Chapter 426: Too Perfect

Her gaze lingered on the Black Umbrella in Chang Ye Yue's hand, the black‑red dress she wore, and especially the calm crimson eyes, as if reading a book full of secrets.

Chang Ye Yue did not answer immediately.

The lively expression of the San Yue Qi style on her face had long faded, returning to a detached calm.

She didn't even try to argue or keep up the disguise, because before a true Memory keeper, such clumsy role‑play was meaningless and only raised suspicion.

She remained silent, not out of nervousness from being questioned, but because she was thinking quickly, while…

Her hand seemed to hang casually at her side, but her fingertips twitched slightly, as if selecting something from an invisible pocket.

Which one should receive the small gift?

From Hei Tian'e's perspective, the silence of this "impostor San Yue Qi" resembled a wordless resistance and vigilance.

The smile on her face faded a bit, and the tarot card at her fingertips stopped rotating, gently pinched between her fingers.

An invisible pressure began to spread silently, centered on her.

"The duty of the Liu Guang Yi Ting is to record true Memory and eliminate the counterfeit that should not exist."

Hei Tian'e's voice remained gentle, but the meaning was crystal clear: "I admire Miss San Yue's pure, beautiful Memory hue. So could you tell me why you masquerade as her here, wandering this place? What is your purpose…?"

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes fixed on Chang Ye Yue, and the tarot card in her hand could turn into power at any moment.

She was about to strike!

Perspective shift.

A Xing slipped both hands into pockets, walking down a relatively narrow Back Alley.

The lighting here was much dimmer.

Compared with the main street, this place was quieter and made it easier to spot some… less obvious "treasures".

Her golden eyes were like the most precise instruments, missing no corner.

Finally, at the mouth of an alley piled with empty Dreamscape drink bottles and discarded decorative materials, she saw it—

a trash can.

An old‑fashioned, matte dark‑gray one, its lid sealed tightly, its body devoid of any fancy ornamentation…

a standard cylindrical trash can.

It stood there quietly, incongruous with the slightly chaotic surroundings, yet exuding a grounded, back‑to‑roots solidity.

A Xing halted.

Her gaze locked firmly on that trash can, and a faint glint, long absent from her golden pupils, seemed to spark.

Her heartbeat, uncontrollably, quickened just a bit.

It wasn't nervousness, but… a near‑pilgrimage anticipation and excitement.

Too perfect.

These lines.

This texture.

This world‑standing, solitary aura.

This is absolutely a work of art among trash cans!

It is the most aesthetically pleasing, most heart‑stirring trash can she has ever seen in her life!

She could even imagine the pleasant rustle when gently lifting the tightly sealed lid; she could foresee what undiscovered, unique "treasure" belonging to this Dreamscape city might be hidden inside…

Almost involuntarily, A Xing took a step toward that perfect trash can, then another.

Her hand slowly emerged from her pocket, with an almost reverent solemnity, reaching toward the smooth lid, her fingertips about to touch the cold metal surface—

"Bang!"

A muffled thud, accompanied by a small, non‑blinding puff of white smoke.

When A Xing's fingertips were less than a centimeter from the lid, the perfect, art‑like trash can in front of her vanished abruptly, like a popped soap bubble.

A Xing's hand froze mid‑air.

Her golden eyes widened slightly, gazing at the empty ground before her, where only a thin wisp of rapidly fading white smoke remained.

What… situation?

Her brain seemed to experience a brief crash from the sudden, incomprehensible turn of events.

The perfect trash can… gone?

In front of her… turned to smoke?

At that moment, a crisp, lively female voice, laced with unabashed mockery and teasing, came from behind her:

"Hahaha! Got fooled, huh~ Xiao Hui Mao? Are you surprised? Unexpected?"

A Xing, expressionless, slowly turned around.

At the other end of the alley, against the flow of the colorful aura streaming from the main street, stood a petite, sprightly figure.

She had black twin‑tails, the tips of her hair slightly upturned, and a red‑and‑white fox mask ornament tucked on her forehead.

A red mole at the corner of her eye added a bewitching touch to her delicate face with a cunning smile.

A petal‑shaped bustier, layered skirt, and golden swimming‑fish ornaments adorning her body.

She was barefoot, wearing wooden clogs, tiny bells tied to her ankles, emitting a crisp "ding‑ling" with each gentle sway.

It was Huahuo.

She now stood with hands on hips, laughing uproariously, as if having just pulled off an extremely successful prank, brimming with pride.

"Oh dear, look who this is?"

Huahuo, having laughed enough, wiped nonexistent tears with the back of her hand, hopped a few steps forward, tilted her head to size up A Xing, "Isn't this our big star Xiao Hui Mao? Why didn't you join the bustling Holy Grail Battle? Running alone into this pitch‑black alley, drooling at a trash can?"

Her gaze swept over A Xing's back of hand, smooth and unmarred, bearing no trace of a Command Spell.

Huahuo's smile grew even brighter, yet far more malicious: "Huh? Where's your Command Spell? Could it be… you lost the match in some corner, reverted to your original form? Tsk tsk tsk, how pitiful~"

A Xing quietly listened to Huahuo's barrage‑like taunts, his face still expressionless, golden eyes Calmly looking at the other, as if watching a stranger performing a slapstick act.

Her right hand again slipped into the seemingly ordinary pocket of her coat.

Huahuo, seeing this, thought the other was angry enough to draw a weapon, but instead of fearing, she grew more aggressive, moved even closer—almost pressing up to A Xing's face—looked up, and with a vicious smile said, "What? Want to fight? Come on, come on! Let me see how many books the Master who lost his Servant still has—"

Her words could not be finished.

Because what A Xing pulled from the pocket was neither a weapon nor a bat Flame Gun.

It was a… fish.

Huahuo didn't even see how the other acted.

She only saw the Salted Fish trace a short, firm arc through the air—

"Pa!"

A sound not very loud but unusually solid thud.

The Salted Fish solidly slapped onto Huahuo's brightly smiling face.

The world fell silent.

Huahuo's smile froze instantly, and those eyes that always glittered with mischievous light were filled with bewilderment.

Then, an indescribable smell, like a tsunami, overwhelmed all her senses!

"Uh…"