After obtaining the case files from the police station, Qu Yue received a call claiming an urgent task had emerged, and she parted ways with Xiang Haikui.

This was, of course, just an excuse. Qu Yue had accompanied her merely as a guide to familiarize Xiang Haikui with how Special Department personnel conducted their duties.

As for “solving the case,” Qu Yue had no intention of helping.

Although Xiang Haikui was a talent the Director had specifically recruited, she still needed to prove her abilities to others.

As an experienced worker, Xiang Haikui understood this principle perfectly.

She also knew Qu Yue hadn’t left but was hiding with her strange husband, secretly observing her progress, ready to step in if she made a serious mistake or caused trouble.

In the police station conference room, Xiang Haikui flipped through the case files: “This isn’t just your chance to make amends, but also my first assignment upon joining the Special Department. We absolutely cannot mess this up.”

Yin Changli sat to her left, smiling as he asked: “How does it look?”

“Not good,” Xiang Haikui replied after carefully reviewing the files twice. “The incident occurred at a hot spring bath on a hillside. Customers in one of the pools suddenly melted, like ice cream under the scorching sun…”

Realizing Yin Changli might not know what ice cream was, she changed her comparison. “Like dropping a piece of candy into boiling water. The hot spring’s temperature remained unchanged. According to the Special Department’s on-site testing, there were no residual spiritual energy fluctuations, so it was classified as the work of Shadow Beasts.”

Yin Changli nodded.

Xiang Haikui closed the file and stood up: “Theoretical discussion is meaningless—let’s go to the scene. There’s no such thing as a Shadow Beast in this world. Didn’t you once say that even consciousness entities, as long as they exist, must leave traces? If we can’t perceive them, it’s only because we lack the corresponding awareness.”

This indicated the Shadow Beasts weren’t native Earth creatures.

Their simultaneous appearance in several cities suggested the invading creatures had come as a group from the same species.

If they could determine the characteristics of one, the others would have nowhere to hide.

With Yin Changli’s knowledge base, this shouldn’t be too difficult, otherwise, Qu Song wouldn’t have assigned the case to them.

Yin Changli nodded again, pressing his palm against the table to support himself as he stood.

The police provided a car to escort the two “Daoist Masters” to the crime scene. On the way, Xiang Haikui continuously recalled various strange races she had encountered.

Yin Changli turned his head to look out the window.

When Xiang Haikui emerged from her thoughts to ask Yin Changli something, he always managed to turn his eyes back just in time to meet her gaze and listen to her question.

But Xiang Haikui still noticed that when Yin Changli looked out the window, he wasn’t admiring the modern city—he was lost in thought.

Because in the moment he turned back to her, the worry in his eyes couldn’t dissipate quickly enough.

Xiang Haikui understood—he was concerned about Bai Xingxian.

Time flowed differently between Earth and that world; one year on Earth equaled twenty years there. Even during this short car ride, enough time could pass there for the Mountain and Sea Race and the Heavenly Race to engage in a fierce battle.

…

After arriving at the hot spring bathhouse, Xiang Haikui circled the affected pool several times.

The pool was outdoors, still filled with the same water from when the incident occurred, with no detectable scent of blood.

There were no surveillance cameras at the pool, but eyewitnesses clearly stated that the customers soaking in the water melted like ice figures, rapidly dissolving and merging with the hot spring water.

Yin Changli lifted the hem of his robe, crouching beside the pool. He extended his finger, imbued with spiritual energy, into the water.

As if sensing something, his brow furrowed slightly.

“Stop,” Xiang Haikui noticed he had discovered something, and halted him.

“What is it?” Yin Changli paused his movement, looking up at her.

“Don’t concern yourself with this. When it’s time to act, don’t help either,” Xiang Haikui gestured for him to withdraw his hand from the pool and stand aside, speaking with complete seriousness. “The Special Department leaders are certainly evaluating me right now. Please let me have this moment of glory all to myself.”

Yin Changli’s frown deepened.

Xiang Haikui raised one eyebrow: “What? You think I can’t handle this alone?”

Yin Changli shook his head: “Of course not. I’m just wondering about the reason for your sudden ‘arrogance.'”

Xiang Haikui typically didn’t enjoy using her brain—he would investigate the cause while she took action. That was logical.

“This is my job from now on. I can’t bring you along every time I go out on assignment, so from the very beginning, I need to adapt to this rule,” Xiang Haikui winked at him. “Just like when you brought me to your world for training and mercilessly kicked me into a hyena den, forcing me to adapt to your world’s rules.”

“Women do love bringing up old accounts,” Yin Changli pinched the bridge of his nose.

He understood—she had perceived the emotions he revealed during the car ride when he suddenly thought of Bai Xingxian.

Eventually, Yin Changli would inevitably travel back and forth between the two worlds. She feared that after he returned to the Mountain and Sea Race, he would worry about her just as he worried about Xiao Bai. Better to set his mind at ease from the start.

Yin Changli thought she was overthinking.

Bai Xingxian was like his child—no matter how old children grow, parents always worry whether they can handle difficulties.

