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INE Chapter 103: The Puppet
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 03:23:45 +0000 UTCAs they stepped into the Taiping Hall, the courtyard revealed its own quiet elegance, bubbling springs, sculpted rocks, and lush trees, each possessing a subtle charm.
Inside the grand hall, glazed lanterns cast a soft, glittering glow, and the floor was paved with polished jade from Mount Zhong. Even the smallest slab was a luxury beyond the reach of ordinary folk in their entire lifetime.
Standing in such opulence, Ji Rong felt almost weightless, as if she were floating midair.
She couldn’t help it, who would’ve thought the original owner’s family was this rich?
Her father wasn’t just a city lord… he might as well be an emperor.
Along the way, every maid and guard they passed dropped to their knees at the sight of her, bowing with lowered heads to greet her respectfully.
They bowed so thoroughly it was as if they couldn’t be helped up again.
Guan Yue led the group toward the main hall, glancing back frequently and offering Ji Rong a warm smile. “Young City Lord, you’ve been away from Xuanji City for so many years. The City Lord and Madam have missed you dearly.”
What could Ji Rong say to that?
All she could do was suppress her inner discomfort and nod with forced composure. “I missed them too.”
Her tone was so stiff that even Gu Baiyi furrowed her brow.
But Guan Yue seemed unfazed. If anything, she looked even more tender, as if remembering some cherished memory.
Ji Rong: “……”
She couldn’t guess what Guan Yue was thinking, nor did she have any grasp on what the original Ji Rong was like.
As they neared the hall, the conversation died down, prompting Wei Zongqiu to wave his folding fan and break the silence with a light-hearted question: “Senior Sister Ji never mentioned her father at the sect. I wonder what the City Lord is like?”
Ji Rong was speechless. How could she have talked about a “father” she’d never even met?
But under everyone’s gaze, she could only maintain her air of mystery and respond coolly, “You’ll see soon enough.”
She didn’t expect that the moment those words left her mouth, she’d actually lay eyes on her supposed father.
At the moment, he wasn’t in a council room reviewing state affairs. Instead, he sat casually on a throne-like seat in the hall, holding a wooden puppet and conversing with a woman.
If not for the woman’s bright eyes and healthy glow, Ji Rong would’ve assumed this was the original host’s ailing mother.
The woman looked familiar, but Ji Rong couldn’t quite place her. She shifted her attention to the man, Ji An.
As the City Lord of Xuanji, Ji An exuded a quiet authority.
But it wasn’t an oppressive kind of authority. It was the effortless nobility of someone born to lead.
Both he and the original Ji Rong had that innate air of distinction.
But still, when Old Man Yan in the secret realm said she and her father looked alike, he was clearly spouting nonsense.
Ji Rong and Ji An didn’t just look dissimilar. They looked completely unrelated.
One had the noble bearing of wealth and power; the other carried a cold, aloof kind of elegance.
There was a fundamental difference between the two.
Even if she examined their faces under a microscope, Ji Rong couldn’t find the faintest resemblance.
If someone told her the City Lord’s wife had cheated on him, she’d believe it.
As she silently roasted her situation, she kept a close eye on the man on the dais.
Ji An, puppet in hand, furrowed his brows and asked the woman beside him, “Guildmaster, can this puppet really cure my wife’s illness?”
The woman played with the puppet strings and smiled. “City Lord, in this world, beyond human effort, fate often decides the outcome. Some things are destined. Even if the Sword Saint herself were alive, she likely couldn’t change them.”
Ji An’s expression darkened. Just as he was about to press further, a muffled thump echoed from the entrance.
It sounded like a shoe hitting wood.
He frowned and turned toward the noise.
And what he saw made his eyes twitch, his daughter had stumbled over the threshold.
She nearly fell flat on her face.
Thankfully, Gu Baiyi reacted quickly and caught her in time. Otherwise, Ji Rong would’ve had a close encounter with the floor.
Ji An’s brow twitched again. When he confirmed she was unharmed, his stern expression finally eased.
