Rong Ji stopped there, leaving the rest unsaid.
Sang Ruo suddenly realized that those memories might be a hurdle Rong Ji found difficult to overcome. She thoughtfully changed the subject: “In that case, did you find out what those ‘trophies’ actually are?”
Rong Ji was silent for a moment. “It is said there are women’s undergarments, embroidered shoes…”
It was the first time Sang Ruo had heard Rong Ji speak with such a cold voice.
“There is also evidence of bloodier crimes,” Rong Ji paused. “For instance, regarding the fire Miss Jilan mentioned, he must have kept something related to it.”
Jilan’s eyes widened, her fists clenched white. She found it difficult to comprehend: “But why? Isn’t that just leaving evidence against himself?”
Rong Ji said hollowly, “Because he lives in an environment where he is backed by a power no one can shake. No matter what he does, it is settled and forgiven. Naturally, he seeks more ‘thrilling’ things, treating it like a game. That is his arrogance.”
Jilan understood only partially. “Then, if we find those things, can we use them to deal with him?”
Sang Ruo shook her head gently. “It is not enough.”
Rong Ji remained silent.
“Not enough!?” Jilan bit her lip. “Is it because physical evidence alone is insufficient? I can be a witness; I will testify against him.”
Two sets of eyes focused on her. She lowered her head nervously.
Sang Ruo looked at her seriously. “You will be dragged into this.”
Jilan replied, “I am not afraid! I am all alone now. If I feared such things, I would not have appeared here tonight. Is that… enough?”
Sang Ruo still shook her head. “Still not enough.”
“Why?”
“It is not enough because he is backed by the City Lord,” Sang Ruo explained.
The City Lord had only this one son. Even if the truth could not be suppressed, he would use his influence to turn black into white. When power rules, justice vanishes. In such a world, reasoning with them does not work.
Jilan was at a loss. “Then what should we do?”
Sang Ruo guided her patiently: “The simplest way is to kill him right here. I will do it for you.”
Jilan hesitated, but Rong Ji spoke up: “Stop teasing her. Since you put it that way, you must have a plan?”
Sang Ruo’s gaze fell on Rong Ji, a smile flashing in her eyes.
“It is not actually difficult. We just need ‘momentum’.”
If there is injustice, and if there are roadblocks in the way, then push them all over. Given the current state of Ganmu City, the only real way out is to break the existing order, remove the rot, and scrape the poison from the bone.
The three of them searched together and eventually found a secret passage in the Young City Lord’s room leading to a hidden chamber. The contents inside were… an eye-opener.
The System quickly pixelated its own vision, murmuring: 【I am no longer a clean System.】
After emerging, both Rong Ji and Jilan looked pale. Sang Ruo gave the Young City Lord another disgusted kick with the tip of her toe. She truly did not understand why humans enjoyed creating such twisted complications.
Considering her future plans, she did not touch the items in the secret room. Instead, Sang Ruo wiped the Young City Lord’s memory and made a few “adjustments.”
As the banquet drew to a close, Jilan changed into a Divine Attendant’s outfit and left with the Divine Court’s procession. It was only then she realized that the gentle, beautiful girl was actually the esteemed High Priest!
She immediately swore an oath to the God she respected most, promising to keep their secret forever.
Rong Ji gave a slight nod in her capacity as the High Priest, acknowledging her presence. Furthermore, because one can never be too careful, and for both safety and protection, Jilan would stay in the Divine Court for a while until the plan reached fruition.
As they left the City Lord’s Manor, Rong Ji gently lifted the curtain of the cloud carriage. Guards were patrolling everywhere, shouting that the Young City Lord had been attacked.
The Manor intended to temporarily detain the guests to find the culprit, but many guests held power of their own and refused to comply, leading to a commotion. No one dared to stop the people from the Divine Court. Sang Ruo and the others left smoothly, leaving the rest to argue among themselves.
Jilan still looked uneasy. Sang Ruo spoke slowly, “Do you know what it means to ‘shift the trouble onto another’?”
Jilan: “…?”
Rong Ji took off her mask, revealing her natural smile, and explained to Jilan: “It is a long story. In short, besides the Young City Lord, we have another person to deal with. It is better to lead the two of them into a fight.”
Previously, due to some of Sang Ruo’s actions, there had been minor friction between the City Lord’s Manor and the forces Mei Si kept in the shadows. What would happen if a fire were lit between them now?
That was a story for later. Sang Ruo remained silent, signaling her agreement.
Back at the Divine Court.
As they entered the High Priest’s residence, Lan Nineteen had already been sent back by Mei Si. She was agitated: “You have no idea what kind of day I’ve had…”
Seeing an extra person behind them, she froze.
Rong Ji briefly explained that this was a new Divine Attendant. Lan Nineteen understood she was one of them and happily pulled Jilan away to introduce her to the place.
At this time, the moon hung high, looking like an orange-yellow jade plate with a small bite taken out of it by a celestial dog. It remained very bright, making the surrounding stars look dim by comparison.
Sang Ruo and Rong Ji stood under a tree, watching Jilan being dragged into the inner rooms by Lan Nineteen.
Jilan was shy and had just experienced a great tragedy, so she was often quiet and found it hard to let her guard down. Lan Nineteen was different—born carefree and a bit of a chatterbox.
“I think they will get along well,” Rong Ji said with a smile.
Sang Ruo crouched under the tree, looking up at her. “Are you in a bad mood?”
The smile on Rong Ji’s face gradually faded.
A cool night breeze blew. Rong Ji raised her hand to catch a leaf falling from the tree. “When I was young, Mei Si told me I was different from everyone else.”
