Chapter 15: Her Light

Ye Ning’s gaze settled on the girl sitting in the back of the classroom.

The girl sat quietly in a wheelchair by the window, dressed in a neat, light gray JK school uniform.

The navy blue bow at her shirt collar was tied perfectly.

Her short, sleek black hair brushed against her ears, the ends resting lightly on her shoulders.

Xu Zhihe, the younger sister of her former teammate, Magical Girl Blood Butterfly, Xu Zhiyuan.

Her features bore a seventy percent resemblance to Xu Zhiyuan—the same sharp eyebrows and clear eyes—yet her face was etched with a faint indifference.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft halo around her, but it did nothing to melt the coldness in her eyes.

She looked up, her gaze sweeping over the teacher’s podium.

When her eyes landed on Ye Ning, there was no ripple of emotion—no surprise, no familiarity—as if she were looking at a complete stranger.

Her thin lips remained pressed into a straight line.

An aura of icy distance surrounded her.

Her fingers rested on the wheelchair’s armrests, stretched taut and straight, the knuckles pale.

The classroom’s noise, the stares of her classmates, the class teacher’s reminders—all faded into a blurry background hum.

—

Xu Zhiyuan and Xu Zhihe’s childhood was rewritten by a Disaster Beast catastrophe.

That late autumn, an out-of-control B-rank Disaster Beast attacked an old residential area, shattering the peace.

In the chaos, the sisters’ parents died protecting them.

The young Xu Zhihe was struck by the residual mana from the Disaster Beast’s attack, losing the use of her legs.

She was confined to a wheelchair from then on.

What this tragedy left behind wasn’t just physical disability, but a deeply ingrained coldness in her personality.

After their parents’ death, the government’s survivor pension was barely enough to scrape by.

Xu Zhiyuan, who had just turned sixteen, became a Magical Girl, fighting to earn money to support their home.

After joining the Morning Star Squad, Xu Zhiyuan became swamped with missions, leaving early and returning late, sometimes not coming home for weeks.

The sisters, already quiet by nature, grew even more distant.

Living under the same roof, they were reduced to only the most necessary daily greetings.

Their familial bond, amidst the busyness and silence, became exceptionally bland.

Once, after the Morning Star Squad completed a three-day, three-night battle against an S-rank Disaster Beast, everyone returned exhausted.

Xu Zhiyuan dragged her injured body home.

She hadn’t seen her sister in nearly a month.

Pushing the door open, the living room was dimly lit, carrying a faint smell of antiseptic.

The scene before her made her eyes darken.

Xu Zhihe was curled up in a corner of the sofa.

Her school uniform was disheveled, the cuffs and pant legs torn.

Her arms and legs were covered in dark purple bruises, some spots oozing blood.

The corner of her mouth was swollen.

She was running a high fever, her cheeks flushed, her forehead covered in cold sweat, her gaze unfocused.

Yet, she gritted her teeth, using trembling fingers to clumsily dab antiseptic onto her wounds with a cotton swab.

Her movements were light. She didn’t make a single sound the entire time.

Even when the pain made her brows furrow slightly, it was only a fleeting reaction.

There was no visible endurance, just a numb sort of calm.

“Xiao He.”

Xu Zhiyuan’s voice held a barely perceptible tremor.

She walked over quickly, knelt before the sofa, and hovered her fingertips above her sister’s wounds, ultimately not daring to touch them.

She pulled out her phone and dialed Ye Ning’s number—at the time, Ye Ning was still Lark of the Morning Star Squad.

They had just finished the mission, and Ye Ning, worried about her injuries, was still waiting downstairs.

When Ye Ning pushed the door open, this was the scene she saw:

Xu Zhiyuan sitting stiffly on the sofa, her expression gloomy, while the Xu Zhihe in her arms was covered in wounds, nearly unconscious.

Ye Ning’s heart sank slightly.

Showing no extra emotion, she walked over quickly, raised her magic wand, and condensed a pale white Light-Bathing mana.

The mana slowly seeped in, soothing the bruises, dispelling the fever, and easing the pain.

Xu Zhihe’s tense body gradually relaxed.

Her unfocused gaze slowly sharpened.

Throughout the entire process, she showed no reaction—neither resistance nor reliance.

