Qian Luo retreated to the archive room, heart pounding. She paced a few circles before the lingering sense of danger drove her to peek into the hallway. Seeing that Zhang Youwei was long gone, she finally let out a massive breath and locked the door tight.
She had crossed paths with the Zhang family years ago. Back then, she had witnessed an old woman leading a fair-skinned, delicate little girl in a pursuit of a ghost. As fate would have it, they were chasing the exact same spirit Qian Luo was after.
Though she called her an “old woman,” the woman was actually barely in her early twenties; her expression was so severe and her speech so rigid and pedantic that she seemed older than an octogenarian. And the little girl following her, dressed in a pristine white dress and clutching a sword inlaid with gold and jade, had eyes so bright they practically sparkled. Unfortunately, her face was just as stony as the “old woman’s.”
The two families chased the ghost until the Zhang girl threw out a net to pin it in place. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she drew her sword and lunged—not at the ghost, but at her fellow tamer. Qian Luo’s master had scrambled to counter, and the two adults devolved into a full-blown duel over the prize.
Qian Luo had just stood there, biting her nails.
Looking back, that cold little face was undoubtedly a younger Zhang Youwei.
While the adults fought with real steel, Qian Luo watched from the sidelines—until Zhang Youwei suddenly drew her sword and lunged straight for Qian Luo’s throat, thumping the blade against her neck.
The sword hadn’t been sharpened yet.
Stung by the blow, Qian Luo glared at her, only for Zhang Youwei to swing again, hitting her square on the head. That did it. Qian Luo was genuinely angry.
Qian Luo had grown up among rowdy kids, emboldened by a beautiful, doting Senior Sister and her constant bickering matches with the divine cat Ye. She was a natural-born brat. Faced with this “serious” attack, she didn’t draw a weapon; she just scowled at the haughty little brat in front of her.
Zhang Youwei held her sword in a defensive stance. Qian Luo stepped forward. Youwei swung, but because the Zhang family’s education was so rigid, she was merely following set patterns. Without real combat experience, her moves were predictable.
Qian Luo caught the blunt blade with her bare hand and yanked it away.
Weaponless and wide-eyed, Zhang Youwei stumbled back.
Qian Luo put her hands on her hips and yelled, “How could you hit me!”
Zhang Youwei said nothing.
“That’s wrong!” Qian Luo added.
Still silence.
Qian Luo was a notorious “problem child,” well-versed in brawling and trash-talking. She wasn’t about to be intimidated by a pretty little porcelain doll.
The “Brat King” Qian Luo closed the distance, reached out, and pinched Zhang Youwei’s underdeveloped nipple, giving it a sharp twist. “You hit me again, and I’ll twist both!”
Zhang Youwei was stunned. She clutched her chest, stumbled back, and fell to the ground, staring at Qian Luo in total shock. Her face turned crimson down to her neck. She bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, taking a long time to process that the girl in front of her had just done something so… utterly lewd with a completely straight face.
Qian Luo handed the sword back. “Here. Let’s stop fighting.”
Zhang Youwei flinched before taking the sword, then immediately scrambled up and swung it with a vengeance.
Terrified, Qian Luo turned tail and ran. Zhang Youwei chased her with the sword, the two children running circles around the adults who were actually fighting with real weapons. As she ran, Qian Luo taunted: “Little Stupid Zhang got her nipple pinched! Little Stupid Zhang got her nipple pinched!”
Zhang Youwei was fuming, her grip on the sword tightening as she chased Qian Luo with murderous intent.
Nearly out of breath, Qian Luo panted, “Hey, we’re both girls! A little pinch won’t make you lose a chunk of meat!”
…
Recalling this, Qian Luo silently squatted in the corner of the archive room and covered her head in shame.
What a disaster.
The little girl she had bullied was now a top-tier tamer, working the same case, and had just “helped” her out of the kindness of her heart.
Zhang Youwei was the star of the Zhang family, which specialized in offensive combat and slaying. Qian Luo’s sect focused on spirit-invoking. If it came to a head-on fight without a summoned deity, Qian Luo would be insta-killed by Zhang Youwei.
