Off Work, Then I Become a Magical Girl
Book 2: Chapter 42: Light Snow

Vol 2 Chapter 42: Light Snow

December 11th. Just another regular weekday—except it began snowing again in Fangting City.

The snow had started the previous night and continued steadily into the afternoon of the next day. The city was blanketed in white, and even amid the dead of winter, there was something dreamlike in the air.

Fine flakes tapped gently against the windowpanes, leaving behind faint trails of water that blurred the view outside. Inside the Countermeasure Bureau, warmed by central heating, Lin Yun sat in the Director’s office polishing a teacup. With a sudden sigh, he looked up at the uninvited guest sitting across the desk.

“So… something good happen today?”

Seated across from him was his student and junior colleague, Bai Jingxuan—a regular in his office lately.

The way he phrased it was intentional. He didn’t ask “Why are you here?” or “What do you want?” but instead assumed something pleasant had brought her. Mostly because he couldn’t quite figure out her intentions—and was trying to steer the tone of their conversation in a more cheerful direction.

It was just about time to clock out. Lin Yun had already finished the day’s paperwork and was going over his work summary when Bai Jingxuan suddenly showed up.

Though her visit was unannounced, Lin Yun was used to it by now. Ever since what happened at Spring by the Lake, and perhaps since he had accepted her as a “daughter” in his identity as Veronica, Bai Jingxuan had been coming around more often.

That said, she hadn’t brought up anything dramatic like “exterminate Black Cinders Dawn” again. Most of the time, she just quietly greeted Lin Yun and then sat in his office to read.

And truthfully, it was because she was so quiet that Lin Yun didn’t mind letting her stay.

“Something good?”
Bai Jingxuan seemed even more spirited than usual today. Even while reading, her slightly dangling legs in sneakers kept swinging back and forth, shoes tapping lightly and rubbing together now and then. When she heard his question, she paused and looked up.

“You don’t know?”

He did.

Lin Yun muttered inwardly. In truth, her good mood today had everything to do with Veronica—because today, December 11th, was Bai Jingxuan’s birthday.

Veronica had already informed the team in advance: there would be a small birthday celebration for her that evening at their secret base.

“I had a guess,” Lin Yun replied carefully, knowing full well that someone in his position shouldn’t technically know such specifics. “I’d heard something about today being your birthday?”

“Mhm!”
Bai Jingxuan nodded. “We’re having my birthday party tonight! Are you coming, Uncle?”

Lin Yun kept a straight face, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly at the word uncle.

The title itself wasn’t a problem—in fact, it was probably the most appropriate one between them. The issue was that Bai Jingxuan didn’t used to call him that.

And that… was the real problem.

Not only had she stopped calling him “Dad”—which used to give him a headache—she’d also stopped calling Veronica “Mom,” and had reverted to calling her “Teacher” again.

It had all happened so smoothly, so naturally, that at first Veronica hadn’t even realized something was off. But by the time she did, the change had already solidified.

And as for why it had changed… well, Veronica knew perfectly well. In fact, it was mostly her own fault.

It all went back to that day—the confrontation with Lin Xiaolu at home. After Lin Yun confessed his role in the Countermeasure Bureau and the storm sparked by Hong Siyu’s return had finally died down, the girls had come to better understand—and gradually accept—the “new” team member.

But with that understanding came… new problems.

First, Lin Xiaolu.

After Lin Yun clearly explained his relationship with Hong Siyu—and with Veronica—Xiaolu did stop causing trouble. She no longer teased him with “stepmom” jabs or tried to provoke emotional reactions.

But that peace was one-sided.
Because soon, Veronica noticed something strange in the way Xiaolu looked at her. She would sneak glances with an unreadable expression, then quickly look away and pretend to be doing something else.

Once or twice, that might’ve been nothing. But when it kept happening every single day, even Bai Jingxuan and Xia Liang began to notice.

Then, even more strangely, Lin Xiaolu suddenly got extremely motivated.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried hard before. In fact, she’d always diligently completed the tasks Veronica assigned, never slacking. But lately, that diligence had become borderline obsessive—like she was trying to catch up to Bai Jingxuan.

When Veronica asked her why, Xiaolu’s response was: “I’m the only one out of the three of us who hasn’t awakened her Magical Armor. I’m getting anxious.”

