As Pantalone withdrew, his gaze swept the room one last time.
"No need to look. Sandrone had already left before I began bathing."
Severin's calm voice drifted from behind the bead curtain.
"Yes, Your Highness."
Pantalone wasn't surprised in the slightest that his little scheme had been seen through. In fact, among the Eleven Harbingers, it was common knowledge—nothing could be hidden from the Prince.
Because of that, their scheming no longer needed to be concealed.
What should have been shadows had long since become open plays.
Stepping outside, Pantalone closed the door gently. One of his trusted aides hurried over.
"My lord, I personally saw Sandrone enter His Highness's room. There's no mistake."
That was precisely why he had come to report at this hour—hoping to catch her in the act.
Pantalone walked ahead, speaking casually. "Sandrone has countless puppet bodies. What you saw may not have been her true self."
The aide hesitated, then pressed on. "My lord… are you certain she isn't inside?"
Pantalone's voice turned cold. "Are you questioning my judgment?"
The man quickly lowered his head. "I just… feel unwilling to let it go. My lord, last time Sandrone reported you for accepting bribes, Her Majesty was furious and docked your salary for a year. If we don't take revenge—"
"Enough," Pantalone cut him off. "The reception hall and bath chamber contain only His Highness. There is nothing more to discuss."
"…Could it be that His Highness is covering for her?"
Pantalone stopped in his tracks and turned, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"Do you have a death wish?"
The aide immediately began slapping himself. "My lord, I was wrong! You've always said—no matter when or where, we must never doubt His Highness's word!"
"If there's a next time, you won't be forgiven," Pantalone said coldly.
The man trembled, his clothes already soaked with sweat.
What he didn't see—
was Pantalone himself wiping a thin layer of sweat from his brow as he walked away.
That warning—never doubt the Prince—was originally spoken by the Tsaritsa herself.
Inside the room, steam lingered in the air.
Severin used his power to dry himself. Meanwhile, Sandrone remained crouched in the bath, only her head above the water. When her eyes fell on his well-built form, a faint blush crept onto her face.
"Are you planning to stay there forever?"
"Yes… Your Highness."
She gathered her skirt and stepped out of the bath. Her soaked clothes clung tightly to her pale skin, outlining her slender figure. With a thought, she dried herself, then stepped forward to drape a robe over Severin's shoulders, fastening the belt at his waist before moving behind him to tidy his hair.
"Your Highness, earlier in Luofu Grotto, you promised Xiao you would let him meet the four Yaksha who have already passed away. That sounds… rather unbelievable."
Severin sat calmly in his chair. "Which part do you find unbelievable? Meeting the dead—or that I would help him?"
Sandrone laughed softly. "If you say it, I believe it. Even if you said they could be brought back to life, I wouldn't doubt you. I just don't understand… why help him?"
"The Yaksha are uniquely suited to purging the lingering resentment of fallen gods," Severin replied. "They have their use. Besides… it ties into Mora."
"So it's all part of your plan," she said, eyes lighting up. "I can't wait to see how it unfolds."
"No rush," Severin said quietly. "Let's watch the show between the Qixing and the adepti first."
The next morning, outside Bubu Pharmacy, one of the largest medical clinics in Liyue, a long line had already formed.
Patients seeking treatment, customers buying medicine, travelers from afar—all lined up neatly after drawing numbered tickets. Ever since Northland Bank introduced the ticketing system, businesses across Liyue had adopted it. Order was maintained, and disputes had all but disappeared.
But exceptions still occurred.
Across the street, an elderly man appeared—leaning on a cane, dressed in long robes, his white hair and sharp gaze giving him an air of quiet authority.
Without hesitation, he walked straight past the line and into the pharmacy.
"Who's that? He looks important."
"Doesn't matter. The numbering system was set by Baizhu himself. I bet he'll be thrown out in ten seconds."
"Cutting the line like that… no manners."
Murmurs spread through the crowd. No one liked being skipped.
But they were all wrong.
Not only was the old man not driven out—
the pharmacy suddenly announced it would close for the day.
A small girl stepped forward to deliver the news. Her legs were wrapped in bandages, and a talisman rested on her forehead. Her face was pale, almost lifeless, yet her rose-colored eyes held a gentle light.
Outsiders flinched at the sight.
Locals simply greeted her with familiarity.
Qiqi.
"Today… there is an important guest," she said slowly. "The doctor says… we must close. Sorry, everyone."
She bowed to the crowd.
Though confused and dissatisfied, no one complained too loudly—not to her.
"Thank you… for understanding."
Qiqi nodded, then suddenly paused.
"…Why am I here again?"
A moment later, she stood there, scratching her head in confusion.
Upstairs, by the window, the old man watched her quietly.
His voice carried a hint of displeasure.
"Tianxuan Star, in the future, don't let her handle such trivial matters."
"I told you long ago—she is the Fortune Preserver, blessed with immortality. She can be considered one of the illuminated beings. Her status is equal to ours."
Baizhu sighed lightly. "Mountain Shaper, Qiqi's mind is like that of a child. I let her do these things to help her grow."
The old man was none other than Mountain Shaper.
He had descended the mountains in human form—
to seek out one of the Liyue Qixing.
And seeing Qiqi being casually assigned such tasks—
left him quietly displeased.
Because deep down—
the adepti all owed her a debt.
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