Gods above, thanks to my constant prayers, everything went smoothly afterward.

I don’t know what Yejia Yin gave Qingli, but Qingli woke up. The moment her eyes fluttered open, I lunged forward, hugging her chest and sobbing uncontrollably for a long while.

Let me stress this again: I’m not a crybaby. It’s just that life’s dramatic ups and downs were too intense. I had to release all the pent-up emotions I’d held back.

Yejia Yin stayed expressionless the whole time. She watched silently as Qingli and I poured out our hearts. Then, with a detached politeness, she asked:

“Anything else I can help with?”

Though her face didn’t quite match the words.

I hesitated. Remembering how fortune favors the bold, I gritted my teeth and said: “I want to keep this hidden from my family… and transfer schools. Lanying High, if possible.”

Soon after, a stern-looking middle-aged man—Vice Principal Ye from Lanying—accompanied me home. He handled my transfer request. First, he showed his ID. Then he praised my academic potential, explaining why he’d sought me out personally. To my mom, he painted grand promises: no transfer fees, generous scholarships every semester, and he even pulled out Lanying’s stellar enrollment stats. He reasoned with her so convincingly, I almost believed him myself.

“But isn’t Lanying High an all-girls school?” Mom finally found a weak spot in his pitch, her voice doubtful.

“That’s just a misunderstanding,” he replied smoothly. “Our school is fully militarized and closed off. We rarely share details externally, so rumors spread.”

“I see,” Mom said, pulling my hand. Her worry returned. “But militarized management… won’t it be too strict? Can you handle it, Xiao Yao?”

Easy. I patted my chest confidently. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m sixteen—legally an adult. Besides, Dad would’ve wanted this discipline for me.”

After asking the vice principal to wait, Mom pulled me into a side room. Her eyes narrowed. “Is this real, Xiao Yao? What if it’s a scam?”

“No way. He already took me on a school tour this afternoon. I skipped class to try a few lessons at Lanying. It’s really good.”

The excuse felt flimsy, but I’d rehearsed every reply on the way home.

Still, Mom wasn’t convinced. “But with such great terms… why pick you?”

“Simple,” I forced a grin. “I’m top fifty in my grade. The students above me are the school’s prized assets—they’d never let them go. So they chose me.”

Besides, it was too late. Earlier, Vice Principal Ye had already taken me to my current school. He’d handled my withdrawal paperwork directly with the principal, who treated him with nervous respect. I’d watched in awe.

The unspoken message: if Mom refused Lanying, I’d have no school left.

Mom fell silent for a long moment. Then she sighed softly. “But this means you’ll rarely come home, Xiao Yao… Mr. Ye mentioned militarized management means staying on campus all semester.”

Hearing that, my body trembled slightly. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to leave home either—but I had my reasons. Without them, I wouldn’t have begged for this transfer.

“Ah, forget it,” Mom sighed again, her tone softening. She stroked my hair. “You’re grown now. It’s good to explore the world. Just remember: if anything happens, come home to me. I’ll always be waiting.”

“Mm, I will.”

I said it with mixed feelings. Truthfully, it was impossible. Any trouble would be from the inner world—I couldn’t drag my family into that.

Back in the living room, after Mom grilled the vice principal with more questions, she reluctantly signed the transfer papers. Watching us stand to leave, she made one last plea:

“Must you enroll tonight… can’t it wait until morning?”

I kept my head down, heart aching. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Vice Principal Ye stayed professional. “Ma’am, Lanying is far. Staying out tonight would disrupt tomorrow’s classes. Plus, dorm records are already logged. Missing curfew leaves a mark.” He glanced at the window. “And it’s late. Dorm gates close soon.”

“Alright… go quickly then. Xiao Yao, call home every week.”

Phones weren’t allowed—part of the “militarized management.” But he’d mentioned free public phones on campus.

“Got it.”

After that final goodbye, I walked out the door. At the building’s base, I turned back. Sure enough, her figure still stood at the window.

Sorry, Mom. If I ever get the chance, I’ll explain everything.

……………………

Vice Principal Ye didn’t take me to Lanying. Instead, he led me to a pretty two-story villa beside the school—similar to Lanying’s student council office, but larger. Inside, I realized this was Yejia Yin’s home.

“Master, the person has arrived,” the vice principal announced respectfully to the girl descending the stairs. Their titles gave off a real wuxia saga vibe.

“You may rest now,” Yejia Yin dismissed him.

Once he left, the house fell silent. Only Yejia Yin and I remained. My throat tightened as I swallowed hard, gathering courage to speak. But she spoke first:

“You’ll sleep here tonight. The innermost room upstairs.”

Dressed in a soft purple loungewear dress, she glowed under the warm lights. She walked toward me with poised grace, like the head of a household.

…Why did “head of a household” even cross my mind?

“O-okay,” I squeaked under her imposing presence.

“Anything else? If not, go rest.”

Maybe it was my imagination, but her tone seemed slightly softer than earlier. Still, I had to ask.

“Um… about us… I mean, the two of us…” I mumbled, face burning crimson. As a Nine Tailed Fox, tradition said I should offer myself as tribute when pledging loyalty—though for some, the Yao Race might just be an accessory to the gift. But Yejia Yin was a girl! If her earlier “lesbian” comment was a joke… did that mean no political marriage? Or worse—would she marry me off to some subordinate? No, please no!

“Oh right, I forgot to mention,” Yejia Yin said flatly, as if reading my thoughts. “It’s troublesome, but procedures must be followed.”

Huh? Procedures?

She understood me—but I didn’t understand her.

Seeing my blank stare, she clarified: “The procedure is marriage.”

Oh. Marriage.

Wait—WHAT?!

“H-hold on! Marriage? What’s that about?”

“What else could it be?” Yejia Yin frowned, as if my shock was absurd. “You pledged loyalty to me. Of course we need a wedding ceremony.”

A wedding ceremony. Between us.

AHHHH! She really wants to marry me? Is she actually into girls? Does she like me? What do I do? Love should be free… but honestly, it’s better than marrying some random guy, right?

My face sank toward my chest, voice barely a whisper: “Why… a wedding? Isn’t it… too soon?”

We’re so young—I’m sixteen, and if Yejia Yin wasn’t lying, she’s fifteen. We just met… feelings need time to grow, right?

I stood there, fingers fidgeting over my stomach, unaware how girlish I looked.

“Why?” Yejia Yin stared at me like I was an idiot. Her voice turned icy.

“We hold a banquet. Invite every important figure nearby. Let them announce to the world: the Yao Race now answers to the Yeh Family.”

“Was that unclear?”

I… got it. Totally got it.

I nodded frantically, too choked up to speak. Again, I’d jumped to conclusions.

The heat drained from my face, replaced by exhaustion. I stole a glance at Yejia Yin’s frosty expression and silently prayed for my future life.