Chapter 155: That's Too Similar

Too similar.

It's not that the appearance matches perfectly, but that gaze, that quality of seemingly maintaining a detached scrutiny of all things in the world, which bears an astonishing resemblance to the image of a certain Genius Club member currently circulating.

Especially that gaze, as if it were carved from the same mold.

What left him speechless even more was the accompanying brief "personal experience" summary.

In a mere three hundred years, spanning interstellar miner, data pirate intelligence dealer, Beloberg LowerDistrict bartender, Black Tower Space Station "honorary" cleaning consultant (the parentheses note that using an unknown solvent to scrub seventy‑six experimental pods caused data chaos and resulted in a gift), Xianzhou opera troupe prop manager (again parenthetically noted that attempting to innovate traditional opera with Holographic Projection technology caused a stage explosion and resignation)… ultimately ending up as a "freelancer, primary source of income unknown."

Jing Yuan rubbed the bridge of his brow.

(Writing a résumé like this—does it truly aim to conceal, or is it some kind of Performance Art?)

His gaze shifted to the next piece of information.

Tenant: Bai Xing. Race: Fox People. Occupation: itinerant merchant.

In the accompanying photo was a half‑body portrait of a white‑haired Fox People girl.

She wore a pair of oddly styled Round Sunglasses on her face, covering the upper half, leaving only the lower half with a faint smile and a sharp chin exposed.

Jing Yuan's fingertips lightly tapped the handrail.

(This is too similar.)

Not the way the sunglasses are worn, but the facial contour, the slight upward curve of the lips when smiling, the vivid, lively aura that can be felt even through the image…

It overlapped heavily with the silhouette of an old friend long frozen in the depths of Memory during the Sudden Chaos.

(Only…)

He stared at those sunglasses.

(According to Xianzhou household registration image collection standards, when were such face‑covering accessories ever permitted?)

These sunglasses are odd.

They don't fully conceal, but in the recorded image they seem to carry a layer of fuzzy film, preventing the observer's gaze from penetrating the lenses to outline the shape and luster of the eyes behind, like a deliberately arranged Cognition fog.

Ordinary review might overlook it, but in Jing Yuan's eyes this is precisely the most obvious "abnormal" marker.

"General?"

A clear‑toned young voice sounded nearby.

Jing Yuan looked up, seeing his beloved disciple Yan Qing had somehow drifted over, curiously peering at the light screen.

When Yan Qing's gaze landed on the photo of Bai Xing wearing sunglasses, the young swordsman suddenly let out a "Huh?"

"Is it her?"

Jing Yuan's eyebrows twitched slightly, intrigued: "Yan Qing, do you know this person?"

"Can't say I know her, just have seen her."

Yan Qing recalled, his face bearing the earnestness characteristic of a youth, "About half a month ago, in the western market of the Star Chariot Sea, three demon‑shadow bodies suddenly erupted and attacked passersby. The scene was chaotic, the cloud cavalry hadn't arrived. It was this Fox People girl,"

He pointed at the photo, "She suddenly flashed out from the crowd, using a short bow that condensed energy; her movements were so fast they were almost invisible. Swoosh swoosh swoosh— three arrows, precisely striking the vital joints of those three demon‑shadow bodies, instantly subduing them. Her technique was crisp and efficient, with no wasted motion. She didn't linger afterward, departing swiftly."

Yan Qing paused, then added, "When I reported the incident, I think I mentioned it to you, General, but at the time I didn't know her name."

Jing Yuan seemed thoughtful, his fingertips unconsciously twirling a strand of his hanging white hair.

A bow?

Bai Hang… was also a master of the bow.

In earlier years, her archery was unrivaled, agile and precise, often achieving feats in unexpected places.

Is it a coincidence? Similar looks, akin temperament, even the weapon of choice…

A itinerant merchant, yet possessing such fierce skill, handling sudden demon‑shadow incidents with practiced calm, and leaving without claiming credit…

Add to that the deliberately obscuring sunglasses photo that even household registration images can't "see clearly," and the landlord whose appearance resembles Black Tower…

The laziness in Jing Yuan's eyes gradually faded, replaced by a sharp, deep investigative gleam.

This seemingly tranquil Luofu alley appeared, by chance, to have rolled in two rather interesting "stones".

"General, is there anything amiss with this person?"

Yan Qing, seeing the General's altered expression, asked.

Jing Yuan snapped back, the depth on his face instantly replaced by a slightly playful smile. He waved his hand, speaking lightly: "Nothing. It's just that looking at this photo reminds me of a… long‑unseen old friend."

The old friend has been dead for several hundred years.

But what if the old friend… never truly left?

Or perhaps someone has borrowed the old friend's form, silently infiltrating Luofu?

Jing Yuan lifted the slightly cool tea cup at hand, took a sip, and his gaze fell again on the file bearing the name "Bai Xing", a smile swirling in his eyes yet its depth inscrutable.

This Luofu Chessboard seems about to gain a few unexpected pieces.

Interesting.

In the small courtyard, Bai Hang was still unaware that she had already been logged in Shen Ce Fu's records.

She was facing the "Xi Tong" Clone left by System Miss, earnestly discussing: "I say, System Miss, isn't that 'Xi Tong' résumé a bit too exaggerated? What if a Xianzhou department actually comes to investigate…"

The "Xi Tong" Clone replied in a tone identical to its original, "All experiences can be traced back to a plausible disguise. Logical loop complete. Moreover—"

She paused, seemingly retrieving some data.

"—According to calculations, the probability of serious verification is below 0.37%. More likely it will be dismissed as invalid information junk or Performance Art."

Bai Hang: "……"

(Alright, you're impressive.)

Perspective shift.

The corridor here glowed with a cold metallic sheen, the walls pure white, only the floor guide lines and occasional flickering safety indicator lights providing a hint of color.

It grew ever quieter, so quiet one could hear one's own heartbeat— for Du Ya, that sound was now a bit noisy, as her heart raced from nerves.

She and A Xing were presently hidden in a maintenance compartment of an auxiliary ventilation shaft, the space cramped, the two almost shoulder to shoulder.

The observation window of the partition had been specially treated; looking from inside out it was a one-way mirror, allowing a clear view of the corridor outside, and a few fully armed Valkyrie patrol squads had just passed by on routine patrol, their footsteps uniform and synchronized, gradually fading away.

"Alright, the 'Ant' has successfully slipped into the Titan's toe gap."

Du Ya lowered their voice, the crimson snake eyes fixed on the outside, "So, what about the second half of the Genius Plan? How do we get that big living person… uh, or rather, the sleeping S-Class Valkyrie, out of this copper‑wall iron‑fortress by 'inviting' her out?"

She couldn't help continuing to rant in her mind:

(This Plot line is really split‑forked all the way to grandma's house! I'm actually here at this moment, still having to dig at the wall's base… If Ao Tuo discovers that his own S-Class combat power has been stolen, will that fake‑smiling face crack right open?)