The clandestine meeting could not afford to linger. Time itself was a currency here, and its prolonged expenditure would breed speculation outside these walls. Onlookers would weave narratives: that the Minister was stalling, disseminating deliberate misinformation, or—more dangerously—that he was genuinely investing precious minutes because Oxus possessed something of tangible worth. For a man of his stature, time was not squandered on trivialities. Where it was paid, value was expected in return. So, where did Oxus's value lie?
In her current performance? Please. This wasn't some pulp novel or melodramatic stream where an underdog's sudden sparkle would make grand figures swoon with fascination or cold beauties thaw into curious affection. What a fantasy. For individuals like the Minister, the Empire's pool of talent existed precisely to serve the machinery of the state. The pool was full of fish; their privilege was to net the ones grown plump or particularly promising. They were the last to need anxiously court a mere 'genius.' That desperate chase was reserved for when talent had already crystallized into formidable power, into a force. As of now, no provincial prodigy, no matter how monstrous, warranted such individualized attention from a Minister—not before crossing the threshold of Level 70. They simply weren't qualified.
Therefore, Oxus's worth must be tethered to the case. What conjectures simmered within the TK Group? What theories fermented in the minds of outsiders? Meanwhile, the students of the four great academies were consumed by a singular, earth-shattering scandal. Campus network forums exploded. A wave of communal despair crashed through the interconnected districts of Beluke City.
"Holy stars! Lange is pregnant? And Oxus is the father?!"
"Is it dawn yet? Why does the world feel so dark, like perpetual midnight?"
"That damn duckling, that bean sprout of a man… served as quite the dish! How is this even biologically possible? I thought scum like him came from a lineage cursed with infertility! Ah, my goddess!"
"My youth has fled, never to return..."
"Unlike you, my 'youthful bird' flew out, and flew back with a swollen belly."
Sniffle… Sob…"My Sister Lange… Hic… Hic…"
It was said liquor sales spiked tenfold that day in city markets. Thousands of students, far exceeding campus curfew, littered the streets—a legion of heartbroken, inebriated souls. Main thoroughfares witnessed the surreal spectacle of brawny young men clinging to each other, weeping unabashedly, howling off-key love ballads that morphed into curses directed at a certain 'Xie the Duck.'
Bewildered citizens could only theorize that provincial academic pressures had finally snapped, and the youth needed… liberal outlets. Some students, novices to alcohol, overindulged to the point of physical distress, their stomachs rebelling. Good Samaritans gathered these wretches, delivering them to the nearest sanctuary: the Sage's Clinic.
Yao was on the night shift. The late hour brought a tide of intoxicated youths, the air thick with the sour-sweet stench of cheap spirits and despair. She sighed inwardly, assuming the stress of the quarterly assessments had finally broken them. "Drunkenness. Some stomach-soothing and system-regulating tonics will suffice," she instructed the nurses, her voice a calm contrast to the groaning chaos. Settling at her desk, she examined the one who seemed worst off.
He looked familiar. Hong Yan?
Her gaze lingered only a moment before flicking away. "Can you walk?" Her tone was professional, detached. "I'm the physician. I need to administer a clarity aura and medication. If you consent, make a sound."
Unless completely unconscious, consent was mandatory for treatment—a cardinal rule. Hong Yan hovered in that twilight between stupor and awareness. A voice, cool and clear, pierced the fog. Mumbling, he lashed out, "Xie, that old dog… that trash…"
Though slurred, the meaning was unmistakable. Yao felt a wry twist in her chest. Months past the entrance exams, and he still held a grudge?
"I'll ask once more. I intend to proceed with treatment. Do you consent? You may resume your cursing afterward, if you wish."
That voice… It stirred something, a faint memory that made his ears feel oddly warm, his heart itch. He struggled to pry his eyes open, but the world remained a bleary watercolor. "No… I won't… That trash Oxus… Sob… Lange, my Lange… Wail…"
Yao: "?"
As if orchestrated, Hong Yan's lament ignited a chain reaction. A dozen other students burst into synchronized bawling, a chorus of profound, world-ending grief. The nurses stood frozen, bewildered. A plump nurse, midway through a powdered donut, mumbled around a mouthful, "Huh? Did… did someone pass? A mourning session? Did Oxus die, or Lange?"
The misunderstanding was almost logical.
