Off Work, Then I Become a Magical Girl
Book 1 FInal: Chapter: Night, Dawn, Magical Girl

Volume 1 FInal Chapter : Night, Dawn, Magical Girl

“Thread of Fate” was a weak piece of Magical Armor.

This was once a consensus among the Fangting City Magical Girl Squad.

As the Magical Armor that Veronica obtained when she was still at Bud-tier, Thread of Fate originally appeared to be nothing more than a meaningless tangle of Magic Threads. There were only a few strands, they lacked toughness, and even when used to restrain enemies, they seemed pitifully fragile.

Back then, whenever she faced powerful foes alongside her teammates—while others summoned their own Magical Armor—Veronica could only swing a few threads around, serving as a distraction or meat shield.

Because of this, Veronica didn't rely on her Magical Armor in the early days of her career.

That didn’t mean she gave up on developing it. After all, everyone knew that Magical Armor evolved alongside the growth of the Magical Girl.

And sure enough, her hard work paid off. Thread of Fate eventually began to evolve. The first sign of change came when Veronica was fifteen. She had just advanced to Leaf-tier and awakened her Domain, and for some reason, a small tailoring scissor appeared alongside her threads.

The scissor was so tiny that at first, Veronica didn’t understand its purpose. She assumed it, like the threads, needed time to grow.

But after months of waiting, she realized it wasn’t going to change shape. Repeated trials finally revealed its true use—it had to be used together with the threads.

This discovery soon led to a third evolution of Thread of Fate: a ruler.

Threads, scissors, and a ruler—tools that sounded like part of a sewing kit—when combined, created a power no one could’ve imagined. With them, Veronica at Leaf-tier was able to challenge Ravagers far beyond what her rank should’ve allowed—and even defeat them.

But no matter how powerful, Leaf-tier had its limits. And the strength of their enemies had none.

At age sixteen, during the Garden Defense Battle in the Magic Kingdom, Veronica faced an enemy unlike any before. Her entire guard squad was locked in a desperate fight, many team members near death, and the Kingdom’s capital of knowledge, Luennoré, on the brink of falling.

During that battle, Veronica used a forbidden technique—one said to only be usable once in a Magical Girl’s life. After using it, the user’s True Form would shatter. Death was nearly guaranteed.

Veronica used it. She defeated the foe.

And she survived—but at the cost of her True Form and Magical Armor. Her scissors were nearly destroyed, rendered almost unusable.

“Just a minor injury,” she told herself. She even achieved Ability Blooming after that, officially stepping into Flower-tier.

She continued fighting, continued to shine as a Magical Girl.

Though she distanced herself from the power center of the Kingdom in the aftermath, her heart still burned for battle.

At seventeen, during the so-called Great Disaster and Great Celebration, a once-in-a-century Ravager outbreak struck the Material World. Fangting City’s Magical Girl Squad was pushed to its limits by a monster none of them could defeat.

Seeing her teammates in danger, Veronica hesitated—but once again unleashed the forbidden technique.

She became stronger than ever before and won again. And once more, she didn’t die. But this time, the cost was her ruler.

Unlike the scissors, the ruler didn’t even retain its form. It disintegrated into fragments and vanished from the world.

Alongside it came brutal side effects: her Heartstone cracked like a web, her True Form became damaged, and her abilities as a Magical Girl drastically regressed. Any significant use of magic would trigger severe headaches and further harm her Heartstone. What once was a seamless Domain became an unbearable burden.

In that state, she became a liability to the Fangting City Squad.

Even though the Kingdom granted her the title of Lifetime Magical Girl, even though the Royal Court once invited her to wield the Sapphire Scepter—without power, without the ability to fight, those honors meant nothing in the magical world.

So, against her teammates’ protests, Veronica chose to retire.

Her teammates had already surpassed her. Aya was progressing at a frightening pace, changing day by day. There was no one left who needed her protection.

