Little Pink Starfish

Lately, Hua Rongyue’s demeanor had grown noticeably softer—perhaps from “raising a child.” She wasn’t just more gentle—she was practically radiating maternal energy…

She felt she had developed maternal instincts. But to Dr. Qi and the others, she looked more like a hardened drill instructor—forcing a child to practice swordplay until blisters formed, then still insisting she continue training day and night.

“If he tells you to practice again, will you just obey?” One day, when Hua Rongyue was returning from grocery shopping, she overheard Dr. Qi whispering to Li Jingyi, “Next time he makes you train, just do a little less. Who trains like that?”

As he spoke, he even sneakily stuffed a packet of sweets into Li Jingyi’s hands. Hua Rongyue narrowed her eyes. She had explicitly banned too many sweets—because her mother had done the same to her when she was young. She never expected this traitorous Dr. Qi to sneak in candy behind her back while spouting all that nonsense…

—Why did this feel like one of those stories where the soft-hearted parent sabotages the strict one?

After Dr. Qi left, Hua Rongyue silently stepped out from the shadows and held out her hand. Li Jingyi obediently surrendered the candy.

Hua Rongyue weighed the packet in her palm and suddenly realized—she’d become the “strict parent” every kid dreads.

—Why did everything feel reversed again?

…

Even though Hua Rongyue was entering full-on “mom mode,” the public perception of Yi Linglong continued spiraling into something increasingly chaotic. One day, while sitting in Baicao Hall, she overheard a patient gossiping about how “Yi Linglong” had recently been sleeping at a pleasure house every night.

—In the public imagination, Yi Linglong now selected the most famous courtesan every night, lavished her with silver, and spent the evening dressed in the finest robes and makeup.

He and the courtesans were so entwined, people could hardly tell who was who. Some travelers even mistook him for one of the entertainers…

At the time, Hua Rongyue was peeling potatoes for lunch. As she listened, she calmly fetched change from the money box and handed it to the patient with a smile: “Take care now.”

Truthfully, this turn of events was… kind of ideal.

Nowadays, when people brought up Yi Linglong, the first thing they commented on wasn’t how crazy or bloodthirsty he was—but how beautiful he looked. As the rumors of his beauty spread, they took on a life of their own, reaching levels Hua Rongyue hadn’t anticipated.

She sometimes worried she had taken things a little too far. In the Jianghu, everyone prioritized skill and strength—how fast, how deadly, how unshakeable. But her version? The first thing people cared about was his face.

Still, people who spent more time with Hua Rongyue would gradually see through this façade—and often find themselves surprised by her other side.

Hua Rongyue wasn’t the kind of person you’d call especially good-looking, yet she could perfectly reproduce this larger-than-life version of Yi Linglong.

It was as if she had peeled “Yi Linglong” out of the fog and given him form. Before her portrayal, most people’s idea of Yi Linglong had been vague—just a name. But she gave that name blood and bone.

And the “Yi Linglong” she portrayed was far from the traditional image of a cold-blooded killer. In fact, he was downright rebellious. But somehow… deeply memorable.

“I think we underestimated him,” said Yan Sheng, echoing what he’d said a few days ago. He was actively advocating for Hua Rongyue behind the scenes. “He’s absolutely a genius.”

“Have you found out his background?” came a voice from behind the curtain.

“Yes,” Yan Sheng replied. “Same as before—nothing suspicious. No parents, raised in a small sect, spent some time drifting in the Jianghu, then settled at Baicao Hall. If there’s anything worth noting, it’s that when he was eight, someone joined that sect and stayed for two years before dying. That man was likely Yi Shisan, who left Tianyi Tower a decade ago.”

“Yi Shisan?” the person behind the curtain sounded intrigued. “So it was him… and he died there?”

“Yes. That’s why I believe Hua Rongyue is likely Yi Shisan’s disciple,” Yan Sheng said.

Yi Shisan had been a legendary assassin in Tianyi Tower—his reputation even greater than Yi Linglong’s. But he had died after leaving the Tower without permission.

When someone traced a mysterious identity years ago, they stumbled across traces of Yi Shisan and discovered that he had briefly taken in some children. Sadly, he died not long after. Hua Rongyue had apparently tweaked some records and assumed his identity.

