“I can’t believe it came to this…”

In the room, Silver Luan returned from cultivation, face dark as stormclouds as he stared at Cerqin.

“Why’re you glaring at me like knives…”

“So, the thing that should be yours is on Qianli. And the one on you belongs to Qianli…”

“Yeah…”

Silver Luan let out a breath like steam. His expression flickered, then settled into regret. He tilted his head toward Spring Tide.

“Tomorrow’s move is on you. If I’d prepped earlier, I might’ve broken through to Seventh Rank to help…”

“Don’t worry,” Spring Tide answered, face cold as frost.

Cerqin watched killing intent rise like heat haze from the three, and she shrank her neck like a turtle.

“So what about tonight? I saved time to come back…”

“Mm… no way. We can’t fool around today.”

“I’m heading to the lab later. Got some bright ideas, want to test them on your senior sister, Spring Tide.”

“Eh?”

Cerqin watched them talk over her, then perched on the bed like a bird on a rail, at a loss.

The desire they’d stirred earlier still glowed like embers. Seeing them unmoved, ready to go their ways, she grew anxious.

“What’re you ‘eh’-ing for?”

“Heh-heh…”

Spring Tide pinched the grinning Cerqin and snapped, breath like cold wind.

“Have I scolded you too much? What are you giggling at.”

“Isn’t it ’cause every time you chew her out, it’s at very special moments…”

Silver Luan curled his lip and griped, like a cat flicking its tail.

“Forget it. I’ll go cultivate, try to hit Seventh Rank sooner. Aileaf, how’s your side?”

“Might beat you to it.”

“Huh?”

“Fifth to Sixth isn’t like Sixth to Seventh. Way simpler, like a hill versus a peak.”

“I don’t see you cultivating. Aren’t you always soaking in the lab doing research…”

“I’ve been at Fifth Rank for quite a while…”

Silver Luan and Aileaf chatted as they pushed the door open and left. The door sighed, and Spring Tide and Cerqin were left staring, eyes like locked blades.

Rubbing her barely sore cheek, Cerqin poked the tiger again.

“Really no… we could just not use that, couldn’t we?”

Spring Tide shot her a glare sharp as a drawn knife.

“All you think about is playing. I’m going to consult my martial uncle. You sleep alone. And don’t mess with that on your own, or else… you know.”

“…”

Cerqin wanted to say, I don’t. But she knew the price would be heavy, like a trap closing. This wasn’t like the days they could fool around.

After Spring Tide left, Cerqin lay on the bed, at loose ends. She couldn’t do what she liked, and the lab held no charm, like a lamp gone dim.

Helpless, she shut her eyes and, for once, started cultivating on her own, calm as a lake at dusk.

Cultivation is simple. Sense mana. Draw nature’s mana in and let it wash the body like a river.

It hardens the flesh and widens the vessel that holds mana, like firing clay into a broader jar.

Add in inscribing spell sigils and comprehending powers—together, that’s all of it, like brush and ink making a scroll.

Cerqin had inscribed about as many spells as a Fifth Rank could. Insight came after Sixth, like dawn after night.

So basic absorption was all she could do now, breath steady as a metronome.

The night slid by, calm as still water.

At dawn, the Sanctuary’s guard campaign quietly kicked off, like mist lifting without a sound.

In the core conference room, Ninexiao opened his eyes; the gaze cut the dim like a blade. Soul marks had locked onto all detected individuals identified as Ming Duo.

Besides Spring Tide and Ninexiao, several Seventh Rank Divine Officers gathered. The plan was simple, clean as a drawn line.

Hit all marked targets at once. Split into teams and capture. Eighth Rank Ninexiao would join, hence the Sanctuary’s grand array humming like a net.

With an Eighth Rank here and the marks laid, the net was already cast. If the Divine Officers and Spring Tide pinned the marked bodies—

Ninexiao could break them one by one, fast as thunderheads rolling. Even if every body was Ming Duo, it wouldn’t matter now.

“Then… move out.”

…

In White Thought and White Feather’s room, Cerqin grinned at them, smile bright as a lantern.

Both jolted on the bed. Scarred White Feather’s eye twitched like a tugged thread.

“How did you get in…”

“I pushed the door and walked in, of course.”

“I remember locking it.”

“Heh-heh…”

Picking standard magic locks was one of Cerqin’s first life-spells. She’d honed it to a fine flame.

She used it less now than her Hand of Space, but it still flowed like second nature, smooth as water.

Cerqin’s bright smile made White Thought, held in an embrace, shrink a little and speak, half tearful, like rain threatening to fall.

“So… Miss Cerqin, why are you here? If you want the two of us to attend you, can I refuse…”

“What are you thinking… Spring Tide and the others would kill me.”

She knew it was a joke, but she still grumbled, voice dry as dust.

“I want you to do a future reading…”

“…Miss Spring Tide said using White Steed’s power to predict the future needs her consent. She told me not to help you…”

“…Tch.”

Cerqin rubbed her nose. She glanced at White Thought’s bare shoulder, pale as moonlight, then at White Feather holding her tight.

“Really can’t?”

“Really can’t. Did something happen?”

They knew nothing about the Ming Duo hunt. For two days, they’d bought supplies for Cerqin and holed up here like nesting birds.

“Mm… it’s nothing. If Spring Tide warned you, forget it. You two keep sleeping. I’m off. Come help with experiments later.”

“How can we sleep now, hey…”

Cerqin slipped out the door. White Feather’s curses drifted after her, faint as wind through reeds.

She’d come at first light because the operation gnawed at her like a mouse in the walls.

The lineup was extravagant for a mere Seventh Rank Ming Duo, a sledgehammer for a walnut.

An Eighth Rank and several Seventh Ranks surrounding one Seventh Rank—the net shouldn’t tear.

But she was once the strongest Holy Maiden candidate…

By now, they’d likely left the Sanctuary and begun. Cerqin still felt a pebble of unease in her chest.

At the labs, she didn’t open her own door. She went to Aileaf’s across the hall, hesitated, then pushed it and peered in like a cautious cat.

On tiptoe past the storage racks, Cerqin found Qianli there too, small as a shadow.

“Huh, Qianli, why are you here too?”

Qianli still looked wilted. Yesterday had hit hard—humiliation, and sensations she hadn’t wanted, like thorns under skin.

Qianli glanced at Cerqin and pouted, lips pressed like a line.

“Miss Aileaf told me to come?”

“Mm…”

Cerqin eyed Aileaf busy at the bench, tools chiming like tiny bells. She scratched her head and asked on.

“Where’s Baili? Uh…”

At Baili’s name, Qianli’s eyes welled again, grievance pooling like rain in a cup.

“On assignment…”

“Uh…”

Awkward silence pooled between them like stagnant water.

Meanwhile, by a sparse riverbank beyond the capital’s outer city, a black-clad, short-haired girl watched wind paint ripples on the water, face blank as carved wood.

She stood like a puppet for a beat. With a slicing whoosh, she vanished and reappeared a short distance away.

Where she’d stood, a cage of wind sprang from nothing, bars humming like reeds.

The girl raised her head and looked ahead, eyes cool as water.

A Divine Officer looked grave as stone. After a missed strike, he fell into stance at once.

She tilted her head. Her tone was flat, yet held a trace of regret, like a faded stain.

“Looks like my luck’s a little bad…”