Little Pink Starfish

Li Zixin’s tone carried a hint of reassurance, as if he were trying to ease the nerves of Hua Rongyue, who was visiting for the first time. In truth, Hua Rongyue herself wasn’t sure why he chose to walk alongside her — maybe he had seen a similar quality in her, or maybe, as fellow assassins, he felt a certain emotional connection to the name “Yi Linglong.”

She and the others entered a relatively large house. Although they were officially in legitimate professions now, their identities were still sensitive and couldn’t be openly revealed, making the training sessions at the Six Doors agency sometimes resemble clandestine meetings of underground revolutionaries.

Hua Rongyue sat with Li Zixin, and soon others came over to chat with her. She recalled that at this moment, Li Zixin had just been “recruited” and still had quite a reputation, so naturally, with her sitting beside him, Hua Rongyue drew attention too.

Most people, upon hearing her name “Yi Linglong,” were visibly shocked. Li Zixin leaned in and whispered to her, “See? They don’t believe it either…”

“Hua Rongyue?” A woman called out from a nearby room. Hua Rongyue gave Li Zixin an apologetic smile and followed the woman into the room.

The room was simply furnished with three chairs and an Eight Immortals table. After Hua Rongyue entered, a man inside gestured for her to sit down. She sat while wondering why they had singled her out — was it to tell her something that others couldn’t hear?

“Although this is technically the first time I’m meeting you,” said the older woman sitting across from her — despite her age, she still retained traces of her former beauty. Years of being in a high position gave her a commanding presence. She was dressed entirely in white and said, “I was at Zui Ju Pavilion last time as well. You did well that day.”

“Thank you…” Hua Rongyue replied, her ears flushing red involuntarily.

“Although this is my first time seeing you up close, you’re quite different from what I imagined.” The woman sipped her tea, and Hua Rongyue remained silent, still uncertain why they had summoned her.

“When I first saw you, I almost thought I’d mistaken you for someone else,” the woman continued slowly. “It’s hard to believe you were the person at Zui Ju Pavilion that day.”

Hua Rongyue kept her head humbly lowered.

At times like these, there was no point in explaining — humility was the safest approach. After all, ancient people weren’t fans of self-praise.

“I watched the entire event unfold that day,” the woman said, “and you were quite different from all our expectations.”

Hua Rongyue blinked in confusion — what did she mean?

“We imagined Yi Linglong to be stranger, more ruthless, and more feminine,” the woman elaborated.

Immediately, an image flashed through Hua Rongyue’s mind — the real Yi Linglong from her previous life: strange, vicious, and distinctly feminine.

It was a chilling realization. It seemed that what the woman described matched Yi Linglong perfectly.

Hua Rongyue had no trouble imagining the type — she only had to recall Yi Linglong herself.

“We originally hoped you would embody those traits,” the woman continued. “But your performance at Zui Ju Pavilion was a bit unexpected. Let me ask — did you fully understand the requirements before?”

Hua Rongyue cautiously responded, “But after the last time, it seems the effect wasn’t too bad either. Many in the jianghu now believe Yi Linglong has gone mad. Even if I infiltrate groups of deranged individuals, they wouldn’t suspect me easily…”

“But that wasn’t the original plan,” the man beside her interjected.

Plan? What plan?

Hua Rongyue felt increasingly uneasy. Was there really some grand plan she hadn’t known about?

The woman spoke softly, “Your performance was excellent last time. However, for this next task, you’ll need to make a change.” She looked down at her teacup and added, “This time, you’ll need to dress fully as a woman. Can you accept that?”

Hua Rongyue thought for just a second before nodding.

She quickly exited the room. Li Zixin was waiting outside and noticed her off mood immediately, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Hua Rongyue instantly realized her expression had betrayed her and hurried to adjust it. Showing attitude toward Six Doors’ people was a death wish.

So they had summoned her just to scold her for deviating from the last mission?

Objectively, last time she had improvised a little after seeing a dismal “Yi Linglong” similar to her previous life’s memories. But this time, Six Doors wouldn’t allow her to stray from their script.

Moreover, when that woman had asked whether anyone at Six Doors had given her detailed instructions, Hua Rongyue had to admit — they hadn’t. She was practically a backdoor entry, with Yan Sheng being the only person she slightly knew. Who could have briefed her properly?