Yao pinched the bridge of her nose, then flicked a wrist. A soft, golden nimbus settled over Hong Yan, forcing a measure of calm into his system. A nurse ventured, "Physician Fu, should we silence them? They'll disturb the other patients."
"Unnecessary. The young are always passionate, ruled by the tempests of the heart." Yao tapped the wall. Luminescent vines of light sprouted and climbed, weaving a sound-dampening barrier. She turned to leave. "Let them weep."
The younger nurses watched her retreating back, clasping their hands to their cheeks with sighs. "Ah, Physician Fu is so gentle, so compassionate…"
An older nurse, glancing at Yao's prescription list, offered a knowing smile. Gentle, indeed. The medicines prescribed were the most bitter, most expensive concoctions, and required forceful ingestion—thick, dreadful potions. These lads were in for a night of truly swallowing their sorrows.
By four in the morning, the shift ended. Too late to return to her quarters, Yao retreated to Master Liu Wushi's study in the clinic's rear courtyard. The room smelled of aged parchment, dried herbs, and stillness. She had barely settled with a text when her communicator chimed—a list, a compilation of intelligence from the four academies. Surprised, she saw it was from Yuqin. The document detailed the final points rankings refreshed in the last fifteen minutes before midnight. Yuqin sent it, convinced of its significance.
Yao held a genuine fondness and respect for the younger girl's judgment. If Yuqin deemed it valuable, it was. Her eyes scanned the data, and a flicker of surprise disturbed her calm.
"Tom of North Frontier Academy (Shadow-Eave Lynx, Aberrant Spirit lineage). Admitted via special policy to Class E. Four months in, now ranked fifth in the North Frontier cohort."
"Similar case: Czech of South Dawn Academy (Soaring Glow-Mouse, Aberrant Spirit lineage). Ranked fourth at South Dawn. But more startling is a human, Jiang Yousi, also at South Dawn. One year enrolled, social admission channel, Class E… now ranked third."
A thoughtful frown touched Yao's lips. The feline and rodent Aberrants had inherent racial traits and lineages, mitigating their need for purely human mentorship; the academies were primarily resource pools for them. But Jiang Yousi was purely human, entering through the same disadvantaged channel, confined to Class E, yet exploding to third in such a short time. While she and Wei Mingtang had achieved faster rises, the contexts differed utterly. Given a year, could they have reached such heights? This was the anomaly that caught Yuqin's eye. Or perhaps, Yuqin sensed a threat to Oxus in these names. Yet she hadn't sent this to Oxus, but to Yao. A subtle, telling action. Even if she couldn't comprehend the duality, her instincts still linked the two as one.
Yao committed the three names to memory, then scrolled further, absorbing the details of each academy's current top rankers. West Jin's First: Frolosius. North Frontier's First: Modorola. South Dawn's First was no longer the perennial Wuxu, but Haimosi, who had catapulted from fifth place, toppling the previous hierarchy. South Dawn wasn't just seeing E-class challengers; its entire S-class leadership had been overthrown, a seismic reshuffle. East Glory remained relatively stable: First was still Zhao Ranxue, though the gaps to second-place Carolodiel and third-place Little Magic Flute were razor-thin.
The greatest turbulence, the most thrilling upheaval, belonged to South Dawn. Even East Glory, with its A-class humiliation by Oxus and Wei Mingtang, paled compared to the tectonic shifts there.
Yao propped her chin on her hand, absorbing it all. Later, she cross-referenced admission records from previous years. A pattern, faint but discernible, emerged. This year… the number of 'disruptors' seemed unusually high.
"The era of Qin Minfeng's arrival is the era of gathering storms, of mortal turmoil, of divine descent…" She recalled flavor text from the game's later stages. But having met Qin Minfeng, she saw him not as the storm, but as the butterfly whose flapping wings were credited for a hurricane on another continent. The true terror lay in the chain of causality itself. "And what creates such causal chains… are the forces that set them in motion." A chill, unrelated to the room's temperature, touched her spine. "And is there only one Qin Minfeng in this world?" She thought of herself. Was there only one Yao?
Wei Mingtang had become a stable, if silent, client. Three days passed before her communication arrived. "When will you have more Minor Celestial Scripts?"
Yao responded, "One every half-month, from now on."
