Chapter 3 – Whispers in the Hall

The sect was rarely quiet. By dawn, the courtyards rang with disciples practicing sword forms, the clang of steel echoing against stone walls. Yet beneath the usual rhythm, another sound lingered—hushed voices.

Lyra heard them the moment she stepped outside her pavilion.

“…She saved them, didn’t she?”

“Impossible. Lady Ying Yue never lifts a hand unless it’s for herself.”

“Then why risk her life yesterday?”

“Maybe it was a trick. She wants Senior Brother Ruan’s favor again.”

Their words clung like burrs to her skin. She kept her head bowed, pretending not to hear, though every step grew heavier.

Inside, Lyra seethed. No matter what I do, it’s never enough. In the book, Huang Ying Yue dug her own grave by scheming. But if I try to change—if I try to do good—they still see me as her.

A familiar voice cut through the whispers.

“Clear the path.”

Cassian Ruan strode into the courtyard, the morning sun glinting on his blade. Disciples immediately parted, bowing low. His gaze swept the crowd, cool and disinterested—until it landed on her.

Lyra froze.

For a heartbeat, his eyes lingered on her face, searching, measuring. She held her breath, refusing to look away. But then he turned, his robe trailing like shadow, leaving without a word.

The whispers flared louder behind him.

“…She followed him again?”

“Of course. She’s shameless.”

Her fists clenched.

Later that day, Lyra sat alone in the library pavilion, tracing her fingers over ancient scrolls. She wasn’t looking for techniques or power—her body couldn’t handle them yet. Instead, she searched for knowledge Huang Ying Yue had ignored: healing methods, cultivation stabilizers, anything that could buy her time in this fragile vessel.

A shadow fell across the table.

“You’re studying?”

Her head snapped up. One of the junior disciples she had saved yesterday stood there awkwardly, his face flushed. He bowed deeply. “Lady Ying Yue… I just… wanted to thank you. Again. If not for you, Senior Sister and I…”

Lyra softened, offering a small smile. “Be careful next time. Training grounds can be dangerous.”

His eyes widened. For a moment, he looked as though he might speak more—but then another disciple appeared at the doorway, glaring. He seized the boy’s arm.

“Don’t be fooled,” the newcomer hissed. “She’s only pretending.”

The two left quickly, but not before casting her one last wary glance.

The smile slipped from Lyra’s lips.

Pretending. That’s all they see.

When she returned to her pavilion that evening, Cassian was already waiting inside.

His presence filled the room, a storm held barely at bay. He stood near the window, arms folded, watching the glow of lanterns in the distance.

“You’re drawing attention again,” he said, voice low.

Lyra stiffened. “I didn’t—”

“You saved those disciples. You read in the library. You smile at juniors who should fear you.” His gaze turned on her, sharp as a blade. “Whatever game you’re playing, it won’t work on me.”

“I’m not playing a game.” Her words came out softer than she intended, but steady.

He moved closer. Lantern light caught in his dark eyes, revealing something unreadable. “Then what are you doing?”

For a long time, she couldn’t answer. The truth—that she wasn’t Huang Ying Yue at all—was a secret she could never reveal.

So she met his suspicion with the only answer she could give. “Trying.”

His brow furrowed. “…Trying?”

“To be different.” Her voice trembled, but she held his gaze. “Even if no one believes me.”

Silence stretched. The only sound was the faint crackle of the lantern.

At last, Cassian’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press further. He turned away, his tone clipped. “Then prove it.”

The door shut behind him, leaving her in the quiet.

Lyra sank onto the bed, pressing her hands over her face. The sting of tears threatened, but she swallowed them back.

Prove it… But how, when even saving lives brands me a liar?

Yet despite her despair, her chest flickered with the smallest ember of resolve.