◎ Group Message ◎
The door of Cave Dwelling No. 1312 on Dao Mountain creaked open.
Dao Xi led the way, with Lin Shuang and the others following close behind.
Inside was a humble, almost rustic, three-room layout. The walls were lined with swords, rain capes, fishing nets, and other such items.
It hardly looked like the abode of a cultivator.
Lin Shuang couldn’t help but glance toward Dao Xi.
Between her and Dao Xi stood Meng Zi and Huangfu Yuan, their gazes shifting back and forth.
“What are you staring at—can’t I have fished in the past?”
Dao Xi snapped, clearly taking offense at Lin Shuang’s gaze.
But Lin Shuang simply nodded. “You may not have much talent for epiphanies about the Four Quadrants, but your organizational habits are commendable. All the tools are in plain sight—easy to grab when needed, no time wasted rummaging. I appreciate that.”
“…?”
Standing by the wall adorned with the rain cape, a vein twitched on Dao Xi’s forehead.
She didn’t think his hobbies were strange? That his cultivation was aimless? What—she admired him?
He was the Senior Brother here, for goodness’ sake!
With a slap, Dao Xi dropped his sword onto the tea table. “Pour your own tea!”
Meng Zi and Huangfu Yuan had already taken their seats.
Dao Xi eyed Lin Shuang, who was still admiring the fishing net. “I’ve heard tales of some injured Inner Sect elders, hiding their identities and posing as ordinary stewards, blending in with the sect.”
“They take pleasure in revealing themselves only when a disciple offends them.”
Meng Zi opened his mouth and glanced at Lin Shuang’s sweet and innocent face.
“Lin Shuang, were you in the Inner Sect before?” Dao Xi frowned. “My Nine Serpent Swords technique was exchanged at the Inner Sect’s Transmission Hall. Not even Zhenchuan has that sword art.”
Both Meng Zi and Huangfu Yuan turned toward Lin Shuang, their expressions complicated.
Lin Shuang returned the gaze with equal complexity. “Whatever happened to basic human trust?”
Meng Zi and Huangfu Yuan fell into silent contemplation.
“Did we ever have that?” Meng Zi crossed his arms.
Huangfu Yuan looked away.
Lin Shuang: “…”
She looked at Dao Xi with a rare hint of sympathy.
“I don’t actually know the Nine Serpent Swords technique.”
But what’s the harm in copying something you don’t recognize or know how to read?
“?! Liar! Every sword technique has a fundamentally different internal method!”
Dao Xi slammed the table.
Lin Shuang’s sympathy deepened. “Then you must not know that parabolic arcs follow fixed equations.”
“?”
“The sword moves like a water serpent—twisting, striking like a parabola in motion.”
“What?”
She shook her head.
Slope, focal distance to the directrix, angle of inclination, whether the arc opens upward or downward…
Given her own spiritual energy density, gravitational acceleration, no wind today, and negligible air resistance…
The Serpent Sword traced a parabolic arc through the air, struck the cliff behind Dao Xi, then rebounded to hit him. Solve for the sword’s velocity at the moment of spiritual energy release… Never mind. He wouldn’t get it.
Lin Shuang decided not to waste time explaining.
Dao Xi looked doubtful.
Meng Zi looked completely lost.
Huangfu Yuan’s phoenix eyes widened slightly. “Junior Sister, your talents clearly extend to swordsmanship—you have quite the accelerated approach.”
At his words, Lin Shuang nodded slightly.
She cast a casual glance toward the twelve thick books inside her storage pouch:
“Clearwater Sect’s Outer Sect Sword Techniques: 169 Exam Question Types”,
“Categorization of Sword Auras from Outer Sect Techniques into Linear, Hyperbolic, Parabolic, and Conic Equations”,
“Six-Class Sword Aura Mapping through Meridians”,
“Comprehensive Formulas for Twelve Sword Aura Types”…
Catching Huangfu Yuan’s inquisitive gaze, she discreetly waved a hand.
Taking a seat by the tea table, she poured herself a cup of spiritual tea.
“It’s nothing, just something the college entrance exams taught me.”
Huangfu Yuan narrowed his eyes.
With such brilliance, how had she lingered in the Outer Sect for ten years?
He’d never heard her name before—except from Xiao Bai’s mouth.