It all matched the Tianyi Tower style—cold, logical, effective. And this explanation fit like a glove. Hua Rongyue had slipped into it seamlessly.

“Does he know?” asked the voice.

Yan Sheng hesitated. “Probably not.”

“In that case… don’t tell him yet,” came the response. “I’ll consider the rest.”

…

The Jianghu had recently started to stir. Some sharp-eyed individuals might have noticed it already, though most could only go along with the flow. Perhaps it was just the right timing—but countless factions, large and small, were beginning to make moves in the dark. Whether in the world of martial arts or within the imperial court, a new generation was rising.

It was around this time that Hua Rongyue suddenly realized—the moment when Yi Linglong was supposed to meet Lin Qiya in the original timeline had already passed.

Which meant that in the original timeline, Yi Linglong would’ve already completed his blackening arc and started making moves to seize the leadership of Tianyi Tower. His reputation inside the Tower was shifting—“cold-blooded,” “ruthless.”

That was the natural progression. At this point, Yi Linglong should have already begun his transformation—from a talented rookie assassin into a once-in-a-lifetime prodigy. His unique martial style, crafted during this time, would’ve inspired countless imitators.

Young talents from every major sect had realized that this was an opportunity to break the old hierarchy. The instability of the Jianghu meant more chances for the young—and nearly every promising youth was trying to make a name for themselves.

Recently, Wu Wangyan from Huashan Sect went alone into a demon-cult-controlled village, fought his way in and out seven times, and rescued hundreds. He became an overnight sensation.

Fang Cunjian from Songshan Sect, a swordsman with an ethereal air, reminded older martial artists of their grandmasters. His white-robed elegance made him a dream figure for many girls.

Then there was Jiang Lianhuan, the refined and elegant noble son with real skill. A shocking rumor recently emerged that, according to the famed chronicler Bai Xiaosheng, Jiang Lianhuan might be the strongest among the current generation. Whether true or not, it caused quite a stir.

Others like Shen Qinglan and Li Zixin had also begun carving out their own legends in this ever-shifting world. Everyone was striving for a future place in the Jianghu.

And in the midst of all this… Hua Rongyue was dutifully raising a kid at Baicao Hall.

To be honest, when this realization struck her, she felt a deep pang of guilt—like she had let down the legacy of Yi Linglong.

In the proper timeline, Yi Linglong should’ve already been recruiting allies and shaking up the Tower’s power structure. His reputation as a dangerous prodigy should be spreading.

But in her version? Thanks to her efforts, the entire Jianghu now just knew Yi Linglong had… a really nice face.

In the original timeline, there had also been a pivotal event: Bai Xiaosheng suddenly announced he would be updating the Young Heroes List.

That time was almost here.

Bai Xiaosheng was a mysterious figure—maybe not a single person, but more like a profession. Like some arcane “lore master.” No one knew what he looked like, but he seemed to pass the mantle through generations. He knew all kinds of strange secrets about the Jianghu.

Hua Rongyue had no idea if he knew the truth about her and Yi Linglong.

The “Young Heroes List” was a ranking of young martial artists, sorted by strength. Bai Xiaosheng had many such lists—like the “Beauty List,” the “Heroes List,” and so on. The Young Heroes List didn’t seem as glamorous, but every major sect paid close attention to it.

Because—as the saying goes, “If the youth are strong, the nation is strong.” This world might not have Liang Qichao, but the same idea held true: everyone understood how important the younger generation was.

Back then, Yi Linglong had shocked the world by taking the number one spot—beating out several widely favored candidates and catapulting into fame. That year’s list had been particularly unusual, full of surprises. It had also laid the groundwork for Yi Linglong’s future rise.

Hua Rongyue thought about all this—but felt it had nothing to do with her. Six Doors would never let her get involved.

It was simple. To make the list, you had to show your face. And for a “fake,” nothing was more dangerous than exposure.

So there was no point worrying. She might as well focus on her daily work.

That was what she thought—until, a few days later, a white pigeon flew into Baicao Hall.

“Huh? A letter from Six Doors?” Hua Rongyue looked puzzled as she took down the note. “What… exactly did they write this time?”