She was tired. After three years of battle, after defeating unprecedented enemies and saving cities in crisis... she believed her short Magical Girl career had made enough of a contribution. Maybe it was okay to end it here.

In comics, heroes always earned their happy ending after saving the world. The world was vast; it wouldn’t stop turning because one person stepped away. The retirement of one Magical Girl wouldn’t make a dent.

That’s what she once believed.

—"But... that’s not how it works."

Veronica gently closed her eyes.

"Life isn’t a comic story. I’m not the hero from those tales. I didn’t truly solve the problems. I just convinced myself that my sacrifice was enough."

From the day he learned of Aya’s death—when he was no longer Veronica, but just Lin Yun—he’d been tormented by guilt and self-blame.

If he hadn’t retired… if he’d fought alongside Aya… would things have turned out differently?

He didn’t know. Maybe he never would. Aya’s death was like a blaze, reducing their once fairy-tale-like story to ash.

All he could do was replay those burned pages in his mind and drown in endless regret.

He wanted revenge, but he wasn’t without attachments. He knew how powerful Aya had been. He could imagine how terrifying those who killed her must be. If something happened to him during revenge… what would happen to his daughter?

But if he gave up revenge, that poison would continue to burn in his heart.

Countless times, he clung to dreams of the past in sleep. Countless times, he reached for an empty pillow at dawn. His anger and sorrow became an inescapable curse, chaining him to the past.

In the end, all he could do was tell himself:

"I’m just an ordinary person. I can’t, and shouldn’t, think about these things anymore."

He focused on his job, on raising his daughter. That seemed like the most reasonable choice for a single father.

If that had been the end.

If his daughter had never stepped into the magical world.

But when it all began again—when the shadows lurking in Fangting City, and even the entire Donghua Province, surfaced and threatened his daughter—then so-called “normalcy” was meaningless.

"I don’t have lofty ideals. I just want to protect those around me. But I ran away. I failed. I didn’t keep my promise. I didn’t follow my heart."

"Not this time. I won’t let it happen again."

"Black Cinders Dawn, I know what you’ve done. I see the filth you hide behind your actions. No matter what role you played in Aya’s death, no matter what schemes you’re planning in the Material World, no matter your grudges—I have only one message for you."

Veronica lifted her head. Her eyes, overflowing with magic, gleamed like full moons in the night sky.

“Starting today, get the h*ll out of Fangting City. Or I’ll drive you out myself—one by one.”

"Impossible!"

It howled, furious yet powerless. Seeing that retreat was useless, it changed direction and activated its rules again—this time targeting the pair of scissors in Veronica’s hand.

The scissors were part of her Magical Armor, crafted from her own magic. So when Mors used its rules to cover the scissors, it was theoretically possible for it to steal them.

And it succeeded.

In the blink of an eye, the scissors vanished from Veronica’s hand and appeared in Mors’.

“Hahaha! I’ve figured out how to break it!”

Overjoyed, it burst into wild laughter and gripped the scissors with its oddly mismatched, comical hand. “I can use it too! Watch me wield your Magical Armor and—ugh! Guh! Aaaaargh!”

It didn’t even finish its sentence before letting out a bone-chilling wail the moment it touched the scissors. “It hurts! Aaaahhhh—!”

Screaming like a banshee, it clenched the scissors tightly, trying to snip with all its might. But nothing happened. Panicked, it flung the scissors aside, yet the searing pain didn’t stop. Its whole body trembled violently—there was no room for thought, only agony.

Veronica hadn’t said a single word this whole time. She merely held her head, expressionless, watching the scissors appear in Mors’ hand… and then watching as it threw them away, only for her to calmly pick them back up.

“You can’t use them,” she said simply.

“...Impossible! Why?! How can you even wield such Magical Armor? That pain... how are you not feeling it?!”

Mors looked up, roaring in rage. “You knew I’d do this! You rigged your Magical Armor, didn’t you?!”

“I don’t need to.”

