"What do you need help with."

Though Yejia Yin’s voice remained icy, her gaze finally shifted to me. At least this negotiation wasn’t dead on arrival.

“A friend of mine was poisoned,” I began. I’d originally planned to just ask for medicine—but with no idea what kind of poison or dosage was needed, I had no choice but to be honest. “She needs a legendary-grade cure.”

In negotiations, revealing your weakness instantly puts you at a disadvantage. But if I’d only asked for medicine, and Qingli died due to wrong dosage or some technicality… that’d be worse. This woman might twist my words.

Besides, what even *was* a “legendary-grade elixir”? I hadn’t the faintest clue.

“What can you offer in return?”

Yejia Yin tossed out the question lightly, her expression utterly blank—no, she had no expression at all.

If the Yejia Yin at our school had seemed like a girl next door, this version was an uncannily lifelike doll.

No human reactions. Just chilling indifference.

My stomach sank. To pledge allegiance, I’d only have myself and the Yao Race under my command. But here’s the problem: one, I was a female fox. Two, *she* was female too. And three… I didn’t actually command anyone. At all.

She’d once hinted she liked girls—maybe even me—but now I wondered: if her whole persona back then was fake, could any of her words be trusted?

No matter. I’d come for this. I gritted my back teeth, face slightly flushed, and met her eyes.

“Myself… and any Yao willing to pledge loyalty.”

I’d said the first part firmly. The second? Barely a whisper. Even Elder Mink’s “royalist” faction seemed half-hearted. And Qingli—the only one truly loyal—lay dying in a hospital bed.

So I was just a one-woman army. They say the barefoot aren’t afraid of those in shoes… but I stole a glance at Yejia Yin’s polished little black heels. Yeah. I was still scared.

“Hmm.” She crossed her right leg over her left, shifted in the sofa, and let out a tiny yawn. Her voice dripped with boredom. “No Yao would pledge to you now. The Nine Tails’ influence has faded.”

I felt my whole body go limp. Of course—a major power like hers would have intelligence networks. She probably knew my exact situation before I even stepped through the door.

Judging by her outfit, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d known I was coming the moment I left home.

And she hadn’t reacted *at all* to my first offer… I’d swallowed my pride to say it aloud. How cruel.

What now? I’d charged here determined to give everything to save Qingli. But standing before her, I realized the “everything” I’d steeled myself to sacrifice felt like a huge loss to me… yet meant nothing to her.

The negotiation wasn’t over—she hadn’t thrown me out—but hope had bled away. A crushing sadness rose in my throat, thick and hot.

In the end, I still couldn’t save her. Couldn’t save *him*, the one I’d gotten killed. Even offering my whole self couldn’t undo that.

My knees wobbled. Qingli had said Yejia Yin ruled this city’s hidden world—no one here had better resources. Other cities? No time. And I knew no one else.

Just as I fought back tears to take my leave, the girl on the sofa suddenly changed tone. “Actually… it’s fine. Having the Nine Tailed Fox here gives me legitimate grounds to subdue rebellious Yao by force. Other clans couldn’t interfere.”

Huh?

It took me three seconds to process: *This wasn’t over?*

“I have the cure…” She stood, left foot touching the floor first as she rose smoothly. Her silky black mini-skirt settled without a wrinkle. Elegant? No—more like… cool.

*Damn, she’s cool.*

Relief flooded me. What a rollercoaster. I hastily wiped the moisture from my eyes and scrambled to her side. “I’ll lead the way! Should we take a car? Or… the bus?”

Later, I’d want to bury my face in the floor for asking that.