Although Lu Li’s previous answers had dispelled much of Fu Shangyu and Gu Qingying’s doubts, Fu Shangyu still couldn’t fully relax.
She continued probing him.
“Master, don’t be angry. I was just joking earlier to liven up the mood.”
Fu Shangyu first soothed him softly.
Then she quietly picked up a piece of pastry and placed it into Lu Li’s bowl.
Her tone shifted slightly.
Her expression turned serious.
“But… if you’re not troubled by some kind of romantic matter, then recently you’ve seemed very distracted. You often look like you have something on your mind. Your brows sometimes furrow unconsciously, as if you’re worrying about something.”
She studied Lu Li carefully, slowing her speech word by word.
“Master… are you hiding something from me and Senior Brother Gu?”
In the kitchen, Gu Qingying, who had just relaxed a little, instantly tensed again upon hearing this question.
She held her breath and quietly listened to the movement outside.
Lu Li’s hand, which was about to pick up the pastry, paused almost imperceptibly in midair.
Fu Shangyu’s question struck directly at the core of his current dilemma.
He recalled what Zhou Ruolin had told him—about keeping the frequent nightmares in the city and the possible demonic cultivator disturbances within the secret realm trial confidential from his disciples.
Then he looked at Fu Shangyu’s concerned eyes and felt immediate difficulty.
Tell the truth?
It would violate his promise to the Jin Emperor and might also drag his two disciples into unknown danger.
Lie?
That would be deceiving the disciples who trusted him.
For a moment, his eyes flickered with hesitation.
His throat moved slightly as he tried to find an excuse.
Finally, he avoided Fu Shangyu’s sharp gaze, lowered his head, and stirred the food in his bowl.
His voice came out slightly dry and lacking confidence.
“It’s nothing. What could I be hiding from you two? It’s just… matters regarding the sect competition and the secret realm trial. A bit mentally exhausting, that’s all. Don’t overthink it.”
At that moment—
The Lie-Detecting Talisman in Fu Shangyu’s hand, which had been emitting a steady green glow, suddenly trembled violently.
Like a stone thrown into still water, the green light instantly faded and was replaced by a piercing red glow.
Red—blatantly red.
Fu Shangyu’s smile froze instantly.
Even though she had been mentally prepared, seeing the talisman turn red still made her heart sink hard.
“Red…! Master… he lied! He really is hiding something from us!”
In the kitchen, Gu Qingying, who sensed the change through the linked talisman, stiffened as well.
Her hands trembled slightly, and the light in her purple eyes dimmed, replaced by confusion and a trace of hurt.
‘Master… why would you lie to us?’
But neither of them showed it outwardly.
Fu Shangyu quickly lowered her lashes, hiding the storm in her eyes.
When she looked up again, she was back to her usual carefree smile, as if nothing had happened.
“Oh, so that’s how it is! The sect competition and secret realm trial must be exhausting. Master, you’ve worked hard!”
She even added lightly, almost playfully,
“Make sure you rest well! Don’t overwork yourself!”
Gu Qingying also walked out of the kitchen, carrying a bowl of calming soup.
“Master, the soup is ready. Drink it while it’s hot. It can soothe your mind and replenish energy.”
Their eyes met briefly in midair.
Both saw shock and seriousness in each other’s gaze—and both understood the same decision.
For now, they would not expose anything.
Lu Li, seeing that his explanation seemed accepted, secretly relaxed.
The guilt in his heart eased slightly.
He took the soup and nodded.
“Mm. You two have put in the effort.”
Breakfast continued seemingly peacefully, but an undercurrent had formed beneath the surface.
After the meal, Lu Li stood up.
“I’ll return to my room to meditate for a while and stabilize my cultivation from last night.”
“Yes, Master.”
The two of them respectfully watched him leave.
Only after Lu Li’s door closed and his aura was fully isolated did the atmosphere in the hall shift.
Fu Shangyu’s smile vanished instantly, replaced by cold seriousness.
She turned abruptly, grabbed Gu Qingying’s wrist, and pulled her toward her own room.
“Come with me!”
Inside the room, she immediately set up a sound-isolation barrier.
Once it activated, Fu Shangyu let go and turned back sharply.
“Did you see it? The talisman turned red. Master is definitely hiding something from us.”
Gu Qingying frowned slightly, still hesitant.
“But… the first two questions were green. That means Master doesn’t have a romantic partner or any intention in that regard. That’s good news, isn’t it?”
Fu Shangyu exhaled sharply, visibly annoyed.
“You’re thinking too simply.”
Her tone sharpened.
“What matters isn’t what we confirmed—it’s the question he avoided at the end.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“That means there’s an unknown variable.”
She began analyzing rapidly.
“Let’s assume what he’s hiding is related to the Jin Emperor’s task. Then why did he return much later than expected last night?”
Gu Qingying blinked.
“Maybe he met someone on the way… or stopped somewhere?”
Fu Shangyu gave a cold laugh.
“Stopped somewhere? Talked casually for that long? And came back with that subtle, unusual expression?”
Her voice lowered.
“I think… he wasn’t alone when he returned.”
Gu Qingying’s expression changed.
“You mean… someone accompanied him?”
Fu Shangyu’s gaze sharpened.
“And that ‘someone’—from Master’s perspective—might not even be recognized as a woman.”
A chilling possibility formed between them.
“Just like us,” Fu Shangyu said slowly.
“If someone disguised themselves as a man, approached him as a ‘fellow daoist’ or ‘brother’, would he be guarded against them?”
Gu Qingying went silent.
Fu Shangyu’s thoughts spiraled further.
Images surfaced in her mind—the masked Regent Zhou Yan, and the veiled sword cultivator Jian Mingzi they had encountered last night.
Both of them had felt suspicious.
‘What if one of them… or both… are actually women in disguise?’
Gu Qingying’s face paled slightly.
“This… this is just speculation.”
Fu Shangyu stepped closer, her tone firm and almost obsessive.
“Even speculation is enough when it comes to Master’s safety.”
Her voice sharpened like a blade.
“We cannot take this lightly.”
Her eyes burned with determination.
“We investigate. We find out exactly where Master went during that missing time last night—and who he met.”
Gu Qingying frowned, still conflicted, but the unease in her heart had already taken root.
Because one fact remained undeniable:
There was an unexplained gap in time.
And something—or someone—had clearly entered their Master’s world without them knowing.