Chapter 823: All This Needs to Be Handled. Fine!

"So?"

Yinlang blew out a bubble.

The bubble swelled from nothing beside her lips, its pink‑purple film catching a circle of iridescence in the warm light of the suite, then popped with a "snap."

She leaned against the sofa, both legs draped over the armrest, her head tipped back, a silver‑gray high ponytail hanging to the floor, the icy‑blue gradient at its tip sweeping across the carpet.

Her silver‑gray eyes were half‑closed, the ceiling crystal lamp reflected in the pupils, her gaze drifting as if she had been lounging on the sofa for three hours; in fact she had indeed lounged for three hours.

She fished a second piece of bubble gum from her pocket, peeled the wrapper and popped it into her mouth, chewing as she mumbled, "What's the Script now? Jing Yuan's already down, who's fighting Huan Long? Us?"

Kafuka stood by the suite's window, head bowed, looking at her phone.

Her burgundy hair fell from her shoulders, curving softly at the collar of her white shirt.

One hand gripped, thumb sliding slowly across the screen, while the fingertip of the other hand lightly rested on the edge of the black shorts at her waist.

Her legs, clad in sheer dark‑purple stockings, were slightly crossed, weight on the left leg, the short boot on the right foot lightly tapping the floor.

Sunlight from outside filtered through the half‑drawn curtains, casting a faint wash of light on the cool‑white side of her face.

She finished the last line of text, turned off the phone screen, and lifted her head.

In those pink‑purple eyes was a casual, composed smile.

Her burgundy lips curved in a shallow arc.

She spoke, her voice a uniquely lazy, low‑rich timbre, each word sounding as if lifted from red wine, wrapping the listener's ears in a tingling numbness.

"Ailiou says, proceed normally."

Yinlang halted her gum‑chewing.

Waiting for the next line.

She waited a moment.

"…Nothing?"

"The result is the same."

"Huh?"

Her eyebrows lifted, the gum snapping with a faint "pop" between her teeth.

She tipped her head back from the sofa to look down at Kafuka, the ponytail sprawled on the floor like a puddle of spilled silver‑gray water.

"But Jing Yuan isn't—Jing Yuan's fainted, huh. How can we fight Huan Long if he's fainted?"

She snapped her fingers one by one, "Kafuka, me, and the one spacing out by the window—shall the three of us go fight? Or…"

She raised an eyebrow, a glint flashing in her silver‑gray eyes, a smile curling at the corner with no real expectation, "Are you saying Ailiou might give me the cassette this time?"

Kafuka gently shook her head.

A smile lingered at the corner, but the headshake shattered Yinlang's newly‑sprouted hope into gum residue.

"The Script doesn't mention that."

"Ugh! No spirit."

Yinlang blew the gum into a big bubble, then sucked hard, bursting it, the pink‑purple film smearing on her nose tip.

She pinched the residue off her nose tip with a finger, rolled it into a small ball and flicked it into the trash can beside the coffee table.

She settled back into the sofa, hands tucked behind her head, her voice carrying a weakly coquettish tone, "Even among our own you're still a riddler, you really have had enough. So then, shall we proceed normally?"

Kafuka gave a slight nod.

She turned, looking toward the other end of the suite.

Ren stood by the window.

His deep ink‑blue hair fell over his shoulders and back, the crimson gradient at the ends appearing especially dark in the shadows cast by the curtains.

The hem of his black swallow‑tail coat hung quietly at his leg side, a white band peeking from the cuff of his right sleeve, winding across the back of his hand.

He never joined the earlier conversation, simply turned his back to the room, watching the sky of Luofu through the curtain slit.

In those scarlet eyes was nothing, only a void he had long grown accustomed to.

Kafuka's voice rose slowly, "Ren. You may begin."

Ren turned his head sideways.

His scarlet pupils flashed once from the shadow of his hair, like blood‑tempered agate catching a spark in the dark.

He nodded.

He said nothing.

Then he reached out, pushed the window open, one hand bracing the windowsill, and vaulted himself out.