Veronica slipped her fingers back through the handles, opening the blades. “I’m used to it.”

“Used to that kind of pain? What the h*ll are you talking about?!”

Mors screamed in denial, but then stopped abruptly when it saw Veronica’s face—cold as ice. And it suddenly realized… she wasn’t lying.

Twice now, Veronica had overdrawn herself. Her True Form damaged. Her Heartstone fractured like a spiderweb. The cost went far beyond weakened abilities. At this point, just using her Magical Armor meant living in constant soul-crushing pain.

And yet, even in this state, she remained composed. She could still think, still analyze the battlefield, still win.

That’s why, in battle, she was always expressionless. Always efficient.

“Are you even human, or just a machine…?” Mors asked, voice cracking. “What the h*ll are you?”

“I’m a Magical Girl,” Veronica said, emotionless, swinging the scissors in her hand. “I exorcise monsters. I protect everyone.”

Snap.

A crisp sound echoed. This time, it wasn’t the scissors that vanished—it was the head of Mors, the Ravager.

The face of the elderly woman appeared again on the beast’s body. Her hair was a tangled mess, her expression panicked. “No, no, no! Impossible! There’s no way! My rules shouldn’t have any flaws! What’s wrong with your Magical Armor?! Why can you hurt me with it?!”

Frenzied, it frantically swept its senses across the space, desperate to locate any inconsistency that could explain this nightmare.

But it found nothing.

In its desperation, its awareness spilled outward—into all the other Ravagers under its control outside the Domain. It saw them—frozen like statues throughout the city. It saw those sleeping deep in the ruins of the Countermeasure Bureau. And it saw Hong Siyu, peacefully sleeping amid a nest of Ravagers.

And then it realized—they were all just like it.

Missing claws, missing limbs, headless. The Ravagers created from human parts had reverted to their original forms. The genuine Ravagers… were simply dead.

All of them were connected by threads—Magic Threads—spun from the Domain and anchored to the massive castle above.

The Domain had been formed from the force of her Soul and Will, not magic alone. That’s why Mors’ rules couldn’t affect it.

These threads—these connections—linked Veronica to the castle and, in turn, to every Ravager. So when the threads were influenced by an unknown rule…

“This is your rule! It’s your rule!” Mors screamed hysterically. “What is it doing?! What’s your rule even supposed to do?!”

Even though its head had reverted to human form, Mors’ scream was still monstrous, its voice shrill with rage. It staggered toward Veronica, trying to stop her.

But she didn’t give it a chance.

“Shared Fate.”

She gently closed her scissors and spoke calmly, “Our lives are bound. What one loses, we all lose. What one gains, we all gain.”

Only now, as it approached her, did Mors truly see what she was doing.

Countless fine threads connected to the massive blue castle. From there, the ends of the threads dangled downward—all converging in front of Veronica.

Each thread represented a life within the Domain—Magical Girls, Ravagers alike. One thread, one life.

All Veronica did… was place her scissors against a single thread.

Mors could feel it—that thread belonged to an Egg-stage Ravager huddled in a corner of the Domain. Just a background pawn among the army.

Veronica had never intended to directly strike Mors. All she had to do… was snip the other Ravagers’ threads.

As she said: shared fate. Gain together. Lose together.

Under her Domain Rule, every living being within it was connected. If one lost something, all lost it. Including Veronica herself.

Because their lives were tied to threads, Veronica only needed to cut the thread to affect the corresponding body part.

This time, she was cutting off… “the Ravager’s body.”

By attaching the concept of Ravager, this was a death sentence. That was their entire being. Once cut, they ceased to exist.

But for those humans who had been transformed into Ravagers, it was like surgery—removing all the monstrous parts, leaving behind only their original human form.

And because of their shared fate, once one experienced that change, so did all others. If one lost its claws, all lost their claws.

That included Mors.

“This is the last cut.”

Calmly watching Mors leap at her, Veronica steadily closed the blades over one more thread.

