“Thank you,” An Jiu said.

Lou Mingyue left, gently closing the door behind her.

Through the closed door, An Jiu heard a soft sigh from outside.

An Jiu could understand Lou Mingyue’s suppressed anguish. She too had watched her mother die, her heart filled with hatred ever since. It seemed Lou Mingyue was now treading the same path An Jiu once walked. The difference was that An Jiu was now more emotionally mature, having grown accustomed to life and death from a young age. Her resilience far surpassed that of ordinary people.

Perhaps Lou Mingyue would handle things better than she had…

An Jiu stood motionless for a long while before bolting the door. She extinguished the lamp and pulled a chair against the wall to sit. Clasping the dagger hidden in her sleeves, she closed her eyes.

In her daze, she seemed to hear that weak voice again: “An Jiu, go sleep on the bed.”

When she was with the Mei clan, An Jiu felt their Konghejia family was no different from before. But compared to now, it was infinitely better – at least she could see sunlight, enjoy fine food and clothing, and have the clan’s protection. Before, when two souls shared one body, she always held an attitude of “kill or be killed.” Now that Mei Jiu had truly disappeared, An Jiu found herself plunging into endless loneliness once more.

When blood stained the plum blossoms, An Jiu felt nothing. But now, sitting in darkness like in her past life, she inexplicably recalled stumbling Headmaster Zhao, Master Qingming and his goat, the cunning and fiery Mei Ruyan, and Mei Jiu, who was like a jasmine flower…

Those chaotic images exploded in her mind, causing a splitting headache.

An Jiu slowly opened her eyes, a glimmer of moisture shining in the darkness.

After a long while, she said in her heart: Mei Jiu, this is no longer the Mei clan.

She sat motionless for two hours before hearing movement around her. Without using her spiritual power, she relied on her hearing to judge that about ten people were coming this way. It must be the group returning from the selection process.

“It’s now the end of the Xu hour. Assemble at the training ground at the first quarter of the Hai hour tomorrow night!” The voice resonated like a deep bell.

From the Xu hour today to the Hai hour tomorrow meant spending a day and night in darkness.

An Jiu’s hand rested on the smooth jade of her dagger sheath, her index finger twitching slightly with her heartbeat.

After some rustling outside, everything was once again swallowed by oppressive darkness.

Time stretched endlessly.

The surroundings grew darker, truly pitch-black. There was no difference between eyes open or closed.

Crack.

A faint sound instantly woke An Jiu from her light sleep. She silently tilted her head towards the source of the noise.

But apart from that slight sound, there was no further disturbance.

An Jiu’s mind raced. To prevent any potential drugging, she immediately held her breath.

After a moment, there was finally a slight, expected friction sound.

An Jiu’s brow twitched slightly, her grip tightening on the dagger.

The intruder made no further sound, but An Jiu sensed they were moving towards the bed. Her first thought was that this uninvited guest might be Qiu Yunran.

However, the intruder’s next actions made An Jiu doubt this assumption. There was a quick, faint scratching sound in the air, followed by a loud crack as the bedboard split.

The situation was clear. The intruder had swung a weapon at the bed, obviously intending to kill her.

Hearing the unexpected sound, the assailant didn’t linger for even a breath, swiftly darting out.

Simultaneously, sounds of fighting erupted from Lou Mingyue’s room next door but quieted almost instantly.

Bang bang bang!

Someone knocked on the wall from Lou Mingyue’s side. An Jiu listened but didn’t respond.

Three more knocks came from the other side.

An Jiu still didn’t respond.

After a while, Lou Mingyue called from outside the door, “Mei Fourteen, are you alright?”

“Mm,” An Jiu answered.

A moment later, two more knocks came from next door.

An Jiu, realizing this was Lou Mingyue’s signal, raised her hand and rapped twice on the wall in response. She then got up to open the window for ventilation.

Sitting back down, An Jiu pondered the recent events. She guessed this was likely part of Konghejia’s training.

However, both Chu Dingjiang and Lou Mingyue had told her there would be no mortal danger in the first two months at Konghejia. Yet the attacker just now had shown no restraint! The blow had split the bedboard in two. If she had truly been an inexperienced person, she would have ended up like the bedboard.

Given these inconsistencies, An Jiu speculated that someone must be specifically targeting her.

Any of the four instructors – Tian, Xuan, Di, or Huang – could be responsible, but An Jiu suspected the “dead eunuch” Di Instructor the most.

Unfamiliar with Konghejia, her thoughts became more jumbled. After a long while, she still couldn’t make sense of it all.

An hour later, two more knocks came from the wall next door. Unsure of their meaning, An Jiu used her spiritual power to sense that Lou Mingyue was leaving her room. She got up and followed.

The outside was marginally better for visibility than the inside. At least with An Jiu’s eyesight, she could faintly make out moving shadows.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” Lou Mingyue said softly.

An Jiu acknowledged and followed her through the darkness.

Lou Mingyue noticed that An Jiu’s footsteps were still very heavy, even worse than at the ancient temple. She wondered why An Jiu hadn’t improved after so long and had even regressed. But she didn’t ask, instead also suppressing her inner force.

While others skulked about, they walked openly, leaving clear footprints. Lou Mingyue, being naturally unrestrained, felt a secret thrill at this moment of relaxation.

An Jiu, however, was thinking that she couldn’t continue like this. She didn’t want to reveal her spiritual power too early, but without it, her lack of light skills made it too easy to make noise moving in the dark.

Turning a corner, Lou Mingyue suddenly halted, spinning around to launch a hidden weapon towards the roof on their right.

Whoosh! The cloaked figure on the roof swept the projectile aside with a flourish.

“Lou Two, Mei Fourteen.” The mellow voice was like a moonbeam piercing the night, soft and pure.

The cloak fell, outlining a tall, slender figure.

An Jiu’s mind flashed to a pair of startlingly beautiful eyes. “Deputy Commander of the Shence Army.”

“I said we would meet again,” Gu Jingfeng said.

This statement had always been a mystery. An Jiu didn’t understand why he was always so certain. “Why?”

“I’ve been ordered to select new Dragon Guard members. You two are candidates.” Gu Jingfeng tossed two objects their way. “Catch.”

Lou Mingyue and An Jiu’s first instinct was to dodge, but hearing his calm tone, they inexplicably froze and reached out to catch the items.

The objects felt cool and smooth in their hands, like jade pieces.

“Until next time.” Gu Jingfeng’s figure vanished into the darkness in the blink of an eye.

“Heart-bewitching technique!”

“Dragon Guard?”

Lou Mingyue and An Jiu spoke simultaneously.

An Jiu paused. “You’re saying that was due to a heart-bewitching technique just now?”

“It must be. Heart-bewitching and mind-reading techniques are closely related. Both require extremely high innate talent,” Lou Mingyue pondered. “It’s said that those with superior aptitude are born with seven orifices connecting to the spirit, possessing wisdom beyond ordinary people. Mentioning the Shence Army’s Deputy Commander reminded me – that there’s a deputy commander named Gu Jingfeng known for his extraordinary talent. That must have been him just now, right?”

“Yes,” An Jiu nodded, then asked, “What’s the Dragon Guard?”

She clearly remembered the Konghejia military’s divisions: Yulin, Shence, Shenwu, and Weiyue. Where did this Dragon Guard come from?