Chapter 1: There is no one in this world worth your trust, myself included.

The City of Stars sits at the heart of the continent, nestled in a corner of the vast barrier of the Forest of Fading Radiance. It is a city of immense scale and ancient history, its dark walls appearing dull and archaic.

Beyond these walls lie scattered, tiny villages, and through the fields between them, a silver-haired girl walks with tranquil composure. She appears to be moving slowly, yet in reality, her pace is swift. For instance, the five or six miles she has traveled from the city walls took her only a few minutes. This is faster than most people can run, but she merely walks.

Eventually, she stops before a solitary wooden cabin. It is a humble structure with a small vegetable garden enclosed by a fence. The greens within are lush and vibrant, clearly tended with great care by the owner. The girl walks past the garden and steps through the wooden door.

Her expression is so calm it borders on indifferent. Inside, a man wearing an apron stands at the stove.

"Little Star, you're back," the man greets her with a warm smile. "I brought you something good today. You’d never guess what it is."

The silver-haired girl does not nod; she does not even acknowledge him. She simply sits down at the table in the living room, waiting for the meal.

The man works for a long time before setting the dishes before her one by one: stir-fried garlic sprouts with egg, shredded bamboo shoots with cured meat, preserved egg with jellyfish, and red-braised lion’s head meatballs. The soup is tomato and egg drop, and the rice is plain white. Four dishes and one soup.

The man places the final dish and sets a bowl of rice before her. Only then does the girl give a slight nod. She begins to eat.

Her eating habits are governed by absolute regularity. With the four dishes before her, she starts with the garlic sprouts and eggs, moves to the bamboo shoots and meat, follows with the preserved egg and jellyfish, and ends with the lion’s head meatballs. She takes only one chopstick-full of each dish, paired with a mouthful of rice, repeating the cycle until the bowl is empty. Then, she fills the bowl with soup and drinks it in one go.

She shows no preference for any particular food. Even with a large meatball like the lion’s head, she uses her chopsticks to break off an equivalent portion rather than taking the whole thing.

"Could you tell me, what is it that you truly like to eat?" the man asks, smiling as he picks at his own meal across from her. "Whether I intentionally make it taste terrible or put my heart into making it delicious, you always finish your portion with the same impartiality. Don't you find that boring?"

The girl does not answer. She simply lifts a hand and makes a silent gesture—a signal for silence. She wants the man to shut up. In this home, the girl rarely engages in any unnecessary interaction; when she wants the man to be quiet, she does not even want to speak to him to tell him so.

The man goes silent and sighs. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a peculiarly shaped glass bottle and a clear glass. He opens the bottle and pours the strange, dark-brown liquid into the glass. The liquid hits the sides, creating countless tiny bubbles that burst to form a delicate layer of dark foam at the top.

The girl does not even glance at it before standing up.

"Xi Che made these drinks in the City of Leaf Night. I finally had a chance to buy some. Don't you want to try it?" the man says behind her.

The girl stops. She turns, drains the dark-brown drink in one breath, and gazes quietly at the man. She calmly raises one finger. The finger is straight, thin, and fair, like a tender scallion stripped of its leaves.

But the man understands the gesture. It means: *Run.*

The girl grants those she is destined to kill a three-second window of consideration. If you turn and flee, there is a chance she will not pursue you, unless you carry a specific execution order.

The man smiles, looking at her with composure. "Is there any point? Even if I run now, you will either choose to chase me down and kill me, or you will remain here and be killed by those people. What is the meaning in that?"

The girl does not speak. She stubbornly raises a second finger. She only ever counts to three.

The man sighs. He says nothing more, just stands there, watching her quietly. "May I at least clear the table first?"

The girl pauses and lowers her fingers. The man whispers his thanks and turns to carefully tidy the table. The girl has eaten her rice completely clean, as if it had been licked, though much of the food remains, as her methodical way of eating prevents her from consuming much. He takes the four dishes to the kitchen. He usually finishes whatever she leaves behind; if he cannot finish it at lunch, he saves it for dinner, and if it remains then, he keeps it for the next day. Eventually, it will all be eaten.

The man does not delay. He tidies the table with his usual calm habit. Ten minutes later, he is finished and returns to stand before the girl.

"Do you know?" the man says softly. "To be a weapon means to obey orders completely. Those who wield weapons can kill any enemy standing in their way. So, no matter who you are told to kill, you cannot hesitate. Only then do you have a chance to survive."

"I don't know."

For the first time, the girl speaks. Her voice is strained, clearly unused to being used. Even so, there is no emotional inflection in her tone.

The man smiles. "I know you are afraid of killing me, but the very existence of fear is a mistake. You are afraid of knowing me, afraid of understanding me, afraid of killing everyone you know and care about, so you simply choose not to know or care for anyone at all."

"But we have lived together for so long. You would have grown accustomed to even a puppy, let alone the man who has cooked for you for all these years. But you know—you have no other choice."

"I don't know," the girl repeats.

She seems to only know this one phrase. Of course, she is not truly limited to it, but she knows her own fate, while remaining ignorant of whether any other fate exists for her.

"I..." the girl begins, attempting to say another word, but she stops.

Across from her, the man makes a gesture—the sign for silence. It is the same gesture the girl has often used on him, and now, it is her turn to see it.

"I knew a long time ago. About your identity, your origins, and the reason you were sent to me. You were simply too likable, and I wanted to know why someone like you could be so endearing. Then, I investigated, and I learned much."

"I am a man who committed a great error. To help me, some people went to great lengths to send you to me. Some of them truly wanted me dead, while others hoped that I would kill you, so that I might regain my freedom and strength."

The man speaks to her in a rambling, gentle way. "But I have lived a little longer than you, and I have gathered a few more insights about this world. I taught you many things, though you never truly called me 'Teacher.' Even so, I will teach you one last lesson today."

"Do you remember? There is no one in this world worth your trust, including me. The concept of solitary survival has been an eternal proposition since the moment of birth. Everyone has their own secrets, myself included."

"I hope to leave with my secrets, just like an ordinary existence."

As he says this, the man suddenly raises his hand, striking toward the girl's heart with lightning speed. Both the velocity and the force are enough to kill her.

But the girl’s attack is faster. Even though the man moved first, the girl’s hand-blade pierces his heart. A freezing aura instantly spreads from the wound throughout his body.

The girl’s expression, however, is one of bottomless confusion. This was all instinct. Her hands moved faster than her thoughts. The moment she sensed the attack, she reflexively launched a counterstrike.

"I..." the girl says, sounding lost.

"You did well," the man says with a smile. "I hope that in the journey of your life ahead, you will still be able to find someone who can cook for you."

The man before her smiles as he slowly freezes, then shatters into a pile of crystalline ice shards.