A pause. Wei Mingtang was undoubtedly startled. The interval was far shorter than anticipated, implying Yao either didn't need them as urgently as assumed, or… The thought was disquieting. Logically, Oxus's progress in comprehending Arcane Principles wasn't astronomically fast. For her to part with such a premium resource so readily meant she either saw no threat in Wei Mingtang, or… her production speed and profit margin allowed her to both supply herself and sell. The latter possibility was unsettling. She might be witnessing the birth of an alchemical monster.
"Agreed." Wei Mingtang wasn't one for superfluous conversation or prying. The deal struck, that should have been the end. Yet…
"Congratulations on your impending fatherhood."
"Thank you."
Then, a digital 'red envelope' appeared. Yao blinked, touched by the unexpected courtesy, and opened it.
6.66 Green Coins.
GreenCoins. Green. 666.
Yao: "?"
Was this layered with subtext, or was she imagining things? Had some flaw in her and Lange's act been exposed?
Elsewhere, Lange reclined on a sofa, one leg gracefully curled beneath her, a hand supporting her temple. Seeing the solitary question mark sent in reply, she didn't respond. Instead, she swiped through images on her tablet, her gaze pausing on a picture of her own, pale-faced self. Perhaps not even the Dean or her mentors knew the full extent of her… condition. They couldn't know how the very affliction that brought her excruciating pain and desperation also granted her a grotesque sensitivity to certain energies—like curses. The first day, the first moment she laid eyes on 'Lange,' she had seen it: a terrifying, deeply entrenched curse woven into her very being. But its fluctuations were odd, sometimes waning, sometimes surging. A normal entity's curse resonance was stable, especially for an Arcane Master of formidable talent and lineage. Only one condition caused such instability in a woman: pregnancy. Therefore, Oxus's 'fiancée' had been pregnant from the very first day on campus. The timing of their 'contract' and engagement aligned perfectly. The logic was seamless: pregnancy first, then the necessary partnership with Oxus, the convenient 'father.' Her subsequent observations of their performances… impeccable. No flaws. Oxus's dedication even surpassed 99% of real fathers. Professional. 666. But what could force the Fu siblings into such a desperate charade? Only one answer: the pressure from one of the four Orange-Blood families. The question was, which one?
Dawn arrived. Yao rose to find the academy's ranking rewards already placed on the table. Alongside hers were Lange's rewards and a separate, congratulatory 'pregnancy gift pack' from the academy. Polite, but Yao left it untouched, acknowledging it as Lange's domain, taking only her own.
Lange emerged from her room, her complexion significantly improved. Yao's assessing glance confirmed her recovery, rendering further questions unnecessary. While Yao's demeanor was cooler now, lacking yesterday's performative tenderness, Lange found it more comfortable. This was the agreed distance. Business was business; the act was the act.
"From the academy?"
"Mn. As a transfer, your previous points don't count. Ranked 23rd for the quarter. Why not push harder?" Yao inquired, curious.
Lange, examining her rewards, didn't look up. "What makes you think I didn't?"
"A feeling. You should be stronger. I wouldn't be your match."
Lange's head dipped lower. She didn't look at Yao, instead leaning forward slightly to gently blow out the single candle on the congratulatory cake. A strand of hair slipped, tracing the elegant line of her cheek, catching the faint morning light filtering through the window. In the clear daylight, the candle's tiny, dying flame was captured in the depths of her eyes. "Feelings are meaningless," she said softly. "I have a feeling I will never raise a hand against you, Second Young Master Xie."
The old title, unused for so long, sent a peculiar jolt through Yao. Only servants in the Jingyang Xie household had used it, and even they had switched to 'Family Head' later. Here it was, uttered with a tone of mild, detached respect. As if, in Lange's eyes, she held some inherent dignity. Yao couldn't help a faint, genuine smile. "Not necessarily." She gathered her things, heading for the training room. As she passed Lange, her voice, almost a whisper, trailed behind. "Unless you woke up that morning without a sore neck."
Lange stood motionless for a long moment after the training room door sealed shut. Then, slowly, her hand rose to her neck, her expression a complex tapestry of emotions. So thatwas why it had ached. All morning, she'd been subjected to awkward teasing about the previous night's student inebriation epidemic, leaving her both embarrassed and wondering if all men were so… dramatic. Apparently not.
Inside the training chamber, Yao opened the academy's reward casket. It was a spatial-fold design, lavish and elegant. Four compartments awaited.
First Compartment: 500 S2 Crystals.
