Little Pink Starfish

Orphan

“Which sect were you from before?”

“None.”

“Where’s your family from?”

“My ancestral home is beyond the border.”

Hua Rongyue had paid a heavy price for a moment of impulsiveness.

Now, she sat properly in front of Yan Sheng, honestly explaining her background.

— Of course, Yan Sheng wasn’t interrogating a criminal right now. He wasn’t even in his official robes, probably just happened to pass by Baicaotang and, upon hearing the commotion, came in to check. It just so happened that he saw the whole scene.

At the moment, he was quietly sipping tea, without any intention of scolding her. Doctor Qi and Wan Fulián had already explained what happened in hushed tones. The body was still on the floor behind the counter, the ground littered with dust and wood shards — everything was crystal clear. No matter how you spun it, this incident couldn’t be pinned on Hua Rongyue. If anything, Xiao Han was more at fault.

Xiao Han had been crouching in the corner at first, but once Wan Fulián kept signaling at him, he slipped away.

You can’t just detain Hua Rongyue just because she knows martial arts.

Why? Because on her very first day, Hua Rongyue had already made it clear.

— “I’ve roamed the Jianghu for a while in the past.”

Everyone at the clinic knew this, and Doctor Qi had just told Yan Sheng as well. Hua Rongyue had always been frank, never once trying to hide it. Incidentally, Doctor Qi used to chuckle whenever he mentioned this; now, his expression was… somewhat hard to describe.

Still, if Hua Rongyue said the wrong thing now, the calm tea-sipping Yan Sheng wouldn’t stay this mild.

This wasn’t someone easily fooled — after all, it was his job to see through lies as easily as drinking water. Hua Rongyue wasn’t foolish enough to try lying in front of someone destined to become the head of the Six Gates. That would only raise suspicion.

But Hua Rongyue still had some wiggle room to play with — she wasn’t truly Yi Linglong, after all. Before she crossed over, she was just an ordinary civil servant.

So she blended the stories of two identities, picking whichever version suited the moment.

Since both were technically true, she spoke with more confidence. For the first time in her life, she found herself lying so smoothly.

Despite that, she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy inside. Still, Hua Rongyue forced herself to remain calm.

Yan Sheng kept his head down, silently drinking his tea, face expressionless. Hua Rongyue couldn’t tell if he believed her or not. At least he hadn’t reacted strongly or detained her — so far, so good.

“Didn’t you say before that you weren’t interested in the Jianghu?” Yan Sheng asked.

“I did,” Hua Rongyue replied.

“That’s rare.” Yan Sheng set down his cup. “With your skills, you could have made a name for yourself out there. Why come back to such a small place?”

He was probing her background. A question like this, if answered carelessly, could lead to trouble — clearly a trap disguised as casual conversation.

Hua Rongyue looked down at the table, pausing for a second.

She didn’t say anything poetic about striving to live or how dangerous the Jianghu was. Instead, she gave a vague, almost dismissive answer: “I got tired. Wanted to rest for a while.”

At those words, whatever Yan Sheng was about to say next died in his throat.

He looked at her, and the ever-serious expression on his face softened into something a bit wistful. Who knows what he imagined about the downcast Hua Rongyue — he too lowered his gaze and quietly took another sip of tea.

The Jianghu was full of constant comings and goings, each for their own reasons. Among the many excuses to leave, “tired” was a common one — and one that left people speechless.

In fact, it was perhaps the most common reason given by skilled martial artists who vanished from the scene.

While Hua Rongyue and Yan Sheng were engaged in this subtle battle of wits, Doctor Qi and Wan Fulián were quietly cleaning up the smashed counter and whispering to each other.

“What do you think Hua Rongyue’s real background is?” Despite her having been around for two months, they still felt like they barely knew her.

“How should I know? I don’t know martial arts.”

“Don’t you always read those martial arts novels? Use them as a reference.”

“Me? I read books, I’m not actually a heroine,” Wan Fulián replied, a bit exasperated.

Still, she glanced over at Hua Rongyue and whispered to Doctor Qi, “I think Rongyue might be someone important. Remember what we thought when she first arrived?”

“What did we think?”

Doctor Qi blinked, then suddenly recalled the private assessment they’d made of her.

Back then, before Hua Rongyue had proven herself reliable, they often gossiped about her. It was Doctor Qi who first suggested she might be a runaway from a wealthy family. As a doctor who’d visited many elite households, he had a keen eye — and Hua Rongyue just had that air about her.

But as she turned out to be so capable — more dependable than either of them — he’d kind of forgotten all about that theory.

Now that Wan Fulián brought it up, it returned to him vividly.

