Little Pink Starfish

When Hua Rongyue approached, she saw that the dancer was already red-faced and furious—more explosive than a lit fuse on a bomb.

She knew this dancer had been on the verge of a “breakdown” for days—was it really wise to provoke her like this? Hua Rongyue tread lightly, barely drawing attention from anyone present.

She made her way over, leaving behind two possibly-drunk companions. Zhang Yue hesitated and asked Li Zixin, “L-Li bro, what should we do now?”

They weren’t far from the Six Doors’ patrol area—there were even Six Doors agents stationed on a neighboring boat. Any flower boat on the Qinhuai River had to have some kind of background to operate; if Hua Rongyue had any real influence it would be different. But right now, she was just a regular agent—and one that some people had it out for. Stirring up trouble would only give others more ammo to take her down.

“We wait for her to come back.”

“Huh?” Zhang Yue blinked.

“I said, we wait for her to come back—can’t you hear me?” Li Zixin turned to snap at him, his eyes slightly red from the alcohol.

Zhang Yue was instantly cowed, mumbling as he went quiet.

By the time Hua Rongyue got closer, the dancer was being dragged away by another woman—probably the madam of the boat—who smiled while pinching the girl’s arm in warning.

“Just go now,” the madam said in a cheery voice that didn’t match her harsh actions. “Or else you might not get off this boat in one piece.”

“This isn’t what we agreed on!” the dancer hissed, her voice seething with suppressed rage.

Hua Rongyue’s unease grew as she watched. The dancer’s eyes were feral—unstable, almost self-destructive. Based on her experience… this was a clear sign of an oncoming episode.

Seeing that, Hua Rongyue intervened.

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” the madam scolded as she reached out to grab the dancer’s arm—only to have her wrist suddenly caught and locked in place.

She turned, ready to curse whoever dared interfere, but the moment she saw Hua Rongyue’s face, her expression changed instantly. “Oh my, a noble guest! What brings you here?”

Hua Rongyue didn’t respond immediately. The madam continued sweetly, “Sorry about the fuss, sir. If you’re not here for anything in particular, why not return to your table? I’ll send two lovely girls to keep you company.”

“She doesn’t want to go. Let her go,” Hua Rongyue said calmly.

She glanced at the dancer, who seemed to twitch slightly at her words—but then visibly calmed.

“Oh, a chivalrous rescue then,” the madam said, chuckling. “But you may not know how things work here. We have rules, you know. Don’t want to sully your eyes—how about I personally show you around instead?”

Hua Rongyue looked at her. If she had the money, she would’ve slapped it on the madam’s face and told her to scram. But unfortunately… she didn’t. All she had on her was a dozen or so taels—just a modest stipend from the Six Doors. So much for those time-travel dramas where people pull out thousands of taels like candy—it was all a dream.

So… should she just fight?

But she hesitated, for the same reasons Li Zixin and Zhang Yue were worried—too many eyes, too many risks.

“Sir, say something, please? You’re blocking business here,” the madam pushed again. By now, the commotion had drawn a crowd—some jeering, some just curious, some scolding Hua Rongyue for meddling.

Some speculated Hua Rongyue was a penniless scholar playing hero—trying to “rescue a courtesan,” just like in those storybooks. After all, her outfit today did give off that scholarly vibe.

Of everyone there, the dancer was the only one silently watching Hua Rongyue.

Without a word, Hua Rongyue slowly rolled up her sleeve.

The madam’s face shifted immediately. “Sir, what are you doing?”

On flower boats, this gesture was a sensitive one. In these chaotic times, you never knew who might suddenly start a fight.

A few hired thugs nearby stood up, alert. But Hua Rongyue didn’t draw a weapon—just tugged off a small button from her sleeve.

It was black, likely jade, small—no bigger than a fingernail—and glowed with a warm luster. Anyone could tell it was fine-quality jade.

Hua Rongyue tossed the piece to the madam and said, “I’m buying her.”

The madam calmly caught it, gave it a discreet look—and then quickly cupped it in her palm.

