As sunlight spilled through the window and fell across the figure curled atop the bed, her lashes fluttered, and she slowly opened her eyes.
"Mmm…"
A-Ling yawned, wiping at the corners of her eyes. She pushed herself up, stretched until her back cracked lightly, then padded to the washroom to rinse her face and brush her teeth.
When she returned to her room, she opened her wardrobe and hesitated for a moment before choosing a simple outfit that suited her workdays: a pale inner blouse with long sleeves, a soft green over-robe that tied at the waist, and a dark skirt that wouldn't show dust too easily. She slipped on cloth shoes with firm soles and smoothed the wrinkles out of her sleeves.
At the dressing table, she combed her hair until it fell sleek down her back, then gathered it into a high ponytail and tied it with a plain ribbon.
Just as she finished, she heard her mother's voice from downstairs.
"A-Ling, breakfast is ready."
"Coming!"
A-Ling answered as she hurried out, taking the steps two at a time.
The first floor was modest but tidy, the kind of home that looked small from outside but held warmth in every corner. The kitchen stove sat against one wall with a kettle gently steaming, and beside it was a low shelf lined with bowls and jars of dried herbs. The main room doubled as a sitting area, with a worn wooden table and three chairs, a small brazier for colder nights, and a single door that opened to the street.
Off to the side, on a narrower table was kept carefully dust-free, on it stood a framed ink drawing of a man. The brushwork was strong and steady, as if the artist had been trying to capture a face from memory and willpower alone. In front of it rested a small bronze burner with thin incense sticks, a cup of clear tea, and a dish that always held something fresh, even if it was only a piece of fruit.
A-Ling glanced at it, then looked away, as if it might bite.
Her mother was already seated at the main table with breakfast laid out: a bowl of rice porridge, pickled greens, and a few steamed buns. The smell alone made A-Ling's stomach wake up properly.
Still, she couldn't help complaining as she sat down. "Mom, I already told you. You should be resting and leave cooking to me."
Cuilan, her mother, only chuckled at the her daughter's puffed cheeks and shook her head. "Oh, how much you've grown. I still remember when you used to run around covered in dirt and mud."
A-Ling groaned into her bowl in embarrassment. Rather than arguing, she stuffed her mouth with more food before her mother could dig up anything worse.
For a few breaths, there was only the quiet sound of eating.
Then Cuilan's gaze sharpened. "A-Ling, are you free tomorrow after you finish your work?"
A-Ling paused mid-bite. The seriousness in her mother's expression made her throat tighten. She gulped and leaned forward. "What's wrong, Mom? Are you sick? We can go right now!"
The worry in her daughter's eyes warmed Cuilan's chest, but it also made her heart ache. She reached out and patted A-Ling's hand. "Silly girl. I'm not collapsing today."
A-Ling didn't look convinced.
Cuilan hesitated, then spoke carefully. "A-Ling… you've already reached a suitable age for marri-"
A-Ling realized what she wanted to say instantly and cut her off, cheeks turning red. "I already told you. I'm currently focusing on my work, Mom. I don't have time for such things."
Cuilan had heard it many times. Usually, she would concede, because she knew A-Ling is saying that to stay and take care of her more. But today, she didn't let it go.
"A-Ling." Her tone was gentle, but firm. "You know my time is running out. Before that happens, I want to meet the person my daughter would entrust herself to. There are too many scumbags in this world who smile kindly until they bind you with marriage. Then their true, cruel face comes out."
A-Ling's jaw tightened. But she still couldn't give in.
Not because she hated the idea of marrying, but because she didn't want another regret to haunt her for the rest of her life.
Seeing her daughter's stubborn silence, Cuilan sighed and changed tactics.
"How about the one who gifted you those honey cakes?" Cuilan's eyes brightened a little. "Why not consider them, since you seem to be on good terms?"
She could still remember the sweetness lingering on her tongue days later. More than that, after eating it she'd even felt her chest breathe easier, as if something inside her had smoothed out. It had to be expensive. And to give A-Ling two slices meant the giver truly cared.
Cuilan had also never seen A-Ling speak about someone with such an unguarded, relaxed expression.
"Mom! Yue Rin is a woman, stop saying things like that!" A-Ling nearly choked.
Her face burned. She'd already explained this before. Did her mother not believe her?
Cuilan only smiled. "She's a cultivator, isn't she? That's enough for me. I don't care about children or continuing the bloodline like other families. I just want you to live happily with someone you trust, someone who can protect you."
She waved her hand as if it were obvious. "And I've heard cultivators don't care much about the gender of their partner. If anyone dares gossip, just let her beat them up."
