A Letter from the Crown Prince

Heaven Dou City was much cleaner at dawn than Suotuo City.

Inside the Crown Prince's Mansion, the flowers and trees were neatly trimmed, and not a single fallen leaf lay on the stone steps. The attendants walked softly, heads bowed and breaths held. Even the sound of a teacup touching the table was hushed, as though the entire mansion were breathing with care.

Xue Qinghe sat behind his desk, reading a letter sent from Suotuo City.

The paper was ordinary.

The handwriting was nothing special, either.

But that lazy air practically leaped off the page and into her face.

"To the young lady herself."

At those words, Qian Renxue nearly crumpled the letter.

She was Xue Qinghe now.

Crown Prince of the Heaven Dou Empire.

Proper, gentle, respectful toward men of talent. She should not frown over one outrageous form of address.

But Bai Jin excelled at cracking the composure she worked so hard to maintain.

The letter was a mess.

The first part said Shrek Academy was poor with remarkable flair, and that its headmaster's abacus clattered louder than a Soul Skill. The middle said Ning Rongrong had made great progress, evolving from "a young lady who could cry" into "a young lady who could run." Only in the last part did it get to the point.

The Ghost Face Society was watching Tang San.

The clues pointed to Blue Silver Emperor blood.

Keep it quiet for now.

Qian Renxue's fingers stilled.

The Blue Silver Emperor.

That name should not have surfaced so easily.

Spirit Hall's old records contained little about the Blue Silver Emperor, but every entry carried weight. She knew what those words might involve. She also knew how many eyes would turn toward the boy called Tang San if the news reached Spirit City.

She was silent for a long time before reading on.

The letter ended with a single sentence.

"Don't rush to act. He's still young. Let him grow a few thorns of his own."

Qian Renxue looked at the line and suddenly smiled.

It was not the gentle smile of Crown Prince Xue Qinghe.

It was Qian Renxue's own smile.

A little helpless.

And a little envious.

Bai Jin was like a wind that refused to follow the rules. He killed when killing was needed, trained when training was needed, and defended his own when they needed it. He even dared to lazily ask the Worship Hall for candy.

He never seemed afraid of taking the wrong road.

Because he could not be bothered to walk the road someone else had laid out for him.

Footsteps sounded outside the door.

An elderly man appeared without a sound, his aura inscrutable and his gaze sharp.

"Young Mistress."

By the time Qian Renxue looked up, her expression had returned to Xue Qinghe's calm.

"I've told you. Call me Your Highness here."

The old man lowered his head. "Yes, Your Highness."

He was Snake Lance Douluo, tasked with secretly protecting Qian Renxue.

"Has something happened in Suotuo City?" he asked.

Qian Renxue closed the letter.

"The Ghost Face Society."

Snake Lance Douluo frowned. "An Evil Soul Master organization?"

"Yes."

"Should we send someone to deal with it?"

Qian Renxue considered it for a moment, then shook her head.

"Bai Jin is there."

Snake Lance Douluo fell silent.

Those three words saved a great deal of trouble.

They were also infuriating.

Among Spirit Hall's younger generation, Bai Jin was the least like someone from Spirit Hall. He ignored rules, disliked orders, and often treated messages from the Worship Hall like wind passing his ears.

Unfortunately, he was strong.

Strong enough that many rules had to weigh whether they were tough enough before confronting him.

Qian Renxue picked up her pen again.

She wanted to write a formal reply.

But when she pictured Bai Jin's smiling face, formality felt pointless.

So she wrote only two lines.

"As for Tang San, we'll proceed as you suggest for now."

"Also, stop calling me young lady."

After writing that, she paused and added another sentence.

"If Ning Rongrong has improved, you may inform Sect Master Ning. Don't let the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect suspect you've led her astray."

Qian Renxue looked at the sentence and felt she had been exceedingly considerate.

Then she sealed the letter and handed it to Snake Lance Douluo.

"Send it to Suotuo City."

Snake Lance Douluo took it, then hesitated. "Your Highness, you seem to trust him a great deal."

Qian Renxue did not answer at once.

Sunlight spilled through the window onto her shoulder, gilding her disguise with a gentle glow.

Of course, she did not trust Bai Jin completely.

The first thing she had been taught growing up was never to trust anyone lightly.

But Bai Jin was different.

He knew who she was and what she was doing, yet he never used it to pressure her. He teased her for working so hard to keep up the act and complained that she spoke too stiffly. And when she tried to bear everything alone, he would force a piece of candy into her hand.

Long ago, when she had first decided to enter Heaven Dou as Xue Qinghe, Bai Jin had asked her something.

"Do you really want to go?"

She had answered quickly.

"It's my mission."

Bai Jin had only said, "Oh," then set a bag of candy on her desk.

"A mission's a mission. Just don't fool yourself along with everyone else."

She had remembered those words for a long time.

So long that even now, sitting in the Crown Prince's Mansion, she sometimes saw the courteous, gentle Xue Qinghe in a bronze mirror and thought of Bai Jin's lazy, irritating expression.

He had not been trying to stop her.

He had only been reminding her that she could choose her own road, but she should not follow it so far that she forgot who she was.

Someone like that was not necessarily dependable.

But he was hard to dislike.

"It's not trust," Qian Renxue said evenly.

"His methods may be absurd, but he has a line he won't cross."

Snake Lance Douluo nodded and withdrew.

Meanwhile, outside Suotuo City.

Bai Jin sat on a tree branch, having just finished questioning the Gray-Clothed Man.

The Ghost Face Society had another base near Suotuo City. It was hidden deep, and its members avoided ordinary people, targeting only Soul Masters.

They had recently received just two assignments.

One was to collect the blood of Soul Masters with the Blue Silver Grass Martial Soul.

The other was to determine whether Tang San was connected to an old case.

The Gray-Clothed Man did not know what that case was.

He was only a messenger, with little information. But Bai Jin could tell he was not lying. Whoever held the real clues was hidden deeper still, like a thorn buried in flesh. Leaving it there would not kill anyone, but it would keep hurting.

Bai Jin hated things like that most.

They were irritatingly drawn out.

And the thorn had lodged in a carefully chosen spot.

It was neither somewhere Spirit Hall could openly remove it at once nor something the children of Shrek could handle alone. It seemed to be waiting—waiting for Tang San to grow older, and for Bai Jin to show an opening.

Unfortunately, Bai Jin was terrible at following a timetable someone else had made.

When Bai Jin had heard it all, his expression remained flat.

The Gray-Clothed Man hung upside down beneath the tree, his face pale.

"I told you everything! Let me go!"

Bai Jin looked down at him.

"Did I say I'd let you go?"

The Gray-Clothed Man's eyes widened.

"You said you'd beat me after you finished asking questions!"

"That's right." Bai Jin nodded with a smile.

"And now I'm finished."

The next instant, a scream sent birds bursting from the forest.

Not long afterward, a messenger bird sent by Snake Lance Douluo landed on Bai Jin's shoulder.

Bai Jin opened the letter. When he saw "stop calling me young lady," he laughed so hard he nearly fell out of the tree.

He took out a pen and wrote a reply on the back.

"Of course, Your Highness, young lady."

After writing it, he thought for a moment and crossed out "young lady."

He changed it to "Your Highness, little kid."

Bai Jin nodded in satisfaction.

Very polite.

Extremely mature.

He thought he was a truly respectable man.