“The weather’s nice.” Yiyi watched the sun gleam like a pale coin, bright without warmth, and sighed like a cold wind through reeds. “Spring’s almost here. Well… even spring here bites like ice.”

She felt a soft ache rise first, then slumped in the chair like a lazy cat in winter light. “I wonder how the original’s doing.”

Liqianyu rolled over like a wave and sat beside her, hands cradling Yiyi’s head like a bowl. “Yiyi, what’re you up to?”

Yiyi’s brow lifted like a drawn bow, her gaze sharp as frost. “Don’t call me that cutesy thing. You’re as annoying as the original.”

Embarrassment pricked Liqianyu like thorns; she couldn’t admit Eli had out-argued her, so she hunted for pride like a stray coin on this cuter, weaker clone.

“It’s been three days since the talk. Why’s Xili doing nothing?” Liqianyu tossed the topic like a stone skipping water.

Yiyi didn’t notice the dodge. She snorted like a small spark. “Of course. That book’s methods are near-suicide, a gun to your own head. If Xili isn’t an idiot, nothing happens.”

“Uh…” Liqianyu blinked like a startled deer.

Yiyi shot her a look flat as slate. “Right. Don’t be as dumb as you.”

Anger flared in Liqianyu like a struck match; she grabbed Yiyi’s head and rubbed it hard, hands like grinding millstones.

Not far away, a black-robed figure hefted three batons like thunder clubs and stared at the Ninth Prince’s manor—its ruins like broken bones. She inhaled deep like a swell before a storm, then shouted with blissful madness, “Art is Patrick Star!”

Three magic arrays floated like glowing kites, and crystals on the staff bled a destructive aura like acid rain.

The robed figure poured mana in, veins of light branching above her like tangled vines.

When the energy crested like a tidal wave, she flung her hands to the sky like a priest at dawn. “Come! Elemental Blast! (Secret Art)”

At the peak, the array pillar’s tip began to radiate like a volcano mouth. Then a scabbard speared through every array from crown to root like a lightning bolt through paper.

Following the shatter, the scabbard dropped and slammed into her face with a heavy thud, like a hammer on an anvil.

“Ow…” The robed figure clutched her forehead, kneeling like a wounded swan, a groan rolling out like warm wine.

Li Gongxuan drifted down calm as falling ash and sat on her back like a mountain on a field. “Well, I don’t know what nonsense you’re yelling, but letting you fire that seems bad.”

He shrugged, casual as a breeze. “Your skull’s pretty hard. From that height… yeah, even a rock could kill someone, scabbard or no.”

“Ugh… it hurts.” She held her head like a cracked jar, words squeezed out like paste.

Li Gongxuan raised a brow like a lifted blade. “Oh? You’re a girl.”

He didn’t stand; he settled heavier like a stone seat. The robed girl gritted her teeth like a locked gate. “What are you doing? Get off! Huh? Are you the Ninth Prince’s hidden ace?”

Li Gongxuan blinked slow as a dusk lantern. “Ninth Prince? What’s that.”

“If you’re not, get off! Let me finish my task!” She flared, tossing back her hood; purple eyes and long violet hair flashed like night flowers, and her perfect face held him like a moon holds a tide.

She paused, then smirked sly as a fox. “Oh my, spring fever already? You look decent. Want me to—”

Li Gongxuan cut her words with motion like a clean slice. He hugged the scabbard, rose like a spring, hoisted her up, and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of silk. “Those workers toiled all day like ants raising a hill. You smashed their bit of wall. If their boss blames them, that’s rotten.”

The purple-haired girl rolled her eyes like marbles. “What’s that to you? Did it dock your pay?”

Two runes slapped onto her like paper wings; she tensed to fly and leave him like smoke.

Li Gongxuan’s hand flicked; the long sword leapt by itself like a hawk and kissed her neck with cold steel. He spoke cool as shade. “Those workers are pitiful. I’m a super-handsome great do-gooder; I won’t let you hurt people.”

“…” The girl’s mood curdled like sour milk. Was he insane?

Li Gongxuan patted his shoulder twice like calling a sparrow, meaning: lie back down.

She bit hard like a trapped wolf and tried to bolt. Another sword budded like a twin, its tip hovering before her face like a star.

“Uh-huh, one question. Are you moved?” Li Gongxuan smiled like a sunny knife.

“…I don’t dare move.”

“Good.” Another sword slid from the scabbard like a fish from water. She eyed the ring of blades like iron petals and frowned. “What are you—”

“Oh-ho, you don’t get ‘see injustice, draw your blade’? Fine.” He shrugged like a loose cloak, nudging her back onto his shoulder with the sword like a shepherd’s crook. “You’re coming with me.”

“But… but I have a task!” Panic fluttered in her chest like a trapped bird.

“Oh? What happens if you fail?”

“I… I die!”

“Hm?” Li Gongxuan’s gaze swept her like a cold river over stone.

