“Huh?”
Tunzuo’s movements froze stiffly at the words.
She slowly turned her head, those deep green eyes filled with an expression that screamed.
“What are you even saying?”
As if she had just heard the world’s biggest joke.
Tunzuo tilted her head, looking Olivia up and down from head to toe, her critical gaze resembling that of someone looking at a lunatic.
Olivia’s sudden, incomprehensible remark left Tunzuo momentarily stunned.
Her brain’s neural pathways abruptly stiffened, stalling for a few seconds before restarting.
Once she figured out what Olivia was saying, Tunzuo’s mouth twitched, and she made a disgusted face as she challenged Olivia.
“Seriously? You’re jealous of Hai Lanyue? Isn’t that a bit too much?! That kid’s a poor thing who barely dares to speak above a whisper! And you’re supposed to be a noble lady from the Golden Family. What, you get jealous of anyone I talk to?”
Faced with Tunzuo’s rebuke, Olivia lowered her head, looking as though she had been struck by a sore spot, then put on an even more pitiful expression.
She stomped her foot and raised her long, pale fingers, counting them off as she poured out her grievances to Tunzuo.
“How is that too much, little ghost?”
Olivia’s originally firm voice suddenly turned soft and sticky, laced with a hint of coaxing.
Her golden, slit pupils shimmered with tears, and her expression resembled that of a wife abandoned by a heartless husband.
“Look at how warm you’ve been to Hai Lanyue—holding her hand, adding her as a friend, smiling so brightly, your complexion so much better. But with me? You’re always ice-cold, poking me with a drying pole at the drop of a hat, not even giving me a good look.”
The more Olivia spoke, the more justified she felt.
Her dragon tail hung limply behind her, the tip drawing circles on the ground.
“I’m a little unbalanced, isn’t that how any normal witch would feel?”
Hearing Olivia’s twisted logic, Tunzuo couldn’t help but roll her eyes and curse inwardly.
‘Isn’t this all your own doing, you perverted golden dragon?! First meeting, you beat me up badly, then started getting handsy and talking nonsense—a witch-hating pest! Who else would I hate but you?’
Tunzuo turned around and stomped off quickly, trying to vent her dissatisfaction through physical distance, not wanting to listen to any more of Olivia’s nonsense.
But after only two steps, she suddenly stopped.
A troubling thought crossed her mind.
‘This jealous Olivia is so possessive. What if she actually goes after Hai Lanyue out of spite?’
Even though Hai Lanyue had Instructor Lena to protect her, Olivia was a noble lady of the Golden Family, someone who could even transfer to the Capital Academy on a whim.
If she used some special method to cause trouble for Hai Lanyue…
That was something Tunzuo absolutely did not want to see.
She had only just pulled Hai Lanyue out of the shadow of loneliness.
Tunzuo didn’t want to see Hai Lanyue retreat back into seclusion because of bullying by another witch.
Forced to relent, Tunzuo stopped, took a deep breath, and stood there waiting for Olivia to explain clearly.
Once Olivia finally dawdled up, Tunzuo fell into step beside her, maintaining that safe distance of one drying pole between them.
“Listen up, perverted dragon.”
Tunzuo spoke in a huff, her tone still stiff, but the disgust in her voice had faded considerably.
“The reason I was so warm to Hai Lanyue is just… because when I saw her standing in the shadows, it reminded me of my old self.”
Tunzuo’s voice dropped.
She raised her head, her gaze fixed on the clouds stained red by the setting sun.
“Your old self? Little ghost once lived like Hai Lanyue?”
Faced with Olivia’s question, Tunzuo did not avoid it.
Some things, once said, are over.
Keeping them bottled up only turns into sickness.
So Tunzuo let out a breath and began to tell Olivia about her past.
“Before I became a witch, I was a human whose life was a complete mess.”
Tunzuo paused, as if organizing her words or calming her emotions.
“Back then, at school, I was a textbook introvert—reclusive, quiet, no different from a mushroom growing in a dark corner.”
Tunzuo gave a self-deprecating introduction to her past self.
The soulfire in her emerald eyes dimmed.
“I had no friends. I was completely isolated from the group. Those so-called classmates laughed at me behind my back, ostracized me, spread my secrets like jokes across the whole school. My teachers turned a blind eye to my pleas. The only purpose I served at school was probably being a punching bag.”
Tunzuo’s voice grew a little hoarse.
Picking at old scars wasn’t pleasant, but she chose to continue.
“I tried to fit in, to change. But every time, all I got was even worse mockery and bullying. That feeling of being abandoned by the whole world… it was truly desperate.”
Tunzuo exhaled a breath of stale air.
Her tone was calm, but the words were chilling.
“After graduation, I found a job. It was exhausting—treated like dirt and barely able to save a dime. Eventually, I steeled myself and quit, wanting to chase my dreams. And the result? Hah, just a pile of worthless paper.”
Tunzuo laughed, a weak, hollow laugh.
“Later, I couldn’t hold on anymore. So I chose suicide. I slashed my wrist with a piece of broken glass and watched the blood flow out, covering the whole floor. Hahaha, pretty cool, right?”
“Hey, you know what? When I felt drowsiness washing over me, when death was beckoning, I actually felt an inexplicable relief. That was the most comfortable moment of my entire life back then!”
Tunzuo grinned madly, but her smile carried a tinge of bitterness.
“I thought I would fall asleep forever, enjoy my eternal vacation. But in the end, it’s still hard to get a good night’s rest. Still, being a witch is way better than before.”
After telling her story, Tunzuo stopped smiling and snorted coldly, turning to face Olivia with obvious defiance and distance in her eyes.