The black coat's hem flashed against the window frame and vanished, the movement crisp and clean as if leaping over a threshold.

Yinlang sat on the sofa, staring at the still‑trembling window, her mouth corner twitching.

"Can't we just use the front door?"

She sprang up from the sofa, hands on her hips.

Her feet, clad in fishnet socks, pressed on the suite's carpet, the two feet alternating in a small hop.

She gestured toward the window with one hand, "We're on the third floor. We're not here to wreck the place, at least not now—why did he jump out?"

Kafuka let out a light laugh.

She strode toward the doorway, her dark‑purple stockings tracing fluid lines with each step, the black high‑waist shorts shaping a full silhouette, the burgundy strap around her thighs swaying lightly with her gait.

She reached the doorway, fingertip on the knob, tilting her head slightly toward Yinlang.

"Alright, treasure."

Her voice remained that leisurely low‑rich tone, but when she said "treasure," a subtle intimacy slipped in, as if she lightly tapped Yinlang's forehead with her fingertip.

"The Plot has begun. Stop blowing bubbles; it's a bad influence."

Yinlang pursed her lips.

She puts the third piece of Bubbles gum she hasn't unwrapped back into her pocket, bends down, scoops up the black‑blue patched jacket draped over the sofa armrest, and tosses it onto her shoulder.

She follows Kafuka toward the door, mumbling in a long, lazy drawl, "Eh— you have to take care of this too. Fine!"

Perspective shift.

Sai Fei Er stands in front of the restroom mirror, looking left, right, up, and down.

The mirror reflects the face of a white‑haired fox‑ears girl, her long white hair fluffy and thick, haloed with a faint silvery glow in the light.

A pair of matching‑color fox ears sit atop her head, the tips slightly upturned, the insides covered with soft white fur.

Her azure eyes are clear and bright, the corners slightly upturned, and when she smiles they look lively and vivid.

She wears a form‑fitting black‑purple patched base layer, a short black‑purple cloak over it, the collar trimmed with a fluffy soft white fur collar, a black wide belt at the waist, a matching high‑waist short skirt, black over‑knee boots that perfectly hug her calves, and a black leather leg band on the left thigh.

Sai Fei Er lifts her hand to touch her fox ears, and the tactile realism makes her involuntarily go "tsk tsk".

She turns sideways again, looks at the fluffy white fox tail in the mirror; the tail sways lightly at her mental command, its fur thick and soft, the tip tinged with pale white.

She turns around and looks behind her hips; the tail protrudes from beneath the skirt hem, its curve natural, the fur color uniform, identical to the Bai Hang she saw earlier in the mirror.

"Perfect."

She grins at the mirror, flashing her signature little fang.

Bai Zi, let me borrow your looks.

The white‑haired fox‑ears girl in the mirror gives her a perfectly synchronized, overly radiant smile.

Sai Fei Er adjusts the collar of her cloak, shakes loose the fur collar, then pushes open the restroom door and steps onto the streets of Changletian.

Sunlight streams through the gaps in Giant Tree's foliage, casting dappled shadows on the stone‑paved road.

Changletian's streets remain bustling; a tea house wafts the crisp‑bitter aroma of Immortal Happy Tea, the bakery's white smoke spirals in the air, and in the distance the Cloud Cavalry's orderly patrol steps echo.

She unfolds in her mind the map sent by Xi Tong.

Currently, the positions of all key figures on Xianzhou Luofu are clearly marked: Kafuka, Silver Wolf, Blade, Jing Yuan, Qingque, Fu Xuan, Dan Heng, Huo Huo, and other characters scattered elsewhere.

Each light dot steadily glows on the map, like pieces already placed on a chessboard.

She stands at the street corner, her white fox ears fluttering gently in the wind, her azure eyes squinting in the sunlight, and the corners of her mouth slowly lifting.

And so the great spectacle begins.

She puffs out her cheeks; the next second, she folds away every expression that isn't Bai Hang's, replacing it with a radiant, lively, cloudless smile.