Who said the eldest daughter is crazy? She's clearly a woman of high rank and influence in the

Helian Jing looked at her, and when she said "I don't remember," the confusion in her eyes was genuine.

Her right arm was still trembling slightly. The explosive force she had just unleashed had exhausted all the reserves in her frail body, and she could no longer even clench her fist.

But what he saw on the rooftop just now was clearly her.

Moonlight streamed in through the window cracks, illuminating the scabs on her forehead, the wound on her hand, and the dark red bloodstains on the hem of her clothes.

I don't remember, but I can do it. I don't know what I'm good at, but when I do move, it's a deadly move.

One body, two souls.

A girl who is mistaken by outsiders for a madwoman with dissociative identity disorder has another person living inside her body. That person takes over her body while she is asleep, shields her from all dangers, and then retreats, leaving her with no memory of anything.

But what he had just witnessed made him feel uneasy.

Dual souls are a passive defense, only appearing in response to danger. But her counterattack just now was too precise, so precise that it was as if that person didn't need to take over her body at all, and could make her limbs react on their own.

Helian Jing slowly narrowed his eyes.

The dual-soul nature of her being one body can explain her sometimes chaotic and sometimes sharp transformations. But beyond her retaliatory reactions, she also knows many other things, even without ever leaving her home.

When she faced a group of people questioning her in the ancestral hall, she was as composed as someone accustomed to holding power.

Last night, she bit herself until her hands were covered in blood, enduring the pain without uttering a sound.

Just now, she was clutching broken porcelain in her hand, covered in blood, and the flame in her eyes seemed to burn through the darkness for a moment.

Helian Jing couldn't figure out what was going on either; his gaze fell on the two cuts on her tiger's mouth.

He took out the bottle of wound medicine he had used the night before from his waist, poured a little onto his fingertip, pulled her right hand over, and applied the powder to the wound. She hissed in pain and frowned, but did not pull her hand away.

"You owe me this third time," he said.

Xi Yueli's eyelids drooped heavily, her mind returning from the heightened tension. She leaned against the edge of the bed, her head slowly drooping.

Helian Jing helped her back to bed, covered her with the blanket, kicked the blood-stained shard of porcelain to the foot of the bed, picked up the dagger scattered on the ground, weighed it in his hand, and put it into his waistband.

He straightened up and glanced out the window; it was at least another hour until dawn.

He thought for a moment, then sat down again on the floor in front of the bed, leaning against the edge of the bed, closing his eyes, and listening intently to every subtle sound in the room, ready to guard against the assassin's return.

……

The headquarters of the Dark Pavilion.

The candlelight was dim, and the stone walls on all four sides were covered with a dense array of files and iron plaques. The air was filled with the smell of medicinal oil and rust.

A man with his right shoulder hastily bandaged in coarse cloth knelt in the hall, the cloth on his shoulder already soaked with blood.

Three elderly men sat in the hall; they were the elders of the Dark Pavilion.

Two men and one woman, all over fifty years old, with deep wrinkles on their faces and sharp, eagle-like eyes.

The old man in the yellow robe in the middle was playing with a new black iron plaque in his hand. After listening to the report from the kneeling man, the iron plaque suddenly stopped between his fingers.

"What did you say?" the old man in the yellow robe asked.

The assassin lowered his head, his voice unsteady: "I infiltrated the boudoir of the eldest daughter of the Xi family, intending to assassinate her, but before I could succeed, she counterattacked with her bare hands, leaving me with a shard of porcelain in my shoulder, and she was clutching the Pavilion Master's token in her hand."

The three old men in the hall all changed their expressions at the same time. The old woman in black on the left suddenly stood up, her sleeve flipping over and spilling tea all over the floor.

"Did you see clearly? Are there any words on the front?"

"It's engraved with the character 'Yuan' (渊), so it can't be wrong."

The three old men exchanged glances, their eyes filled with barely concealed shock.