This cut targeted “the Ravager’s torso”—the final part of Mors that still qualified it as a Ravager.

“Stop! I said STOP! You have to stop!”

Mors shrieked like mad, casting spell after spell to block her. “Didn’t you hear me?! You lunatic! Stop!”

Snap.

The blades closed. The thread severed.

Something happened… or maybe nothing at all.

But in the next moment, the massive Ravager bodies vanished. The ones frozen in the city, the ones asleep in the ruins—all gone.

And with them, the colossal blue castle. All of it disappeared into the night.

Like a fairy tale breaking its spell at midnight, everything magical, fantastical, and unreal dissolved with a crisp little snap.

Cinderella’s ball was over.

Reality returned.

People stared blankly around, unable to process what had happened. Were the Ravager attacks just a dream? If not for the damage still visible on buildings, they might have believed so.

No one noticed that as the Ravagers vanished, unfamiliar humans appeared in the ruins—sleeping soundly.

And in the center of it all, in the scorched heart of the city, Veronica stood with her scissors, quietly facing Mors.

The massive moth-like Ravager was gone. Only an old woman in a tattered black robe remained, kneeling in shock, staring at her empty hands.

All that remained… was a tiny, dark-purple gemstone.

“My experiments… my plan… my power… my revenge…”

She looked up at Veronica. “What did you do?! Without all this, how am I supposed to take revenge on the Magic Kingdom? How am I supposed to kill those high-and-mighty ruling Magical Girls?!”

“What gives you the right to do this?! You’re just a broken-down former Flower Card! Your Magical Armor is half-destroyed! You can barely use your powers! What right do you have to take all this from me?!”

“That rule… that insane rule… what makes you worthy of wielding it?!”

“‘Shared fate’? Bllshit! Just because you framed it as a Ravager concept doesn’t mean you don’t pay a price! Aren’t you Magical Girls supposed to sacrifice nothing?!”

“Why didn’t that kind of power cost you anything?!”

Veronica calmly looked at her.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “Everything has a price.”

Crack. Craaack.

With her words, the little sewing scissors in her hand—already covered in fractures—let out a final snap. The cracks spread all across the blades… until the scissors shattered into a hundred pieces.

Before Mors’ eyes, Veronica’s scissors crumbled, just like the ruler she’d lost before. As a tool of Life-Weaving, the scissors had fulfilled their final purpose. And now, they vanished completely.

“Rules are rules. Magical Armor is Magical Armor. If you use the latter to manipulate the former, there will be a cost.”

Veronica didn’t seem to notice the loss at all. “Now, neither of us has rules anymore.”

Mors ignored her. She stared at the shattered fragments, wide-eyed, trying to tell if it was real. When she realized Veronica couldn’t reassemble it, she gave a bitter, shaky laugh.

“Your Magical Armor?! The cost was your Magical Armor?! Hahahaha!”

She struggled to her feet, golden hair matted with monster fluid, stuck to her face. “You’re insane! You’re an absolute maniac! You destroyed your own Magical Armor just to weaken me?! What kind of lunatic Magical Girl are you?! You’ve got something wrong in your head!”

“Between my Magical Armor and this city… between my power and my juniors… I know which one matters more.”

Veronica shook her hand, glanced at her palm in a daze, then looked up again. “Just a pair of scissors. I traded it for a miracle. I’ve already gained far more than I lost.”

“Maniac… maniac…” Mors muttered, standing upright. “Hahaha! Maniac! You self-harming nutjob!”

“Coming from you, that’s rich.”

Veronica exhaled slowly and stepped forward. “Honestly, that’s the funniest thing you’ve said tonight.”

“Still bluffing?!”

Mors glared at her with venom in her eyes, a deranged grin twisting her mouth. “You can’t use the Domain anymore! Your Magical Armor is gone! You barely have any magic left! How do you expect to beat me now?!”