Meng Zi, having drained his tea cup, tipped it over his lips three more times before snapping back to reality.
Dao Xi, too, looked dazed, as if he were dreaming. “So, you really do have astounding talent… not just for formations but for sword techniques too?”
Lin Shuang waved modestly. “It’s not necessary to verbally praise something as trivial and unimportant as admiring me. Just keep it in your heart.”
“?”
“Let’s not waste time. Tell your story, Senior Brother Dao Xi.”
“!”
Lin Shuang glanced at the Pomodoro timer Xiao Ai had recorded.
She patted the lion-dog’s head. Next session: cultivation stories—25-minute countdown activated!
“Make it concise, Senior Brother Dao Xi. Best keep it under the time it takes for one incense stick to burn.”
She blinked.
Dao Xi, Meng Zi, and Huangfu Yuan all fell silent.
After a long pause, Dao Xi finally began. “My Stabilizing Needle was stolen from this very cave dwelling.”
With one sentence, he captured everyone’s attention.
Two of the most valuable stolen artifacts—both vanished from cave dwellings.
“Good thing I didn’t buy a cave in Zhenchuan,” Meng Zi exclaimed in relief. “That old woman was a con artist!”
“……”
Dao Xi placed his tea cup down expressionlessly. “Dao Mountain has produced many outstanding cultivators. You want to buy a cave here? Good luck finding one available.”
“Oh please, you act like that rundown place is some kind of treasure—”
“You!”
Huangfu Yuan had no choice but to stop them. “The Ten Disciples of Dao Mountain—East, South, West, North, Center, Green, White… we met long ago, back when we were nobodies. Even after making our breakthroughs one by one and moving away from Dao Mountain, none of us ever sold our former cave dwellings.”
“Isn’t that right, Junior Brother Dao Xi?”
Dao Xi’s lips twitched.
Hearing someone recite their ten aliases aloud… no matter how many times, it always made him feel slightly embarrassed.
“…Correct. Seven of my Senior Brothers have ascended to higher realms and relocated to more spiritually abundant peaks.”
“Seven out of ten are now among the top Inner Sect ranks. Dao Mountain is famed for producing prodigies.”
“In time, even new disciples began to believe—ten years in Dao Mountain, and one will surely reach the Spirit Refining stage.” Dao Xi said with pride.
“Now, you can’t even find a cave for sale. Listed, but never on the market.”
It was just like buying the apartment of a top-scoring exam student.
Lin Shuang understood instantly.
Meng Zi, however, just shook his head. “Fools and their money…”
“Enough. Back to the matter at hand.”
Dao Xi’s expression turned stern.
“You didn’t come here just to hear about Dao Mountain, did you?”
Lin Shuang looked slightly sheepish and glanced at the Pomodoro content on Xiao Ai—Cultivation Biographies.
She was here for the story…
“Then tell us how you lost the Stabilizing Needle.”
Lin Shuang leaned forward with curiosity.
“You said most of your Senior Brothers have left. Dao Mountain is mostly deserted now. If an outsider appeared, surely you’d have noticed.”
Whether it was winter snow or spring mud, with so few residents, any unfamiliar footsteps or sword traces would be obvious.
Even if they tried to erase them, it’d be easy to spot flaws.
“That day—”
Dao Xi’s gaze drifted as he recalled.
“Roughly two months ago, late in the tenth month, Senior Brother Dao Dong—he lives below me, mid-mountain—had just experienced a breakthrough and mastered the Five-Step Killing Formation.”
He gave Lin Shuang a resentful glance.
“That formation is one of the hardest third-grade formations among the ancient arts.”
“Senior Brother Dao Dong spent a year mastering it. I was thrilled for him and suggested we celebrate.”
“Originally, we planned to drink on Dao Mountain, but Senior Brother Dao Fa had just acquired a new third-grade ink painting—A Thousand Mountains and Rivers. None of us had seen it before.”
“So that night, we went to Dao Fa’s new cave, admired the painting, drank, and celebrated Dao Dong’s breakthrough.”
It had been a rare occasion—Dao Xi remembered it clearly.
“Senior Brother Dao Dong was overjoyed. That night, he didn’t use spiritual energy to detoxify the wine, and soon got drunk. I was affected too, and ended up quite tipsy.”
“When I woke up—”
Dao Xi looked at the rain cape hanging on the wall and chuckled bitterly.
