Chapter 46: Ninth Fortress

Gu Xianqing kicked off her shoes and socks as if no one else was around.

“What are you doing?” An He caught a hurried glimpse of the bare ankle, her voice quickening. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“Such a soft bed—can’t you share it with me so I can rest a bit? I’ve been roughing it outdoors.” Gu Xianqing wore a perfectly natural expression as she buried her head in the covers. Moments later, she twitched her nostrils and sniffed lightly, as if discovering something novel. “Mm, it still smells like your shampoo… quite nice.”

“Pervert.” An He hurled the insult without mercy.

“Thanks for the compliment—your tongue’s as vicious as ever.” Gu Xianqing propped up her head, unperturbed. “How’ve you been washing up in the public baths these past couple days? Did your wound get wet?”

An He stayed stock-still. “…None of your business.”

“This is me caring about you.” Gu Xianqing was thick-skinned, but her tone turned earnest. “Best to avoid getting the wound wet. Infection’s no joke around here. If you don’t know how, I can guide you.”

“No need for guidance on that level of detail.” An He forced her gaze away. She’d realized it: in the dream, Gu Xianqing relied on her Innate Talent to suppress her completely, with zero fear of getting pummeled. So her words and actions grew even bolder, relentlessly provoking and teasing.

Anyway, An He couldn’t move.

She endured it.

“You’re sleeping here? I thought you were busy.” A hint of displeasure leaked into An He’s tone.

If Gu Xianqing took the bed, where would she sleep?

Gu Xianqing paused mid-motion as she was about to slip under the covers. She pondered for a moment, then sat up on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, she turned An He’s chair-bound body to face her directly, ensuring their eyes met—and An He’s gaze had nowhere else to land.

“I’m not busy. I have a lot more to say to you.”

Gu Xianqing manipulated An He’s immobilized body as easily as if she were handling a sleeping person. An He was wide awake, yet the control was entirely in Gu Xianqing’s hands, letting her toy with it at will.

An He’s hand clenched tightly within her sleeve. Gu Xianqing still didn’t know: after that battle ended, An He’s entire right hand could already move in the dream.

“What do you want to tell me?” An He asked.

Gu Xianqing leaned forward slightly, drawing close to study An He’s face, as if scrutinizing every texture of her skin.

The stool by the bed was higher than the mattress edge, so Gu Xianqing had to tilt her head up to meet An He’s eyes. But in Gu Xianqing’s gaze, An He spotted a glint of mockery.

“Your plan to infiltrate the First Fortress won’t succeed,” Gu Xianqing said, the topic unexpectedly grave.

“Why?”

“Because the First Fortress is the cruelest, most real face of this world. Haven’t you considered that? You think waving a Holy Sword and showing submission will earn you praise from their Saint Lord?”

Gu Xianqing raised her right hand and swung it through the air, her left pressing to her chest, mimicking the scene of An He claiming credit and receiving rewards.

“You might just get killed on the spot instead. Not everyone’s as emotionally steady as Ide, willing to value and trust you.”

“You’re mocking me.” An He said, “I haven’t thought it that simplistically. Infiltrating the fortress needs the right opportunity, step-by-step scheming. But it’s not entirely impossible.”

“What guarantees your safety?”

“First, they still don’t know who killed Tina’s Nestsoul. As long as I control Lola, no one knows what I did on the battlefield.”

Gu Xianqing laughed. “That’s no reason at all. Completely insufficient.”

“Second, Ide will demand exorbitantly in the negotiations and refuse to release anyone.” An He ignored her. “The First Fortress will have to pay a price to redeem their hostages. I can help them save that cost.”

“Sounds like you’re bringing some benefits, but still not enough.”

“Finally. In this battle, they lost over eighty Embedded Spirit Bodies. Even if the First Fortress dwarfs the Ninth Fortress, that’s twice the Thorn Lamp’s numbers—all wiped out.” An He continued, “I can’t imagine the First Fortress, having stirred up public fury, wouldn’t feel a sense of crisis. Their three allied nations might even counterattack. They’re desperately short on people. My arrival could solve that urgent problem. Or are you telling me the First Fortress doesn’t lack Embedded Spirit Bodies?”

“That they do lack,” Gu Xianqing admitted this time, without rebuttal.

