Little Pink Starfish

Trouble

The day Hua Rongyue officially joined Six Gates was the start of her third month at the Hundred Herbs Clinic.

She had imagined herself wearing the black uniform like Yan Sheng, patrolling the streets with an official sword, even picturing what she’d look like in the uniform. But Yan Sheng simply told her—no need to wear it.

Then what should she wear?

She thought she’d at least have to report to the constables’ office, meet the local officers or something. But again, Yan Sheng said—no need.

—No uniform, no reporting to the bureau. Hua Rongyue was now thoroughly confused about what she was supposed to do.

She continued helping Doctor Qi with decoctions and writing medical notes at the clinic—exactly as she had the previous three months, nothing changed.

“Lord Yan… didn’t lie to me, did he?” she finally blurted out one day during lunch.

“If he lied, how come you already got your first month’s wages?” Doctor Qi replied. “Silver, cold and hard—you can’t fake that.”

“If he did lie,” Wan Fulan laughed, “then you could just laze around all day and still get paid.”

“No, no.” Hua Rongyue shook her head. “It’s not that I want to laze around… I just want to know what exactly I’m supposed to do now that I’ve joined Six Gates. I’m feeling a bit directionless.”

There was still no sign of Lin Qiya. Even though Hua Rongyue had continued her patrols, she hadn’t found a single trace of her. Nor had she seen wanted posters plastered all over the city with arrows pointing and a caption saying “This woman is insane.”

That recurring image from her dreams—Lin Qiya’s face everywhere, labeled a lunatic—had yet to come true. It was as if Lin Qiya had dissolved into the air, disappearing completely.

Hua Rongyue couldn’t tell whether Lin Qiya had been gravely injured… or was dead. Otherwise, how could there be no news at all?

But she knew she couldn’t relax just because of that. She had to stay prepared.

—On the fifth day of waiting, Yan Sheng finally came looking for her. Even Hua Rongyue felt a little excited inside.

“Lord Yan, when should I report in?” she asked.

Yan Sheng looked exhausted. “Been busy these past few days, sorry. We were planning to form a special team, but something unexpected happened…”

“Unexpected?” Hua Rongyue asked.

“Someone died,” he said bluntly. “He was going to be an important part of the group. His death disrupted a lot of plans, and it’s been a mess ever since.”

He glanced at her. “But it’s fine. Get ready—I’ll take you to meet the others tonight.”

“Tonight?” Hua Rongyue asked. “At night?”

“Yeah. You’ll likely be heading out at night more often going forward,” Yan Sheng said. “Better get used to it.”

Hua Rongyue went to prepare. Yan Sheng stayed outside drinking tea, his weariness visible—it looked like he was utterly drained.

She wondered what could be wearing him out this badly. Had they found clues about Lin Qiya? Yi Linglong had never seen what Yan Sheng looked like when handling a case, and she hadn’t expected Six Gates work to be this intense.

“Honestly, Rongyue, I’m worried about you,” Yan Sheng suddenly said. “You’re a serious, kind person.”

Hua Rongyue paused in her tracks. He continued, “If you ever feel unwell, let me know right away. And if you ever want to back out, that’s okay too.”

…

The moon was high.

Hua Rongyue followed Yan Sheng into a large, winding estate. There weren’t many lights inside, and as they walked through the shadowy halls, the place felt eerily like the setting of a ghost movie.

She simply followed Yan Sheng, seeing no one else along the way.

Finally, they reached a room at the deepest part of the estate—dimly lit, but clearly occupied.

“Come in,” Yan Sheng said, pushing open the door.

Hua Rongyue stepped in nervously. As soon as she registered the room’s layout, she heard Yan Sheng say, “This is the last person we’ve got.”

Only a single lamp lit the room, its glow faint. A man sat behind a curtain, his face obscured. Yan Sheng was speaking to him.

“Good-looking,” the man behind the curtain said. “Fits the requirements.”

“But I still don’t think he’s quite right,” Yan Sheng replied. “I’d rather have him take someone else’s spot, and pick a more suitable candidate for this one.”

“Huh? Why?” the man behind the curtain said. “He seems fine to me.”

Hua Rongyue tried to recall something—anything—in Yi Linglong’s memories that related to this scene, but came up empty.

Not a single detail.