Sang Ruo knew Rong Ji was trying to voice the things she had kept bottled up. Rong Ji had few people to talk to; the other attendants were Mei Si’s spies, and Lan Nineteen, while trustworthy, was too innocent to understand such burdens. But if those thoughts stay in the heart too long, they rot and become a scar that never fades.
So, Sang Ruo listened quietly. She could not participate in Rong Ji’s past; all she could do was listen.
Rong Ji said self-mockingly, “For a long time, I believed I was special. I even picked up some arrogant habits, playing pranks and teasing people for my own amusement. None of the attendants dared to say a word; they just endured it. Mei Si let me do as I pleased, so I thought it was no big deal.”
“I didn’t know you were such a little troublemaker,” Sang Ruo tried to imagine it, thinking her dear friend must have been quite cute.
Rong Ji smiled faintly, idly playing with the fallen leaf. “Yes, I thought it was a way to show affection. Until one day, the old attendant who served me fell ill, and Mei Si sent a new one to care for my daily needs. You can probably guess that was my friend who died young. Her number was Nine, from the Lan section. I called her Lan Jiu.”
“She was the one who told me that such behavior only causes trouble for others.”
Rong Ji’s pale pupils reflected the night sky. “You know, she was the first person to ever speak to me that way. Without her, I might have become someone like the Young City Lord.”
Sang Ruo interrupted her: “You would not.”
Rong Ji smiled, sincerely this time. “Thank you for having such confidence in me.”
Sang Ruo turned her head away.
“What happened next?”
“Next…”
Mei Si had showered the young Rong Ji with a great deal of “favor.” She could do anything she pleased within the Divine Court without consequence. Yet, in reality, she received very little, because the only thing she was allowed to see was the sky above the Divine Court.
And how large could that truly be?
“Lan Jiu was chosen to look after me because she was considered intelligent and steady. But later, I realized that deep down, she possessed a streak of rebellion and defiance.”
Lan Jiu loved beauty. She enjoyed buying rouge and kept her mask meticulously maintained. She would tuck one or two plain orchids behind her mask or in her hair. She was diligent and detail-oriented, arranging everything perfectly. She also had a fondness for wine.
The existence of a Divine Attendant usually required them to erase their original personality and sharp edges, serving the gods with total devotion. Lan Jiu was undoubtedly an outlier.
Because of this, Lan Jiu would do things that previous attendants never dared to do.
She would teach Rong Ji about empathy and putting oneself in another’s shoes. She told Rong Ji that, in certain ways, she and the people around her were equals.
One night, she even secretly took Rong Ji out to attend a minor festival.
That was the first time Rong Ji had ever gone outside. She discovered what the world was truly like. She realized that the “responsibility of the High Priest” and “the citizens you must protect,” so often mentioned by others, were such concrete and heavy concepts.
Rong Ji was seven years old that year.
However, an accident occurred during that excursion. She became separated from Lan Jiu. The Divine Court was eventually alerted, and Mei Si personally issued an order to send people to search for them in secret.
When Rong Ji was found, she had been taken in by a kind citizen and was waiting for Lan Jiu to return for her. She never expected that what she would wait for was Mei Si’s furious face.
Mei Si was an old woman who loved to maintain a stern expression, but because she had never really restricted Rong Ji before, Rong Ji had not been very afraid of her.
Until that moment.
Rong Ji did not receive any punishment, because all the punishment was borne by Lan Jiu. Mei Si said: “A master cannot make a mistake. If there is a mistake, it must be because the servant instigated it. Do you understand?”
Rong Ji nodded while crying.
Although she eventually pleaded to prevent Lan Jiu from losing her status as a close attendant, Lan Jiu was so badly injured that she could not leave her bed for several months.
After Lan Jiu recovered, she held no grudge. She played with Rong Ji just as before and continued to teach her things.
But Rong Ji knew something had changed. She herself had changed.
She began to question whether everything Granny Mei Si said was correct. Going out had clearly been a good thing; she had learned so much, yet Granny said she had committed a grave error. Granny said she was the most noble person in the Divine Court, yet she could not even exempt her closest companion from punishment.
At that time, she could not figure it out.
Then, when she was ten, another incident occurred.
Lan Jiu went out to make some purchases. When she returned, she seemed like a completely different person. She stopped talking and rarely smiled; she was often absent-minded.
Rong Ji asked her sister what was wrong, but Lan Jiu did not answer. She only gently stroked Rong Ji’s head in silence.
After a while, Lan Jiu vanished from her side without a sound, replaced by other attendants. A sudden sense of panic gripped Rong Ji, and she ran to ask Granny Mei Si.
Mei Si sneered: “Her? She hung a length of white silk from a tree and died!”
Rong Ji’s head buzzed. What did it mean to be dead? A perfectly healthy person who was braiding her hair just a few days ago, how could she be “dead”?
When she pressed for more answers, Granny Mei Si only said things like “she brought it on herself” and “someone so out of line was bound to have an accident sooner or later.” Rong Ji did not want to hear it and ran away.
Divine Attendants would gossip during their idle time, and thus Rong Ji was able to piece together the truth.
During that shopping trip, Lan Jiu had somehow offended the Young City Lord. She lost the chastity required to serve the gods. Later, whether it was a sudden loss of the will to live or some other reason, she hanged herself outside the Divine Court.
“Fortunately,” she was discovered early, so outsiders did not see. Mei Si suppressed the matter and handled it secretly. Rong Ji did not even get to see her one last time.
She heard that Lan Jiu was still wearing her mask when she died, but there were no longer any of the little flowers she loved beside it. All the masks in the Lan section were standardized; every attendant looked exactly the same.
It was as if Lan Jiu had died a plain, quiet death as a person with no name and no face.
Rong Ji thought to herself: I must remember her.