Little Pink Starfish

When Six Doors wants to promote someone, it’s actually quite easy—for example, the girl who arrived with Hua Rongyue and Jiang Lianhuan.

While ordinary martial heroes have to rely on luck and coincidences to gain fame, Six Doors doesn’t need such things. All their “cases” involve real crimes in the martial world—ranging from minor offenses to major ones—and can be selectively assigned. These cases allow someone to build reputation while simultaneously doing Six Doors’ dirty work.

Jiang Lianhuan and that other girl might have some autonomy in choosing their missions, but for Hua Rongyue—a fake with no real standing—her job was simply to go along with whatever she was told. She didn’t even know where she was going until she was in the carriage.

“…A pleasure boat?” Hua Rongyue blinked. “Why… that place?”

The carriage slowly rolled out from the woods, followed the official road, and entered what was clearly Jiangnan’s most prosperous region. The further they traveled, the more vibrant the surroundings became.

Although Hua Rongyue had always lived in the serene Bai Cao Hall, she knew this wasn’t the whole of Jiangnan. There was another side to it—extravagant and indulgent. Every night, lanterns floated on the Qinhuai River, creating a spectacle.

She noticed that Jiang Lianhuan and the other girl had split off somewhere earlier—they weren’t headed to the same destination. But this destination—this place she was going to—shocked her.

As soon as she heard the name, Hua Rongyue understood what this mission was really about.

Ancient Jiangnan was beautiful but also filled with darkness—desires masked in splendor, a place that felt detached from the mundane world.

…But that illusion didn’t last. Especially not here, in this version of Jiangnan.

She remembered that, in the original timeline, a major event occurred along the Qinhuai River around this time—a famously beautiful dancer went on a killing spree one night, murdering several people. The river was dead silent for three whole days afterward, as if it had become a river of ghosts.

The dancer vanished afterward, but her rampage had become a fuse that lit up buried madness.

Only then did the public learn the truth—she’d gone insane due to internal deviation. And her actions triggered a domino effect.

Soon after, more “madmen” emerged—many hiding in plain sight. At first, it was just dancers and courtesans… then gradually, influential figures from Jiangnan’s elite circles began to unravel.

One after another, these well-disguised lunatics were exposed. That was when people realized: the bright lights and merry songs of Qinhuai masked countless dangers.

…But Hua Rongyue still couldn’t tell if Six Doors had sent her here by design or accident.

They may have long known there were problems in Jiangnan, but clearly hadn’t grasped the extent. Yi Linglong had extensive connections, but even she only learned of the dancer’s massacre after it happened. Which meant the incident wasn’t orchestrated—it was spontaneous.

As for everything that happened after—the cascade of madness—maybe that had more push behind it. Still, the scale of the fallout was far beyond anyone’s expectations. A fluke of timing, place, and people.

So for now, Hua Rongyue held her judgment. She needed to see the specific task Six Doors assigned her before assuming anything. That would reveal whether they sent her with intent or just tossed her here by coincidence.

As the carriage approached the Qinhuai River, she could see pinpricks of light even from afar. Drawing closer, those lights turned into something dazzling and massive.

It was a man-made spectacle. Less artificial than modern cyberpunk, but overwhelming in its own way—bustling, grand, consuming.

The river was filled with pleasure boats. One, in particular, was a monstrous behemoth. Smaller boats each had their own flair. The entire riverbank was lit up like midday.

“So lively,” Hua Rongyue murmured to herself. In ancient times, when resources were scarce, such extravagance was rare. Only a place like this could afford it.

Beside her, Li Zixin remarked, “It is spectacular. Every time I come, I’m still amazed. But if you ever want to stroll around here, make sure to notify me first.”

“I won’t go anywhere without a reason,” Hua Rongyue said calmly.

“A gentleman, through and through,” Li Zixin chuckled. “Still, once you get here, you’ll understand—there’s no escaping it.”

Hua Rongyue turned and looked at him, slowly but firmly repeating: “I won’t go.”

