-year-old, it was already very good.

Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the simple desk.

On the desk lay the red journal—its cover marked with the bauhinia flower, and a name that had long since been scribbled out in black ink.

A young alchemist in a white robe sat by the window, staring into the distance.

Her silver twin tails shimmered in the sunlight, and her crimson eyes reflected the sky—filled with sorrow and longing.

In a fleeting moment, the girl opened the bauhinia-covered journal.

The first few pages were filled with crooked letters—some words written phonetically—but the lines overflowed with joy.

She wished that happiness would last forever.

As the pages turned, the handwriting grew more graceful, but the warmth faded away.

“Leya Mama and Lili Mama don’t seem to get along.”

“Leya Mama is acting strange—she keeps saying she loves Lili Mama!”

Her fingers stopped turning the page.

The girl gazed at the words, stroking the paper with trembling fingertips, a wistful smile on her face.

Flipping again, the handwriting became elegant and steady—the journal’s owner had grown up.

The entries were simple daily notes, yet they brought a smile to the reader’s lips.

“Leya Mama and Lili Mama made up!”

Just that one line made tears glimmer at the corners of her eyes.

In her mind, she saw a happy family of three—playing in the forest, at the seaside, camping by clear streams, laughing in colorful amusement parks.

For a moment, she wanted to lose herself in that bliss.

But her expression slowly hardened.

She wiped away her tears and turned another page.

The journal’s owner had written, with trembling hands, of an unthinkable event.

“The seal of the Dragon God’s homeland is weakening. The Evil God has returned.”

“We dragons must protect the peace of the world.”

The scenes came alive before her eyes—skies dyed red, land shrouded in dark mists.

Lettia stood at the forefront of the dragon clans, facing the Evil God without fear.

Opposite her, the Evil God’s eyes gleamed with malice, her skin covered in strange runes.

With a wave of her hand, hordes of twisted demons surged forward.

The battle raged—countless lives lost, smoke hanging over the field for days on end.

In the end, Lettia sacrificed herself for the world’s peace, perishing alongside the Evil God.

The pain carved into the white-robed alchemist’s heart was suffocating.

“I’m sorry, Mama Leya. I couldn’t stop the Evil God’s return last time. I let tragedy fall upon the world.”

Wiping away her tears, the alchemist looked once more at the boundless sky.

“This time, I will change the future…”

Her eyes shone with determination—gazing as if into destiny itself.

“We will reclaim the happiness that belongs to us.”