Jian Dan glanced at the open jewelry box, her lips curling into a faint, mocking smile.
The magnolia set inside was a pale imitation of the one she had left behind—cheaper jade, artificially enhanced by Du Yanran's spiritual energy to appear lustrous and translucent. To an ordinary person, the difference would be invisible.
Du Yanran's gaze burned into her, but Jian Dan pretended not to notice, focusing instead on the jewelry. Without hesitation, she plucked out the magnolia earrings and fastened them onto Du Yanran's ears.
A flicker of triumph passed through Du Yanran's eyes before she feigned surprise.
"What are you doing? I was just safekeeping these for you! I'd never take your mother's heirlooms. I only said those things back then because I was afraid you wouldn't return, that you'd suffer alone."
"I know." Jian Dan smiled warmly. "We've been friends for so long—I understand your intentions. You wanted to leave me a way back."
"These earrings suit you. Consider them my coming-of-age gift to you. As for the rest…" She closed the box. "I'll keep them as mementos of Mother. Don't refuse me—what's a trinket compared to our friendship?"
"Fine, fine. You win."
Du Yanran linked arms with her, relief washing over her.
History was repeating itself.
In their past life, these very earrings had ended up in her hands. Though the timing had shifted, the outcome remained unchanged. She knew that every choice carried consequences—some deviations were inevitable. But as long as the larger trajectory held, she still held the advantage.
For the next two days, the two played the roles of reunited best friends—chatting, laughing, visiting old classmates and neighbors. But when Jian Dan returned to her hotel and examined the jewelry box, she nearly laughed aloud.
It had been soaked in a colorless, odorless liquid—a tracking agent for cultivators.
No matter how one disguised themselves or hid, this substance, derived from a rare spiritual herb called Shadow-Trace Grass, would always leave a trail. The herb blended seamlessly with ordinary grass, distinguishable only by a thin white vein running through its leaves—something only the most observant would notice.
"Yanran really spared no expense to keep tabs on me."
Jian Dan had been cautious, handling only the jewelry inside—never the box itself. Du Yanran had slipped it into her bag when she wasn't looking.
Now, with a flick of her fingers, Jian Dan summoned a thin membrane of chaotic spiritual energy, shielding her hands as she inspected the box.
The imitation magnolia jewelry gleamed deceptively. Beautiful on the surface, but laced with hidden arrays. Prolonged wear would fuse the wearer's energy with Du Yanran's, allowing her to steal luck—or even redirect calamity onto the unsuspecting victim.
The pendant was the most intricate, its carvings forming an interlocking array far beyond Du Yanran's current skill. It seemed pre-made, the spells embedded deep within the jade.
Just as Jian Dan leaned in for a closer look—
A black streak shot toward her face. To an outsider, the attack would have been a blur. But to Jian Dan's Foundation Establishment senses, the world moved in slow motion. A jet-black snake, fangs bared, lunged for her throat.
A King Cobra—but mutated. Its once-pale underbelly had darkened, merging with the inky scales along its spine. Its head was narrower than usual, its body stretching nearly five feet long.
"So you're the one who's been lurking around me."
Jian Dan flicked her fingers, releasing a pinprick of gray light that struck the snake's seven-inch vital point. In the same motion, she snatched its neck mid-air. The serpent went limp instantly, though it still hissed weakly in defiance.
"Where did you come from?"
The snake's beady eyes held human-like resentment—and resignation. When struggling proved futile, it went utterly still, playing dead. Amused, Jian Dan shook it lightly before tossing it toward the open window. The moment it hit the floor, the cobra bolted, vanishing into the night without a backward glance.