Qian Luo knelt before the small shrine in the archive room and whispered a prayer: Please let Zhang Youwei have a bad memory. Please don’t let her remember that day.
…
Prayer finished, she returned to the files. She found the latest interview feature on the Film Queen, Lin Wanchen. In the photos, she wore a simple white linen dress, her eyes red and swollen like peaches—looking utterly heart-wrenching for the cameras.
Qian Luo stared at the dress. It looked familiar. She paced the room until she reached a rack of fashion week magazines. She pulled one out and flipped through it.
Her eyes caught a specific page: A white linen dress, Chinese-style, elegant and quiet.
It was a limited edition piece with an astronomical price tag. Pre-orders had started the day after Zhou Xiaoming died. A global limited edition like this wasn’t something you just picked up at a mall.
And here was Lin Wanchen, whose daughter had just died, wearing the latest high-fashion drop?
How heartless did she have to be to go luxury shopping while her home was in mourning?
Qian Luo felt a red flag. Maybe it was a gift, maybe her team bought it… but her gut told her something was wrong. Did Yin Tong send her here for this reason?
She dialed Yin Tong. “Miss Yin, where can I meet Zhou Xiaoming’s mother?”
“I’ll arrange it,” Yin Tong replied. “Go to the outdoor film set this Wednesday. Lin Wanchen has taken a role in a movie. You can go as a staff member. It’s the same crew that was filming Zhou Xiaoming’s final movie.”
Qian Luo was stunned. “She’s filming a movie right after her daughter’s death?”
Yin Tong let out a soft, mocking scoff. “Miss Qian might not understand the industry. Lin Wanchen may be a Film Queen, but she’s fading. What movies can an aging actress get? Zhou Xiaoming’s death created a massive surge in popularity. If she doesn’t exploit that heat while it lasts, it would be a ‘waste’.”
Qian Luo felt a chill in her heart. After hanging up, she decided to head to the back building to see what Zhang Youwei had uncovered. If she lost to the Zhang family on this case, she’d never live it down.
As she walked, many employees stared. Despite the weekend, the company was busy. Qian Luo had a final file to return. She reached the desk where she’d swiped it, but as she went to set it down, a cold voice rang out behind her:
“What are you doing with my personal files?”
A cold sweat broke out on Qian Luo’s back. It was that female secretary again.
Qian Luo flicked her wrist, tossing the file back onto the desk with perfect accuracy. She turned with a smile. “Miss Yin asked me to grab some things. I’m just returning it. Thanks.”
The secretary narrowed her eyes. “You? Based on what?”
“I’m a data entry clerk,” Qian Luo lied smoothly. “Of course I handle files.”
The secretary inspected the documents. “These are my personal belongings. The company has no right to touch them.”
Qian Luo shrugged. “When personal things are mixed with company files, it’s easy to grab them by mistake. Sorry about that.”
Suspicion grew in the secretary’s eyes. She grabbed Qian Luo’s wrist. “I knew you were a spy. Now you’re stealing from me. You’re coming with me to the supervisor!”
“Can I just call Yin Tong?” Qian Luo asked, wincing.
The secretary yanked her. “You’re coming with me!”
Qian Luo could only laugh awkwardly as she was dragged along. “Okay, okay, beautiful, I’ll go with you! Just gently… gently…”
The secretary glared back. “You—!”
Qian Luo shut up, gesturing for her to let go because it hurt. She made an exaggerated face of pain.
“Don’t you get cheeky with me!” the secretary hissed. “I knew you were no good the moment I saw you! Let’s go—”
She yanked Qian Luo again, but suddenly, someone caught the secretary’s wrist.
The newcomer’s grip was immense. With effortless strength, they pried the secretary’s hand off Qian Luo.
A bone-chilling voice echoed through the hallway:
“Didn’t you hear her say it hurts?”
…
Zhang Youwei has appeared! She just defended Qian Luo, but her eyes are fixed on the secretary. Is she protecting her ‘destined’ friend, or has she noticed something ‘unclean’ about the secretary herself?