Only a handful of people nearby caught a glimpse of what it was: a rare, flawless piece of dark jade. The madam, clearly no fool, recognized its worth immediately.

“Well then, sir—you have the final say.” She turned and barked, “Yinshuang, go serve this gentleman.”

She gave the dancer a shove toward Hua Rongyue. The girl stumbled and bumped into her. Her skin was ice cold—like the chill Hua Rongyue used to feel when Yi Linglong took over her body.

She led the dancer away. The onlookers stared in stunned silence. No one could understand why the madam—normally so obstinate—had let her go after seeing a tiny trinket.

Some even stretched their necks to try and see what it was—too late. They realized they’d underestimated this person. He (or so they thought) clearly had real power.

Because this all played out so unexpectedly, every eye in the building was glued to the scene. Though it wasn’t rare for wealthy young masters to throw money around in brothels, it always made a splash.

Hua Rongyue brought the dancer back to her table. “Let’s go.”

“What did you give her?” Li Zixin asked. Hua Rongyue winked. “Secret.”

That obviously didn’t satisfy him, but this wasn’t the time to argue. He grabbed Zhang Yue and followed her off the boat without another word.

On the way, they pestered her endlessly about what she had given the madam. She didn’t say.

What she’d used was the “Ink Piece” from Tianyi Tower—one of a kind in the whole world.

When she left the Tower, she took two items: Ink Piece and Wushang (No Harm). She had thrown away Wushang, but kept the Ink Piece due to its small size. She never dared carry it openly and had always hidden it away.

She’d brought it this time in case it might come in handy—and unexpectedly, she used it here. Who would’ve thought?

Well, at least it went out with purpose. After following her for a year, it had a fitting end—traded for a girl’s freedom… maybe even the lives of others on that boat. Not a bad deal.

Li Zixin was still dying of curiosity, but since she wouldn’t talk, he gave up.

The dancer followed quietly behind Hua Rongyue. Naturally, they couldn’t bring her back to their current inn—that would raise too many questions. Hua Rongyue rented a room in another inn, paid for a few days, and told the girl it was a temporary place to rest.

Then they just sat and stared at each other awkwardly.

The dancer clearly wasn’t the talkative type. Feeling the silence drag on, Hua Rongyue said, “Just stay here for now. I’ll leave you some money. Later, find a proper way to make a living.”

The girl kept her head down, not even meeting her eyes.

“Also… try not to go out for the time being. If you feel unwell, just hang in there a little…”

But even after all that, the dancer stayed silent. Hua Rongyue was beginning to feel awkward herself.

She sighed inwardly. Great—she saved a mute. That Ink Piece was totally wasted. She didn’t really care about the item itself, but it was a memento—especially to her other “roommate.” Tossing it away so casually felt like a bit of a betrayal.

She turned to leave, shaking her head—only to hear a voice behind her.

“You’re Yi Linglong.”

Hua Rongyue froze.

“I saw you… back on the boat,” the dancer continued.

She panicked. She could recognize me? It was pitch dark that night—and she wasn’t even dressed the same today. How could she still tell?

She quickly glanced toward the adjacent room. If Li Zixin or the others heard this… the girl might be doomed.

“What you gave the madam… it was the Ink Piece,” the dancer said.

Hua Rongyue’s heart thudded louder. Wushang she could explain. But the Ink Piece… that was beyond her.

“Shh! Don’t talk nonsense. Say that again and I’ll kill you!” she snapped, doing her best to sound menacing.

Then she launched into a light step and vanished. The dancer watched silently from the window as Hua Rongyue disappeared into the distance—saying nothing.

Hua Rongyue returned to the inn alone, heart pounding. Only after rejoining Li Zixin and the others did she finally breathe easy.

Please let this mission end soon, she prayed. Thank goodness it’s ancient times—travel is slow. Once I’m back at the Hundred Herbs Hall, they’ll never find me again.

Li Zixin waved her over. “Come take a look—how do you like this sword?”