But he understood and respected Xiang Haikui’s strength, and wouldn’t excessively worry about her safety—he would only miss her terribly.

And for longing, there was no remedy except reunion. No matter how much she proved herself now, it wouldn’t help.

Yin Changli didn’t argue with her and obediently moved aside, only reminding her, “Xiao Kui, this thing isn’t easy to deal with.”

“Not easy to deal with, but still manageable,” Xiang Haikui mimicked his posture, crouching and extending her hand into the water, probing with spiritual energy, but detecting nothing.

She then opened her sword case and drew Tian Kuang.

Placing the tip of Tian Kuang into the water, she still felt nothing.

“Hmm,” Xiang Haikui felt somewhat perplexed.

…

As Xiang Haikui had guessed, Qu Yue hadn’t left.

She had arrived first and installed an “eye” near the pool.

This eye observed Xiang Haikui’s every move, transmitting them back to Special Department headquarters in real-time.

A group of high-ranking officials watched the screen intently.

The Shadow Beasts were indeed a calamity, with their species remaining unidentifiable—this was their first point of curiosity.

Their second point of curiosity concerned Xiang Haikui herself.

This girl who had been taken to another world a year ago and turned that place upside down—just how extraordinarily intelligent and formidable was she?

They watched as Xiang Haikui put away Tian Kuang and raised her middle finger at the pool: “Coming to our world to cause trouble, do you understand our civilization? Do you know what this gesture means?”

“You don’t understand? Let me explain it to you…”

“What kind of hero hides like this? If you have any courage, come out and face me one-on-one. No—come out and see how I, single-handedly, will crush your entire nest!”

Her language gradually devolved from somewhat civilized to market-fishwife level cursing, making the corners of the officials’ mouths twitch.

Was she trying to provoke the Shadow Beasts into revealing themselves?

A senior official who had just emerged from seclusion and was receiving a comprehensive introduction to modern society laughed: “Was the otherworld Miss Xiang was taken to called Zaun?”

…

It seemed provocation wouldn’t work.

Xiang Haikui gave Yin Changli a meaningful look.

Yin Changli was both amused and exasperated. Her meaning was clear: “It seems this race isn’t as powerful as your Mountain and Sea Race, quite restrained. If it were your Mountain and Sea Race, being insulted like this for so long, they’d have already jumped out like firecrackers.”

The verbal assault was just a progressive approach. Xiang Haikui gradually slowed her speech: “Hmm? Can you understand what I’m saying? If so, make a ripple in the water?”

She stared unblinkingly at the water’s surface, her lips curving into a contemptuous arc.

In her mind, she recalled the image of Emperor Jun Jing Ran.

As a member of the Heavenly Race, who considered themselves superior, looking down on all other races.

“So, you creatures who can’t even understand human language—what lowly existence do you occupy in this vast multiverse of three thousand worlds?”

Xiang Haikui spoke deliberately, slowly, imitating Jing Ran’s thick sense of superiority with exquisite precision, capturing even his mocking, pitying tone as if cast from the same mold.

For a moment, even Yin Changli was momentarily lost in recollection, vaguely remembering his past predicament when suppressed by Emperor Jun, hiding everywhere like a stray dog.

Immediately, he lowered his gaze, fixing his eyes on the pool water, condensing a black light orb at his fingertip.

The pool’s surface rippled, unable to maintain composure any longer.

A mist of water flew from the pool toward Xiang Haikui.

Xiang Haikui drew her sword almost simultaneously but didn’t slash at the water mist. Instead, she flicked her blade, sending a surge of sword energy that lifted soil from the surrounding flower beds, swirling it around herself to create an earthen shield.

Yin Changli slightly turned his head toward the hidden “eye” in the distance: “These ‘Shadow Beasts’ are elemental beings. The one in the hot spring is a water element. Any water allows it to merge and possess.”

Since the human body contains water, it could merge with a person’s body, consume them, and return to the pool as water. This made it appear as if the victims had melted.

Once merged with an element, forcing it out was extremely difficult.

Yin Changli had a method and knew Xiang Haikui could think of one too, but the approach she used was something even he hadn’t considered.

…

“Unknown species—once you understand their characteristics, I can handle a hundred of them alone,” Xiang Haikui said as she and Yin Changli left the hot spring, walking downhill together with nothing else to do, the cleanup work left to other Special Department personnel.

“Mm,” Yin Changli smiled in agreement.

“Later, the Special Department will find a way to use the corpse of this water elemental beast to lure all the other elemental beasts from different regions here, then activate the city’s defensive formation to trap them all,” remarked Xiang Haikui, standing on the hillside with the entire city spread out before them. “Soon, this city will witness a battle.”

When the fighting began, it would be impossible to hide from the citizens. “But after it’s over, the defensive formation will emit a spiritually-induced hypnotic wave, completely erasing this ‘fantastical experience’ from their minds.”

Xiang Haikui touched her head, wondering whether she had also experienced supernatural events during her previous life on Earth, only to be hypnotized afterward and made to forget.

“Mm,” Yin Changli nodded again.

