"Miss, something's happened over at the Hall of Benevolent Origin—they say there's an assassin!" Charlotte Cloud's little maid still hadn't gotten used to the new title, especially when she was nervous. "Miss, should we... should we go hide somewhere?"
Last time scared her half to death, and now she's like a startled bird—jumpy at the slightest hint of trouble.
"You're talking nonsense again. Our courtyard is remote, full of girls who aren't favored. Even if there really is an assassin, they wouldn't bother with nobodies like us." Charlotte Cloud couldn't help but laugh at herself as she said this. She'd shed her fancy dresses for a concubine's outfit, and somehow became 'worthless' in the process—how ridiculous and sad is that?
[Once you take off your dazzling costume, what's left of you?]
Suddenly, the words of that white-haired demon echoed in her mind, rippling through her heart like a dark enchantment.
Charlotte Cloud froze, then shook her head hard, forcing herself to ignore it. She suddenly didn't want to be alone—when it's quiet, those inner voices get way too loud. So she stood up and said, "But the whole assassin thing really has everyone on edge. I bet lots of people are spooked. Come on, prep some gifts. We're going to visit my sister across the way."
"Yes, Miss!"
Charlotte Cloud lived in a courtyard that was kind of like a traditional siheyuan—her neighbor directly across was another concubine, also new to the palace this year. That concubine was nothing special: not cold, not warm, nothing to complain about, but nothing to get excited about either. Pretty enough for regular folks, but among the concubines, she totally blended in. Even her living quarters were tucked away and quiet, with barely any servants around.
But today, Charlotte Cloud decided it was time to knock on the door of friendship.
What she didn't know was, just as she set out, a flash of light flickered inside that house—a gray-clad figure suddenly appeared in the room, silent as a shadow. The gray-clad person staggered as if wounded, quickly dug out a pill from a secret compartment under the bed and swallowed it, but still couldn't help spitting out a mouthful of blood.
"Damn it, that Lewis Ann is really that strong?!" The gray-clad figure was tall and burly—definitely a big guy by appearance, but the voice was cool and clear, unmistakably female. With a series of mechanical clicks and clacks, 'he' trembled all over, the robe bulging and sinking in odd places, moving nonstop. After a particularly loud clack, a pair of delicate pale hands suddenly burst out from the chest area.
The whole scene felt straight out of a horror movie.
The pale hands fumbled around the gray figure's chest and stomach, grabbed a key spot, and tore it open. With a snap, the gray-clad person was split open—turns out it was just a mechanical shell. Out crawled a much smaller figure, a stunning beauty: none other than Faye Bright.
"Whew..." Faye Bright sat on the bed, gasping for breath from exhaustion.
She’d undone a bunch of locked clasps, so now all the hidden damage flared up. The mechanical shell’s side split open, spilling rods and armor plates everywhere—just where Yang Qi’s sword had struck. Even the hilt alone smashed a bunch of devices. If it hadn’t been for that mechanical shell acting as armor, she’d be toast.
Her pretty face went cold, but she quickly fished a Stormstone out of the shell. She held it tight, and it glowed faintly—clearly, she was weighed down by a thousand worries. But the glow was weak, like it had just been whacked over the head; it didn’t look lively at all.
Seeing this, Faye Bright’s expression grew even frostier. While she focused on healing, she cursed in secret: "If I hadn’t changed my sect name and lost all my accumulated power, would Lewis Ann have gotten away with this?"
Whoosh—a second figure darted into the room. This one wore a eunuch’s outfit, but had their head and face covered up tight. They were way more injured than Faye Bright; as soon as they entered, they collapsed with a thud. Faye quickly grabbed another pill, flashed over, and fed it to him. She pulled off his mask—South Sea Sage!
He was the decoy in the diversion, faking an attempt on the Empress’s life to cover for Faye Bright. He took the biggest risks, endured the fiercest pursuit, used every trick to ditch his pursuers, and by the time he made it here, he was barely crawling.
But he still struggled to look at Faye Bright, his eyes full of hope: "Saintess..."
But Faye Bright just shook her head silently.
Howard Cao closed his eyes in disappointment, but after a moment, he composed himself and regained his cool. "Saintess, according to yesterday's message from the Sacred Flame Token, the Promised Land will open ahead of schedule. Our original plan is completely upended—we can't afford to take things slowly, which is why we took such a risk today. Liu An was supposed to be our best breakthrough, and today was the perfect chance. But since this path is blocked, we have no choice but to give up..."
"No way, absolutely not! The other candidate Saintesses must have backup plans. No matter what, I have to find the second Sacred Flame Token if I want any chance of winning!"
"But Saintess..." Howard Cao tried to persuade her further, but Faye Bright suddenly stopped him. "Quiet, someone's coming!"
Just as Faye finished speaking, Charlotte Cloud's voice came from outside: "Sister, your little sis is here to see you."
