Su Luo and Ji Hei trudged back to the village, intent on finding a household to glean some information from.
As luck would have it, they spotted an old woman and a young boy dining in the courtyard of a modest home.
An elderly woman and a child—both seemed like easy targets to coax answers from.
With a shared glance, Su Luo and Ji Hei approached, curiosity piqued.
Before they could get close, the old woman’s voice cut through the air, sharp and reedy, like a eunuch’s from some melodramatic TV show.
Paired with her wrinkled, weathered face, it carried an eerie, almost cinematic chill that could’ve belonged in a horror flick.
Su Luo and Ji Hei didn’t dismiss the scene as mere idle chatter between grandmother and grandson.
There was a good chance this story held clues to the larger puzzle.
So, they listened intently, hanging on every word.
“Long, long ago,” the old woman began, her voice weaving a tale, “the cat clan lived alongside other animals on this beautiful continent. One day, the Heavenly God descended and bestowed upon us a task: to become one of the twelve zodiac animals. Only the first twelve to reach the Heavenly Gate would earn that divine honor and remain on this land. “
She added, “We made a pact with our friends, the rats, agreeing they’d wake us early, and we’d carry them to the gate. But the treacherous rats betrayed us. They didn’t wake us and scurried off alone. By the time we cats stirred, it was too late. We missed our chance at divinity and were banished from the zodiac continent, forced to scrape by in this forsaken place.”
The boy, clearly bored, yawned.
“I’ve heard this story since I was born. I’m sick of it!”
The old woman, patient as stone, gently stroked his fur, soothing him with slow, deliberate pats.
Once the boy’s mood softened, she leaned in, her voice warm but probing.
“Tell me, child, if we ever escape this place, what’s the first thing you’d do?”
The boy didn’t hesitate, his answer as rehearsed as a mantra.
“I’d wipe out every rat on the mainland!”
The old woman nodded, her eyes glinting with approval.
Su Luo and Ji Hei exchanged a heavy look, their steps slow as they approached the pair.
Su Luo’s mind churned.
The cats’ hatred for the rats ran deep, and no wonder—the rats’ betrayal was a low blow.
In the zodiac tale, the rat had also outsmarted the ox to claim first place.
The ox lost only its pride, but the cats?
They lost their home, their chance to live on the mainland.
If Su Luo were in their paws, she’d be seething too.
As they reached the courtyard, Ji Hei spoke first, his tone polite and measured.
“Good day, ma’am.”
But before the old woman could respond, the boy’s voice rang out, shrill and accusing.
“Ugh, they smell awful!”
He swallowed hard, his eyes gleaming oddly.
The old woman’s face twisted with disgust, her tone sharp.
“Who are you? What do you want? I’ve never seen you in this village before.”
Awful?
Su Luo’s brow furrowed as a thought struck her.
She remembered the perfume in her suitcase.
At first, she’d thought it was just a frivolous accessory for a refined girl.
Now, it seemed more like a necessity for situations like this.
Her gaze flicked to Ji Hei instinctively.
Perfume made sense for her, but did he have any?
She wasn’t about to ask.
They were temporary allies, nothing more, and she wasn’t some bleeding heart ready to share her resources.
If Ji Hei didn’t have perfume and she refused to give him hers, their fragile partnership could crumble.
Worse, she might make an enemy of him.
Ji Hei caught her glance and tilted his head slightly, a silent question.
Su Luo gave a subtle shake of her head, lowering her eyes to hide her thoughts.
Ji Hei turned back to the old woman, his voice steady.
“We’re from…”
He faltered, and Su Luo knew why.
They’d planned to say they were outsiders, but now they knew no cats could come from beyond this place.
Their cover story was useless.
What could they say?
The pause stretched, and the old woman and boy’s expressions shifted.
The warmth and innocence they’d shown earlier drained away, replaced by something predatory.
The boy licked his lips, his gaze turning hungry, as if they were prey.
In moments of crisis, Su Luo’s mind sharpened.
She spoke up, her voice calm but firm.
“We don’t know how it happened. We woke up outside, wandered for ages, and finally stumbled across this village.”
Ji Hei, regaining his composure, chimed in.
“Yeah, where we’re from isn’t even called the zodiac continent. I hesitated because I thought you wouldn’t believe us.”
The lie was seven parts truth, three parts fiction.