“So, you see, the pain of us introverts is something you, a golden-born noble lady who basks in everyone’s adoration, would never understand. A witch born to stand in the spotlight can never know what it’s like to struggle in the shadows.”
Tunzuo expected Olivia to show that condescending pity face after hearing her story.
But she didn’t.
Olivia showed no contempt.
She just listened quietly until Tunzuo finished, then gently shook her head.
“No, I do understand your feelings, little ghost.”
Olivia’s voice was soft and sincere—so sincere it took Tunzuo by surprise.
“You understand?”
“Mm. I do.”
Olivia stepped in front of Tunzuo, turned around, and faced her directly.
The afterglow of the sunset reflected in Olivia’s slit pupils, making her eyes look unusually deep.
“Witches are social creatures, Tunzuo.”
Olivia said this with great seriousness.
“No matter how strong or wealthy a witch is, she’s not invincible. Once she becomes disconnected from witch society, has no friends, no social life, then that witch will inevitably fall into pain and eventually collapse and self-destruct.”
Olivia stared into Tunzuo’s emerald eyes, her gaze full of admiration and affection.
“So I really admire how you ignored Hai Lanyue’s bad luck and proactively became friends with her, helping a stranger witch out of loneliness. Even I would find that hard to do. You’re amazing.”
Seeing Olivia’s sincere smile, Tunzuo was momentarily stunned.
‘Is this the same domineering, oily, relentless perverted golden dragon I know? How did she suddenly become so… reasonable?’
Before Tunzuo could react, Olivia looked up at the clouds Tunzuo had been staring at.
“Actually, little ghost, this golden-born noble lady you talk about has plenty of troubles too.”
Olivia smoothed her hair and began telling her own story.
“You know what’s hardest for me, little ghost? Not being allowed to make a single mistake under everyone’s eyes. The tiniest flaw gets magnified endlessly.”
“Once, at a family banquet, I played the piano. I was so nervous I played one wrong note. It was very minor, but the guests still caught it. The next day, gossip like ‘Olivia is nothing special’ spread through the entire social circle. My mother was furious. To salvage the reputation, I had to perform even more perfectly than before. That kind of pressure can drive a witch crazy, even now.”
Olivia laughed, a tired laugh.
“Pointless socializing, saying insincere flattery every day. Behind every kind smile, a sharp knife might be waiting. You never know who’s genuine and who’s fake.”
“Inside the Golden Family, it’s full of scheming for power and wealth. Anyone with a stake in you can’t be trusted. The witch you trust most one second might stab you in the back the next. I’ve seen too much of that.”
A trace of barely perceptible sadness crept into Olivia’s voice as she spoke.
“Sometimes I feel really exhausted, like a marionette bound by family, reputation, and expectations. Not a single moment truly belongs to me.”
“So I actually envy you, little ghost.”
Olivia turned her head to look at Tunzuo, her smile relieved.
“I envy that you can sleep whenever you want, carefree, without worrying about these troubles. You live so freely, so unrestrained. Even though you’ve suffered in the past, at least now you’re living for yourself, not for a crown forced upon your head.”
Olivia’s story left Tunzuo dazed.
She had never imagined that this glamorous golden dragon witch would carry such heavy chains.
“Who would believe that? You definitely made that up to fool me and get my sympathy.”
Snapping back to reality, Tunzuo quickly shook her head, put on a cold face, and tried to hide her inner turmoil.
In response, Olivia gave her a gentle smile and did not argue.
“It’s okay, I understand. Barriers don’t disappear just because of a few words.”
Olivia murmured softly, her tone patient.
“But at least now we know a little about each other, right? I believe that as time passes, we’ll come to understand each other more deeply. Then you’ll know whether I’m fooling you, little ghost.”
Tunzuo wanted to retort, but the words stuck in her throat.
In the end, she could only mumble a single word.
“Mm.”
The silence between Tunzuo and Olivia stretched for a moment—not awkward, but rather in a delicate harmony.
After a while, Olivia broke the silence first.
“By the way, little ghost, have you decided which school of magic to choose?”
This time, faced with Olivia’s question, Tunzuo did not hesitate or act lazy.
She raised her head firmly, her emerald eyes sparkling with a unique light.
“The Summoning School.”
Tunzuo said resolutely.
“Hai Lanyue and her jellyfish helped me make that choice. After all, I’m a disliked introvert. If one day I end up so friendless that I have no one, then the familiars I summon from the Spirit World can keep me company, so I won’t be so lonely.”
Hearing Tunzuo’s choice, Olivia was somewhat surprised.
She had expected Tunzuo to pick the Elemental School or the Battle Magic School, given her talent.
But Olivia did not try to dissuade her.
Instead, she smiled.
“The Summoning School? That’s nice. But you’d better be ready to take care of a bunch of familiars, little ghost.”
Then Olivia suddenly leaned in close to Tunzuo, her golden slit pupils glinting with mischief.
“Besides, who says you have no witches to keep you company? I’ll always be with you.”
Hearing Olivia’s unabashed confession, Tunzuo knew Olivia was still the same perverted golden dragon she knew.
Tunzuo lifted her chin with a tsundere air and snorted.
“Hmph! As if I’d believe you, a perverted dragon who’s just after my looks!”
But Olivia winked playfully and added a sentence that almost made Tunzuo choke.
“But little ghost, aren’t you a ghost?”
Flustered and annoyed by Olivia’s counter, Tunzuo flipped her off and snapped.
“You smooth-talker! You must have made all that up!”
And so, bickering, Tunzuo and Olivia headed toward the dormitory.
The setting sun stretched their shadows long, gradually intertwining.
Tunzuo didn’t notice that while they still maintained that limit of one drying pole’s distance, they were now chatting like normal friends.
The hostility that once clashed head-on was quietly melting away.