The voice was close—just a few steps away from entering the room. Time was tight, but Faye Bright, though startled, kept her cool. She swept the mechanism's casing under the bed with her foot. When there was no more room, she casually tossed Howard Cao up onto the ceiling beam. At the same time, she pulled a mask from her clothes, replying, "Sister, wait a second—I'm coming!" as she slapped the mask on her face like a beauty patch.
Her hands moved like a blur, smearing all sorts of random stuff on her face. In just a few breaths, she’d finished her disguise. By the time Faye Bright greeted her guest, she looked completely different—just like that concubine who’d stared at Jill Young twice in the Hall of Benevolent Origin. She secretly flashed Howard Cao a 'hang in there' gesture, then started chatting with Charlotte Cloud.
[Web navigation note skipped: This chapter isn't over yet~.~ Click next page for more excitement!]
The plan was in shambles, but she still managed to adjust her mindset quickly. Her demeanor was graceful yet unremarkable—neither clumsy nor exceptional, just utterly ordinary.
That’s the way of the assassin.
[Section divider skipped: ——— Sacred Flame Token Divider ———]
The days went by, one after another.
The Hall of Benevolent Origin assassination caused a huge uproar in the palace—even Minister Simon Jia was alarmed. At a time like this, every little rumor got blown out of proportion, let alone something as big as an attempt on the Empress’s life. But what did that have to do with Eunuch Chief Yvonne? Absolutely nothing. Instead, she suddenly found herself free from her usual busy schedule, with time every day to do something else.
She often left the palace to wander around Lin’an. She’d use remote sensing to project her spirit into the Divine Life Core, giving orders to her crew from afar. More often, she’d sneak back to Imperial Consort Mia Wise’s quarters, spending her days discussing martial arts with Joan and Simone.
She was about to break through; Simone was too. Even the brand-new Refining Ovum into Qi technique was showing promise, and was close to a breakthrough. At times like these, exchanging ideas with other experts was the best way to level up. Every day, her inner sword grew sharper and tougher. Every day, she got one step closer to her goal.
Meanwhile, the Yin-Yang Compendium had all three of them completely hooked—and after plenty of back-and-forth brainstorming, a whole new idea was starting to take shape.
During this time, far away, Master Yideng’s funeral was held.
Not many people attended the funeral, and there were no paper offerings, smashed jars, or noisy rituals—none of the usual fuss. For someone like David Duan, a king, it was almost too plain. Still, the ceremony was simple but deeply solemn.
Under the pitch-black sky, people built a huge wooden pyre. Master Yideng lay atop it, dressed in simple monk’s robes, hands folded peacefully over his chest. His face was serene, even a little joyful, as if his last wish had finally come true. Gabriel Yang, Lydia Drake, Grace Kwok, and Duke Simon Duan each took a torch and lit the pyre from four directions at once.
Flames leapt up, burning bright. In the blaze, Master Yideng looked just like he was peacefully sleeping.
Xuzhu once said in the Heart Severing and Thought Cutting Technique: Life is one big dream—one end fades, another awakens. If the Three Realms Ablaze really exist, if this world truly is a house on fire, then Master Yideng’s passing here is a kind of liberation.
Grace Kwok stared at the flames, gently patting Junior’s head and asked softly, "Junior, do you think there’s really such a thing as reincarnation?"
It’s a question that troubles more than just one person—faced with life and death, everyone wants to ask it.
As the Reincarnated Divine Child, even Junior gazed at the flames, lost in thought. Something deep inside him was stirred; his expression grew complicated. "I used to think I was just me. Then I thought I was the Reincarnated Divine Child. Now? I don’t even know anymore…"
"Hahaha, whether there’s reincarnation or not, you’ve got to live this life with style! Here, Big Monk, I toast you!" Howard Hopeless looked totally down and out, like a scholar who’d just failed the imperial exam. But right now, he raised a huge bowl with gusto, gulped it down in one go, then smashed it on the ground with a loud crack.
He wiped his mouth, slung his sword and lute over his shoulder, and walked away.
Duke Simon Duan hurried after him, shouting, "Where do you think you’re going?"
"I’m heading to Lin’an!" Howard Hopeless’s eyes flashed like swords. "She can ignore me, she can chase her own happiness, but she absolutely cannot marry some old, lecherous geezer!"
Duke Simon Duan watched Howard Hopeless’s retreating figure, his face a storm of emotions. Suddenly, he slapped his own head with both hands, again and again. The sound echoed, and he let out a gut-wrenching howl. Then, straightening up, he strode forward and went off with Howard Hopeless.
He’d decided: no more hiding, no more cowardice.
"Why are you tagging along? Don’t get in my way."
"My legs are attached to me—I’ll walk wherever I want. Not your problem."
The two of them argued all the way, getting farther and farther away. They were never really No One Under Heaven’s lackeys anyway—coming and going as they pleased.
Gabriel Yang watched them leave with admiration. Breaking through was definitely in the cards for these two.
And so, life went on—simple but fulfilling, with each day slipping quietly by.
When everyone finally snapped out of their own drama and looked up, they realized the palace was decked out with lanterns and streamers, and everyone was in a festive mood.
It was Mid-Autumn Festival.