Second: A three-piece set of Orange-tier defensive gear (robe, headpiece, leggings).
Third: An Orange-tier Principle Stone ('Wind Dominator').
Fourth: A selection box for Aberrant Ocular Gene Fragments (High Orange-grade).
The first three were slightly more generous than her baseline expectations. But the fourth… this was the tiered reward for the top 20, the true differential. It gave her pause. "Aberrant Ocular Fragments." Memories of lore surfaced: Aberrants who challenged human authority, slain, their ocular gifts forcibly harvested. Perfectly extracted eyes held astronomical value, transplantable to compatible hosts. Failed extractions yielded gene fragments. Even a single fragment held a minuscule chance to stimulate compatible genes, bestowing a shade of the original ocular power. The probability was vanishingly small, a gamble on fate and compatibility. Yet, in theory, accumulating more fragments of the same type increased the odds exponentially, potentially leading to full manifestation. A chilling, coveted resource.
A cold clarity settled over Yao. As her academy career progressed, she might climb the ranks. But those above her, year after year, would be amassing these very fragments through ranking rewards. Even without a hereditary 'feast' like the Xie family's, sustained accumulation could grant them ocular abilities, potentially eroding her hard-won advantage in perception.
Her entire rise, from the moment she awakened the Insight Ocular in Oxus's body, had been built on that foundational edge. The four-academy selection? Without first locking onto Wei Mingtang and Xie Yiyuan, she'd have been at a severe disadvantage against Li Cang and Que Baimo. Now, she realized those ranked above her were likely collecting, or had already acquired, such fragments. Her advantage was evaporating. Her foundation, attributes, and level still lagged. Her plans were incomplete. To hope for another upset? Frankly, unlikely.
She couldn't stop the top twenty from gathering fragments. "Then the only path is to acquire my own, and awaken a new ocular power—or enhance my current one—faster." The problem was immediate: she had one fragment. Could she even maintain a top-20 position next assessment? It felt like aiming for a specific target with no guarantee of even hitting the board. "Awakening from a single fragment? That's the stuff of cheat-code protagonists like Qin Minfeng. I might be tangled in his karma, but I dare not assume his plot armor…"
Her self-mocking soliloquy halted mid-thought. A spark, a resource-hunter's intuition, flickered. She fell silent, stroking her chin in contemplation before decisively opening the selection box.
Click.The interface connected to the academy's vast repository. A panel displayed her options. A staggering 36 types of ocular fragments, from various Aberrant races, with different powers and rarities. An Orange-Blood scion would be dizzy with choice. Thankfully, Yao possessed a player's meta-perspective. She began cross-referencing: identifying desirable traits, then digging into the academy's archives to trace each fragment's origin—the Aberrant's species, level, circumstances of death.
"Frostsnow Tiger's Dread Gaze… owner Level 80, slain at the Molten Pool of Spine-Severing Peak. No good. Frostsnow Tigers are water-aligned. The Dread Gaze would be damaged by the fiery environment. Pass. Pity, its power is notable."
"Tri-Escape Shadow-Seeker clan. Insight specialists, innate ocular gifts. Merging with my Spirit Orchid Eye could yield fascinating evolution… but the clan carries a curse talent. High risk of a death-curse on extraction. Too risky."
One by one, she eliminated candidates, narrowing it down to three ideal, low-risk options with useful powers. She was poised to choose when her eyes caught an entry at the very bottom of the list. Its description was sparse, almost barren.
Aberrant Ocular Fragment: Unknown Origin. Verified complete eye possessed ability to perceive spiritual energy in four-dimensional space. Class: Psychic Ocular.
Psychic Ocular. Most ocular powers fell into three categories: Insight, Assault, and Support (illusion, hypnosis). Psychic variants were Insight derivatives, but with a crucial twist: beyond basic perception, they could seespiritual energy—the very fabric of mental power and ambient meditation energy. For cultivation, this was monumental. It meant targeted, hyper-efficient absorption. Those born with such eyes were either natural psychic monsters or became them. A fragment this valuable should have been snatched instantly. Why was it still here?
Her finger hovered. The scarcity of information was a red flag. Only an入库 date was listed. Cross-referencing that date with large-scale provincial conflicts from that period, she found a match. "The Steel Forest Battle at the Confluence River ten years ago… a massive conflict that razed the entire forest, drawing in experts from across the province. Later revealed as an attack by Heretics aiming to seize power in Beluke City, eventually crushed by the military…" The ocular fragments in this batch likely came from the fallen Heretics—a mix of invading Aberrants and human traitors. Yao attempted to pull records on these specific Heretics. Access Denied. Classified. A high-level information lock.