The answer sounded reasonable enough. And Veronica couldn’t push any further—teen girls could be hard to read, and as long as Xiaolu was moving in a positive direction, there was no real need to worry.

If Xiaolu’s changes were merely puzzling, then Bai Jingxuan’s were concerning.

After the Spring by the Lake incident, Bai Jingxuan had clearly been making more effort to speak up. She’d try to insert herself in conversations, assert her presence—trying not to be overlooked by Veronica.

But that changed the night Veronica went home. From that moment on, Bai Jingxuan had become noticeably quieter.

Not silent. Just… no longer the first to speak. If spoken to, she would respond—but never volunteered more.

Veronica might not have noticed at first. Bai Jingxuan had always been quiet. But lately, she’d been paying closer attention.

And by then, the title had already changed back to “Teacher.”

When asked why, Bai Jingxuan gave a simple, almost childish answer:

—“If Uncle and Teacher aren’t planning to get married, then they won’t adopt me, right?”

It was a naive answer. But it hit Veronica hard—because it made too much sense.

The idea of Lin Yun and Veronica getting married had only ever been Xiaolu’s fantasy. Lin Yun had no plans for remarriage.

And if the foundation was false, then everything built on it crumbled too. So from that logic, “being adopted by Lin Xiaolu’s family” was nothing more than a pipe dream. And Bai Jingxuan had figured that out.

That wasn’t the scary part.

The scary part was that she had figured it out, said nothing, and accepted it with a smile.

That meant she didn’t just give up on the idea—she didn’t even think it was worth talking about anymore. She had internalized it. Locked it away as part of herself.

Veronica tried several times to talk about it. Nothing worked. So she eventually brought in Xia Liang, and laid everything out—including the fact that she had allowed Bai Jingxuan to call her “Mom.”

After a somewhat awkward discussion, the three of them came up with a plan: use Bai Jingxuan’s birthday as a way to reconnect and have a heartfelt conversation.

That’s why she had come today—to the Director’s office—to ask if he’d be there.

Clearly, for Bai Jingxuan, this birthday was special. Regardless of the problems that had led up to it, she just wanted to celebrate it with the people she cared about.

Unfortunately… Lin Yun’s answer was already decided.

“…Sorry.”
After much internal struggle, he finally replied, “I have something important I need to handle tonight. I probably… won’t be able to make it.”

If he could, he would’ve split himself in two—so that both Lin Yun and Veronica could attend. But he couldn’t.

Only one of them could be at the party.

As he began thinking about how to soften the blow, trying to find the right words, he was interrupted by a soft giggle.

“Hehe.”
Bai Jingxuan closed her book, smiling just a little. “I figured. Xiaolu already told me you used to miss her birthdays too.”

Lin Yun didn’t know what to say. He forced a wry smile.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I came,” Bai Jingxuan said suddenly.

“…What?”

He looked up in surprise, only to find her smiling brightly, eyes squinting in that innocent, carefree way of hers:

—“If everyone’s going to my party but you can’t, that’s kind of lonely, right? So I came to spend a little time with you first. To share some of my birthday luck.”

The words drifted gently through the room—but they struck Lin Yun speechless.

He stared at the girl in front of him, smiling as if nothing was wrong, and for some reason… his throat tightened. He couldn’t say a word.

Outside, snow kept falling. Even with the heat on, the Countermeasure Bureau’s vast halls still felt cold. Melting flakes sapped warmth from the windows, letting the chill seep in.

But in that moment, Bai Jingxuan’s words changed everything.

It was still winter. But outside, the snow didn’t feel cold anymore.
A strange warmth spread through Lin Yun’s chest, numbing his limbs, making him feel faintly dazed.

After a long pause, he gathered the files on his desk and stood up slowly.

“I really can’t make it to your birthday party.”

He reached out and ruffled her hair. “But… while I still have some time, I can take you to the shopping plaza and get you a birthday gift.”

“I didn’t come for a present!”
Clearly worried he’d misunderstood, Bai Jingxuan puffed her cheeks in protest.

“I know.”
Lin Yun withdrew his hand and opened the office door. “This isn’t about that. I just want to buy you one.”

The sky above was gray and heavy, thick clouds sealing off the sun completely. Though it was just past five, the world outside already looked like night had fallen.

Even on a weekday, the shopping plaza next to the Countermeasure Bureau was buzzing with people—it was the only one nearby, and drew most of the local traffic.