He stepped down from the dais and studied her carefully for a long moment before a rare smile appeared on his face. “It’s been years since I last saw my daughter. You’ve grown into a fine young woman.”
Ji Rong was still reeling from what the woman had said earlier, “Even the Sword Saint couldn’t change fate.” The title weighed heavily on her.
It didn’t matter when or where, someone was always dragging the Sword Saint out as an example.
Still in a daze, she barely managed to respond to Ji An with a forced smile. “Yes… Father. It’s been a long time.”
The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to slap herself.
What the hell, Ji Rong?!
“Been a long time”?!
What are you, long-lost drinking buddies?
If she could rewind time, she’d take that line back and rewrite it entirely, hiding her identity with all her might.
But then…
[Ding! Ji An’s Favorability +100]
To Ji Rong’s surprise, Ji An didn’t seem suspicious at all. Instead, he nodded with gratification. “You’ve truly grown up, after all these years away. You even know to miss your parents now.”
Ji Rong: “……”
Wait, when did she say she missed them?!
Unbothered by her frozen expression, Ji An turned to the others and cupped his hands toward Jiang Fei. “Thank you, Young Friend Jiang, for escorting Changqin safely back to Xuanji City. I am deeply grateful.”
Jiang Fei returned the gesture with a smile. “City Lord Ji is too polite. Junior Sister Ji is my fellow disciple. It’s only right that I look after her.”
Ji An smiled faintly, then turned his gaze to Wei Zongqiu, clearly surprised.
This boy bore a strong resemblance to Prince Chu. He must be the heir currently cultivating at Bixue Peak.
Before Ji An could ask, Wei Zongqiu stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “Junior Wei Zongqiu greets City Lord Ji.”
Ah, so it was him.
Ji An nodded. “No need to be so formal, Your Highness. I believe the last time I saw your father, it was at a banquet in the capital. Time flies, look how much you’ve grown. It’s been years. How is your father these days?”
At the mention of Prince Chu, Wei Zongqiu’s expression stiffened slightly. After a pause, he said quietly, “Thank you for your concern. A year ago, my father was attacked by assassins and has remained in a coma since.”
Ji An froze for a moment, then offered his condolences with a solemn expression.
He signaled a guard to retrieve a box from the treasury, a box containing a thousand-year-old ginseng, and handed it to Wei Zongqiu. “If you don’t mind accepting this, Your Highness, take it with you. I don’t know medicine, so I can only offer this token of goodwill.”
“Thank you, Uncle Ji. I’ll be sure to deliver it to my father when I return.”
Wei Zongqiu accepted the box respectfully, though he knew full well it probably wouldn’t help.
He accepted it not for the ginseng’s value, but because one should never refuse a gift from an elder.
Ji An, though unfamiliar with Prince Chu personally, maintained all the proper courtesies. Seeing Wei Zongqiu accept the gift, he nodded in satisfaction.
Ji Rong watched this unfold with a bleeding heart.
A thousand-year ginseng worth a hundred thousand spirit jades!
Even in a game, she wouldn’t dare use such a treasure.
And her dad just gave it away like it was candy.
Is this the disparity of worlds?
While she was silently suffering, she didn’t notice Ji An narrow his eyes slightly when he looked at Gu Baiyi, his gaze turning faintly probing.
Gu Baiyi knew this was Ji Rong’s father and lowered her eyes respectfully. “Greetings, City Lord Ji.”
She hesitated over how to address herself, was she still a junior, or merely a guard?
After some thought, she decided to drop the formality altogether. That felt safest.
Ji An stared at the mask on Gu Baiyi’s face and murmured, “Strange… I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
Ji Rong blinked.
How would he have seen Gu Baiyi before?
Could it be… he knows she’s the Demon Lord?
To be safe, Ji Rong took an inconspicuous step forward, quietly positioning herself closer to Gu Baiyi.
If anything went wrong, she wanted to be able to protect the heroine in front of Ji An.
But before Gu Baiyi could respond, a pleasant and melodic voice rang out from above.