As her muddled consciousness was awakened by the mana, Xu Zhihe slowly opened her eyes.

In her blurred vision, she saw a face framed by pinkish-white long hair, surrounded by a soft glow.

Her gaze lingered on Ye Ning’s face for a brief moment.

For once, she seemed a little dazed.

Sensing her gaze, Ye Ning slowed the mana output, reached out to wipe the cold sweat from her temple, and asked gently, “Feeling a little better?”

Xu Zhihe’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to speak, but then closed them again, seemingly unsure how to address her.

“You can call me Lark.”

Xu Zhihe blinked, her cheeks still flushed from the lingering fever.

She opened her mouth and replied in a faint, yet calm voice, “Thank you, Miss Lark.”

There was no extra inflection, no trace of dependence.

It sounded like she was merely responding to a common courtesy.

After Xu Zhihe’s fever had subsided a bit and her condition stabilized somewhat, Ye Ning sat beside her and handed her a glass of warm water.

Watching her take small sips, Xu Zhiyuan finally asked softly, “Xiao He, how did you get these injuries?”

Hearing the question, Xu Zhihe paused her drinking.

Her expression didn’t change noticeably.

She just lowered her eyes, her fingers lightly picking at the corner of the sofa, and remained silent for a moment.

The living room was quiet, filled only with their steady breathing.

After a while, she spoke in a flat, emotionless tone, enunciating each word clearly.

“Classmates at school did it. They mocked my disability. When I went to the restroom, they dragged my wheelchair away, splashed cold water on me, and insulted me.”

There was no grievance or anger in her tone, as if she were narrating a minor incident unrelated to herself.

She paused, then added, “They said I was a burden.”

After saying that, she closed her mouth, offering nothing more.

Her face still held no expression, showing not the slightest emotional fluctuation.

Ye Ning’s brows furrowed slightly, a flash of coldness passing through her eyes, though her tone remained steady.

“Why didn’t you tell your sister?”

Xu Zhihe’s gaze drifted toward Xu Zhiyuan by the window. Her sister’s shoulders were stiff, her fingers clenched tightly, her whole body exuding gloom.

She looked away, her tone flat.

“She’s busy. I didn’t want to cause trouble. It’s fine to just endure it.”

There was no justification, no emotion.

She was simply stating her own thoughts.

Xu Zhiyuan turned around, her expression still grim.

She walked over to Xu Zhihe, reached out, and gently patted her head.

The gesture carried guilt, but her voice was firm.

“I’ve neglected you. We’ll transfer you to a new school tomorrow.”

“We shouldn’t just let this go.”

Ye Ning’s voice sounded calmly, carrying an undeniable firmness.

“Transferring schools treats the symptom, not the root cause. They need to know they were wrong, so they won’t dare bully anyone again.”

That very day, Ye Ning used her status as an S-rank Magical Girl to contact the education department and the school principal, explaining the situation and applying pressure.

The next day, the school responded: the bullies were made to apologize to Xu Zhihe in front of the entire school faculty and student body, received demerits that were recorded in their files, and the class teacher responsible for oversight was also punished.

Ye Ning also specifically had the education department pass on a message, subtly hinting that Xu Zhihe had the backing of an S-rank Magical Girl.

This was to prevent any future bullying, establishing an untouchable reputation for her.

After that, no one dared to bully Xu Zhihe again.

Her classmates kept a respectful distance.

Her school life returned to peace.

Ye Ning also often visited her in her identity as Lark, sometimes bringing snacks, sometimes just sitting with her for a while.

Xu Zhihe always maintained her cold attitude—not actively seeking closeness, but not refusing either.

She just calmly accepted this care.

Ye Ning’s appearance might have brought a touch of different color to Xu Zhihe’s life, but her personality never changed.

Occasionally, she would listen to Ye Ning talk, accept the painting supplies Ye Ning gave her, or quietly lean by the window to watch Ye Ning’s retreating back as she left.

That was all.

There was no obvious softness, no passionate dependence.

But Ye Ning always received gifts from Xu Zhihe—sometimes a painting, sometimes cookies Xu Zhihe had made herself.

The silent girl didn’t know how to express herself with words.

So, she used her clumsy hands to chase after her own light.