"Strange. Exposing such groups usually serves as a public deterrent. Keeping it sealed suggests one of two things: either the group's composition is sensitive—perhaps its leaders were high-ranking defectors, a shame to the Empire—or the organization isn't fully dismantled, and investigations are ongoing." Her gut suggested a mix of both. "If I can find this, others can too. All fragments from that battle have obscured origins. But this one's description is uniquely scant. It wasn't harvested; it was likely blasted apart in combat, a unique remnant. Probably no other fragments like it exist." Meaning, no matter its potential, with just one fragment, awakening was nearly impossible. A textbook white elephant. No one chose it.
Yao chose it. Her logic was brutal. She lacked the time to accumulate multiple fragments of any type. One fragment was a gamble regardless. This one, if she beat the astronomical odds, offered the highest reward. A Psychic Ocular. The allure was irresistible. She confirmed her selection. The gamble was placed.
Her plan solidified around this wild card. The next three-month cycle: Oxus's body would focus on the Psychic Fragment, leveraging all resources to 'roll the dice' on fortune. Her 500,000+ points would fuel this. The Minor Celestial Script operation continued, generating wealth to be funneled back into more scripts. Yao's original body faced a longer road; three months was insufficient to bridge the vast gap in Principle comprehension, let alone touch the threshold of a Taboo Master. Some distances could only be closed by time itself. And then there was the Economic Division's business…
Two months later, Yao knocked on Lange's door. "I'll be away. Contact me if needed."
"I'll be sequestered here. Unlikely to encounter trouble." Lange never pried. Since the mall incident, she'd maintained a careful distance. Yao noticed, attributing it to lingering discomfort over Li Wukun. Understandable. Women could be sensitive in such matters. Yao knew her own truth, but Lange did not. "Potions are on the table. Improved formula. Don't forget them."
After Yao left, Lange stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the empty corridor. After a long moment, she walked to the table and picked up a vial. She was acutely aware of Yao's escalating alchemical prowess. These potions surpassed what her family's employed Intermediate Alchemists could produce. As some elders had begrudgingly admitted, "Apart from his reputation, there's little to fault in Oxus."
Unbeknownst to Yao, the moment she departed, a figure in the opposite dormitory sent a message. Elemental fluctuations detected beneath Oxus's residence. Subject may have departed. Scout the academy perimeter.
Confirmed.
A sentinel had been planted.
Yao's destination, reached via a circuitous route and a borrowed face, was the Arcane Palace. It stood in the bustling central plaza shared by the four academies, a zone of vibrant commerce and enforced, absolute peace. No one dared cause trouble under the cold gaze of the Temple Guards.
Descending from a public sky-bus, Yao (in disguise) shoved her hands into her pockets, melting into the human river flowing towards the majestic structure. The plaza was immense, the crowd dense. Flight was restricted overhead. The sheer scale meant walking. A faint, persistent prickle crawled up her spine—the sensation of being watched. She was no novice. Casually, she shifted towards denser crowds, muscles coiling to sprint the final distance.
Suddenly, a voice insinuated itself into her mind. Come… Come here…
It was hypnotic, seductive. Her pupils dilated. A terrifying, will-sapping fog of illusion threatened to swamp her consciousness. She shook her head, a feeble resistance, and tried to cry out—but her throat felt packed with stone. Silenced!A long-range silencing spell. Damnation! A soul or illusion specialist. High-level. Mental resistance was her weak point.
The compulsion was too strong. Fighting it openly here was impossible. The controller clearly didn't want a public death; they wanted her compliant. Come…Like a sleepwalker, Yao turned from the throng, walking towards a half-renovated commercial building. Stores were vacated, silence reigned within, a stark contrast to the din outside. A chill, musty air greeted her, unnoticed by her entranced senses. Deeper she went, into a shadowy corridor. On the floor ahead, a complex magic circle glowed with a sickly purple light—a Soul-Dissolution Array. Step inside, and all elemental and soul signatures would be consumed. A perfect, untraceable murder box.