“I was already lying in bed, back in my cave.”
“I couldn’t remember how I got home. Later I found out, Senior Brother Dao Dong and I had drunkenly sword-rode our way back—wobbling the whole way.”
“The next day, I noticed nothing amiss.”
“Since I’d missed a day of cultivation, I focused on sword practice. It wasn’t until the third day that I realized—my storage pouch was gone!”
He slammed his fist onto the table.
“I thought maybe I’d tossed it somewhere before bed, or maybe left it at Senior Brother Dao Fa’s.”
“But it was nowhere to be found—vanished into thin air!”
Lin Shuang’s expression turned odd. “Maybe you were flying drunk and dropped it on the way home.”
Drunk flying—terrible for efficient travel.
“……!”
Dao Xi ground his teeth. “I even offered a 10,000 spirit-stone reward for its return. No one has come forward.”
From the way he said it, even he wasn’t sure whether he’d dropped it on the return flight.
Huangfu Yuan, propping his forehead on one hand, gazed at the mountain peak outside.
“Two months ago—autumn leaves were falling.”
“Dao Mountain has no daily caretakers. Even if a thief came while you were asleep, the traces would’ve been buried under a night of fallen leaves.”
“And the next day, you practiced with the Serpent Sword—its winding arcs and third-layer energy flow would’ve swept the peak clean of any residual marks.”
“So in the end, you didn’t find a single clue and could only submit a basic loss report to the administration?”
Dao Xi nodded helplessly.
Lin Shuang frowned, conflicted.
By daylight, any trace left outside a cave would be instantly noticeable.
But fallen leaves at night, followed by a full day of sword training—any potential evidence would be completely erased.
How could it all line up so perfectly?
A drunken return at night, autumn leaves covering the ground, a day of sword practice—every possible trace, conveniently destroyed?
“You don’t usually go to the Transmission Hall? You always train on Dao Mountain itself?” Lin Shuang asked, suspicious.
Dao Xi bared his teeth. “I do go to the Transmission Hall for sword training now!”
Which meant… he hadn’t before.
Meng Zi shot him a glance filled with disapproval.
Inner Sect cave dwellings were rented to disciples on a periodic basis.
According to sect rules, disciples were forbidden from casually practicing offensive techniques inside their residences. Any damage to the cave or spiritual veins would affect future tenants.
Getting caught by the patrol squad? That would cost five hundred spirit stones.
Meng Zi’s eyes gleamed. “Dao Xi, next time you’re training sword techniques—call me.”
Dao Xi: “…”
“You think your inefficient, skip-the-lecture training habits are unknown among your peers?” Lin Shuang asked, curious.
Dao Xi: “…”
“I’m not the only one,” he grumbled.
Lin Shuang stroked her chin. “So it’s a common management issue in the Inner Sect.”
The Transmission Hall was far from the low-numbered caves.
Most disciples likely practiced in secret within their own dwellings.
“So, fallen leaves overnight, no attendants to sweep them, and you don’t train at the proper facilities…”
“All these coincidences—many disciples would be aware of them. Strictly speaking, everyone had the opportunity to commit the crime.”
Lin Shuang closed her eyes.
“Makes sense,” Dao Xi scratched his head. “I exchanged the Stabilizing Needle in Zhenchuan ten years ago—most of my acquaintances know that.”
Ten years ago…
Lin Shuang’s brow furrowed.
This wasn’t like Leng Qianqian’s newly heated treasure, stolen after only three days.
“You’ve had it for a decade. The formation inscription must be barely intact, right?” Huangfu Yuan set his teacup down.
Dao Xi gave a sheepish cough. “I used most of it—only about one-sixth remains.”
Lin Shuang and Meng Zi exchanged a look—so that’s why you weren’t panicking.
Two months ago… it seemed more like a spur-of-the-moment theft.
That Stabilizing Needle, after ten years, wasn’t worth much. Hardly something a thief would stake out long-term to steal.
“Senior Brother Dao Dong returned drunk the same night—did he lose anything?” Lin Shuang asked curiously.
“Nope. Just my unlucky self,” Dao Xi sighed.
Even if the Stabilizing Needle was cheap now, reissuing the disciple waist token and replacing the storage pouch would still cost spirit stones.
“Senior Brother Dao Dong must own a few formation arrays. Those are worth a lot, right?”