“I still have my magic, my spells. I’ve got more reserves than you. I’m in better shape. My Beast Core may be gone—but I’m still stronger than you!”

“Trump for trump, wildcard for wildcard—when the big cards are gone, it comes down to whose hand has better value, idiot! What do you even have left to trade with me? Admit it! You’ve lost!”

“You’re done. I’m going to tear you apart. I’ll make you regret everything you’ve done tonight. And those little brats over there won’t escape either! I’ll make sure they—”

Bang!

“OW!”

With a dull thud and a screech, Mors went flying.

Veronica retracted her fist, calm as ever. She raised her hand and rolled up the sleeve of her dress skirt, revealing a slender, pale arm—and a pair of fists that looked completely unthreatening.

But just now, it was one of those fists that had nailed Mors square in the face.

“You done talking?” she asked coolly.

“What the h*ll is wrong with you?!” Mors yelled, scrambling up and holding her face.

"I don’t want to hear your bllsht anymore. Let’s end this."

Veronica raised her chin expressionlessly and lifted her fist. “Next, I’m going to smash that filthy face of yours with my fist, you piece of trash.”

“With your fists...?”

Mors stared blankly after hearing her words, then suddenly burst into laughter. “Hahaha! With your fists? Bring it on if you think you can! You psycho!”

But before she could even stand up fully, a surge of blue magic flared in front of her. A blue streak flashed by—and in the blink of an eye, Veronica was already right in front of her.

Then a fist slammed hard into her face again.

Boom!

This time, Mors was thrown into the air like she’d been hit by a freight train, flying straight into the remains of a half-demolished building, smashing a rain of bricks and rubble everywhere.

Veronica stood where she had launched from, fist still raised, staring coldly at the shattered building. “Good.”

Magic flared beneath her feet, and in a flash, she launched again like she had vanished from sight.

Mors would never understand why a Magical Girl was so good at hand-to-hand combat.

What she didn’t know was that when Veronica first received Fateweaver, in order to make up for her Magical Armor’s weakness in combat, the solution she came up with—was martial arts.

If the Magical Armor wasn’t enough, magic still existed. All she needed was a set of supporting spells to block long-range attacks, and the rest could be handled up close.

So, hand-to-hand combat was actually Veronica’s specialty.

Blue magic trails flashed through the building over and over. Mors was like a ping-pong ball, getting smacked through the air repeatedly without the slightest chance to fight back.

Every punch landed squarely on her face. Again and again, her nose, her jaw, her entire head felt like it was spinning—she couldn’t even tell where she was anymore.

At first, she had sneered at Veronica’s seemingly flashy attacks, but when the heavy blows started crushing her nose and shattering her jawbone, fear crept in.

She finally realized why Veronica chose to fight this way—to vent.

Every punch slammed into her face, not for justice, not for a mission—just pure, seething rage.

Her teeth flew, her nose crumbled, and no matter how enhanced her body was, Mors couldn’t endure this kind of punishment.

“Ah! Haven’t you had enough?!”

She struggled to fight back, swinging clumsily at Veronica. “You brainless bull!”

She managed to land a punch on Veronica’s arm and screamed, “Who do you think you are? Some righteous hero? You’re nothing but a stray dog abandoned by The Kingdom!”

“The Royal Court’s cruelty and your own cold heart brought you to this state, and you still talk about justice? You’re here to judge me?”

“Look at you—barbaric, hideous. Do you even know what those high-and-mighty Jewel Scepters are doing right now? While you’re out here fighting to the death, they’re sipping tea and wine and sleeping soundly!”

“I declared war on them! I was going to crush their rule—and you ruined everything! I’ve got nothing left!”

Another heavy punch from Veronica sent Mors crashing to the ground. Still, she clawed her way back up, emotionally unhinged. “You don’t understand my hatred! I’m the one who’s right! I am justice! There’s no way I should lose!”

“Ordinary people can’t fight The Kingdom. Only by using Ravager power could I even think of getting revenge. If I didn’t go this far, how could I even fight back?”

