She knew the young man with silk-bound hair by the window was Yu Lin’an—hands capable of turning decay into wonder, skilled in paper craft, spirit writing, and puppetry.
Loud, dramatic.
She knew the little girl was Bai Xiao, truly just a child, not yet twelve.
She always carried a small jade tube filled with special incense used for practicing scent arts.
She knew the sharp-tongued woman was Lin Yu, nocturnal and antisocial, always sullen, and frighteningly fast in movement.
Her cultivation leaned toward tracking and assassination.
She also knew Sang Chu had a gentle temperament, always calm and courteous.
Many past frictions between Fuyu and the Demon Suppression Bureau were only resolved thanks to his mediating efforts.
After so many years in court, Su Lingxi had met all kinds of difficult people and strange situations—her skill in reading others was second to none.
Over the past few days, she had thrown many subtle choices their way.
Just like tonight—should she come to them, or should they come to her?
Usually, there were only two answers: come or don’t, meet or don’t.
The people lurking around the Imperial Advisor’s manor made it obvious—they wanted to meet her.
That’s why she had told Xiuliu: if it were her, she would take the initiative.
If you want something from someone, being proactive gives you more control.
Or they could have chosen not to meet at all—Fuyu was proud, and court officials held little sway there.
But they had done neither.
Their ambiguous attitude sent a clear signal: they wanted to meet, but couldn’t make the first move.
They didn’t directly refuse because Su Lingxi hadn’t shown herself for seventeen days.
Missing this chance, then sending a signal that Fuyu didn’t want contact, would go against their real intentions.
They couldn’t make the first move because their true purpose was secret, and saying too much might alert her.
They needed something from her—an answer only she could give.
As expected, their delay in joining the demon-hunting operation meant that the mission they had received included more than just demon-hunting.
A dark shadow briefly passed through Su Lingxi’s eyes.
She reached into her sleeve, pulled out two paper talismans, and pressed them to the table corner. Then, as if to justify herself, she gave a faint, unreadable smile:
“I let your people wander around the Imperial Advisor’s manor for days. Only tonight did I apprehend someone.”
“How is that unfriendly?”
Sang Chu, closest to her, recognized them at once—these were paper-thin jade talismans unique to Fuyu, symbolizing individual identities.
Once those appeared, there was no point in testing anymore—the infiltration had been thoroughly exposed.
And their person had been captured.
Things had suddenly taken a turn for the worse.
Even someone as calm as Sang Chu found it headache-inducing.
“What does the Imperial Advisor intend to do?”
“Take them to the palace. Let His Majesty see them,” Su Lingxi said.
“Given the looming threat, Fuyu and the Demon Suppression Bureau are expected to stand united. At least, that’s what people believe. But now… that seems questionable.
Let His Majesty see for himself. Perhaps he’ll start to wonder whether there might be internal conflict between us.”
“The Imperial Advisor leads the Demon Suppression Bureau and is already a controversial figure.
People say seeing is believing. Since we’re to work together, and a few curious children wanted to observe the Imperial Advisor ahead of time—it may have been rude, but there was no ill intent. We hope for your forgiveness.”
Su Lingxi neither agreed nor disagreed:
“Whether there was ill intent… let His Majesty decide.”
And that—was the real issue.
Sang Chu’s mind echoed with what Su Lingxi had said earlier:
“Fuyu is pure and lofty—best to come clean, and leave clean.”
By “clean,” she meant it was best not to get entangled with the royal family, not to be remembered or targeted by them—especially not by the Emperor himself, the one who held the Dragon Vein and the State-Sealing Seal.
For a brief moment, Sang Chu even wondered if every word Su Lingxi spoke tonight, and the exact order she spoke them in, had been carefully calculated in advance.
That line of hers—was it a warning? With that in mind, who would want to go meet the Emperor?
Since they didn’t want to go, they had to offer something in exchange.
And look at her—she didn’t beat around the bush. She laid her demands out plainly from the very beginning.
Sang Chu’s gaze darkened.
He stared at Su Lingxi without speaking for a long while.
But Su Lingxi understood what that look meant. Fuyu’s people had their pride.
If they had to bow their heads and compromise, so be it—as long as she got what she came for.
She loosened her fingers and pushed the jade token back toward Sang Chu, returning it to its rightful owner.
“The Imperial Advisor’s guards will immediately escort the two harmless children back to the Northern Institute.”
She was satisfied now, so her tone shifted to something more like casual conversation.
When she mentioned “children” and “harmless,” there was even a slight chuckle in her voice—
It was hard to tell if she was being sarcastic or not, but it made people’s ears burn all the same.
“These are communication talismans used within the Demon Suppression Bureau. They ignite without fire and can be used fifteen times each.” Su Lingxi raised her eyebrows slightly as she dropped a small stack of pale blue talismans on the table.
Her eyes swept around the room as she calmly confirmed:
“If something comes up, I’ll be able to reach you in time, right?”
With the upper hand fully taken, Bai Xiao spoke up, her face taut:
“If needed, we’ll naturally help you hunt demons. But we can’t guarantee we’ll always be available. Once our Commander arrives, we may have other duties.”
Su Lingxi looked at her and casually asked,
“When will your Commander arrive?”
Bai Xiao’s expression became particularly odd. She turned her head away, lips twitching slightly.
