Mei Jiu had originally planned to light the Sleep Incense in the evening after retrieving it, but she overlooked one thing: in the Mei household, such trivial tasks were always handled by the maids. Thus, she ended up drowsily falling asleep on the soft couch without ever touching the incense.
After Mei Jiu fell asleep, An Jiu attempted to move her body, finding it unusually heavy. Despite possessing greater mental strength than most, this body was no longer accustomed to sleep-inducing medicines like before.
An Jiu got up and stretched, feeling the heaviness lessen slightly, so she decided not to extinguish the Sleep Incense.
There was no harm in letting this body grow accustomed to sleep aids.
The human body has its limits, but mental strength is boundless. For instance, when a finger is severed, some might faint from the pain while others endure it silently—this is one manifestation of mental strength.
Similarly, when inhaling Sleep Incense, An Jiu’s mental strength allowed her to consciously command her body, whereas Mei Jiu, with weaker mental strength, succumbed to unconsciousness as her body temporarily shut down.
The fragrance curled through the air.
An Jiu picked up a book at random and sat on the couch to read.
As the incense ash in the burner piled up, An Jiu felt her body growing increasingly unresponsive. Fortunately, Sleep Incense was merely a mild sedative, with minimal medicinal potency. After a while, she could still barely control her movements.
As dusk fell, to prevent Mei Jiu from waking prematurely, An Jiu took another stick of Sleep Incense from the shelf, lit it, and placed it beneath the bed before lying down on the couch.
The door creaked open.
The room was unlit, and Yao Ye, seeing Mei Jiu still asleep in the dim light, called softly, “Young Mistress, it’s time to rise.”
“Mm,” An Jiu responded.
Yao Ye lit the lamp with a fire striker and adjusted the wick with a copper wire. “The Shadow Academy hasn’t sent word yet about when they’ll fetch you. I’ve had the kitchen prepare supper—would you like to dine first?”
“Alright,” An Jiu replied, softening her voice to mimic Mei Jiu’s delicate tone.
But as it turned out, her acting skills were sorely lacking.
Assassins came in many forms—those skilled in disguise and deception typically carried out close-quarters kills. However, An Jiu had a severe inclination toward violence; close combat often overstimulated her, risking a loss of mental control. Thus, her organization almost exclusively assigned her long-range assassination missions.
“Young Mistress, are you unwell?” Yao Ye set down the copper wire and approached the couch, studying her with concern.
An Jiu remained silent for a long moment before uttering a single word: “No.”
Yao Ye found this odd but didn’t press further. “I’ll have the meal served.”
An Jiu sat motionless on the edge of the couch, wondering how to handle it if Mei Yanran were to visit.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a maid’s voice sounded outside the door. “Greetings, Yan Niangzi.”
“At ease,” Mei Yanran replied coolly before stepping inside.
Pushing aside the inner room’s drapes, Mei Yanran saw a solitary figure bathed in lamplight. The slender silhouette appeared no different from usual, yet it inexplicably radiated an overwhelming loneliness, as though this person stood desolate and forsaken in all the world.
Mei Yanran’s heart clenched. “Jiu’er.”
The figure looked up, the lamplight flickering in calm eyes.
Mei Jiu had always revered Mei Yanran with the affection of a child for a beloved elder. But as Mei Yanran met her gaze, she was struck by something unfamiliar—within it lay traces of love, of guilt…
Yet when she looked again, it was merely an ordinary exchange of glances."Don't worry, the Shadow Academy is under Old Madam's control. This time you were chosen merely at Elder Zhi's request—you won't be treated like the others," Mei Yanran sat beside her. "I've already asked someone to look after you. There will be no danger, just go with courage."
"Mm," An Jiu responded.
Even the wisest person, when placing complete trust in someone, will inevitably overlook certain observations and thoughts.
Mei Yanran didn't dwell on An Jiu's reticence, attributing it to fear instead. So during their meal together, she broke the rule of "no talking while eating or sleeping" and offered many comforting words.