Listening to the two of them talk, she felt completely lost. It was like they were negotiating over how to sell her off—for a good price, too.

“Since he’s already here, might as well give it a try,” said the man behind the curtain, sipping tea. “Put on the outfit over there.”

Hua Rongyue froze.

…Huh?

Huh?!

…Hold on a minute! She panicked. What is this? What kind of interview starts with a costume change?!

She followed the man’s gesture and saw a tall clothes rack with an oversized robe hanging on it. She’d noticed it when entering, assuming it was just decoration—like a fancy vase or a calligraphy scroll.

The robe was a deep amber hue, embroidered with fiery red maple leaves. It looked like flames licking through fabric, large and flowing.

—What is even happening here? This isn’t a normal job interview!

Yan Sheng had clearly noticed her growing nervousness, but with one glance at the man behind the curtain, it was obvious he outranked Yan Sheng. Yan Sheng subtly looked at her, then at the robe.

Hua Rongyue thought, Is that his way of telling me to just go with it?

She trusted Yan Sheng to a degree—he gave off a dependable vibe—so she reluctantly walked over to the rack and picked up the robe. The moment she held it, she felt even more confused, but since Yan Sheng said to “try,” she decided to just try.

The robe was a large outer layer; she didn’t need to remove her clothes underneath. She slipped it on—it reminded her of the ones she wore at Tianyi Tower, though those had always been black.

She tied the sash and turned around, hesitant.

“It’s the temperament,” Yan Sheng explained. “Looks aren’t enough. Since this requires infiltration, the vibe has to be right—otherwise, it could be dangerous.”

Hua Rongyue got the sense he was defending her, though she wasn’t sure why.

“You seem really nervous,” the man behind the curtain said, addressing Hua Rongyue directly. He smiled.

“…A bit,” she admitted.

“No need to be.”

The man continued to Yan Sheng, “I actually prefer obedient types like this. Won’t get themselves killed like the last one.”

Yan Sheng, unlike his easygoing self at the Hundred Herbs Clinic, now acted more like the Yan Sheng in Yi Linglong’s memories—silent and stern before superiors.

Hua Rongyue stood there awkwardly, feeling like a ghost—utterly ignored and almost invisible.

Then the man suddenly said, “Bring the medicine.”

A maid emerged from a shadowy corner—Hua Rongyue hadn’t noticed her at all before. She carried a tray.

On it was a small dish of red powder, a piece of white cloth, and a needle.

The moment Hua Rongyue saw it, a jolt shot through her.

A flood of images burst into her mind—

Yi Linglong alone by candlelight, driving a needle under his eye, over and over.

It lasted only a second, but left her utterly drained.

She knew this kit too well to pretend she didn’t know what it was for.

She almost thought she’d been exposed—but, true to her reserved nature, she didn’t lash out.

Everything she’d encountered since arriving had been weird. These two men evaluating her, the strange tone, the bizarre items—it all reeked of something uncanny.

“Give it a try,” the man behind the curtain said.

The maid dipped the needle in the red powder and pierced the corner of Hua Rongyue’s eye. She wanted to scream, to flee. But since Yan Sheng wasn’t reacting, she didn’t either.

The sharp sting made her close her eyes involuntarily.

“Open them.”

It was the voice behind the curtain.

She nervously opened her eyes—not realizing they now gleamed blood-red.

—As Master Wu once said, this chaotic rose-red suited her perfectly. A vivid contrast to her usual demeanor.

The atmosphere in the room froze for a second when she opened her eyes. Yan Sheng’s expression shifted.

She blinked, confused by his reaction.

“Woah…” murmured the man behind the curtain. “That really is… amazing. Totally different from when he walked in.”

Hua Rongyue was utterly baffled.

Could someone please explain what’s going on?!

Yan Sheng, uncharacteristically, fell silent. He stared into her eyes, and she looked back, lost.

The needle hadn’t pierced deeply. After a short while, her eye color faded and returned to black.

“She’ll do,” the man behind the curtain said. “He’ll adapt with time. Teach him what he needs to know. He’s smart. And talent like this—would be a shame to waste.”

After a pause, Yan Sheng finally replied, “…Yes.”

As they left, Hua Rongyue still had no clue what had just happened. She turned to ask Yan Sheng—but before she could, he suddenly said:

“You’re in trouble now.”

“…Huh? What trouble?”