Among that crowd, at some point, a pair that looked very much like a father and daughter joined in. The man, dressed sharply with a calm, professional air, walked slowly through the plaza with a young girl in tow.

Though they said they were here to buy a gift, it really just turned into a stroll. Along the way, Lin Yun took Bai Jingxuan to several spots: the indoor skating rink, the high-end VR experience zone… They weren’t anything new for regular mallgoers, but Bai Jingxuan enjoyed them immensely.

Only in moments like this did she show a rare childlike side—her threshold for joy was remarkably low. No matter what they tried, she threw herself into it with full enthusiasm.

But when it came to actually buying a gift, she grew noticeably hesitant. No matter what Lin Yun suggested, she always resisted. It was clear she thought accepting a gift might make her visit seem less genuine, like she’d come just for the presents.

That mindset made Lin Yun smile helplessly, but he didn’t push her. Instead, they simply wandered the mall, casually window-shopping.

To passersby, they looked exactly like a father walking his daughter through the plaza—pausing now and then in front of toy shops or clothing boutiques, quietly asking for her opinion. The girl usually just shook her head, and the man would smile, resigned, and they’d move on.

Eventually, they slowed down in front of a quiet little craft shop.

Lin Yun had noticed Bai Jingxuan’s gaze—she was staring through the display window.

Following her line of sight, he spotted a carefully made piano-shaped music box, its lid propped open to reveal intricate gears beneath. But the music box was silent—no one had wound it up.

“Interested in that one?”
He leaned down to ask her opinion. But she had already looked away, as if nothing had happened.

“No, just glanced at it,” she muttered, tugging at his sleeve. “Let’s go.”

“You sure?”
Lin Yun didn’t move. “I never said you had to buy it just because you looked. If you want to take another glance, I can wait right here.”

As he spoke, he felt the tension ease from her hand. She wasn’t pulling on his sleeve as firmly anymore—and her eyes drifted back toward the music box. Clearly, she was tempted.

“Go ahead.”
He gestured toward the window and stood off to the side, signaling that he wasn’t going anywhere.

With that encouragement, Bai Jingxuan no longer hesitated. She trotted up to the store and crouched in front of the window, gazing intently at the music box.

Lin Yun followed and stood behind her silently, watching the same display.

When the clerk inside noticed them and started to approach, Lin Yun waved her off from a distance and pointed discreetly at Bai Jingxuan, indicating that he didn’t want to be interrupted.

Several minutes passed before Bai Jingxuan finally looked away from the music box. She turned back toward Lin Yun and said softly, “Let’s go, Uncle.”

“You don’t want it?” he asked.

“No point in buying it.”

For some reason, after staring at the music box, her mood had dipped. She shook her head. “It just looks similar. But it’s not the same one from my memories.”

“What was the one in your memories like?”
Lin Yun pressed gently.

He remembered that Heavenly Melody, Bai Jingxuan’s Magical Armor, took the form of a music box. And a Magical Girl’s armor always had a deep connection to their personal history. Clearly, the music box meant something special to her.

But she didn’t answer him. Not yet.

They wandered the mall for a bit longer. No matter what Lin Yun suggested, Bai Jingxuan kept refusing. What should have been a thirty-minute outing dragged on until nearly six. Eventually, Lin Yun gave up on the idea of buying anything.

If a gift doesn’t bring happiness, it’s better not to give one at all.

After leaving the mall, Lin Yun drove through snow-dusted streets with Bai Jingxuan beside him. The wipers swept across the windshield rhythmically as he focused on the road—until her quiet voice broke the silence:

“When I was little, I was really sick, so I could hardly ever go outside.”

It came out of nowhere, like she was answering a question from long ago.

“So I could only listen to my dad tell me stories. He’d describe what the outside world was like… all the beautiful things out there.”

Her voice was soft, almost like a dream.

“When I had attacks at night and my head hurt too much to sleep, he’d hold my hand by the bed and tell me more stories to calm me down.”

“One day, he said he had to go on a business trip. I didn’t want him to go. So he took a little box out of his bag and put it next to my pillow. He told me it was called a music box.”

“He said if I wound it up, it would play music, and there’d be a little figure that danced. He told me if I couldn’t sleep, just turn it on, and it’d be like he was still there.”

