"The source of the memory stone is confidential; spirit stones are non-refundable! — Tingfeng Pavilion."
"Smack!"
Cang Dongqing slammed the communication jade slip onto the side table. Her knuckles turned white from the force, her chest heaving as she stared at the cold reply from Tingfeng Pavilion. Her fingernails left several white scratches on the tabletop.
"Well played, Tingfeng Pavilion..." she suddenly sneered, sweeping the jade slip to the floor.
Tingfeng Pavilion's refusal to reveal the source meant either the other party had a significant background or the chips she could currently offer were far from enough.
Cang Dongqing took a deep breath, knowing that losing her temper was pointless. She forced herself to calm down, leaned over to pick up the jade slip, and rubbed the words "source confidential" with her thumb. Her gaze gradually sharpened.
"Since I can't buy the information..." she murmured to herself, "then I'll find it myself."
She injected spiritual energy, and the images within the jade slip unfolded once more. This time, Cang Dongqing didn't watch the battle in the center. Instead, she stared intently at the edges of the frame—the blurred shadows of the trees, the rock that only showed half a corner, even the direction of every blood splatter on the ground.
During the third playback, she suddenly pressed the pause button.
"This is..."
The image froze a few seconds before she swung her dagger. Cang Dongqing narrowed her eyes, seeing that the folds on her right sleeve were unnaturally tight—clear evidence of her forcefully pushing someone.
Fortunately, the image wasn't comprehensive. Even if someone with an agenda guessed the truth... they probably wouldn't be able to reach a conclusion.
Footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door. Cang Dongqing quickly adjusted her expression, putting on a look of fearful unease the moment the door was pushed open. Lin Shuang stood at the doorway holding her sword, the wound on her abdomen faintly visible through her light silk robes.
"Senior Sister?" Cang Dongqing stood up timidly, her fingers nervously twisting the corner of her clothes.
Lin Shuang closed the door behind her and thudded her scabbard onto the floor. "Explain the matter with the memory stone."
"It wasn't me who released it!" Cang Dongqing's eyes reddened with anxiety. "I only found out today as well..."
"I'm asking about this angle," Lin Shuang suddenly interrupted, drawing her sword and pointing it directly at Cang Dongqing. "It just happened to capture you standing behind me and taking action, yet it failed to capture you pushing me." She sneered. "Quite a coincidence, isn't it?"
Without looking up, Cang Dongqing raised her hand and gently pushed the sword tip away. "What do you want me to say, Senior Sister Lin? That you were blocking me?" She suddenly looked up, her eyes filled with innocent confusion. "Or... should I thank you for taking that palm strike for me?"
The blade traced a thin line of blood on her neck, but Lin Shuang's hand was as steady as ice. "That push you gave me that day—did you think I might die?"
"So?" Cang Dongqing suddenly laughed, wiping the blood from her neck with a fingertip. "What do you plan to do? Cry to the sovereign? If I say it was a mistake made in the heat of the moment, would you believe me? Or does Senior Sister intend to let the entire sect know their 'hero who slayed the evil' is a villain who used a fellow disciple as a shield?" She rose and pressed toward Lin Shuang, uncaring as the sword tip touched her throat. "Guess how our wise and martial sovereign will judge? An overreaction during combat? Or a loss of composure on the battlefield?"
"You!"
"Me what? Since you're so certain, Senior Sister, why don't you go report me to the Hall of Discipline?" She suddenly reached out and grasped the blade, blood snaking down the silver-bright steel. "Unless... you simply can't bear to lose me, your junior sister?"
Lin Shuang jerked the sword back, blood droplets splashing onto the cosmetic box. "Who do you think the sovereign will believe?"
"He will believe the evidence, naturally." Cang Dongqing leisurely wrapped her hand with a handkerchief. "The memory stone didn't capture me pushing anyone." She suddenly tilted her head with a smile. "On the contrary, it captured me remaining calm in the face of danger and outsmarting an evil cultivator."