From the shadows, a cloaked figure watched, a predator observing its mesmerized prey draw nearer. Ten steps. Nine… Five…
On the fifth step, a small doll shot from within Yao's robes. It combusted in a flash of silver fire, emitting a piercing psychic shriek. "Master, AWAKEN!"
A Mental-Fortitude Guardian Doll! A niche alchemical project Yao had obsessively crafted after the TK threat emerged, fearing precisely this kind of ambush. Soul attacks were her bane. While most attempts failed, she'd succeeded twice. The dolls were imperfect, reactive, not proactive. Against a master of this caliber, it had only triggered at the brink.
But it was enough. Yao jerked awake, adrenaline scorching through the mental haze. Her first instinct was to create a disturbance, alert the Palace Guards. But the shadowy figure, seeing its control slip, acted. A slender wand flicked. A streak of crimson, liquid malice lanced out, vaporizing the doll. Simultaneously, her other hand twisted in the air like a serpent. The Soul-Dissolution Array on the floor writhed, expanding and flowing like molten tar to engulf Yao's feet.
A variant, mobile array! And the caster—a Level 55 Illusionary Array Controller. Not overwhelmingly powerful in raw force, but devastating in technique, like Wei Mingtang.
Yao tried to summon her wings, but her legs were already sinking into the corrosive purple energy. A numbing paralysis spread, severing her connection to spiritual energy and the elements. Trapped. The controller, maintaining distance to strengthen the spell, watched with cold efficiency.
Yet, as the caster focused on sustaining the array, Yao mustered every shred of her remaining will and locked onto her. Arcane Lock!
A ripple of nullification. For a split second, the array stuttered. The controller gasped, her elemental control severed. The tables had turned, if briefly. Yao exploded from the slowing mire, a blur of motion. She lunged, intent on closing the distance for a decisive strike.
Sensing the threat, the controller didn't hesitate. Her cloak billowed, and her form dissolved into a plume of inky smoke, shooting down a stairwell. Yao gave chase, wings flaring, a streak of light pursuing shadow. The smoke rounded a corner. Just beyond the wall was the bustling plaza. The cloak dissipated, and within it, a woman shed all traces of aberrant energy, seamlessly blending into the crowd.
A collective gasp rose. People pointed upwards. Yao stood atop a balcony railing several stories high, glorious wings unfurled, her gaze sweeping the sea of faces below. Her ocular power activated, scanning, searching. The woman below, now just another pedestrian, felt a surge of contempt. See me if you can.
She reached for her communicator to report the target's possession of Arcane Lock—
A searing, undeniable sense of being targetedpierced her confidence. What?!She whirled. The ground at her feet erupted in a net of constricting light strands. And before she could even form a thought, a bullet of pure, condensed Principle energy, silent and deadly, punched through her forehead.
A beautiful, ordinary-looking woman crumpled to the ground. Screams erupted. Chaos. "HALT!" A Temple Guard descended from the sky, his aura oppressive, pinning Yao in place. She immediately produced her academy insignia. "She tried to assassinate me."
"Evidence."
"In that building—the array—"
The guard's expression turned grave. He scooped up the body with a wave of energy and grabbed Yao, flying them back into the derelict building. As they landed in the gloomy corridor, a cold dread, sharper than any blade, sliced down Yao's spine. The guard's face… warped, shifting into a vicious, cunning feminine visage.
"I believe," the imposter said, voice now a sibilant whisper, "the array is here. Because Iam here." Thiswas the true master. The one she'd killed was likely a puppet. A trap within a trap! The hand on her shoulder clamped like a vise, dragging her towards the now-active array at their feet.
A beam of pure, annihilating light tore through the air, evaporating the imposter guard's torso before she could complete the motion. Yao spun. On the balcony stood Zhou Linlang, her face pale with urgency and alarm. "Oxus! Do you have any idea how reckless that was? Following a fake guard in here?!"
Yao looked at her, and a slow smile touched her lips. "I assumed the Economic Division had people nearby for my protection. I didn't expect the Director herself."
Zhou Linlang's eyebrow arched. A white-cloaked agent shimmered into view on the balcony, looking profoundly awkward. "Director Zhou. My partner and I were assigned to shadow the young master, to lure out TK. We… didn't expect you."
"So, I'm TK, then?"
"No! You… you came to the rescue."