“I didn’t believe him. So he wound it up and let me watch the little figure dance. A while later… I really did fall asleep.”

“After that, the music box became my friend. When I couldn’t sleep, when I was bored and alone, when I was sad… I’d turn it on, and it always made me feel calm.”

“But later… my mom and dad were killed by a Ravager.”

“People in black came and took all their stuff away. I don’t know where the music box went. It was just… gone.”

She paused, sneaking a glance at Lin Yun—but then quickly looked away, as if nothing had happened.

“I thought I didn’t care. I could still remember the melody when I closed my eyes. It was still in my head.”

“But last month, the bad people came. They told me my parents weren’t real. That I wasn’t their child. That I was a Ravager—a monster.”

“They said the headaches were because I was a monster. And the music box? It was something my dad made to control me. That when you played the music, the Ravager would fall asleep. So I’d fall asleep too, and I wouldn’t go out of control.”

Silence returned to the car.

Lin Yun gripped the steering wheel tightly. After a while, he asked quietly:

“Why did you believe them?”

“…Because when I started losing consciousness—when I felt myself turning into something else—one of them started humming.”

Her voice was a whisper, trembling in the snowy silence.

“And the song he hummed… was exactly the same as the one from the music box.”

The car continued down a silver-white road, through the darkened city outskirts. There was no one else around—just the two of them, moving forward through the quiet night.

Lin Yun’s face didn’t change, but his hands tightened again on the wheel.

He understood now.

He understood why none of the Black Cinders Dawn members had survived.

Why the Ravager leader had been mutilated beyond recognition.

After a long silence, Bai Jingxuan spoke again.

“Uncle… they said my name was fake. My parents were fake. My whole identity was fake. That I was a Ravager, just like all those horrible monsters.”

“But they never told me whether my birthday was fake too.”

“So this… this might be the only real thing I have left.”

“I want to be happy today, just like everyone else on their birthday. I want the people I care about to be there. I want to bring the one real thing I have to share with you… so that I can feel like I’m real too.”

“But I’m afraid. What if even this… even my birthday… isn’t real? What would I have left then?”

“What if my birthday was just something someone made up…”

——“When I was little, my family was poor.”

She was suddenly interrupted by Lin Yun’s voice.

He stared straight ahead, not looking at her, speaking as if to himself.

“My dad raised me alone. He was always sick. We had no money. Lived off subsidies and whatever work he could manage when he wasn’t bedridden.”

“There was never money for a cake. But he still insisted on celebrating my birthday. Every year, he’d come home with a bunch of chocolate. Said cake was too sweet—chocolate was better.”

“I never thought much of it.”

“Then one day, I learned about this thing called Valentine’s Day. It’s on February 14th—same day as my birthday.”

“Later, when I was in middle school, my dad passed away. While sorting through his things, I found our household registry.”

“My real birthday wasn’t February 14th.”

“He made it up. Because on Valentine’s Day, the streets are full of cheap chocolate no one wants. He’d just go out and pick some up. That’s how he ‘celebrated’ for me.”

He gave a rare, faint smile.

“All that… just for some dumb reason. And he never told me. Took the secret to his grave.”

He turned to look at her.

“So, what do you think? Is my birthday real? Or fake?”

Bai Jingxuan blinked.

She didn’t smile. She just stared.

Finally, she asked cautiously, “Then… Uncle, what day is your birthday now?”

“February 14th.”

Lin Yun answered without hesitation.

“I haven’t really celebrated it in years. But my birthday is February 14th.”

“...Why?”

“Because that’s the day my father made for me. It’s the day I celebrated year after year. The day full of memories. That’s the birthday of Lin Yun.”

“A birthday is just a date. The day we were born has already passed. No matter how much we cling to it, it’s history.”

“What matters is who’s with you on your birthday today. The people who celebrate with you—those people are real.”

“As long as those people are there, and you all believe in that day, then it is your birthday. That belief makes it more real than anything.”

He let those words settle, then quietly started the car again.

From the passenger seat, Bai Jingxuan murmured, “But… isn’t that just lying to yourself?”

“No,” Lin Yun shook his head. “That’s called being human.”

“We’re defined by the people around us,” Lin Yun said quietly, his gaze still on the road ahead. “Your parents gave you the title of daughter. School gave you the title of student. The Magic Kingdom gave you the title of Magical Girl.”