An Jiu didn't mind Mei Yanran's endless reminders. When she finished speaking, An Jiu actually replied earnestly, "I'll remember."
Mei Yanran was about to say more but suddenly stopped.
A black-clad, masked woman descended from the rafters. Mei Yanran glanced at her and stood up. "So it's you who came."
The woman nodded and looked at An Jiu. "Let's go."
"Don't be afraid, my child. She will take care of you," Mei Yanran said.
The black-clad woman frowned, unable to hold back. "I don't know what spell you're under, doting on her like this. You should know—in Plum Blossom Village, excessive love is akin to drowning someone."
"I know," Mei Yanran whispered, her voice barely audible.
An Jiu stood to leave but paused after a step, turning back to hug her.
Mei Yanran froze—another embrace like this.
Mei Jiu would throw herself into her arms and cry when wronged, but she wasn’t usually this affectionate. The last time "Mei Jiu" had hugged her like this, she had calmly and firmly said, "We'll be fine." These were small things, but now, thinking back, Mei Yanran found them somewhat unbelievable.
An Jiu followed the black-clad woman. Once they left Jade Serenity Residence, the faint ripples in her heart settled into calm.
The woman was skilled in qinggong. Even walking normally, her pace was swift. An Jiu, dragging a weak body still drowsy from sleep incense, struggled to keep up.
"I thought she'd spoiled you into a delicate flower," the woman suddenly slowed her steps, glancing back at An Jiu. "But you can endure hardship."
An Jiu remained silent.
Unbothered, the woman led her into a forest. They walked for a long time along winding paths before emerging.
The moon was dark, the wind high—a night fit for killing.
Ahead, the night was thick, but An Jiu's sharp eyes could make out rolling hills. Near the foot of the slope stood a carriage. The woman unceremoniously shoved An Jiu inside and left immediately.
The carriage was dim. An Jiu could vaguely discern four figures—likely the second branch's children.
Mei Rujian was still recovering from his injuries and couldn’t participate. Everyone else had arrived.
The carriage began moving. Mei Tingjun, Mei Tingyuan, and Mei Tingchun were excited, constantly peering outside like children exploring something mysterious.
"Sister, do you think they'll make us kill someone today?" Mei Tingyuan whispered to Mei Tingzhu beside her.
Mei Tingzhu chided softly, "Quiet. You'll find out when we arrive."
The two boys, Mei Tingjun and Mei Tingchun, said nothing but secretly swelled with pride. The Shadow Academy didn’t request participants every time—most had to volunteer and pass rigorous evaluations before being accepted.
In other words, those the Shadow Academy specifically asked for were the exceptional ones.Mei Tingyuan behaved for a while but soon couldn't restrain herself again. Catching a glimpse of An Jiu motionless by the carriage door, she thought to scare her a little. "Hey, Mei Shisi, you don't know what we're doing tonight, do you?"
An Jiu ignored this childish provocation.
From somewhere outside the carriage came a cold, eerie woman's voice: "Silence."
Mei Tingyuan pouted but didn't dare speak again.
The carriage, mysteriously constructed, moved smoothly without much jostling or noise, its gentle rocking inducing drowsiness. After an indeterminate time, it suddenly came to a halt.
The door opened, and a sharp, icy wind whistled in. Everyone except An Jiu shivered involuntarily.
"Out," ordered the voice outside.
Being closest to the door, An Jiu was the first to leap from the carriage, followed by the others one by one.
As soon as they landed, they began looking around.
"A graveyard!" Mei Tingyuan gasped under her breath.
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Given my recent abysmal update speed, I've decided to buckle down with my computer tomorrow—I refuse to believe I can't manage 6,000 words in a day. What's this procrastination nonsense? It's all self-indulgence. I deeply feel this aristocratic affliction is not for us common folk, damn it all.
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