Things unfolded largely as Yedi had anticipated, proceeding relatively smoothly.

He strolled along a wooded path on the campus hillside, deep in thought.

“The exam itself isn’t a concern… but how do I obtain a recommendation letter and academic records from that other academy?” Yedi had only ever taught swordsmanship at the academy—living freely, untouched by mundane affairs. He truly had no idea about such procedures.

Though powerful, he wasn’t skilled at handling bureaucratic matters. Moreover, that so-called distant academy… he vaguely knew of one near the Empire’s border, so remote and perilous that it rarely contacted the outside world. But he’d never been there. He couldn’t possibly obtain genuine documents from it.

“I’ll need to think of another way…” Even the most secluded academies had their own heritage. Every academic record bore unique, sophisticated anti-forgery seals. The dean might not know that remote academy’s specifics, but her discernment was sharp. She wouldn’t be easily fooled.

The afternoon held second-year swordsmanship classes. As long as it wasn’t Qingruo’s class, teaching others brought Yedi little pressure.

“That woman… her progress is terrifyingly fast. From now on, I mustn’t casually agree to spar with her again.” Hands tucked in his pockets, Yedi walked with a rare, cherished ease—the posture of a carefree young man—heading toward the rear mountain’s training grounds.

By evening, a gentle spring breeze swept across the forest clearing.

*Clang! Clang!*

Sword flashes, gilded by the setting sun, sliced through the air.

Qingruo had just finished her Holy Church lessons and now practiced swordsmanship in this small training ground. The academy had countless such secluded spots.

Clad in the white swordsmanship uniform of a female student, she wore fitted white trousers beneath the tunic-like top, paired with knee-high leather boots.

As a Lady Templar Knight, she never exposed her body lightly. Beyond the standard academy skirts, she chose trousers even for practical uniforms like this one for swordsmanship or riding.

After all, the female swordsmanship uniform offered both trouser and skirt options.

*Whoosh!*

Qingruo thrust her sword forward—a silver meteor streaking through dusk.

Though in trousers, the fine fabric clung perfectly to her form. During vigorous movements, it revealed the elegant contours of her hips and legs with dignified grace.

“Hmph…” Despite the sharp thrust, dissatisfaction flickered across her face. She flicked her sword, sending a silvery *zing* through the air.

Her raven-black hair settled slowly over her shoulders.

“What’s wrong with me today…?” Qingruo pulled out a snow-white silk handkerchief, dabbing sweat from her face and neck. Though she’d trained intensely that afternoon, her mind felt strangely distracted.

*Teacher Yedi…* Yesterday’s incident still troubled her.

“Gallilu confirmed no new teachers arrived recently, and Teacher Yedi hasn’t changed rooms. That’s certain. Then… who was that girl?”

“Why did she emerge from Teacher Yedi’s room at night… and head straight to bathe? Could it be… she and Teacher Yedi…”

“Is this why his strength has diminished?”

“No. Impossible.”

Qingruo shook her head firmly. Yedi embodied the noblest, most disciplined ideal of a Holy Temple Knight. Though she’d heard whispers of corruption within the Sacred Temple Knights, Teacher Yedi was beyond reproach!

Even after seeing a stunning girl in sleepwear exit his room at night, Qingruo refused to believe he’d broken his vows or abandoned his faith.

Yet the evidence she’d gathered was undeniable.

She’d wanted to confront Yedi that afternoon but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Restless, she’d fled to train until sweat soaked her clothes—but it changed nothing.

Her heart remained unsettled.

She held no romantic feelings for Yedi. But she revered him. Worried for him. Trusted him more than anyone—even more than her powerful father or influential family elders.

If Yedi had truly fallen… it would shatter her world. In this morally decaying Empire, if even someone as pure and noble as Yedi could be corrupted… did true holiness still exist?

She refused to be the only one left standing. Knowing of the Empire’s—or even the Holy Church’s—corruption wouldn’t shake her unwavering faith in the Holy Lord!

Her life belonged to the Holy Lord. That was her purpose.

Personal desires? Earthly cravings? Such impurities had no place in her existence.

Still… she couldn’t bring herself to question Teacher Yedi directly. If it was a misunderstanding, it would wound his reputation and betray her trust.

“I won’t ask Teacher Yedi… but I *will* investigate that girl.” Qingruo’s eyes shimmered like water catching the golden sunset.

A girl investigating another girl wouldn’t tarnish a Templar Knight’s honor. Nor would it directly accuse Teacher Yedi.

“Who *is* she? What is she doing in his room every night?”

With precise, controlled grace, Qingruo slid her long blade into its sheath at her waist.

Night descended over the hills of the Imperial Sacred Academy.

Qingruo didn’t return to the dormitory. Instead, she slipped quietly along hidden paths, avoiding notice, until she reached the teachers’ apartment building.