Dao Xi’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking that? Formation masters definitely have more money than I do.”
Everyone knew—sword cultivators were broke.
Lin Shuang didn’t buy it. Either the thief was stupid, or there was a flaw in the logic somewhere.
Why target Dao Xi and not Dao Dong, who was swimming in resources?
Both were third or fourth-layer Foundation Establishment cultivators, and both were drunk that night.
“Dao Dong’s cave is probably heavily fortified,” Huangfu Yuan guessed.
Meng Zi nodded. “Everyone knows—formation masters are no joke. His cave is harder to break into than most.”
“Which means the thief knew their strengths and weaknesses,” Lin Shuang said sharply.
“They likely knew Dao Dong was absorbed in ancient formations—and chose to avoid him.”
Dao Xi let out a yelp. “You’re saying it was an inside job?”
Lin Shuang flipped open Xiao Ai’s talisman record, reviewing her concise notes:
- Leng Qianqian: treasure obtained at Rong Bao Pavilion; cave burgled during breakthrough retreat.
- Dao Xi: treasure obtained in Zhenchuan ten years ago; burgled after celebratory banquet, claiming drunken return.
The two cases bore some resemblance.
But the sample size was still too small.
It wasn’t impossible that the thieves were different.
She looked up at the Inner Sect. Disciples flew by on swords above, with the occasional immortal crane gliding past.
After a moment’s thought—
“I have a bold idea.”
“Hm?”
“Let’s go hear the next story.”
“?!”
Could you at least be polite?!
Meng Zi and Huangfu Yuan accompanied her as they bid farewell to Dao Xi and left quickly.
Back in the “car,” Lin Shuang pressed Xiao Ai’s auto-reply mode.
Instantly, Xiao Ai turned to Dao Xi: “Thank you for your cooperation. If we receive further updates, we’ll notify you.”
“Stay busy. We’ll contact you next time.”
Dao Xi: “…”
That was way too procedural!
But still… he had learned something.
A sword arc… shaped like a parabola?
Dao Xi drifted into thought as he returned to his cave.
Soon it was Huangfu Yuan’s turn to drive. After downing three spiritual restoration pills, he finally reached speed limit and descended upon the third most unfortunate disciple on the list.
“Tell us your story—”
Lin Shuang had just opened her mouth when Meng Zi almost slapped it shut with his sword sheath.
The third victim was someone they all recognized.
“You?”
“You again?”
Both sides stared in shock.
It was Chen Sheng, a Foundation Establishment Stage Two sword cultivator—he had once spent a whole incense stick’s time giving Lin Shuang a shoulder massage in Zhenchuan.
Chen Sheng, sword strapped to his back, took a deep breath. “I only have time for a cup of tea.”
“Tch, what an attitude! I haven’t even asked you to pay back the pills for injuring Senior Brother Huangfu!” Meng Zi sneered.
Huangfu Yuan’s eyelashes trembled.
Chen Sheng: “???”
“What pill fee? Meng Zi, don’t try to scam me! You all stole my floor ranking, and I spent an extra six thousand spirit stones renting this cave!”
Another broke sword cultivator.
Lin Shuang, listening nearby, arched a brow.
How strange. Everyone knew alchemists were the richest cultivators.
Take the one beside her, for instance—the famously frail but filthy-rich dog from Rong Bao Pavilion: Huangfu Yuan.
Yet the thief didn’t target him, the soft-spoken pill cultivator, and instead preyed on broke sword and blade cultivators.
Utterly baffling.
As someone who lived by efficiency, Lin Shuang simply could not grasp this criminal’s logic.
Robbing one Huangfu Yuan was worth a hundred Chen Shengs.
This thief was painfully inefficient!
“You lost a Flowing Cloud Wine Cup?” Meng Zi asked routinely. “How’d you get it?”
“Mm. My godfather—cough—Elder Chen lent it to me.” Chen Sheng gave a polite cough.
“……”
So he had connections. Oh—never mind then.
Lin Shuang’s expression turned subtly odd.
“He knew I was practicing the Thousand-Fold Waterwave Sword. He lent me the Flowing Cloud Wine Cup. It can release three thousand streams of water per day.”
“I practiced cutting water with my sword every day.”
The wine cup was a cultivation artifact—high-grade tier two.
