A white ceiling.
Olivia stared at that white for a long time, long enough for her eyes to start aching.
This ceiling was pure white, without even a single light, as white as if someone had taken a brush, dipped it in white paint, and stroked it on stroke by stroke.
She tried to move her fingers.
They moved.
The back of her head throbbed dully, but the wound had already been bandaged.
The gauze rubbed against the pillow with a rustling sound.
She was lying in a white bed, covered with a white blanket, wearing a white nightgown—
Its collar trimmed with a circle of delicate lace, the cuffs gathered into small scalloped edges, the hem reaching her calves.
Then she saw Prunier.
Prunier sat in the chair by the bed, her red twin-tails hanging over her shoulders, the ends brushing the white sheets.
She had her head down, both hands gripping the edge of the blanket, her knuckles white from the pressure.
Her shoulders rose and fell slightly—
Her breathing was very light, as if afraid of waking something.
Olivia’s fingers moved.
The blanket emitted a faint rustle.
Prunier jerked her head up.
Red pupils met silver pupils.
Those red eyes were bloodshot, the rims red, a trace of unwiped moisture hanging from her lower eyelids.
“Little Olivia—”
Prunier bounced up from the chair and threw herself onto the bed.
She wrapped her arms under Olivia’s armpits, pulling her whole body into an embrace.
The red twin-tails fanned out on the white blanket, mingling with the silver hair.
Prunier’s chin rested on top of her head.
Olivia could feel Prunier’s throat vibrating, her chest heaving.
“You’re finally awake.”
The voice came from above her head, muffled, nasal.
“Don’t go out alone again next time.”
Olivia’s face was buried in the hollow of Prunier’s shoulder.
The red dragon’s body temperature was much higher than the silver dragon’s, like a breathing heater wrapping around her whole body.
Her silver eyes were open, staring at the white wall behind Prunier’s shoulder.
Victoria’s words were still spinning in her mind.
‘The First Generation Hundred-Winged Angel. The God of the Scales of the World. Junior. Descendant.’
‘Victoria said, “You should already know the answer.” And she also said that Olivia was her descendant. Descendant. That word wasn’t used casually. Descendant implied bloodline, implied inheritance, implied that the blood flowing in her veins—the silver spreading outward along the eye patterns on the stone pillar—wasn’t entirely draconic. It all felt a bit chaotic, even unbelievable…’
She closed her eyes.
Her silver lashes brushed against Prunier’s shoulder hollow.
Prunier’s arms tightened a little more.
Zijiang took off the cat-ear headphones from her head.
Her pink ponytail was a bit flattened.
The live-stream interface on the screen was still bright, comments still scrolling up.
“Zijiang worked hard today too”
“Get some rest early”
“Streaming tomorrow?”
“Where’s the little sister? Why isn’t she here today?”
“Yeah, what about Olivia?”
“Streamer, where did you hide the little sister?”
“We want to see the little sister”
“The spammers above, reported”
“Reporting doesn’t work, the little sister is mine”
“Olivia isn’t feeling well today, she’s resting.”
Her voice was still sweet, but the tail end wasn’t as upbeat as usual.
“I’ll bring her to play with everyone when she’s better.”
The comment section was full of “Get well soon,” “Take care of her,” “Streamer, you take good care of your little sister.”
Zijiang smiled and was about to close the stream when a private message window flashed.
It wasn’t a fan message;
It was the platform’s official account, with a silver-gray shield as the avatar.
“Respected Streamer Zijiang: The Wolfgang Union Duchy’s annual Knight Tournament will be held in Genitswa at the end of this month. The platform cordially invites you to come and live-stream the event. Travel expenses will be fully covered by the platform, and the live-stream revenue share ratio will be increased by five points. If you are willing, please reply within three days. The audience in Genitswa looks forward to your arrival.”
Zijiang read the private message twice.
Knight Tournament.
Wolfgang Union Duchy—
The place jointly ruled by the wolf clan, dog clan, and horse clan.
Genitswa was the city of knights—
Hardcore, martial, full of wolf knights in armor and horse cavalrymen with lances.
This couldn’t be more unrelated to her streaming style;
It was completely irrelevant.
But the platform said the audience in Genitswa looked forward to her.
She was an outdoor streamer focusing on scenery—
How would she be expected by the Wolfgang audience?
Well, think about it later.
She turned off the stream.
The screen went black, reflecting her own face—
Cat-ear headphones askew, pink pupils looking back at herself.
She took off the cat-ear headphones and placed them on the table.
She’d think about it tomorrow.