Begonia Hairpin

Returning to the dorm at night, neither Tang Yueling nor Tianning was there.

Su Qing finished preparing Yuanbao’s literacy materials and ran cycles of the *Clear Mind Technique*. That familiar frustration lingered—just one step shy of inducing qi into her body.

With no solution, she reviewed her sword manual, dissecting each move meticulously. Still not sleepy, she practiced the Breath Concealment Technique.

The technique’s essence was blending into the environment: a leaf in a forest, a drop in a river. On her bed, Su Qing imagined herself a pillow.

She was good at this, having spent a childhood often pretending to be invisible. Soon, she grasped the knack. Her breathing quieted, her heartbeat and pulse slowed to a crawl.

She wasn’t on the bed to rest—she *was* the pillow.

This mystical sensation lasted until her legs numbed, and she shifted.

A *clank* sounded outside the bed curtains.

Peeking out, Su Qing wondered if a roommate had returned.

Neither.

It was Tang Shitao. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

She was frantically picking something up from the floor, startled by Su Qing, causing her to drop it.

Though she tried to hide it, Su Qing saw: Tang Yueling’s red jade crabapple hairpin.

It looked like a hairpin but was a high-grade Foundation Establishment artifact.

Tang Shitao raised her voice unnaturally. “What are you doing here?”

Su Qing caught her panic. “My dorm. Where else would I be?”

“You didn’t make a sound!” Tang Shitao steadied herself. “I’m grabbing something for Yueling.”

“You came in silent as a ghost,” Su Qing said. “I didn’t know either. Thought this was *your* dorm.”

Was that the same?

Tang Shitao thought: *I’m at Qi Refining fifth layer, trained in agile techniques, moving soundlessly. Su Qing hasn’t even induced qi—a mere mortal.* Cultivators had sharp senses, breathing pure qi, while mortals were clumsy, reeking of turbid qi. How could she miss a mortal? She must be too restless lately.

Standing, Tang Shitao smoothed her hair, placing the hairpin back on Tang Yueling’s desk. Turning, her peach-blossom eyes shone with sincerity. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that.”

“How should I talk?”

“If you don’t know your place, you’ll suffer.”

Su Qing stood, meeting her gaze calmly. “What’s that mean? Care to elaborate?”

“Yueling’s kind, but you should know what to say and what not to,” Tang Shitao said with a light laugh. “Like the Guan Clan’s tea party—we drank upstairs with Yueling. You? Serving downstairs. People aren’t the same. Don’t think living here or crossing the mortal-immortal line makes you our equal.”

Su Qing didn’t argue. “The stuff you’re fetching for Yueling includes that hairpin?”

Tang Shitao’s face twisted, her sweet smile vanishing. “I told you—know what to say and what not to.”

“I know your type,” she continued, “and it makes you even more repulsive.”

Stepping closer, her tone light but flat, “Who do you think Yueling would side with? A mortal she’s known a few days, or the sister who grew up with her, cheering her, staying by her side?”

Su Qing stayed silent. Tang Shitao smirked, as if victorious.

Picking up the hairpin, she tossed it back carelessly. “Stuff like this? If I ask, Yueling gives me as much as I want. Don’t overestimate yourself.”

Grabbing a sword tassel from the curio shelf, Tang Shitao left swiftly.

Su Qing knew her words had struck a nerve, but she hadn’t expected Tang Shitao to crumble so fast, unloading her trump card.

Picking up the hairpin, Su Qing examined it. Worthy of an artifact—despite the fall, the red jade crabapple was vivid, uncracked.

She placed it back on Tang Yueling’s desk.

If Tang Shitao hadn’t spoken, she might’ve stayed discreet, but now Su Qing understood: Tang Shitao had likely been using Tang Yueling’s things for a while.

The Red Rust Sword cutting Tang Shitao’s hair probably wasn’t unprovoked—it lashed out, only to be blamed. Its fiery temperament, seeing Tang Yueling side with Tang Shitao, must’ve infuriated it, explaining its absence.

But the root issue was Tang Yueling. Everything tied back to her.

Tang Shitao feared losing Tang Yueling’s favor, clinging too tightly. Su Qing, too busy to meddle, wouldn’t stir trouble—that’d be asking for pain.

Tang Yueling wasn’t naive. Su Qing doubted she was blind to the situation, just delaying a decision.

Tang Shitao was dead wrong: this wasn’t about Su Qing versus her, but a clash between Tang Yueling’s natal sword and her childhood friend.

One thing thrilled Su Qing, though.

“Tang Shitao’s Qi Refining fifth layer and didn’t notice me. This Breath Concealment Technique is legit.” She felt like she’d struck gold. “Perfect for lowering my presence.”

Next time she saw that fat cat, she’d treat it to meat.

Lots of meat.

—

Three weeks passed.

Su Qing juggled sword practice, body refinement, cafeteria work, tea shop shifts, and meal deliveries. Her delivery business grew, adding new clients and expanding to courier services.

Her energy expenditure was massive, so she set a new food budget: 30 spirit seeds daily. Yet, with more income streams, her savings didn’t dip—they climbed steadily to 3,640 seeds, or 36 spirit stones, inching toward her 500-stone sword.

She’d slimmed down—not from dieting, but training. No defined muscles yet, but the flabby fat was nearly gone. @Infinite Good Reads, Only at Jinjiang Literature City

Calluses formed on her palms and knuckles; every muscle ached or swelled—a testament to her effort.

Her body was transforming: arms stronger, thighs firmer.

She could even do three consecutive pull-ups.

But her cultivation stalled at qi induction. She’d brushed the elusive threshold several times but failed to cross it, lacking the knack.

The Breath Concealment Technique, however, progressed. She tested it in various settings—not invisible, but her presence faded. At the tea shop, she used it around Lin, who missed her despite barking orders, until her giggle gave her away. Lin wondered if his eyes were failing to miss “big ol’ Su Qing.”

All in all, she spent the month toiling but fulfilled.

She could say, guilt-free, she gave her all to cultivation daily.

So, she decided to reward herself by writing to Xiu Fu.

Sending a letter cost a steep five spirit stones, but after a month, she missed Xiu Fu and wanted to know how she was doing back home.

What Su Qing didn’t expect was running into someone surprising while sending the letter.

</xaiArtifact>