“What’s wrong with you?” Xiang Haikui had been chattering nonstop and sensed that Yin Changli wasn’t himself. “Ever since we left the bathhouse, you’ve had a forced smile. Were you injured earlier?”

That shouldn’t have been possible—Xiang Haikui had been keeping an eye on him throughout the fight.

Nevertheless, she took his arm and examined his condition.

“It’s nothing,” Yin Changli shook his head, lowering his eyelashes as he gazed down at the city. “I was just thinking about how you’ll soon be fighting valiantly for them, yet they won’t remember. In many people’s memories, you’re still a wanted criminal—a psychopath who pushed her beloved senior down a cliff after being rejected…”

“What does that matter?” Xiang Haikui waved dismissively, not bothering to dwell on the issue.

Wait, this didn’t seem like something Yin Changli would typically ponder.

“Doesn’t it matter…?” Yin Changli’s tone remained even, his lips still curved in a smile.

Xiang Haikui could tell it was a fake smile.

Was he angry?

But why?

Xiang Haikui carefully recalled her words, wondering which one had offended him.

Oh, she understood!

He had emphasized “beloved senior,” yet she showed no reaction.

Moreover, what bothered him was that in everyone’s memories, she would continue to exist as a psychopath who had been infatuated with Jing Ran.

Xiang Haikui was about to roll her eyes, finding him overly sensitive.

But then she realized that wasn’t quite right—his mood had seemed off even before this.

Thinking of Jing Ran, Xiang Haikui suddenly had an epiphany: “You’re jealous.”

Her smile immediately took on a teasing quality as she clenched her fist and lightly punched his shoulder: “I imitated Jing Ran’s superiority too well, and you’re jealous.”

The fake smile gradually faded from Yin Changli’s face as he nodded seriously: “Yes.”

It was truly too similar.

Even though she despised such haughty attitudes, she could imitate them perfectly.

How vividly this first love must still exist in her mind.

“For someone skilled at reading hearts, how did you suddenly become so foolish?” For the first time, Xiang Haikui felt intellectually superior to him, glancing at him sidelong. “You should be happy.”

“Oh? How so…?” Yin Changli assumed a posture of waiting to hear her explanation.

“For a long time, he was just a blur in my mind,” Xiang Haikui crossed her arms, lowering her head slightly.

She felt her body had a self-protection mechanism that actively worked to forget people or events that caused her pain.

“But now, I can recall him freely, with increasing clarity. Doesn’t that mean he no longer affects me?”

Yin Changli was momentarily stunned, feeling as if her words had suddenly awakened him from a dream. His expression softened: “Fine, I’ll believe you for now.”

“What do you mean ‘for now’?” Xiang Haikui grew somewhat angry, stopping and turning to point behind them. “Do you know that my home is in that direction?”

She cast a spell, transforming sword energy into a small bird that flew across half the city and landed on an old apartment building.

Yin Changli’s spiritual sense followed the small bird as it descended.

“I’ve lived there since birth. The place was rented. After my parents died, I was sent to an orphanage, and the apartment became a ‘haunted house’ with terrible feng shui. The landlord tried to sell it cheaply but still took a long time to find a buyer…”

Xiang Haikui’s voice lowered, “After growing up, I would often walk there and linger at the entrance, reinforcing my goal to work hard, earn more money, and someday buy that apartment back.”

What others saw as a haunted house contained the happiest memories of her life.

“Xiao Kui…” All the jealousy in Yin Changli’s chest vanished, and now he only wondered how to comfort her.

“Director Song has already transferred money to my bank account—my salary for joining the Special Department,” Xiang Haikui drew a large circle with her hand. “He said the pay isn’t high, but it’s enough to buy that entire street.”

Yin Changli reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder and patting it gently: “But you probably don’t want to buy it now. There’s no meaning in it—better to donate the money to an orphanage.”

“Father” was a word she currently wanted to avoid.

As long as she didn’t think about it, she wouldn’t have to consider whether, at the critical moment, Xiang Heng would choose him or Xiang Tianqing.

He understood.

Xiang Haikui was demonstrating that she truly no longer cared about Jing Ran at all.

Once that thorn had been removed from her heart, she could imitate him so perfectly.

Yin Changli realized he had indeed been foolish and felt remorseful for making her recall painful memories to prove her point.

But there was no need to apologize—his girl wasn’t that fragile. So he simply took her hand and continued walking forward: “Then let’s buy a high-rise to live in.”

“What high-rise? How unsophisticated. In our area, wealthy people live in low-level detached villas,” Xiang Haikui said as she walked alongside him.

“And then?” Yin Changli guided her to plan for the future, helping her quickly leave the unpleasant mood behind.

“Didn’t Qu Yue say that Jing Ran’s disappearance can’t be explained away? I’d better live somewhere else. Let’s see if the Special Department has enough influence to transfer me to another school. I want to finish university since I worked so hard to get in. I like to finish what I start.”

The spirit bird, losing the support of Tian Kuang’s sword energy, suddenly dispersed, casting a shadow that enveloped the old building below.

Xiang Haikui gazed at the neon lights gradually illuminating the city below. A thin mist rose around them—the vapor of human life, noisy and chaotic, yet soothing to the soul.