The pressure from the father

As she voiced the question, Mù Qīngyǔ was already certain of the truth. Yet she still needed the confirmation of these two elders, who stood before her with bowed heads.

The elders didn’t look particularly surprised. Even if she hadn’t asked, they would have brought it up themselves. After all, they had crossed half the Sacred Dynasty to reach Wufeng City just to find her.

“It is the Court Lord’s order.”

“As expected—Father.”

Mù Qīngyǔ’s face remained expressionless as she twirled a lock of her white hair around a slender finger.

She had known her father would investigate her whereabouts. But she was curious about what method he had used to discover her in Wufeng City. She thought her disguise as Qín Yuè had been flawless—no one should have linked the two identities. If she could figure out how he tracked her, she might find a countermeasure. After all, to break free from the Four Sacred Courts, she couldn’t have her father’s eyes on her back forever.

“So, you’ve come to take me back?”

“No. The Court Lord only ordered us to confirm your safety,” one elder replied. “You don’t have to return home for now.”

“Good.” Mù Qīngyǔ breathed a sigh of relief. The escape plan she had prepared in advance could be saved for another time.

The elders also secretly relaxed, seeing that she wasn’t angry. In the past, she would have thrown a tantrum regardless, then run home to tattle to her father. But today, she seemed unusually understanding. They couldn’t fathom the reason, only assuming that her prolonged time away had broadened her temperament.

Since the master of the Azure Dragon Court wasn’t stopping her, Mù Qīngyǔ could continue to spend her limited time outside focusing on Xǔ Tiānlí.

“However, the Court Lord also asked us to pass along a message.”

“What?”

“He said you may continue to play outside, but you must watch your safety. And…” The elder paused. “He hopes you won’t forget your father, and that the Four Sacred Courts is your true home. The Court Lord will always watch over you.”

As his words fell, the rooftop fell silent, save for the clamor of the street below.

Mù Qīngyǔ pursed her lips slightly and replied with a flat, “Oh,” like a child who couldn’t care less about her father’s advice.

In truth, she was barely holding back her panic.

These seemingly tender words—were they not a threat?

Others might miss it, but Mù Qīngyǔ couldn’t. Thanks to the fragmentary memories of her predecessor, she understood the subtext behind her father’s words.

The first part wasn’t the point. She knew well enough whether her father truly cared for her. The real weight lay in that last sentence.

‘He will always watch me?’

That meant he hadn’t used anyone else to find her—he had done it himself.

That was trouble. She hadn’t anticipated the worst-case scenario.

Before leaving, she had meticulously checked every item on her person, leaving behind anything that could serve as a tracking device in her bedroom. Yet even so, her father had easily located her.

She had even considered the possibility that he had planted something on her body. She had examined herself thoroughly during baths, finding no scars or birthmarks that could be used.

‘Could it be because we share the same blood—a blood connection that allows him to sense my location?’

She unconsciously gripped her pale arm, feeling the smooth skin.

If that were the case, she would have to consider following the heroine of a novel she had read: to escape her villainous father, she would extract the noble blood from her veins.

“Anything else?”

Mù Qīngyǔ noticed the two elders still lingering.

“No.”

“Then get lost. Don’t disturb my enjoyment of the show.”

“Understood.”

Finally, the annoyances left. But the girl’s tense face didn’t relax one bit.

She leaned against the railing. The colorful neon lights reflected in her eyes but seemed to sink into a lightless abyss.

The evening breeze brushed against her, lifting her snow-white hair—a beautiful sight.

‘So even with the protagonist’s treatment from a novel, I still have to lie low?’

She couldn’t act rashly now. Even if replacing all her blood could free her from her father’s surveillance, now wasn’t the time.

At this stage, her father was likely watching her every move. Any suspicious action would trigger a response, leaving her with no escape.

‘I need to get stronger. The pressure is immense.’

The girl propped her chin on her hand and let out a heavy sigh.

It wasn’t just for the three-year agreement, but also to survive the life-or-death situation five years from now.

As far as she remembered, her father was even stronger than those two elders. That meant he was a Tier-5 Spirit Wielder, right?

The highest authority in the Four Sacred Courts, the Sacred King, was a Tier-6 Dominator. It wasn’t strange for the four Court Lords, who were second only to him, to be Tier-5.

The girl extended one leg over the railing and swayed it slowly.

Whatever new crises the court might bring in the future, at least she was safe for now.

Though the hotel wasn’t far, she couldn’t be bothered to go back. It was as if she had lost all motivation.

Just then, her phone vibrated in her pocket.

Who would contact her at this hour?

She had gotten a new account, so she knew who it must be.

A message from Xǔ Tiānlí, two lines:

“Master, when are you coming back?”

“Dinner is ready. Are you coming back to eat?”

Why did he ask the same thing twice?

Mù Qīngyǔ couldn’t help but laugh at his foolishness. It was as if she could see his clueless expression through those words.

If nothing else, teasing the young virgin was always entertaining.

She wasn’t exactly the most virtuous person. Now that she had a female body, she intended to make him blush and stammer as much as possible.

After chuckling like a smug little brat, her thumb hovered over the screen, then slid down.

Her eyes, which had failed to reflect the neon lights, now seemed illuminated by those two sentences, brightening once more.

She typed several replies, but deleted them all before sending. Too many words didn’t fit Qín Yuè’s persona.

After some thought, she decided to reply with two lines:

“Now.”

“I’ll be back now to eat.”

Wait, that’s wrong—why did she also say two things that meant exactly the same?

Damn, was she being assimilated by Xǔ Tiānlí?

She grumbled but didn’t retract the message. Instead, she hummed a cheerful tune and left the rooftop, where only the wind howled.

Perhaps it was because the twice-cooked pork on the table was Xǔ Tiānlí’s improved second attempt, or maybe she was just in a good mood—either way, she ate an extra large bowl of rice.