"Enough!" A-Ling shoved back her chair, flustered beyond saving. "I'm going to work Mom!"
She snatched a bun from the table and hurried out of the house, eating as she went.
Cuilan watched the door close, then let out a long sigh.
She knew she'd become the kind of nagging mother she'd hated when she was younger.
But she was growing old, and she was scared. Scared of leaving A-Ling alone in a world that smiled politely while sharpening knives.
Maybe she should ask A-Ling to invite this Yue Rin over. A-Ling was smart. She wouldn't associate with someone truly bad. Still, Cuilan wanted to see with her own eyes.
And even if marriage was out of the question… she could at least ask that girl to look out for A-Ling. To check on her sometimes. To be a presence in her life, so she didn't end up trapped under the hand of a cruel husband one day.
Cuilan's gaze drifted to the ink drawing on the side table, a face she had loved, and lost.
Fate was truly harsh.
At that moment, Cuilan didn't know that A-Ling was already being protected… by the one person she least expected.
* * * *
After A-Ling arrived at the Rogue Alliance Pavilion, she headed straight to the changing room, swapped into her uniform, pinned her work tag neatly to her chest, and stepped back into the busy halls.
The pavilion was already awake. Staff moved between counters with disks and trays, customers lingered near the boards. Quiet voices rose and fell like waves, broken now and then by the crisp clack of an abacus.
Just as A-Ling neared her desk, a man intercepted her.
"A-Ling, manager Cui Zheng requests your presence in his office."
It wasn't strange for Cui Zheng to summon her, but he usually sent a regular employee.
Sending his personal assistant made A-Ling's stomach tighten.
"Alright."
After following him, they stopped outside the manager's office. The assistant knocked once, then opened the door for her. A-Ling stepped inside, and he closed it behind them.
Cui Zheng sat behind his desk, half-buried beneath paperwork that looked like it would never end. Scrolls, stamped documents, and ledgers lay stacked in careful piles, the kind of mess that was only organized to the person who created it.
He didn't look up right away. His brush moved for a few more strokes, then he set it down and finally raised his gaze.
This time, his expression was serious.
"The outer guards of the east gate were found dead recently, what do you think A-Ling?"
A-Ling's breath caught. She hadn't heard anything about such an incident on the streets. Something that big should've spread like wildfire through the entire kingdom.
Unless…
The royal family was suppressing it.
She frowned, confused. "Did you invite me here just to tell me classified information?"
Cui Zheng's eyes narrowed slightly, then softened with approval, as if her question had been the point.
"Usually, this would be blamed on bandits or madmen. The guards would be replaced, and the killers would be hunted down quickly unless they fled the kingdom."
He tapped one of the documents. "But this time, the outer guards were replaced by city guards."
City guards weren't mortals with swords. they were cultivators.
And including that the news was being suppressed…
"Do you know what's going on?" A-Ling decided to ask directly.
Instead of answering, Cui Zheng leaned back slightly. "What is the biggest upcoming event?"
A-Ling didn't waste time being annoyed at his dodge. She went through the calendar in her head.
The secret realm opening had already passed. There were no major festivals. No royal ceremonies she knew of.
Then it clicked.
"The secret realm closing, after that comes the New Year, and recruitment season…"
Cui Zheng nodded once. "Prepare yourself and your mother to leave. Head to the Lianhua Kingdom."
A-Ling's eyes widened.
He slid a pouch across the desk. It landed with a soft thud.
"This is your salary for the next two months, a carriage will arrive tomorrow morning in front of your house to take you both."
"What?" A-Ling stared at him, mind racing. "Why?"
"Trust me, this is for your own good."
A-Ling clenched her fists. "Can you at least tell me why?"
Cui Zheng shook his head slowly. "Sometimes it's better to be ignorant."
A-Ling held his gaze for a long breath, then realized she wasn't going to pry anything more out of him.
She turned to leave, but paused at the door.
"Something will happen on the day the secret realm closes?" The words sounded more like she was stating a fact than truly asking.
Cui Zheng looked faintly surprised she still pressed, but he nodded.
A-Ling's voice tightened. "You know my friend Yue Rin. She'll be leaving the secret realm too. If you find her in danger… please lend her a hand."
Cui Zheng's lips curved into a sly smile. "Could I consider this a favor?"
A-Ling didn't answer. She only opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind her with more force than she intended.
The office fell quiet again, leaving Cui Zheng alone with his paperwork.
Looking at the pouch she hadn't touched, Cui Zheng just clicked his tongue, like father like daughter.