“So as long as I find the right moment to appear—ideally resolving a crisis or minor conflict for them—and master how to use my Nestsoul before entering their sight, with all those advantages combined, I still have a shot at staying in the First Fortress.”

“I get it. You’re even planning to manufacture a conflict on purpose?”

“If necessary.” An He said, “Didn’t Lola deliberately create some hardships too?”

“I don’t oppose it.” Gu Xianqing curved her brows, eyeing her. “But you still might not get to stay.”

“Why?”

“Do you even know the people of the First Fortress to make such judgments?” Gu Xianqing cut straight to the point, exposing the flaw. “Your plan assumes their reactions based on your own imagination. What if their leaders, or whoever receives you, think the complete opposite? They’d rather kill a thousand innocents than let one suspect slip away?”

An He felt the sting—this was her deepest worry.

She didn’t know what kind of person Saint Lord Sekhmet was, or the First Fortress leadership’s style. Could she even reach Sekhmet’s notice?

From Tina, Sora, and No. 1, An He had glimpsed just the tip of the iceberg: utterly rational, yet savagely feral. That forged a powerfully chaotic temperament—terrifying.

When you’re at an information disadvantage, it’s impossible to predict how someone in total control will decide—even if it matches your guess, their logic runs deeper, farther, into shadows you can’t see.

An He could rely on Lola, but Lola was a subordinate; a superior’s mindset could only be guessed at, not asserted.

But An He wasn’t without leverage.

She lifted her eyes, gazing complexly at the Gu Xianqing so close by. Moments later, her tone fell soft as a drifting feather: “I don’t know these people. But you do, don’t you?”

The feather seemed to brush Gu Xianqing’s lashes; she blinked, then broke into a sudden smile. “I see. So you’ve factored me into your calculations too.”

“This is asking for help. How is that calculating?”

“Fine then.” Gu Xianqing leaned further in, tilting her head up, mimicking An He’s airy tone: “Tell me, is this you relying on me? Getting used to me helping you?”

An He froze, a jolt like electricity surging through her. She hadn’t realized it. But just recently, when she’d hit a snag with Lola, she’d instinctively thought of Gu Xianqing.

An He wanted to pull back, to put some distance between them, but she couldn’t move. She could only part her lips halfway, eyes wary: “Is that not allowed? Or is all this help from you just part of some scheme?”

“I didn’t say that.” Gu Xianqing reached out, caressing An He’s soft cheek. “Aren’t we partners?”

“Partners? If we really were, information should be shared.” An He grumbled. “You’ve been to the First Fortress. You could just tell me about it directly, but you never volunteer anything.”

“Tell you what?” An He’s demanding tone irked Gu Xianqing. She suddenly gripped An He’s chin hard, forcing her head down. “Tell you your Nestsoul is special, and the moment you strut into the First Fortress, some mad scientist named Wen might grab you, lock you up, and drain your blood dry?”

“What?” An He felt the faint pain and instinctively wanted to raise her right hand to resist, but she held back quickly.

“Listen up—I’m sharing information with you.” Gu Xianqing tilted her head closer. “If you boldly walk into the First Fortress, you’ll face countless thorny enemies.”

An He keenly caught the key detail: “Someone named Wen… so specific…”

She paused, recalling Gu Xianqing’s three days in the First Fortress, and her disgust for it. “Was this your experience?”

“Let me tell you a story first.” Gu Xianqing eased back slightly, her tone inscrutable as she launched into the tale unbidden.

“Five years ago, an ignorant… let’s call her a Defector for now. She crossed mountains and ridges to reach Ivyen City. She’d heard of Golden Age relics on these plains and came seeking them. After resting a day in the Lower City, she realized it was nothing like the books described: devices lay abandoned everywhere, people fearful and guarded. Disappointed, she entered the core city for help. And then…”

Gu Xianqing smiled, raising her voice: “Then she got grabbed! Because she carelessly revealed she was an Embedded Spirit Body.”

“It was you.” An He stared at her steadily. The story’s naive fool sounded nothing like Gu Xianqing, but the mention of Embedded Spirit Body sealed it.