“And now, it’s gone before even a month had passed,” Chen Sheng said, pained.
Even with a powerful backer, there were plenty of Chen-named disciples in the sect. His godfather had other disciples to support.
Losing the artifact meant he couldn’t ask for another—not anytime soon.
Otherwise, the other adopted sons would throw a fit.
“Sigh. I lost it after returning from a mission.”
“I’d just completed a B-rank task. I was utterly exhausted, but still dragged myself to report in…”
Chen Sheng frowned.
“You left the wine cup in your cave?”
Meng Zi had guessed it.
Yet another cave theft.
“Impossible!”
But Chen Sheng refuted angrily, flustered. “Do I look that stupid? A wine cup artifact worth thirty thousand spirit stones—why would I leave it in my cave instead of carrying it with me? My cave doesn’t even have defensive arrays!”
Meng Zi froze. Even Huangfu Yuan paused, his fingertip halting on the rim of his teacup.
Chen Sheng’s case was different from the previous two.
He hadn’t been robbed inside his cave?
Lin Shuang raised an eyebrow. “Then you lost it at the administrative office?”
“No. After I turned in my mission there, I went to the Transmission Hall to exchange a technique manual. Ran into a few Junior Brothers and Sisters who wanted to hear about my mission, so we sat at the dining hall for a bit. Then I was parched, so we went to the teahouse by Rong Bao Pavilion. After that, near sunset, I headed to the Healing Pavilion for treatment…”
“……”
Lin Shuang’s eyelid twitched.
Busy guy.
He’d basically run circles around the entire Inner Sect map—north, south, east, and west.
Finally, Chen Sheng took a deep breath and concluded, “On the way back to my cave from the Healing Pavilion, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder.”
“But when I turned around, there were several disciples behind me—none of whom looked like they had touched me.”
He frowned.
“That’s when I knew something was wrong. I checked my pouch—and the wine cup was gone!”
“I suspect someone followed me from the administrative office and waited for the right moment to strike.”
Lin Shuang held her forehead. Whoever was tailing him had quite the endurance—half the Inner Sect map and no payoff?
If it were her, she’d have just bagged the guy and carried him off.
Ridiculous. Zero planning.
Such an inefficient route.
As Chen Sheng rambled on, he felt a chill down his neck.
Turning around, he found Lin Shuang watching him with a crisp, eight-tooth smile.
“So who knew about your wine cup? And that you’d just returned from a mission, dead tired?”
“Plenty of people! My Junior Brothers, and everyone at the admin office, dining hall, teahouse, Transmission Hall, Healing Pavilion—there were tons of people!”
“……”
Lin Shuang closed her eyes.
“So basically, you went on a victory tour, bragging about your artifact and how awesome your B-rank mission was.”
Meng Zi finally had enough. He looked at Chen Sheng with deadpan exhaustion.
“Got it. Within a hundred-mile radius, there’s probably no one who doesn’t know.”
The man had practically invited the thief in with open arms.
“All right, are we done here?”
Chen Sheng, feeling thoroughly called out, jumped up to shoo them off.
“I have to go to Zhenchuan. The kitchen disciples are bringing lunch soon. I don’t have time to chat anymore.”
Before he even finished, Lin Shuang was already on her feet.
Clearly, she’d concluded early on that this conversation held little value.
Before leaving, she played Xiao Ai’s standard auto-reply one more time:
“…You’ll be notified if we receive any updates.”
Meng Zi and Huangfu Yuan were already used to this. Both mounted their swords.
Lin Shuang stepped onto hers, collecting Xiao Ai into her sleeve on the way up.
“He wasn’t robbed in his cave.”
Meng Zi, flying alongside them, attempted to analyze.
“Unlike Dao Xi. Feels more like he flaunted too much and got targeted out of envy. Maybe it wasn’t even a thief.”
Huangfu Yuan nodded.
It was the same even among demons: in a pack of wolves, only the alpha could be flashy. Others who acted high and mighty? Doomed.
They soared away from Cave Dwelling No. 500.
Chen Sheng stood at his cave entrance for a moment. Soon, a few people approached.
“Senior Brother.” Chen Sheng quickly stood to greet them.
Chen Xingchuan walked in with a sword strapped to his back and strings of cave keys hanging at his waist.
Chen Sheng looked on in envy.
