“The Imperial City Division’s surely got an Inspectorate spy—how else could we have been thrashed so badly? This cover’s blown; it’s time to switch identities after this!” Qingya snapped coldly.

Xiao Lian’s face hardened, nodding gravely.

They glanced at Xia Chen, sprawled unconscious on the bed. Xiao Lian broke the silence.

“Miss, what’s next? Use illusion to plant clues? But even if he gets them, will he investigate?”

Her tone wavered. Espionage fell to the Lamplighters—would a mere guard commander bother?

“Merit-born sons like him enter officialdom craving grand deeds to prove themselves. The dossier proves he’s not in the guard to coast—results or not, let’s test it. We’ve got to strike first, not let the Inspectorate lead us by the nose!” Qingya said, stepping to the bedside. Her eyes rippled like water, brimming

with strange energy.

“I’ll drag him into a dream, subtly nudge him there. Tomorrow, he’ll head to Chunhua Brothel, find clues we’ve laid, and think his own brilliance sniffed them out—never suspecting he’s our blade!”

A smile curved her lips. Without intel needs tying her to this role, no stinking man would cross her threshold—touching her? Out of the question.

Anyone entering got yanked into her dreamscape—so real it fooled the senses, even bending thoughts.

Crystal light cloaked her, her eyes shimmering with spirit. Two phantom butterflies fluttered from them, drifting into Xia Chen.

But as they sank in, her face paled. In her vision, eyes loomed above—aloof, emotionless, godlike.

Four pupils gleamed, brimming with the Dao’s truths, the world’s ultimate secrets.

Her butterfly-formed soul quaked, iced over.

Next instant, the blue butterflies in Xia Chen’s mind shattered—illusions undone!

Qingya’s eyes snapped open, blood draining from her face, terror lurking deep within. She lurched back.

A broad hand seized her slender, jade-like arm, yanking with force. Unsteady, she toppled onto the bed.

Regaining her wits, she found herself in Xia Chen’s arms, his half-smirk fixed on her.

Faintly, she glimpsed his eyes—pupils merging into one, a black abyss swallowing hearts.

“Release my mistress!”

The shift came too fast. Xiao Lian blinked, then saw Xia Chen’s grip on Qingya’s neck.

But confusion gnawed—hadn’t he succumbed to the illusion, passed out?

Beauty in his arms, soft as jade, should’ve sparked heat—yet neither felt the urge to deepen the moment.

“Didn’t peg the famed Qingya Girl as a potent sorceress. Pulling folks into illusions—can you kill in dreams too?”

Xia Chen asked, intrigued, one hand lifting her smooth chin like a rakish noble toying with a maiden, tilting her flawless face to meet her sapphire eyes still glowing blue.

Their bodies pressed close—breaths apart, mingling on each other’s cheeks.

Goosebumps prickled Qingya’s skin, her flush blooming like she’d downed too much wine.

Xiao Lian, ignored as Xia Chen pawed her mistress, bristled.

Her aura flared—qi and blood surging, taut as a beast primed to pounce.

“One sorceress, one Seventh-Rank warrior—Imperial City Division. Who’d guess tiny Qingya Xiaozhu hides such depths?”

Xia Chen stayed unruffled, brazenly tracing her perfect face. His fingers grazed her silken skin, sending scalding heat through her—a magic she’d never felt.

“You never slept—heard it all. Impossible—you drank the tea and wine, laced with sedatives!”

Qingya, forcing calm, sensed control slipping. Fear flickered—would he ruin her purity? She spoke, desperate to distract.

Tonight, she’d doubled down—drugs in the tea and wine, her Division’s colorless brew, plus her pupil arts—yet he stood unscathed.

“Maybe I’m just too hardy—your dose was light!”

Xia Chen quipped. His system scanned all intakes, blocking harm—his body, a fortress against poison.

Qingya froze—dose too light? What?

“The courtyard’s ours—you won’t escape. Be smart, let her go, or else…”

“Or what—you’ll take me on? Sure you can subdue me in a split second under these conditions? With just your Seventh-Rank?”

Xia Chen looked up, sizing Xiao Lian. A young maid, yet Seventh-Rank Spirit Refining—Qingya’s clout dwarfed his guesses. No small fry in the Division—he’d hooked a whale tonight!

He pressed, “Go ahead—strike. Or call the yard’s crew. Maybe a Sixth- or Fifth-Rank lurks out there to pin me. Two pointers, though.”

“First, they’re likely Division too—not your lackeys. Them seeing your mistress tangled with me like this? Word spreads, don’t blame me.”

“Second, curfew’s on. Lamplighters and guards patrol nearby. A fight here—think their top dogs won’t sense it instantly?”

Xia Chen grinned, reckless, pinching Qingya’s silky cheek again.

He’d let Xia Qian and Li Xi leave, staying solo, banking on his skills and the capital’s watch.