The agent, flustered, vanished back into stealth. Yao spoke calmly, "If you were TK, you wouldn't have revealed yourself. You'd watch from the shadows. If I had no protection, I'd be dead. If I did, you'd stay hidden. Ergo, you're the Zhou Linlang I know." Her smile faded. "So, Director Zhou. Tell me. How didyou survive?"
This entire setup had been for this moment, for Zhou Linlang. The assassin was almost incidental.
Zhou Linlang showed no pleasure at having 'passed the test.' Only concern. "You just exposed your Arcane Lock. You've tied yourself to the Qin Minfeng incident. Aren't you afraid of drawing fire?"
Yao's gaze lowered. A bitter laugh escaped her. "Do you think I was ever truly hidden? Your superior likely suspected, but lacked proof. TK doesn't need proof. They know about Qin Minfeng and the Spine Wolves. They came for 'Yao' that night, failed, and died. They suspect 'Yao' and me. 'Yao' has an alibi. That leaves me. They suspect I possess Qin Minfeng's secrets. If they keep sending stronger agents, I'd have to use Arcane Lock to survive anyway. Like today—I almost didn't. The only choice was to preempt it, to bring the Economic Division in. I've already informed the Minister."
"By exposing yourself, you've made yourself a more interesting target for TK."
Zhou Linlang's lips thinned. "So you've decided to be the Minister's bait? To draw TK out? It wasn't necessary. I'd already infiltrated them. I didn't want you involved. My earlier contact, leaving that 'flaw'… it was a signal. For you. Only you would notice the contradiction."
"I considered the possibility you weren't Zhou Linlang. Then I considered another: Zhou Linlang had replaced a TK infiltrator who was pretendingto be Zhou Linlang. You took his place, continuing his mission. You need to convince TK you're their mole, and convince the Economic Division you're still you, while leaving just enough of a 'flaw' for the TK mole withinthe Economic Division to confirm your identity. Because there is a high-level mole, isn't there? You're using me to sell your cover to that mole."
Zhou Linlang looked momentarily pained, then chuckled dryly. "Must you phrase it as 'black-eat-black'?"
"But my guess is essentially correct. Saves you the explanation. From the moment you took the TK lead capture mission, to your 'death,' to being 'consumed' and impersonated by TK's leader using his genetic mimicry talent… it was all part of the plan. To become him, find the mole. The larger objective… I shouldn't know. I'm in the game now. I agreed to the Minister's terms. He doesn't tolerate quitters."
Zhou Linlang nodded, her expression turning solemn. The Economic Division's game had begun long ago. Their ambitions undoubtedly stretched beyond a single mole. Yao wasn't part of that deep apparatus. She was an external contractor, here to do a job, get paid, and leave—though a growing suspicion whispered the payment might cost more than she'd bargained for.
"Your role is far more dangerous. This is top secret. Only you and the Minister know the full truth. Telling me… won't he reprimand you?"
A strange, almost impish look crossed Zhou Linlang's face. "You figured it out yourself. And you told me about your deal with him."
"You deduced that," Yao stated with faux innocence.
They looked at each other and shared a genuine, weary smile. Zhou Linlang sighed. "Besides, he already has your Arcane Lock secret. He could use the Qin Minfeng affair to pressure you anytime. Not that it matters—Qin Minfeng was a proven traitor. Killing him carries no penalty. The secret is just a card you've lost."
"True. To a man like Minister Xiao, is it even a valuable card? If he wanted to move against me, would he need such leverage?" This pragmatism had driven her disclosure. At their level, as with Liu Wushi, a short-duration, conditional ability like Arcane Lock was notable, not game-breaking. It was, in a way, choosing a side. Offering a token of trust to the powerhouse she'd chosen to stand behind.
"The agent who was 'protecting' you—we'll say he saved you. I can't be involved. It wouldn't make sense to TK." From TK's perspective, that agent was their leader, 'TK.' Why would he save a target his subordinate was about to capture? Even as a trust-building exercise, it was flimsy.
"Agreed. The Minister will likely decide the same." As Zhou Linlang turned to leave, she hesitated. "He can't protect you every time. As bait, your most useful moment is the final trap. You can't be attacked and rescued repeatedly without raising suspicion. So, what's your plan? Holing up in the academy?"
"The academy likely has their eyes too. Not entirely safe. Besides," Yao said, pointing towards a specific, towering structure visible through the broken window, "I already have a destination in mind."
Zhou Linlang followed her gaze. A slow, understanding smile spread across her face.
The Arcane Palace.