“What did that Outer Sect disciple Lin Shuang ask you?” Chen Xingchuan asked immediately.
Chen Sheng told him everything. “Senior Brother, you have to beat them. The first to solve the Zhenchuan case gets the most reward.”
Chen Xingchuan smiled and nodded. He turned, handing Lin Shuang’s list of questions to two teammates behind him.
All three were at the peak of Foundation Establishment Stage Four. They had taken on this mission: Help Your Senior Brother Find His Lost Treasure.
Regardless of cultivation, their Inner Sect connections far surpassed Lin Shuang’s.
They weren’t going to let her take the lead again.
Otherwise, the mid- and low-ranked Inner Sect disciples would become the Outer Sect’s laughingstock!
“Those were her questions?”
“Some things we hadn’t considered. Some matched ours.”
Chen Xingchuan held a message stone. “Senior Brother Xu Xiang provided a list of 216 disciples with reported thefts. Let’s divide them up.”
“Hiss—Senior Brother Chen, we have to ask every single one? That’s way too many…”
“Yeah, most of them are in Zhenchuan—we might not even find them.”
“Don’t you have Junior Brothers and Sisters?”
Chen Xingchuan smiled at them.
It was rest day in Zhenchuan. Many low-ranked disciples had already reached their limits.
“Same questions, same clues—if we three just ask faster than Lin Shuang’s group, no way she takes the lead again!”
“We still have over a hundred left…”
Meng Zi was starting to get tired of flying.
Their list also had over two hundred reported victims.
Filtering out those who lost under three hundred spirit stones left about 120. Still a lot.
“Maybe we should split up?” Meng Zi suggested. “Each of us takes forty?”
Each case was different. And the more stolen items they recovered, the more reward spirit stones they’d receive from the administrative office.
“No need.”
Lin Shuang checked her schedule.
Listening to legends, stories, and cultivating—her Pomodoro timer for “storytime” was over.
“It’s time to show our true speed.”
“?”
She looked to Huangfu Yuan. “Does Rong Bao Pavilion sell messenger paper cranes?”
These cranes were the low-budget version of sword-transmitted messages.
They could carry small notes or objects. Inexpensive, and quite handy—as long as you weren’t worried about loss.
Rong Bao Pavilion’s cranes were top-tier, made in collaboration with Clearwater Sect’s Inner Division.
Each one was practically synced with the sect’s spiritual recognition system.
Within a hundred miles, they could track a disciple’s spiritual signature and deliver the message.
And they were cheap.
Basic, non-defensive models—ten cranes for one spirit stone.
But frugal types like Meng Zi would never think to use them.
“Just the cheapest kind?” Huangfu Yuan walked into the shop and pulled a thick stack from the first D-rank shelf.
“Mm.”
Lin Shuang nodded.
“You should’ve said so earlier. We wouldn’t have had to track down Dao Xi or Chen Sheng.”
That earned him Lin Shuang’s praise.
“Senior Brother, your efficiency mindset truly aligns with mine.”
“……”
What next? Were monkeys learning to use tools too?
Huangfu Yuan’s lip twitched imperceptibly.
“But those three interviews were to establish a standard question template.”
Huangfu Yuan raised an eyebrow.
Meng Zi didn’t get it—and refused. “Why waste money? Writing all that by hand is exhausting! Transmission stones are faster! We’re not even delivering anything!”
But Lin Shuang’s next move shut him up instantly.
In one sweep, Xiao Ai’s lion-dog talisman flew from her sleeve.
One. Two. Three…
Twelve of them!
Meng Zi: “!”
Huangfu Yuan: “……”
No one had expected her to own so many.
“Xiao Ai Units One through Twelve, listen to my command. Mass message template as follows—”
“!”
“Stolen Item Investigation with Rewards:
Question 1 – When was your item lost?
Question 2 – …”
As she spoke, the twelve Xiao Ai talismans flew to twelve columns of paper cranes.
Click-clack-click-clack… like printers, stamping identical questions onto the message slips attached to the cranes.
Lin Shuang closed her eyes.
In an instant, her 108 spiritual threads activated the cranes—sending them flying from Rong Bao Pavilion in all directions.
“That’s more like it.”
She reopened her eyes, her threads retracting like silk.
“Mass template messaging—use it.”
“!”
“Even with 108 contacts, no problem.”