“Hey, you know…” Doctor Qi suddenly had a bold thought. His expression turned strange, and Wan Fulián felt a bit uneasy seeing it. “Master, what are you thinking?”

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in and whispered, “What if… she’s the child of a martial arts aristocratic family?”

Wan Fulián gasped softly — then her expression turned to sudden realization.

“Martial arts aristocratic family” — a vague but familiar term. Like the classic template: ‘XX Manor’. If someone introduced themselves in that format, you could usually assume their origin. The more prestigious the ‘XX’, the higher their status.

If it was something poetic like “Clear Wind” or “Willow Grove”, probably just a minor family. But if it was “Ten Thousand Plum Blossoms”, people might kneel; if it was “Wuzheng”, they’d run.

If it was “Hidden Sword Manor”, you’d best buy a husky for protection.

This kind of life-saving Jianghu trivia was learned little by little.

Of course, there’s a gulf between ordinary people and martial artists. The things martial artists instinctively knew were far removed from the average person’s world. Doctor Qi racked his brain but couldn’t place Hua Rongyue to any particular manor — honestly, he probably didn’t know enough to recognize them even if he did.

Wan Fulián knew a bit more — from books. But asking her to present these as real facts in front of two clear insiders? She’d feel embarrassed.

Graceful, poised, and elegant — from manner alone, Hua Rongyue did fit the mold. The more they thought about it, the more they felt their guess might be close to the truth. Even if she came from the martial arts world, she was clearly of noble origin.

Suddenly, both of them looked at Hua Rongyue with renewed awe.

But in the end, it was still just speculation. Meanwhile, Hua Rongyue and Yan Sheng’s conversation had taken another turn.

“Do you have any friends?”

Hua Rongyue considered Yi Linglong’s relationships and replied truthfully, “I do. But not many.”

“What about family?”

Doctor Qi and Wan Fulián perked up instantly. They had just been discussing this and now, they were all ears, waiting to see if she really was the child of a martial arts family.

— A martial arts aristocrat! Way cooler than just an ordinary noble’s kid.

Hua Rongyue was speechless. She could clearly see Doctor Qi and Wan Fulián whispering and muttering earlier, probably thinking no one noticed. But she could bet Yan Sheng had heard every word — hence this line of questioning.

She noticed clearly: the moment Doctor Qi said “martial arts family,” Yan Sheng’s brow had lifted slightly, and his gaze toward her sharpened.

Was he really buying this theory?

“You’re quite knowledgeable in calligraphy and painting, right?” Yan Sheng asked.

Hua Rongyue instantly caught his train of thought. Doctor Qi and Wan Fulián didn’t know much about the martial arts world — but Yan Sheng was different.

He must have been running through the list of known martial families in his mind, comparing age, identity, looks, and skill… and landed on one guess:

— Ji Mingyu, heir of Lingyu Manor.

Ji Mingyu had disappeared about a year ago. Before that, he had been renowned for his knowledge, skills, and appearance — one of the best among his peers. Lingyu Manor was famous for their mastery of blade techniques, and everyone knew they loved calligraphy and painting.

But Hua Rongyue knew the truth — Ji Mingyu was dead. Someone had paid a high price to the Tianyi Tower for his head. By the time Hua Rongyue found out, it was too late to save him.

But not long after, the assassin who killed him was killed by Ji Mingyu’s enemies. That’s how the Jianghu works — an endless cycle of vengeance.

She looked at the cup in her hands. It was warm.

Ji Mingyu… That was actually a great identity to assume.

Age matched, appearance matched, and not many people had met him. Lingyu Manor now only had an aging master left, who rarely left home. They were far from here, and the assassin who killed him was dead — no one here would recognize him.

Yan Sheng studied her for a moment. She had a rare calm, composed, and noble air — some people could wear the finest clothes and still look fake, but not Hua Rongyue.

Thanks to Yi Linglong’s tall stature and dignified features, sometimes all she had to do was stand still to project command. That kind of presence was rare, so he concluded she came from a noble background.

Someone like that — if she were a young lord from an aristocratic family — it wouldn’t be strange at all.

But then, Hua Rongyue smiled and said, “I know what you’re thinking. But I’m an orphan — abandoned at birth.”

Yan Sheng blinked, surprised. Even Doctor Qi and Wan Fulián were taken aback behind him.

Yet based on his own experience, Yan Sheng could sense she wasn’t lying. That surprised him. Still, out of respect, he didn’t show it.

Hua Rongyue seemed calm. But Yan Sheng couldn’t help but wonder.

Not about her identity — but something else entirely.

This world was strange. He’d seen so many children of the powerful who amounted to nothing, yet here was someone with poise and nobility — who was supposedly abandoned as a baby.

— Some things, like natural grace… truly couldn’t be taught.