“What are you trying to do?” Her stare sharpened like a knife.

He arched a brow like a crescent. “A magical strangulation curse?”

She nodded, small as mist. “Yeah…”

“Then relax. Stay by me, and you’ll be fine.” He shrugged like a man tossing a pebble.

“Like hell I’d trust you.” She rolled her eyes like storm clouds.

Which asylum lost their patient? And this would ruin her once-in-a-lifetime nuclear-scale test, a sun she wanted to birth.

“You’ll see soon.” He patted his shoulder again, impatient as a drumming rain.

She pretended not to see, turning away like a cat ignoring soup.

Li Gongxuan sighed like a tired wind, tossed the scabbard again, and it spun like a wheel, bonking her into darkness.

With the mana gone, the runes winked out like fireflies, and she fell like a cut kite.

Li Gongxuan flashed up like dawn, caught her, and carried her princess-style like a knight with a sleeping rose.

After two steps, doubt pricked him like a nettle. “Huh? Where’s my scabbard?”

He slung her over his shoulder again like cargo and sprinted back, feet drumming like hooves, to fetch the scabbard.

…

“I’ve waited so long. Why’s no one coming to wreck the Ninth Prince’s manor?” Yiyi bit her thumb like a fox gnawing a thought.

“Maybe you guessed wrong.” Liqianyu waved a chicken drumstick like a baton at her.

“Tch… nonsense. When have I ever messed up?” Yiyi’s voice snapped like dry twig.

“That’s the original, not you.” Liqianyu’s tone fell flat as a slate.

“You!”

“Mr. Eli!” Xili strode in like a gust and cut their quarrel like a knife.

He peeked inside like a cautious mouse. “Mr. Eli?”

Yiyi lifted her hand like a willow frond. “What is it?”

“Mr. Eli, my second brother wants us to visit the Mage Tower with him.”

Yiyi blinked like a pond. “Your second brother?”

“Yeah…”

“Only invited you?”

“Yes.”

“Welp. You’re doomed.” Her words dropped like a cold stone.

“Eh? That serious?” Xili’s eyes flickered like candlelight.

“Mm.” Yiyi sighed, counting his seconds like beads on a rosary.

“How could that be?” Xili frowned like a gathering cloud.

“Can’t you refuse?” Yiyi’s voice brushed like a feather.

“No. He says he’ll help me, wounded outside, heal body and mind.” Xili exhaled like steam.

“Why so gloomy?”

“You said it yourself. The Mage Tower’s under the Second Prince, top to root.” His tone fell like night.

“Right.” Yiyi shrugged like a reed. “Welp, you probably don’t know. Inside the Mage Tower, they can kill you a thousand times, easily, by any path.”

“They… probably won’t attack me outright.” Xili’s hope was thin as paper.

“I don’t even know what to say.” Yiyi’s sigh spread like fog. “You’ve never gone in. If you do, you won’t even know how you died.”

She pointed at the glutton girl like a judge’s finger. “Look at that big-chested, small-brained idiot. No matter how strong her muscles are, if she enters and stirs trouble, she’ll die miserably.”

Liqianyu froze mid-bite like a statue, raised a brow like a hooked wing, then rushed over with greasy hands to pinch Yiyi’s cheeks like dough. “Jerk!”

Yiyi glared like a stormfront; she was the original’s stand-in now and couldn’t slip a seam.

Liqianyu glared back like flint. Anyone who inherited Eli’s temper turned into an annoying pest like a buzzing fly.

Yiyi wiped with paper like a quiet rain, cast a cleaning spell that shimmered like soap bubbles, then told the awkward Xili, “Sigh. Live or die, it’s hard to say.”

She knew she was weaker than the original like a shadow to its lantern. Even Eli couldn’t force his way out of the Mage Tower; she wouldn’t, either.

One day later, at the Mage Tower gate, Andra smiled like a polished blade, stepped up, and hugged Xili lightly like silk. “Brother, I’ve been swamped. I didn’t find time to visit you after you returned injured. I’m truly sorry.”

Xili smiled like a small sun. “It’s fine, brother. I get it. The other brothers are far from the palace. I understand.”

“Good. Come with me. I’ll show you the Mage Tower.” Andra tugged Xili inward like a river pulls a leaf.

Yiyi, Liqianyu, and three nameless knights followed like shadows, but the old mage beside Andra lifted a hand like a wall to stop them. He smiled like a creased parchment. “As servants, don’t be rash. Stay here.”

Liqianyu’s brow leapt like a spark. Damn, he wanted trouble, like tinder wanting flame.

She almost rushed in to pound the geezer like a drum, fists itching like wasps.

Yiyi grabbed her quickly like a hook and smiled at the elder like a painted fan. “Alright.”

She drew Liqianyu back like a tide. Seeing the old mage’s eyes weigh them like scales, she flashed Liqianyu a silent sign like a flicker.

“Sacred Rank. Legendary mage.”