When I opened my eyes again, a flash of blinding white light nearly knocked out a second ti. Everything in sight was white—white curtains, white canopy, white… undershirt?
I stared for quite a while before realizing that this entire white-on-white décor felt deeply ominous.
My throat tightened. The atmosphere, the layout, even that faint scent of sandalwood—why did everything here feel like a morial hall?
I pinched my own cheek. It hurt. It hurt enough to make my eyes water.
“So, am I dead? Or not dead? Who’s holding vigil for ?”
I was just about to review my turbulent, lodramatic life—from the naïve young master of the Nangong manor to the useless spirit currently trapped in a system-induced illusion—when a cold but childishly soft voice sounded right next to my ear:
“You’re awake. Who are you? Where did you co from? What do you want?”
Wonderful. The interrogation trifecta.
For a mont, I genuinely didn’t know how to answer—after all, I’ve spent over a hundred chapters thinking about those three questions myself and still haven’t figured them out.
I pushed myself up with difficulty and finally realized I was lying on a wooden bed.
In front of it stood a small figure, hands clasped behind his back, chin slightly raised, staring at with a solemn expression.
“You… you’re Lian?” I blurted out.
The kid looked seven or eight at most. His features were delicate, his temperant unexpectedly cold.
But his face was too round.
No matter how frosty his expression, it still ca off as… cute.
Especially those tightly knit little brows—pure pretend ferocity.
I couldn’t help but feel an urge to laugh, but before it surfaced, he flipped his hand and drew a gleaming little dagger from his sleeve.
I: “…”
Right. Kids can kill too.
I quickly put on my friendliest smile. “No no no—don’t! I’m a good guy. Just passing through! My na is Nangong Gong—you can call … Brother Gong!”
Heh. Rare chance to have the upper hand over Lian. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.
Little Lian frowned, squinting at . “Nangong… soone from the General’s Manor?”
My heart sank. Damn. For soone his age, this kid has good ears—just the surna alone told him too much.
I waved my hands fast enough to stir a breeze. “No no no! Pure coincidence! My fate is so bad I don’t even dare step into a temple—how would I ever climb up to so grand noble household?”
Little Lian remained expressionless, dagger still raised. “Then what are you doing here? Why did you call Lian? How did you get in? This place is full of traps.”
Sharp kid. No wonder he grows up to be the Blood Lotus Cult’s future leader.
I rolled my eyes inwardly, then put on a look of righteous indignation. “To tell you the truth! I saw a squad of imperial soldiers running into the mountains shouting about so ‘Cult Leader Lian,’ so I followed them. I didn’t expect them to bully a child! How could I stand by? So I stepped in and risked my life to save you—”
I patted my chest, trying my hardest to look tragic and heroic. “Look! I even got hurt saving you!”
I reached toward the spot where the sword had pierced , ready to show him my “gaping wound still bleeding.”
And then—nothing.
Huh?
I patted the area again. No pain. Looked down. My clothes were spotless, as if freshly laundered.
“Wait—where’s my wound?!”
I froze.
Little Lian watched grope myself like a pervert, his expression turning complicated, as if debating whether or not he should actually attack.
Eventually, his hand holding the dagger lowered by a fraction.
“Then… where’s the other guy?” he suddenly asked. “The one who ca with you? Why did he draw his sword?”
Oh no.
I slapped my forehead hard. Right—Mu Cangli! Where the hell was he?
Weren’t we supposed to trigger the mont when Hua Xiang shields little Lian from the sword? Why did I faint, and then he just vanished?
I forced a smile. “Misunderstanding! All of it! He’s my friend—do you know where he is now?”
Little Lian lifted his chin, looking smug in a very childish way. “Your friend? Hmph. He’s in the eighteenth basent cell of the cult right now. Brother Hua is interrogating him.”
“…What?!”
I nearly shot off the bed.
That’s the Blood Lotus Cult dungeon! I’ve heard their interrogations follow a “one cut, one corpse” operating speed.
I hurriedly plastered on a smile and spoke rapidly. “No no no, Lian, listen to ! He’s not a bad guy. He drew his sword just to—to test your vigilance! Yes! He was helping you train! Think about it—when you’re being chased, ambushes from behind are the most dangerous. If you don’t practice, what happens when you et a real threat later?!”
I even nodded like so scholarly instructor.
“So really, he was doing you a favor! You should thank him!”
Little Lian’s frown deepened. He stared at coldly. “I may be a child, but I’m not stupid.”
His eyes were full of distrust—cold enough to freeze a river.
“You must think I’m a dog to fall for that.”
“I—”
I almost said, “If you want to think you’re a dog, that’s your choice,” but I swallowed it just in ti. I forced a smile. “No no—okay, how about this. Have soone bring my friend here. We’ll explain in person. Actually no need, I’ll go myself. I’m perfectly fine—see, I can walk—”
If I waited for them to “bring” him, Mu Cangli would probably be a corpse by then.
I lifted the blanket to get up, but Lian flashed forward and blocked . “Don’t move. You’re still injured.”
“No worries!” I grinned. “My skin’s thick. Look—my chest is clean enough to use as a mirror—”
I lifted my shirt as I spoke, revealing skin as smooth as new silk.
Lian froze. Then his expression snapped into sothing sharp and icy.
“Demon!”
Instinctively, he swung his dagger.
Fortunately, he was too short. I leaned back just in ti, and the blade only sliced off a strip of my clothing.
I threw both hands up. “No! Look! That sword—see? It really must’ve been a test! Look! I’m not hurt at all!”
Little Lian hesitated mid-strike. His dagger hovered in the air. He stared at without blinking, as though weighing the truth.
Sunlight stread through the window, landing on his small, clean face. That expression—uncertain, startled, slightly shaken—made feel abruptly guilty.
I lowered my voice. “See? I’m really not a bad person.”
Silence.
Then Lian slowly lowered the dagger and spoke softly. “Then who are you? And why… do I feel like I’ve seen you before?”
I froze.
Sothing in my chest tightened.
“Maybe… it’s fate,” I said, forcing my voice into sothing sincere. “I’m really not a bad person. Trust .”
Little Lian frowned, thinking for a long mont, weighing his options. Finally, he said, “Stay here. I’ll have soone bring your friend up.”
I almost leapt off the bed in relief. I nodded quickly. “Good! I’ll stay right here. Not moving an inch!”
Lian dipped his head once and vanished through the doorway.
I exhaled hard and collapsed back onto the bed, heart still pounding.
When I closed my eyes, another question surfaced unbidden—
Why did Hua Xiang, who didn’t shield Lian in the illusion, still manage to advance the scenario’s progression? Did we misinterpret the entire setup?
I took a steady breath, reviewing our four failed attempts in rapid sequence.
First attempt: Lian flicked the stone, Hua Xiang fell backward, little Lian got stabbed.
Second: Hua entered early, got knocked unconscious by a trap; the kids got warned and escaped, but the shield mont never triggered.
Third: I tead with Mu Cangli; the archers shot both kids dead.
Fourth: Full-team operation; Hua Xiang used as a human shield; I passed out… and woke with no wound.
Where was the real inflection point?
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