It worked.
The old woman and boy’s gazes softened, the tension dissipating like a storm passing.
“Oh, you’re from another realm,” the old woman said, her tone almost dismissive.
“We get a few of your kind here sometimes. Nothing to fuss about. Now, off with you—your smell is too much for me to bear.”
Bear what?
Most people would shy away from a bad odor, but here, it seemed to stir something else entirely.
Su Luo and Ji Hei left the courtyard, retracing their steps in silence.
As they walked, they began to talk.
“We can’t let them know who we really are,” Ji Hei said, his voice low and serious.
“If they find out, we’re as good as dead. That smell of ours? It’s not just offensive to them—it’s like it… whets their appetite.”
Su Luo hesitated before voicing her own observation.
“You’re right. It’s not just disgust. It’s like they’re hungry for us.”
She shivered.
“We’re different species, after all.”
Their conversation flowed easily as they made their way back to the inn.
By the time they arrived, it was nearly four in the afternoon.
The group had agreed to meet at four, but by four-thirty, only five of them had gathered.
Little Ming, the missing one, was likely already a goner.
To Su Luo’s surprise, only one person had fallen in a mission this perilous.
It meant the others weren’t as simple as they seemed.
“Anyone got any intel to share?” Brother Hu broke the silence, his voice gruff.
But no one spoke up.
The group stood in awkward stillness, unwilling to part with hard-earned secrets.
With a scoff, Shuibei turned and headed to their room.
The others followed suit, dispersing to their own corners.
Back in her room, Su Luo opened her suitcase.
The hair she’d tucked into the zipper was still in place—no one had tampered with it.
She exhaled, relieved, then carefully hid her belongings in a discreet spot, leaving only clothes in the bag.
Only then did she allow herself to relax.
It was only four-thirty, and dinner was still ahead.
Su Luo’s mind turned to the cosmetics.
She needed to get her hands on someone else’s without drawing attention.
After today, it’d be much harder to pull off.
Restless, she stood.
Little Ming was gone, but his belongings were likely untouched in his room.
Without hesitation, Su Luo slipped out, heading for the third room—the one no one had entered during their awkward dispersal.
But when she got there, Ji Hei was already inside.
Too late.
She sighed inwardly.
Ji Hei looked up, unsurprised, and dangled a bottle of cosmetics with a smirk.
“First come, first served. You’re late.”
Su Luo could only sigh.
She’d moved fast—within five minutes of their return—but Ji Hei was faster.
So she turned to leave.
“Wait!” Ji Hei called after her.
She glanced back, her expression questioning.
“Want to head out again after dinner?” he asked, his tone casual.
Su Luo gave a noncommittal nod and left.
Behind her, Ji Hei’s lips curved into a silent smile.
‘Smart, calm under pressure, trustworthy, and complementary to my strengths,’ he thought.
‘The perfect teammate.’
Su Luo, oblivious to his scheming, was already plotting her next move.
Getting another set of cosmetics was her priority.
She knocked on Little Hua’s door.
“Knock, knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Su Luo.”
The door swung open, and Little Hua blinked in surprise.
“You? What do you want?”
She clearly hadn’t expected someone like Su Luo—poised and polished—to come knocking.
Su Luo leaned into her persona, her tone haughty.
“My room’s short on cosmetics. I need to borrow some for my makeup.”
Then, as if bestowing a favor, she added, “I’ll trade you a piece of intel for it.”
Little Hua’s eyes lit up, and she ushered Su Luo inside.
She’d ventured out alone earlier, too scared to ask questions after witnessing Little Ming’s gruesome fate—an NPC with a cat-like face had devoured him after he’d said something wrong.
She’d fled back to the inn, empty-handed.
‘This rich girl probably has that black-clad guy doing all her dirty work,’ Little Hua thought, sizing Su Luo up.
‘She doesn’t know how valuable intel is. If she wants my cosmetics, she can have them—I’m not taking this makeup off anytime soon.’
If Su Luo knew what Little Hua was thinking, she’d have laughed.
Not only did their plans align perfectly, but mistaking Ji Hei for a lackey?
That was rich.
Inside the room, Su Luo picked up Little Hua’s cosmetics, holding the bottle to the light with a disdainful sniff.
“No brand name, and it doesn’t even look high-quality. I hope this doesn’t ruin my delicate skin.”