“……”
“W-wait,” Meng Zi gasped. “Your spiritual sense…?! What if they don’t reply? That’s a waste of cranes!”
Ten cranes for one spirit stone—gone if no reply.
Lin Shuang had 108 threads of spiritual sense?!
He didn’t even know which part of that to panic about.
She gave a casual nod. “That’s why it’s a rewarded survey.”
【Investigation: Rewards for Stolen Item Info】
【Fill it out and spin the wheel for a prize!】
【1. Tour of the 9000th-level cave (1 hour)
2. Tour of the 8000th-level cave (1 hour)
…
7. Thank you for participating
8. Thank you for participating】
“!”
In Zhenchuan’s rest caves and trial levels, paper cranes descended gently onto disciples’ shoulders.
At first, people ignored them. “Why not just message me? Who has time to write a reply?”
But when they saw the reward wheel—everything changed.
“Tour of the 9000-level cave?!”
“They’re giving out caves!? Oh—it’s just a one-hour tour. Still, I’ll take it!”
“What? ‘Thank you for participating’? Can I fill it out again?!”
“Shishu1, my Senior Sister wants to see you.”
In the rest cave of level 3000, Zhao Keran ran over to a pink-robed woman, flailing her arms.
“My Senior Sister says most of the victims are wealthy, talented, and well-connected.”
“These are your top future clients for premium caves.”
“I helped you advertise to all 126 of them.”
“You’re so smart, Shishu—you will reimburse me, right?”
The pink-robed woman: “!”
Veins popping, she glanced at the list.
A moment later, ten premium cave keys flew from Zhenchuan—delivered by paper cranes!
“What if they don’t return them?!”
“126 cranes—that’s thirteen spirit stones!”
Meng Zi paced around Rong Bao Pavilion in agony.
He didn’t even care about Lin Shuang’s absurd spiritual sense anymore.
Huangfu Yuan lounged in a bamboo chair, pale fingers to his temple. “Brother, it’s only been one cup of tea.”
“Have some patience. You’re making me dizzy.”
“But I’m anxious—”
Before they could finish, the sound of flapping paper filled the air.
They looked up, stunned.
Over a hundred palm-sized paper cranes surged into the first floor of Rong Bao Pavilion!
Through windows, doorways, even down from the second floor—
They were buried in a flurry of wings.
“!”
Lin Shuang smiled. “As expected of our Inner Sect Senior Brothers and Sisters. That speed… impressive.”
“……”
Meng Zi flipped upright like a carp. Huangfu Yuan sat up straight.
“Forty replies each?”
Lin Shuang shook her head.
“Xiao Ai, activate spider-crawling function!”
“???”
【Beep. Xiao Ai Web Crawler at your service…】
【Time of Theft – 134 replies detected: ‘after breakthrough’ 38 mentions, ‘post-mission’ 31, ‘celebration’ 20, ‘cultivation technique’ 17, ‘closed-door training’ 15.】
【Location of Theft – 115 mentions of ‘cave’, 43 of ‘return trip’…】
Meng Zi’s jaw dropped.
After a few seconds of silence, Lin Shuang opened her eyes.
“I think I know who the thief is.”
Huangfu Yuan sat upright and smiled. “I think I know the range of suspects.”
They spoke in unison. Paused. Looked at each other.
“Ladies first?”
“Gentlemen first?”
Again, in unison.
Meng Zi twitched. “???”
What is going on?!
He held his head, tilted his blade, and looked up at the cranes like they were holy relics. His ears flushed red.
“I… uh… maybe, possibly, might know too.”
Lin Shuang and Huangfu Yuan both turned toward him with sudden curiosity.
“Senior Brother Meng, you go first.”
“You go ahead, Junior Brother Meng.”
“……”
Meng Zi clutched his blade.
Screw all of this.
Author’s Note:
“Sect Leader Zhao’s Journal 32”: Know what you know. Admit what you don’t. Pretending to know wastes everyone’s time.
Meng Zi: …Shut up!
See you tomorrow.
- Shishu: A respectful form of address for a Martial Uncle or Aunt, referring to a member of the same sect who is one generation below one’s master (Shifu), but senior to the speaker. It is gender-neutral in usage and typically used to address or refer to fellow disciples of one’s master, especially when their exact status or name is not specified. ↩︎