“Do as I say, and I’ll make sure you soar to the top.”
——When Chen Baoxiang heard these words, she thought she was hallucinating.
At that moment, there was no one around her, only moonlight filtering through the window, illuminating a slanted drift of floating dust.
She sat within that dust, thinking in despair — what did “soaring to the top” even mean right now? She didn’t even know if she could make it out of here alive.
“You can.”
The voice repeated slowly: “With me here, you can.”
With a startled jolt, Chen Baoxiang sat upright and looked left and right.
“Don’t bother searching. No one but you can hear me, and no one can see me. And besides me, there is no one else who can save you.”
A faint, floating voice, carrying absolute certainty.
Drawing a sharp breath, Chen Baoxiang hurriedly knelt up and pressed her palms together: “Great Immortal, save me — I’ve been wrongly accused, I truly am not an assassin!”
He knew, of course, that she was not an assassin.
The assassin was a death warrior he had carefully selected over half a year — fast and precise in action. How could they possibly be like her, running and stumbling about wildly at a banquet, and even implicating him in getting struck by a long arrow?
If he had simply died cleanly from that arrow, so be it — but instead, when he opened his eyes again, he found himself inside this woman’s body. He had thought it over front and back and truly could not make sense of it, so he finally spoke up —
“If you are not the assassin, then why were you masked and carrying a dagger?”
“Great Immortal, please see clearly.” Chen Baoxiang made gestures with a miserable little face. “The assassin used a feathered arrow — that has nothing to do with me. The veil is decoration, and the dagger is for dancing. It’s a masked dagger dance — I spent three hundred copper coins learning it from someone.”
“But your dagger had a sharpened blade.”
“So what if it’s sharpened? All the daggers sold at the market have sharpened blades.”
“Don’t dancers have specially made, unsharpened daggers for performing?”
Chen Baoxiang looked aggrieved: “They do, but an ordinary dagger only costs a hundred copper coins, while a specially made dance dagger costs four hundred. Far too expensive — the money I save on that could pay for learning another dance routine.”
“But your name wasn’t on the guest list at all. How did you get into the banquet?”
Chen Baoxiang hesitated a little. The matter was, after all, embarrassing to admit.
But thinking of her current predicament — on the verge of losing her life — she honestly spoke up: “I spent eight hundred copper coins to bribe a kitchen boy, and hid inside a slop cart to get in.”
The voice sounded faintly incredulous: “A slop bucket?”
“It was a last resort.” She gave a dry laugh. “Who told this banquet to gather so many high officials and noble dignitaries? If I could make a name for myself with a single dance, wouldn’t I be set for life?”
The voice fell silent, as if thinking something over.
Chen Baoxiang probed carefully: “Great Immortal, you can save me, right?”
The other party gave a light, indifferent sound of agreement.
She let out a long breath and immediately patted her chest: “Once your faithful devotee is out of here, I will surely have a new gilded statue made in your honor.”
Then, a little self-conscious, she added: “Just gold paint should be fine, right? I truly cannot afford gold leaf.”
The Great Immortal seemed to be laughing despite himself, and after a long pause, said: “I don’t need a gilded statue. Just do as I say.”
Chen Baoxiang immediately listened with respectful attention.
But as she listened, she froze — her hand slowly, incredulously, pointed at the tip of her own nose: “Me?”
“Didn’t you understand?” he said. “Only by doing this can you escape danger.”
This would indeed get her out of danger.
But still.
Chen Baoxiang laughed and cried at the same time: “Great Immortal, if I actually knew that person, would I need to hide in a slop bucket? He’s the one who hosted this banquet.”
“I never said to actually know him.” The voice paused. “Don’t you know how to lie?”
“I do, but there are so many people in Shangjing who want to claim connections with him. Even if I say that, no one will believe me.”
“Try first, then we’ll see.”
“But…”
Before she could explain further, someone suddenly passed outside the prison cell.
Chen Baoxiang immediately fell silent and turned to look — she saw the banquet’s guests filing out of the interrogation room, all heading toward the exit.
“Well, well.” Someone noticed her inside the cell and turned on their heel to stop.
“Isn’t this the legitimate daughter of the Chen Family?”
That singsong, sarcastic tone instantly drew everyone’s gaze.
“It really is.” Someone leaned in to look. “The Chen Family’s legitimate daughter — rich and powerful family, mother from a prestigious clan, father with ten thousand gold in fortune, eating abalone and ginseng every day — and yet you’re so impressive, how are you still locked up? Has no one from your family come to vouch for you?”
The words fell, and outside there broke a wave of mocking laughter.
Chen Baoxiang thought inwardly: This is bad — but kept up appearances, lifting her chin to face them: “My status is high, so naturally I am waiting to see the chief examiner privately.”
“Status high, she says.” Lu Qingrong covered her lips and laughed out loud. “I saw your household registration in there — a village girl from Sanxiang in Yuexian, yet you strut around all day putting on airs like a noble lady.”
This cell is actually leaking household registration records.