Li Zixin sensed something was off but didn’t press when she remained silent. In the next phase, she joined a group entering a different house. Some went in pairs, some alone. After about an hour, everything wrapped up.

Afterward, at her lodging at Baicao Hall, she told Li Zixin her address. Li mentioned he lived nearby, by a riverbank where floating lanterns adorned the waters at night — a beautiful sight he recommended she visit sometime.

After exchanging goodbyes, Hua Rongyue left, now counting Li Zixin as a friend. One more friend, one more path. Especially a Six Doors friend. After all, one reason Yi Linglong died so tragically before was her poor network. Though Hua Rongyue wasn’t fond of socializing, making a few allies was undoubtedly wise.

Still, her mood was heavy. Back at Baicao Hall, she listlessly fiddled with herbs. Outwardly, she seemed normal, but except for Xiao Han (who was oblivious), both Doctor Qi and Wan Fuli noticed her low spirits.

As a result, that evening, she was served crab.

Staring at the plate of crab, Hua Rongyue suddenly felt a warmth in her chest and quietly began eating… before realizing she had devoured half the platter.

Practitioners of martial arts did have big appetites — and Hua Rongyue was even trying to eat modestly. Xiao Han grumbled from the side, “Why does she get to eat alone?”

Wan Fuli elbowed him into silence. Hua Rongyue pretended not to hear, magnanimously leaving a few crabs for him.

Later that night, while others were asleep, Hua Rongyue stayed up, diligently stretching and training her body in the main hall. Doctor Qi walked by and, seeing her awake, asked, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I have something to do tonight,” she answered.

Doctor Qi didn’t press and just said, “There’s still some pastries Little Lotus bought this morning in the kitchen. Eat if you get hungry.”

After a pause, Hua Rongyue thanked him quietly.

She had no idea when her fondness for pastries had become such an open secret.

She resumed her training — nothing glamorous, just repeatedly practicing a single knife movement, over and over for hours.

If anyone were watching, they might think she was stuck in a repetitive glitch, but Hua Rongyue persisted. By dawn, her movements looked nearly identical to how they had been at the start — but inside, she felt a subtle smoothness, like oiling a creaky machine.

If adapting to Yi Linglong’s body meant learning to operate this “machine,” then Hua Rongyue knew she still had a long way to go. Yi Linglong had been at her peak during madness, a state the rational and restrained Hua Rongyue could never fully emulate. She could only hope for occasional bursts of brilliance, fleeting moments before regrounding herself.

Besides, she hadn’t even crossed into Yi Linglong’s true prime yet when she reincarnated.

Hua Rongyue knew very well — right now, she was venting her frustrations through sheer effort. If nothing else, she could use this motivation to sharpen herself. Rage alone was useless; strength was what mattered.

She believed her greatest strength was knowing when to rage and when to work — even when upset, she still ate heartily.

The next day, Hua Rongyue met Jiang Lianhuan. She wondered if he would accompany her on the next mission, since she hadn’t seen him at the gathering.

“Do you have any good rouge or makeup?” Hua Rongyue asked, trying to sound casual. She didn’t want to seem weak in front of him.

“…Why do you need that?” Jiang Lianhuan paused briefly, surprised at the odd question.

Hua Rongyue brushed it off vaguely, but Jiang Lianhuan seemed to immediately grasp the whole situation.

His face remained calm. “Actually, this was the Six Doors’ plan all along. They didn’t want Yi Linglong’s reputation to grow any further. After the Zui Ju Pavilion incident, Yi Linglong’s fame rose higher than expected, which wasn’t what Six Doors wanted. They already disliked her — and they fear unusual madmen even more. Familiar madness they can handle; unfamiliar madness unsettles them.”

“So you’re telling me to just accept it?” Hua Rongyue asked.

“No, I’m telling you to understand something,” Jiang Lianhuan said calmly. “The one who brought you into Six Doors is a very powerful person. He was very pleased with your last performance. But he also has many enemies, and there are plenty of people who would love to sabotage his protégés.”

Hua Rongyue widened her eyes in shock.

“And the reason they dared come after you,” Jiang Lianhuan added, “is because you’re still too weak. If your reputation in the jianghu were stronger, they might not have dared.”

Standing up, Jiang Lianhuan continued, “As for rouge — I do have some. You can’t find it in the marketplace.”

Hua Rongyue watched him, marveling at his brilliance.

…To have such a twisted, calculating mind yet still appear so normal — that too was a talent.