“You Magical Girls will never understand the helplessness of ordinary people. Chosen at a young age, given power far beyond our reach. We magic users could train all our lives and never catch up! How is that fair?!”

“Such despair! A mortal trying to rise against those almighty Magical Girls—what else could I do? What choice did I have but the power of the Ravagers?!”

“You call me evil? Trash? Then tell me—if you had a daughter, and she died for nothing, ignored by The Kingdom, no honor, no gain—what would you choose?”

“If all you could do was attend your daughter’s funeral in silence, with no way to vent your pain, what other path of revenge would you take but this one?!”

She grabbed Veronica by the collar, face-to-face, screaming, “You don’t get it at all, Veronica!”

“…I have a daughter.”

Veronica suddenly spoke.

She looked at Mors with a blank face, voice low enough that only they could hear: “She’s a Magical Girl too. A few months ago, she encountered your people when she was just getting started.”

“If one day, she dies because of The Kingdom, I’ll find the ones responsible and settle it with them. But right now, like I said—I only have one thing to do.”

She locked eyes with Mors. “I won’t let her be in danger. Before anything happens, I’ll smash the faces of anyone who threatens her safety. I’ll beat scum like you until your face matches your filthy soul.”

Mors stared at her in a daze.

She tried to grasp what Veronica meant—then suddenly seemed to piece something together. “It’s you! So that’s it! I get it! I don’t get it! How is this even possible?!”

“That’s why you weren’t affected when we met! That’s why you always showed up the moment that man was in danger! That’s why you took Sakura’s death so hard!”

“Hong Siyu, that b*tch! She lied to me! She kept the most important thing from me!”

She yanked her hand free, using her size to shove Veronica to the ground and grabbed a handful of her hair. “You’re hiding something! You’ve got a massive secret! I have to win! I need to know what you’re hiding! I still have a chance!”

The two of them rolled across the ground, brawling like low-level thugs. Nothing like a magician and a Magical Girl—just a brutal street fight. It looked even at first, but soon, Veronica somehow gained the upper hand. She seized the momentum and slammed her fist into Mors’ nose again.

Splurt!

The already-injured nose finally gave out, blood spraying everywhere.

Veronica clenched her jaw, eyes bloodshot, saying nothing. She pinned Mors down, straddled her, and began punching her face—again, and again, and again.

In the ruins, only the sickening sound of fists smashing flesh echoed.

Expressionless, Veronica’s white knuckles were stained red, but she didn’t even notice.

Mors’ screams grew weaker amid the blood. Finally, she couldn’t even make a sound.

Her face was a mangled mess, so deformed it no longer looked human. Blood smeared everything; her features were unrecognizable.

“You’ll end up just like me.”

Suddenly, she muttered, dazed. “That hatred on your face, that hidden brutality inside you—it’s the same path that brought me here.”

“…I won’t.”

Veronica lowered her fist, brushing the blood off her cheek. “I won’t lose myself to revenge.”

“You will.”

Mors’ voice trembled. “One day, you’ll see the truth about hatred. You’ll understand how this world really works. And when you do, the only path left for revenge… is destruction.”

She swallowed hard. “Look at your face—that monstrous rage. You’ll be consumed by it. Your ending won’t be any better than mine.”

Smack!

Another punch, this time to the mouth. A few more teeth flew out.

Veronica raised her fist again, stared silently at Mors for a long moment—then finally let go and stood up.

“Anya’s death. What’s Black Cinders Dawn’s involvement? Who? Tell me who was part of it. Give me a name—I’ll make it quick.”

“Huh… huh…”

Mors, bleeding heavily, looked back at her. She couldn’t scream anymore, but she gave a strange little smile.

She opened her bloody mouth and mumbled, “It’s already too late…”

“What are you talking about?” Veronica frowned.