After a pause, Sang Chu answered on her behalf:
“We don’t know. No message has come yet.”
Su Lingxi nodded and stood up straight.
As she did, the silver bell on her waist jingled softly—though it made no actual sound, looking more like a round, stuffed sachet, soon tucked beneath her pouch and robe.
“It’s getting late,” she said, glancing out at the moon through the window.
She turned to Sang Chu and offered a courteous closing remark:
“I’ll leave future matters in your capable hands.”
—Now she says it’s late.
Wasn’t she the one who chose the time?
Once Su Lingxi’s figure had left the room, joining the lady official at her side and disappearing into the night fog, they waited a moment longer—until even the sound of footsteps had completely faded.
As the gates of the Northern Institute closed behind her, most of the people inside could no longer keep their composure.
“She just… left?”
Someone asked.
“What else? Three sentences, she got what she wanted, why would she stick around to have supper with you?”
Lin Yu lifted her eyelids and shot back.
When Su Lingxi arrived at the Demon Suppression Bureau, many were already asleep.
They had woken abruptly upon hearing the news, hastily grabbing an outer robe and rushing over.
Yu Lin’an had literally leapt out of bed.
So had Lin Yu.
She barely slept at night, and when she did finally sleep, she’d been woken up.
Now she’d come all the way over, only to lose the round before even stepping into the ring—it made her feel incredibly foolish, and her expression soured even more.
Bai Xiao raised her chin, hands still quietly pressing the hem of her dress, frowning:
“Why did we hand over command authority so quickly? We could’ve drawn things out, gotten her to reveal more. Who knows what she might’ve let slip?”
Sang Chu explained:
“Su Lingxi isn’t easy to deal with. She’s grown considerably over the years—she’s unpredictable. We handed her leverage, offended her. There’s no telling how much patience she would’ve had for games.
The command wasn’t something we needed anyway—keeping it would only cause more trouble. Meeting the Emperor over it would’ve been unnecessary, and making Su Lingxi think we meant her harm would’ve been a mistake.”
Bai Xiao’s face stayed tight, not a hint of a smile. Her voice was cold as ice, like a porcelain snow doll brought to life.
She stated plainly:
“Su Lingxi isn’t like what you all said.”
Not just “not like”—she was completely different.
Sang Chu quietly returned Su Lingxi’s used teacup to its original place.
He looked up at the few others in the room and said:
“Then perhaps we should ask Su Lingxi’s… good friends.”
The ones he looked at instantly felt uneasy, though they had prepared themselves for this moment.
Still, faces went stiff, hearts pounded, but they tried to maintain a front of uprightness—as if their faces said:
“Who’s Su Lingxi’s friend? Not me.”
When Lin Yu saw Sang Chu’s gaze linger on her a bit too long, she scowled and snapped:
“What are you looking at me for? You sick or something?”
Eventually, everyone’s eyes settled on a single person.
Faced with their stares, Yu Lin’an’s mouth twitched.
He looked like he wanted to explain something but didn’t know how.
After a long hesitation, he rubbed his nose and said:
“Asking anyone won’t help. Haven’t you all met Su Lingxi? Never spoken with her before?”
“The way she used to be—even if she lost her memory, she’d still be curious, right? At least ask questions, yeah? But did you see her ask a single thing tonight? She didn’t care at all.”
As he spoke, the spirit orb rolling in Yu Lin’an’s palm lit up briefly.
He glanced down and frowned, then looked up again:
“Things are already like this, and I think she did just fine tonight.”
“What else could she do?”
Fourteen years—it wasn’t fourteen days, or even fourteen months.
The rumors about the Imperial Advisor among the people were too many to count.
Pieced together in chronological order, you could faintly trace the path of one person’s growth—becoming more precise, more decisive, more ruthless.
Able to overturn clouds and rain, command life and death.
While they were riding cranes and fish through Tianshan, picking celestial dew from Zhongnan, and plucking immortal blossoms—
Su Lingxi was at the borders, quelling rebellion, negotiating surrenders, and protecting a sickly emperor’s empire.
While they were dozing off in the Four Academies beneath the hot sun, listening to lectures and awaiting assessments—
Su Lingxi had already endured betrayals, been jointly impeached by court officials in the Tai Chi Hall, and stood beneath the Emperor’s suspicious gaze.
When it came to cultivation or magical arts, maybe they could compare to her now.
But when it came to strategy, to schemes—trying to see through Su Lingxi’s thoughts with one glance?
That would be a joke.
Sang Chu understood what Yu Lin’an meant, and agreed with it.
He sighed deeply:
“If things are like this, finding the Twelve Witches… will be even harder.”
“Let’s first worry about the things at hand.”
Yu Lin’an raised the spirit orb in his hand, suspending it in mid-air.
His fingers tapped on the message above it:
“I just received news—Ye Zhuxu has come out of the Zhongnan pass.”
He thought of certain possibilities, and a slight ache spread in his teeth:
“I can’t say exactly when he’ll arrive, but it’ll be in the next couple of days.”
“If he and Su Lingxi meet…”
Yu Lin’an couldn’t bring himself to imagine what that scene might look like.
He swiped his hand in the air and released the orb:
“I’m worried they might ‘boom,’ and blow up Chang’an City.”
As the words fell, the surroundings fell into complete silence.
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