Only a few scattered lights glowed in the vast structure.

It was slightly earlier than when she’d come last night.

“Judging by last night… that girl clearly stays here often. Otherwise, she wouldn’t carry sleepwear and towels. I might see her again tonight.”

“This time, I *will* uncover the truth.”

Qingruo’s brow furrowed with resolve. She entered the building, moving soundlessly up the creaking stairs.

On the landing between the second and third floors, she knelt in the shadows—less a beacon of the Holy Temple Knights, more a knight of the night.

She knew this wasn’t honorable. But for this mentor, this friend, she *had* to know the truth. If that girl was corrupting him… Qingruo would show no mercy.

Near the hour of last night’s encounter…

Just as doubt began to creep in, a soft *click* echoed from above.

“Right on time…”

Silence followed—a pause to check the empty corridor. Then came light, unhurried footsteps. She’d grown accustomed to this place.

From the rhythm alone, Qingruo knew it was her.

She waited until the footsteps faded before creeping up the stairs, peering down the corridor.

There—her silhouette. Slender, pale shoulders. Layered mid-length hair. Tonight, she wore black lace-trimmed camisole sleepwear, a towel in hand, stepping into the candlelit bathhouse.

Qingruo glanced back. Only Teacher Yedi’s room glowed with candlelight. The girl had definitely come from there.

That hair… even from behind, it was unmistakably the same girl. Qingruo’s own hair fell in perfect silk; this girl’s layered locks had left a deep impression. Honestly, she didn’t dislike that texture—it was simply so different from her own.

“She changed sleepwear too?” Qingruo’s expression hardened. This time, she’d demand answers. Why did this girl dress like this, haunting Teacher Yedi’s nights?

She glided down the corridor, stopping beside the bathhouse door. Above it hung a copper plaque carved with a woman holding a water jug, draped in cloth—marking it as the women’s bath.

Qingruo pressed her back against the wall, hidden in the door’s shadow.

*Shhhhk… Shhhhk…*

Steam. Water.

Tiye tilted her head back, letting the shower cascade over her smooth skin.

The water’s rush offered fleeting relief from the discomfort of her female form. At least this was one aspect of being a girl she could enjoy.

After days of observation, she’d confirmed no one else lived on this floor. Evening maids never cleaned the teachers’ quarters. Tiye was growing accustomed to it.

The only discomfort came after bathing—the scent of shampoo clinging to her damp skin, a reminder of her reality.

She reached for the black sleepwear hanging on the shower’s wooden door.

Dressed again, towel and glass bottle of bath oil from the capital in hand, Tiye stepped out.

The bathhouse stood empty. Occasionally, female martial arts instructors used it during the day—enough to explain its usage to cleaning staff.

Bathed and cooled by the night breeze, Tiye let her worries fade. For now, her body felt wonderfully at ease. She pushed open the bathhouse door.

As her slender, pale leg crossed the threshold and her body turned toward her room—

A rush of warm wind hit her from behind.

*Slap!*

A strong yet slender hand seized her wrist.

A potent, musky scent—utterly unlike her own post-bath freshness—washed over her. It carried the heat of intense exertion.

“Who—?!”

Tiye’s strength had waned, but her reflexes remained sharp.

Instinctively, she grabbed the arm gripping her, bent low, and drove her hip backward. She felt it connect with firm, trembling fabric. Feigning lost balance, she yanked her assailant toward her shoulder, aiming to throw them forward.

But the taller figure behind her proved far more skilled than expected.

Qingruo’s long hair whipped through the air. She hadn’t anticipated such fierce resistance. Off-balance, she reacted with instinctive brilliance. Instead of resisting, she swung her leg high, twisting her waist mid-air. Using her opponent’s momentum and her own powerful rotation, she landed on one foot—and flipped Tiye over her shoulder.

Yet Tiye clung tight. Locked in combat, neither could gain advantage. They tumbled together, limbs entangled.

Tiye felt weightless—the other girl’s supple strength, the cascade of long hair—all spinning in the dark.

She hit the floor hard, pinned beneath a body radiating intoxicating warmth.

Qingruo’s impossibly long, silken hair spilled across the floor, tangling with the Eastern-style braid resting on Tiye’s shoulder.

Two girls. Both with night-dark hair. Like shadows merging.

Their breaths mingled—a heady perfume of night-blooming flowers in spring’s twilight.

Qingruo realized her position: the softness beneath her chest pressed firmly against Tiye’s equally generous curves.

Their long legs were tangled—Qingruo’s more muscular, Tiye’s astonishingly supple.

The damp, floral scent of Tiye’s bath seeped into Qingruo’s skin—a fragrance utterly foreign to her own.

Tiye, meanwhile, was enveloped by a curtain of midnight hair and a breath that made her thoughts melt.