“In this world of the strong devouring the weak, you either eat others or get eaten. We’re all food on a plate… pawns on a board…”

She widened her eyes, drawing Veronica’s attention, then suddenly lunged with a clawed hand—straight for Veronica’s eyes.

“The moment the Saint-making Project succeeded, and the Saint descended, we lost all choice. We became puppets—!”

Even in her battered state, she struck with terrifying speed—a final burst, a dying flash.

But she never stood a chance.

The moment her hand moved, a blade of magic pierced through her skull, pinning her to the ground.

Veronica had used Masterpiece to end her.

She might have lost the scissors, but the threads remained. As the last form of Fateweaver, Masterpiece was still very much in play.

She stood up. Light-blades coalesced around her, then plunged into Mors’ vital points one after another. Only when Mors lay dead, eyes wide open, did Veronica finally call them back.

Staring into those lifeless eyes, she slowly unclenched her bloodied fists.

Mors—the “Moth,” Black Cinders Dawn’s former First Ember, Bureau Director of the Countermeasure Bureau in Fangting City, and the culprit behind the sacrificial events in Donghua Province over the past two years—was finally dead.

And yet… the rage in Veronica’s heart still boiled. Her hatred surged like a storm. She stared at the pale light of dawn creeping over the horizon, and felt an empty hollowness.

The Moth was dead. So what now?

She had avenged Hong Siyu. Avenged the danger Lin Xiaolu once faced. And then what?

“You’ll end up just like me.”

Mors’ last words echoed absurdly in her mind—but now, feeling the emptiness, Veronica vaguely understood the emotion behind them:

She wanted to keep going. To find more enemies. And personally destroy them all—

“Veronica?”

A sudden voice called out from behind her.

She didn’t even have to turn around to know—her daughter, Lin Xiaolu.

She turned slowly, her slightly reddened blue eyes meeting the figures approaching. Lin Xiaolu and Bai Jingxuan were helping Xia Liang, limping over together.

Lin Xiaolu looked at Veronica with hesitation—worry and… fear?

Fear?

Was she scary now?

Veronica wondered.

Looking at the three girls, she suddenly found herself at a loss for words. She realized—revenge, especially bloody revenge like this—was something children should never see.

Even if they would grow up and eventually understand… she didn’t know how to explain it now.

She and Lin Xiaolu simply looked at each other in silence.

How familiar this was.

Veronica suddenly remembered—once, as a father, she had kept everything from her daughter, never letting her see, never letting her help. He thought it was protection. But to a child, it was just arrogance.

If she stayed silent again, if she hid everything again, would it happen all over…

“Let’s go home.”

Veronica’s thoughts were cut off—Lin Xiaolu spoke.

There was still some confusion on her face, but her gaze was unwavering. She reached out her hand.

And in that moment, Veronica was pulled back two years—

When Anya died. When she and her daughter had a huge fight. When her daughter ran away, hiding out at a friend’s place, saying nothing to her.

Lin Yun searched the streets for her, only finding her because her friend’s parent slipped up. When he found her—he had stood at the door, beaten and tired, while Lin Xiaolu stood inside, hesitant.

But back then, he had reached out his hand.

He’d said: “Let’s go home.”

Veronica instinctively reached out—then realized her hands were covered in blood. Horrific, grotesque.

She didn’t want to stain her daughter.

So she pulled her hand back.

Reality and memory overlapped. She was back in that hallway again, staring at her little girl from across the threshold—as if they lived in two different worlds.

But this time, the girl moved.

Lin Xiaolu suddenly dashed forward, her face shifting to that of her 14-year-old self. She ran straight to Veronica, grabbed her bloodstained hand—and held it tight.

“Let’s go home,” she said again—seriously, sincerely.

In that moment, the cage of memory shattered.

Veronica returned to the morning light, full of life and warmth.

The girls were all watching her—some serious, some worried, some in awe.

Ah, whatever.

She thought quietly.

Then opened her arms, smiled faintly—and embraced the girls tightly.