"The City Lord has quite the discerning eye."
Ji Rong looked up toward the steps and saw a woman playing with a spool of silk thread in one hand, while the other held a puppet.
Wearing a graceful smile, the woman descended the steps slowly and elegantly.
Her eyes remained fixed on Gu Baiyi as she spoke softly to Ji An.
"City Lord, she is my disciple."
…
A banquet had been laid out in the Taiping Hall.
Fine wine, exquisite dishes, music in the air, but the atmosphere was far from lively.
Only six people were seated inside the hall.
Ever since Madam Mo had claimed Gu Baiyi as her disciple, the mood had become peculiar. Besides Madam Mo, who drank merrily, the other five wore varying expressions.
Ji An sat at the leftmost seat, with his beloved daughter Ji Rong beside him.
He tried to engage her, frequently picking dishes for her and asking questions about her sect.
But he soon noticed that his daughter seemed distracted. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, and her gaze would now and then drift toward Madam Mo’s supposed disciple.
Because Madam Mo had made that declaration, Ji An had seated the two of them together.
Madam Mo sipped her wine with delight, as if she'd forgotten the bold claim she had just made.
After a couple of drinks, she noticed that her newly claimed "disciple" hadn't said a single word, nor touched much of the food.
She set down her cup and asked with a smile, "Disciple, is the food not to your liking?"
Gu Baiyi glanced at her coolly and shook her head.
"Then why the long face? You’re wasting such a fine banquet."
Madam Mo chuckled, then leaned in close to Gu Baiyi and spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear.
Just then, Ji Rong happened to glance up while picking at her food, and saw the scene.
She didn’t know why, but seeing Madam Mo lean so close, nearly pressing against Gu Baiyi’s shoulder, made her feel oddly uncomfortable.
She looked away, staring blankly at the colorful, fragrant food in her bowl, only to find it suddenly unappetizing.
When Ji Rong finally realized what she was feeling, she was a little stunned.
What the hell was wrong with her?
So what if they weren’t seated together? It wasn’t like she was still in grade school.
Determined, Ji Rong told herself not to look at Gu Baiyi again.
But her peripheral vision betrayed her, drawn irresistibly to the beautiful woman nearby.
She didn’t think of herself as petty or easily jealous, but she truly couldn’t figure out why Madam Mo had declared Gu Baiyi to be her disciple.
In the game, these two had never even met!
And what was stranger, Gu Baiyi hadn’t denied it.
It wasn’t that Gu Baiyi didn’t want to refute it, it was just that, given the situation, she had no other option but to accept the title.
Especially since any one of her hidden identities, if exposed, could mean death.
Besides, this was her first time meeting her senior sister’s father.
Everyone present here had status, whether it was the senior disciple of a major sect, or the heir of the King of Chu.
Only she was parentless, identity less… and the few identities she did have were best kept in the dark.
Gu Baiyi lowered her gaze and hid the shadow that passed through her eyes.
When she looked up again, her expression was calm. She subtly pulled away from Madam Mo’s approach.
Then, she sent a voice transmission directly into Madam Mo’s spiritual sea.
“Senior, why did you lie and claim to be my master?”
Madam Mo continued to toy with the puppet in her hands, silver threads dancing between her fingers, the corners of her lips curled into a faint, enigmatic smile.
Behind her mask, her eyes traced the delicate features of Gu Baiyi’s face as she replied through spiritual sound transmission:
“Because you’ve stirred my curiosity.”
Gu Baiyi raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why is that?”
“Even with a mask, your face reminds me of a puppet crafted by the Tiangong Workshop.”
Madam Mo’s smile deepened. Her voice was soft, almost wistful. “To be honest, it’s not just a resemblance. The contours are nearly identical. The only difference is… that puppet has sat untouched for almost a thousand years. It's lifeless.”
“But you… you're real. You can move, speak, and breathe. You're warm.”
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Note: Madam Mo isn’t a love rival, she’s just spent so many years making puppets that she hasn’t quite adjusted to the world of the living…