The Qinhuai River was full of eyes. Everyone here had experience and keen perception—just one glance and they’d know who you were.

Hua Rongyue was lodged in one of the better places. They were the first group to arrive, and their horses were the fastest. The others weren’t here yet.

“You’d better get some rest now while it’s quiet,” Li Zixin advised. “Once they’re here, you’ll be too busy.”

From the lodgings alone, Hua Rongyue could tell her treatment was different. Most people were in a modest inn nearby. She, however, was placed in the finest accommodation—same as Wang Lingchao, who, curiously, also stayed here.

On the second day, the others began to arrive. Recalling Li Zixin’s words, Hua Rongyue decided to keep a low profile. She didn’t leave her room at all. Though she wasn’t afraid, she knew better than to be too flashy. Later that evening, she received a note from Li Zixin.

It instructed her to prepare for that night—a staged “performance” along the Qinhuai River, with Wang Lingchao. She was to act out the prearranged scene and was explicitly told to dress impeccably.

Reading the last line, Hua Rongyue understood: her role in Six Doors was that of a pretty face, not a main player. This high-profile affair wasn’t really assigned to her—her presence here was likely just a coincidence.

Jiang Lianhuan and the other girl probably had real missions. They were gaining visibility and solving problems. Hua Rongyue, however, had likely been assigned Qinhuai simply because Yi Linglong had a reputation for scandal here.

Six Doors was being straightforward—Hua Rongyue had shaken the martial world twice before by sheer appearance, so now she could keep playing that role. They clearly didn’t trust her combat skills.

Hua Rongyue chuckled. How did things line up so precisely? Maybe fate just spun the wheel and landed here. Even without Yi Linglong being in Tianyi Tower, she’d stumbled into another major event.

At the same time, Wang Lingchao received the same instructions.

“Do you think tomorrow I can turn Yi Linglong into a laughingstock?” His eyes glinted with malice. “If I can stomp him down, no one my age in Jiangnan can compare.”

“You’d better get that idea out of your head,” warned the middle-aged man who’d blocked Hua Rongyue from boarding the carriage earlier. “This is still Six Doors’ business. Even though your uncle asked me to watch over you, if you cause a mess, I won’t be able to clean it up.”

“But a few tricks are fine,” he added. “As long as it fits Six Doors’ plans, there’s no problem. If rumors spread in the martial world that Yi Linglong’s no good, that just means he lacked the skill to prove otherwise.” His tone grew colder as he remembered the scene from the other day. “That brat somehow got help from a powerful person… but this is my turf.”

Wang Lingchao privately looked down on the man. He thought that stunt with the carriage was petty and base. But the more disdain he felt, the more respectful he acted on the surface. He replied, “Understood.”

On the third day, Six Doors finally began to move. Of the three carriages that had traveled with Hua Rongyue, only one was now visible. The others had melted into the surroundings, likely to appear only when the “action” started.

Following orders, Hua Rongyue carefully selected an outfit: a floating azure robe made of a rare, ethereal fabric—not something a common merchant could afford. She suspected it was yet another “gift” from the Seventh Prince, like her earlier wardrobe—a touch of immortality in every fold.

Though she didn’t fully understand the relationship between Yi Linglong and the prince, one thing was certain: the prince knew her taste. With Yi Linglong’s looks, this kind of outfit made her appear otherworldly.

Dressed and ready, Hua Rongyue pushed open the door and stepped out. Wang Lingchao was waiting below with another hidden operative, ready to intervene if needed.

The image of her arriving in that carriage was still fresh in everyone’s mind. Zhang Yue, who’d arrived with her, was hidden in the crowd. People remembered her as modest, low-profile, and—at first glance—gentle.

“Are you nervous?” the middle-aged man asked Wang Lingchao. He scoffed, “Why would I be? I just hope he embarrasses himself before I even make a move. I can’t believe Six Doors actually sent someone like that…”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. A wave of gasps rippled through the crowd.

Everyone looked up.

On the second floor, a man in flowing azure robes stood at the stair landing, calmly gazing down.