Gu Xianqing ignored the interruption and pressed on: “Someone treated her like treasure, wanted to study her, drain her blood, interrogate her origins. She realized these people had been warped by disaster—pure survivalists, consequences be damned. See, when a rare Embedded Spirit Body shows up, it doesn’t always mean gentle treatment. So this Defector killed two people and left that crumbling city on the third day.”

An He’s gaze grew complicated as she looked at Gu Xianqing. “Is that why you hate the First Fortress?”

“You could say that.” Gu Xianqing smiled carelessly. “How about it? Fun fairy tale?”

“Not fun.” An He rejected it. “What’s the full name of that Wen person?”

“Wen Yewang, thirty-five years old now.” Gu Xianqing’s smile dazzled. “You’ll recognize her instantly. That near-pathological researcher vibe is unforgettable.”

“You want me to kill her?”

“I didn’t say that.” Gu Xianqing’s fingers on An He’s face relaxed but didn’t release. “Besides, you might not even have the ability. I still think, even if they’re short-staffed, you won’t necessarily get valued.”

“Is there a better way? You entered from the Lower City and still got caught.” An He refused to yield. “Either way, I’ll find the right opportunity.”

“Since you’re so insistent… how about a bet?” Gu Xianqing drew close, whispering. “When you show off your strength and Nestsoul in the First Fortress, we’ll see if the higher-ups recruit you—or drag you off for study. Deal?”

“Bet what?”

“It’s a spur-of-the-moment idea; I haven’t decided the stakes.” Gu Xianqing’s fingers finally left An He’s face. She glanced around, but this barren room held no fitting chips. The most captivating things were this increasingly sturdy body and An He’s face—docile yet feral.

Soon, Gu Xianqing gripped An He’s chin again. Her thumb brushed An He’s slightly chapped lips. From training, An He had tanned a bit; a tiny, curled flake of skin on her lower lip caught Gu Xianqing’s eye. Imperfect texture, yet flawlessly beautiful.

Stirring the urge to moisten it.

“Then… let’s bet a kiss.” Ignoring An He’s slightly contracting pupils, Gu Xianqing boldly proposed what she deemed the perfect stake. “If you lose, you start it.”

Of course we’ll bet.

—Bet on you relying on me, submitting to me, devoted utterly, willing to die for me.

Gu Xianqing held An He’s chin, hovering just shy of those parted lips, her breath teasing as she lured her step by step: “Well? Dare you?”

An He was utterly stunned, her skin trembling with the urge to surrender. Beneath the overcoat, her right wrist shifted subtly, knuckles tensing—tonight, waiting for Gu Xianqing, she’d kept her combat gear on, fully equipped, including the sleeve blade hidden at her wrist.

She’d asked about Gu Xianqing’s wounds out of care, but she wouldn’t hesitate to drive a blade into her waist if danger loomed.

Yet she didn’t move. In the scalp-tingling hush of held breath, her immature response emerged: “What’s not to dare?”

She wouldn’t end up beneath her.

They both knew: no love bloomed between them, only probes and exploitation. They clashed with words, with fists; this skin-to-skin contact was just another battle. What was there to fear?

“Good.” That cheek-itching breath suddenly withdrew. Gu Xianqing curved her brows in a smile. “I’m looking forward to the kiss you’ll offer.”

A sudden wave of pain swept through An He’s mind. Gu Xianqing’s thumb pressed hard, rubbing away a bit of dead skin from An He’s lip. From the kneading, An He’s lower lip turned a deep crimson, and a bead of blood—like after a mosquito bite—welled up from the clean tip of her Cupid’s bow.

An He quickly licked it away.

A faint, elusive metallic tang lingered on her tongue. An He’s mood grew restless. “You won’t sabotage me just because of this bet, will you?”

“Of course not. I’m on your side.”

“Then will you help me?”

“I’ll give you what you need.” Gu Xianqing’s eyes grew misty, a spark of interest lighting them. Half-threatening, half-fabricated, she said, “But how do you know I’m helping you? Have you ever considered that I might be misleading you, tempting you, pushing you toward an inescapable abyss… who knows?”

Her tone was so light and airy, her eyes narrowed in the Targeting pose, making An He mistake her for some beast teetering on the edge of an abyss.

An He’s heart pounded wildly. She licked her lip again, this time subconsciously. “Are you serious?”

An He felt a bit scared.

“Fake.” Gu Xianqing laughed. “How could I bear to?”