“We meet people. We grow from those connections. We’re shaped by them—and we shape others in return.”

“If all that sounds too complicated… just remember this one phrase—‘Seeing is believing.’”

“Your parents—whether they were your biological parents or not—if they loved you, protected you, raised you… then they were your real parents.”

“You—no matter what kind of blood runs in your veins, no matter what magic flows through you—as long as you live with kindness, think with clarity, and act like a human… you are human.”

“And the people who claim to stand for justice, who twist the truth and do vile, unforgivable things… they are the monsters. Even more monstrous than the Ravagers.”

“And your teacher…”
Lin Yun paused, carefully choosing his next words.

“No matter what kind of relationship I have with her—whether we’ll ever adopt you or not—if she once made you a promise, and accepted you as her daughter, then that promise stands. Under that promise, you still have every right to call her ‘Mom.’ To treat her as your mother.”

“So it’s fine if you want to call me ‘Uncle,’ but going back to calling her ‘Teacher’... that’s something that’s made Veronica really worried.”

He hadn’t said these things lightly. He’d thought it through deeply.

Because he still remembered—clear as day—that afternoon she came to Spring by the Lake, bubbling over with excitement as she called him “Dad,” explaining everything with shining eyes.

He’d seen it in her face: the anxiety, and the hope.

Veronica had seen it too. That was why she responded—to ease her worry, to answer her longing. That was why she had accepted the title “Mom” and chosen to guide this child forward.

As a senior. As a mentor. As someone who made a promise—Veronica had no intention of backing out. No matter how the situation changed, that commitment remained.

And if it helped, Lin Yun was ready to be honest with Bai Jingxuan, even about his own dual identity.

He hadn’t kept it secret because he didn’t trust her—only because there hadn’t been a need to say it outright. But now, showing her that Lin Yun and Veronica were one and the same… might help her take the next step forward.

To Bai Jingxuan, Lin Yun was little more than a mistaken "Dad"—a label born from misunderstanding, not much more than a name.

But then—

“Then… Dad.”

Her voice cut into his thoughts, soft and unsure.

He turned toward her, surprised. She was curled up in the passenger seat, fingers clenched tightly, her eyes timid but unwavering.

“If it’s okay… I’d like to keep calling you that too,” she said. “Because no matter what, I want to care about more people. Just… a little more.”

Just a little more.

That phrase made the words Lin Yun had been preparing fall silent in his throat.

He looked at her. The sternness in his expression faded. He reached out, ruffled her hair again, and let out a quiet sigh—though he wasn’t sure what he was sighing for.

“…A little more, huh? Alright. I got it.”

Then, seeing her curious look, he finally spoke again:

“Get out. We’re here. Someone’s waiting for you.”

Bai Jingxuan turned to the window—and realized the streets outside looked familiar. They were already in the neighborhood near the secret base. The snowfall had changed the scenery just enough that she hadn’t recognized it at first.

And standing there, framed in the falling snow, was a figure she recognized instantly.

Veronica.

Bai Jingxuan knew it in an instant. Every ounce of confusion she’d felt before evaporated.

She reached for the door—but before stepping out, she turned back and looked at Lin Yun again, as if hoping for something more.

“I really do have something I need to do tonight,” Lin Yun said with a small smile, reclining slightly in his seat. “Go be with your sister and your mom. Dad brought you here, Xiaoxuan.”

The first half of his sentence made her shoulders sink.
But the second half lit her face up again—like someone had flipped a switch.

She stepped out of the car and took a few steps toward Veronica. Then she paused, turned back for one last glance—only to see Lin Yun still sitting there, watching her with that quiet, gentle smile.

She waved. Then turned, and ran.

Her steps grew faster and faster until she was sprinting—and then, in the next moment, she crashed into Veronica’s arms.

She probably didn’t notice that as soon as she left the car, the “Lin Yun” inside dissolved into glowing blue threads of magic.

She probably didn’t notice that the hand that had just touched her head still carried a lingering warmth.

And it didn’t matter.
Not for a girl celebrating her birthday.
Not tonight.

The snow kept falling in the winter night.
Under the soft white glow of the streetlamps, she hugged Veronica tightly. She looked up, mouth opening like she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Not until Veronica took her hand—and then her eyes lit up again.

Finally, with a smile breaking across her face, she spoke.

“Mom!”

And this time, that word—would never change again.