The next morning, when the system saw the social media post along with Ji Nian, it teased: [If you had taken a photo of the flower he gave you and posted it too, Ji Tingzhou would’ve spanked you hard the moment you got home today.]
Ji Nian: ?
[What’s wrong with you, system? Sure, our princess has a temper, but he doesn’t just randomly hit kids. How would posting something get me spanked?]
The system replied gleefully: [Because it’d look like a middle-school love confession~]
Ji Nian: “……”
No sooner had she finished speaking than her feed refreshed—Lu Zhi had posted.
The photo showed two small crystal foxes of different colors nestled together. The photographer had a good eye, capturing the perfect lighting to highlight their best angles.
The caption read: ‘Good morning, the scented candle made by Nianbao [rose][rose].’
Ji Nian grinned, immediately liking it and commenting, “Glad you like it~”
[See? Uncle Lu Zhi posted too. Does this look like a love confession to you?]
Just then, her phone buzzed.
A contact saved as “Princess” sent two screenshots—Lu Zhi’s and Lu Jinghuai’s posts—without a single word, but the accusatory tone was palpable.
The system drawled: [Fine, not a love confession. More like meeting the parents.]
Ji Nian closed her eyes.
You’ve lost it.
[Don’t tarnish our pure friendship.]
Besides, judging by the little crown prince’s innocent demeanor, he probably didn’t even know what romance was.
...
Upon returning home, the first thing Ji Tingzhou said to Ji Nian was, “You gave them my scented candle?”
Ji Nian: “……”
“It’s different, Dad! Yours is one-of-a-kind, not like theirs. Yours is the only one in the world—the ones for Lu Jinghuai and the others are simpler.”
Dropping her things, Ji Nian’s first priority was appeasing her father.
Ji Tingzhou scoffed, turning away to sit on the sofa with his arms crossed, ignoring her.
This “anger” was truly monumental—lasting a whole ten minutes.
Ji Nian pulled out all the little souvenirs she’d bought for him in Country O, showering him with sweet talk until the esteemed Princess Ji Tingzhou finally relented.
The trinkets were nothing special.
At his status, Ji Tingzhou could have anything he wanted; these odds and ends might as well have been junk in his eyes.
But because Ji Nian had thought of him, even these “junk” items were elevated to “Ji Nian’s junk”—a distinction that mattered.
After distributing her haul, Ji Nian bragged to Zhiliao, “This dress is perfect for you—like it was made with your name on it. The shopkeeper tried to scam me as a foreigner, but my Country O skills came in clutch—haggled the price down by half!”
She tilted her chin up, proud.
(Though most of the haggling credit went to He Xiang, who whispered strategies while Ji Nian translated them into Country O’s language.)
Zhiliao tried on the dress immediately, twirling for her.
Click.
A camera shutter sounded nearby.
Ji Nian turned to see a woman in the Ji family’s maid uniform snapping photos of Zhiliao with her phone.
Before Ji Nian could wonder why she looked familiar, Zhiliao introduced, “This is Mei.”
The very assassin sent by their organization to eliminate Zhiliao.
Before Ji Nian could react, Mei—now unmasked, her face unexpectedly sweet (when not deranged)—flashed over and bowed deeply.
“Greetings, esteemed young miss. I am a newly hired maid of the Ji household,” she said with solemn reverence.
“I have renounced my past, shed my old identity, and risen from the ashes.”
“The assassin Mei is no more. Now, I am but a humble servant—Wang Xiaofang.”
With a shy smile, she added, “You may call me Xiaofang, young miss.”
Ji Nian: “……”
Who are you?
Sensing her confusion, Zhiliao patted her head. “Training results.”
(Though Ji Nian suspected she meant “brainwashing results.”)
Nearby, Wang Xiaofang remained mid-bow, peeking up with starry eyes.
As expected of the senior sister! She can pat the young miss’s head like the family head!
Ji Nian shuddered inexplicably.
Later, she learned that during her absence, the captured assassins—aside from the defiant few—had eagerly spilled everything, even revealing their organization’s coordinates, after asking if the Ji family was hiring.
The interrogation had turned into a job fair, with You Er summoning Zhiliao: Any idea why?
Now, after Zhiliao led the raid that dismantled their organization’s base, these assassins were under her management.
Ji Nian was speechless…
So even killers could be bought.
What she didn’t know was how tough the assassin life had become. In the past, veterans could transmigrate upon death to become icy consorts or domineering empresses—but now? Death was just death.
The transmigration train had left their profession behind.
Slaving away for meager pay (most spent on gear), they’d barely afford the organization’s poison-suppressing drugs.
Now, under new employment, their first perk was full detox—especially when they learned the antidotes were part of Ji Nian’s research projects.
Their savior…
Walking down the hallway, Ji Nian suddenly shivered.
Shiver…
[Why do I feel someone’s fanatical gaze?]
After lazing at home for half a day, Ji Nian grew bored and headed straight to her lab.
Before school started, she wanted more time to study the corpses.
Yes, the ones from when Mu Xiu had suddenly appeared at the ski resort.
Her suspicions were confirmed.
These “people”—if they could even be called that—were all clones.
Their biological data resembled Ji Xi’s, though far inferior.
No humanity, no emotions, some with uncoordinated limbs, and a lifespan capped at two years under Mu Xiu’s usage.
[After all this research… peak performance right out the gate.]
So far, no clone surpassed Ji Xi’s success.
Speaking of Ji Xi…
Since he’d originated from her and saved her in the end, Ji Nian planted red spider lilies—said to guide lost souls—over his grave.
May he find the right path to the underworld and be reborn.