The Dark Pavilion Master suddenly disappeared ten years ago, and the token also disappeared. The entire organization was leaderless and split into three factions that hindered each other.

It appeared in the hands of a sickly, sheltered young woman at this moment, just as they sent assassins to kill her.

The old man in the yellow robe slowly sat back in his chair, his fingers, which had been toying with the iron plate, paused. He squinted at the assassin kneeling on the ground, then glanced at the two elders on his left and right.

"The person you're going to kill tonight is carrying the Pavilion Master's token."

Assassin: "I dare not speculate, but—the girl's method of counterattack looks familiar."

"Familiar?" the old woman in black interrupted him. "How so?"

The assassin swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead from the pain in his shoulder. "An elbow strike to the wrist bone right at the ulnar joint, he habitually uses his right side to gain leverage when spinning, and then uses his right hand to strike with the blade in a reverse parry."

"That's the Pavilion Master's style. I've followed her for three years, and I recognize her habitual movements."

The hall was deathly silent. The three old men sat in the candlelight, their faces flickering, and the same doubt swirled in each of their eyes.

A sickly eldest daughter, secluded in her chambers, clutches the missing Pavilion Master's token in her hand, and her body carries the Pavilion Master's fighting memories. Is the Pavilion Master Xi Yue Li, or has their Pavilion Master come back to life by borrowing someone else's body?

The old man in the yellow robe remained silent for a long time. "Don't touch her yet. Cancel the order, and pay the money to the Fang family as usual. Pass down the word: no one is allowed to touch a hair on the head of the Xi family's eldest daughter. Anyone who dares to do so will be treated as a traitor."

The assassin bowed and withdrew. After the door to the secret chamber closed, the old man in the yellow robe turned to look at his two colleagues, the candlelight flickering in his cloudy eyes.

"The token of Lin Yuan Pavilion can be forged. But the fighting style cannot be changed. Our Pavilion Master has never left the Dark Pavilion. Whether he is alive or dead in these ten days, and if he is alive, who has he become—we should go and meet this Miss Xi in person."

Dawn was breaking in Jinxian Courtyard.

Xi Yueli turned over in the blanket, her breathing steady, her brows relaxed.

When she woke up, she clutched the shard of porcelain. The wound on her hand was covered with medicinal powder and was slightly itchy. She looked at the subtle clues in the room and deduced what had happened.

She rewrapped the black iron token in oilcloth and stuffed it under her pillow. Qingdai's footsteps drew closer outside the window. The door of Jinxian Courtyard was pushed open, and the morning light rushed in, washing away the lingering smell of blood from last night.

The following afternoon, Xi Yueli calculated the exact time.

Dinner had just been set out in the front hall, and Xi Mingyuan and Fang Shi were eating together. Most of the servants in the mansion were on duty near the kitchen, while the back alley corner gate was the least guarded.

She changed into an inconspicuous gray cloth dress, casually gathered her hair into a bun, and climbed out of the back window of Jinxian Courtyard.

Her movements as she climbed out of the window were quite clumsy; her knee bumped against the window frame, making her wince in pain, but thankfully she didn't alert the old woman at the gate.

She walked briskly along the base of the wall, and as she passed through the passageway, she bumped into a sweeping servant.

The servant hesitated for a moment, recognizing the young lady. Just as he was about to call out, Xi Yueli suddenly tilted her head, her eyes unfocused, a trickle of saliva running from the corner of her mouth. She mumbled indistinctly, "Butterflies...so many butterflies...there are butterflies on the wall..."

The servant was so frightened by the sight that he took three steps back, dropping the broom in his hand. He turned and ran to report, "The young lady has had another episode! She's run away!"

Xi Yueli wiped her mouth and ran towards the side gate.

Before she even reached the side gate, two burly servants took a shortcut from the moon gate and blocked her way, grabbing her arms on either side and shoving her to the ground.

She struggled twice but couldn't move. Her body was too weak. She hadn't recovered the strength she had from last night's fight, and she couldn't even push a servant away.