The playful chatter of disciples drifted in from outside the window, and the discussion of "Senior Sister Cang is so amazing" could be faintly heard.
Lin Shuang's sword tip trembled slightly. "Aren't you afraid—"
"Afraid of what?" Cang Dongqing suddenly stood up with a bang, making the hairpins in the cosmetic box jingle. "Afraid that your clumsy tongue can't outtalk the elders of the Hall of Discipline? Or that the sovereign won't be willing to discard the newly established role model?" She leaned close to Lin Shuang's ear, her breath like a venomous snake's hiss. "Senior Sister... you don't even know how to be a witness."
Lin Shuang's sword clattered to the ground. She knew very well that Cang Dongqing was telling the truth. Whether it was Zhao Wufeng or Ling Xiao, they both placed the sect's interests first. Now that such a genius girl had emerged in the sect, they would never allow a stain to touch her.
"Don't be so tense." Cang Dongqing smiled as she picked up Lin Shuang's sword and shoved it back into her hand. "If I hadn't used poison in time, would you even be standing here talking?" She suddenly lowered her voice. "Is it a hard choice between one person dying or four?"
Lin Shuang recoiled half a step, her body hitting the doorframe with a dull thud.
"Senior Sister, sometimes you should stop putting on this righteous act." Cang Dongqing sat back at the tea table, leisurely looking at herself in the bronze mirror. "You know in your heart that the memory stone wasn't released by me. Taking your anger out on me is meaningless."
"Do you know who it was then!" Lin Shuang snapped her eyes toward Cang Dongqing.
"What if I do? What if I don't?" Cang Dongqing slammed the jade slip onto the table. "Are you going to go question them why they didn't capture the full glory of your heroic injury?" She suddenly tilted her head and gave a sweet smile. "Senior Sister, when did you become so naive?"
Lin Shuang finally stopped responding and left in a rage. As she turned, she knocked over an entire box of rouge. The crimson powder spilled all over the floor, looking remarkably like the blood that had splashed on Cang Dongqing's hem that day.
"Leaving already?" Cang Dongqing called out to her staggering back. "At tomorrow's celebration banquet, your junior sister will be waiting for you to offer a toast!"
The door was slammed shut with a deafening bang. Cang Dongqing stared at the face in the mirror that usually feigned weakness, then suddenly struck with her fingers like a blade, shattering the bronze mirror. Midst the flying shards, a sharp, unmasked edge finally surfaced in her eyes.
"Fool," she sneered at the empty doorway.
"They all think I am a dodder flower..."
Cang Dongqing's fingertips lightly brushed over the communication jade slip. In the countless fragments of the broken mirror, many versions of her curled their lips simultaneously.
How ridiculous. Even though the entire sect was now praising her for "slaying an enemy of a higher rank," those senior brothers and sisters would still instinctively soften their steps when passing her courtyard—as if afraid of disturbing their "fragile" little junior sister.
She suddenly thought of the spirit medicine Le Changxi had sent yesterday. That idiot had even specifically urged her: "Don't push yourself too hard in your cultivation." How amusing. Even though the memory stone recorded her heroic feat of heavily injuring a Golden Core stage evil cultivator, they still felt she needed protection.
"But... isn't this exactly the effect I wanted?" Cang Dongqing twirled a lock of hair around her finger. The facade she had meticulously maintained for over three months was already ingrained in her bones—the slightly trembling fingertips, the perfectly timed stumbles. These details woven into her disguise were more effective than any protective treasure.
But the appearance of the memory stone still felt like a thorn in her throat.
"It's too deliberate..." she repeatedly rubbed the surface of the stone. This filming angle was terrifyingly precise, perfectly showcasing her "bravery" while cleverly avoiding all the details that might expose her true nature.
It was as if someone understood how to maintain the perfect illusion of "Junior Sister Cang" even better than she did herself.
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