After Yan Qi and her doppelgangers left the Ma family villa, the official personnel from the Modu Supernatural Affairs Bureau finally arrived.
Earlier, when they had received their colleague’s distress call about the Ma family being attacked by multiple supernatural beings, everyone at the bureau had braced themselves for a fierce battle.
Before setting out, many agents hastily borrowed pens and paper to write their wills, preparing for the worst.
Once the wills were safely stored in the archives, the fully armed Modu agents boarded their vehicles and rushed to the Ma residence at top speed.
But when they arrived, they were met with an unexpected sight—unconscious criminal supernaturals sprawled across the living room floor, and Gan Lin standing there completely unharmed.
The heavily armed agents exchanged bewildered glances, utterly confused about what had just happened.
While Gan Lin was busy explaining the situation to his colleagues, Yan Qi had already returned to her home in Fengcheng via the internet.
“Who would’ve thought Little Fangfang’s family would be attacked by supernaturals tonight? If I hadn’t stepped in, they’d all be dead by now.”
Lying on her bed, Yan Qi stared at the ceiling and silently mused to herself.
After a moment, she sat up, no longer content to just lie around. She decided to continue her cultivation.
Tonight’s transformation and combat had given her a much clearer understanding of her current strength.
For instance, the duration of her transformations had increased severalfold compared to before her breakthrough. The time she could control her doppelgangers in battle had similarly extended.
But that wasn’t the most important part.
The key takeaway was that even while transformed, she could now wield the supernatural power cultivated by her original body in combat.
Admittedly, her original body’s strength was still weak—perhaps not even on par with a newly empowered one-star supernatural. In her transformed state, this extra power barely made a difference in her overall combat effectiveness.
But Yan Qi’s original strength would continue growing over time. Eventually, it would reach the same level as her transformation cards.
When that day came, the power of her original body would no longer be negligible during transformations.
Moreover, she could use her original strength to assist transformation cards that lacked combat abilities, helping them gain experience through battle.
It was precisely because of these thoughts that Yan Qi refused to grow complacent, despite her obvious progress.
Greedy by nature, she was far from satisfied.
So, as usual, she pushed herself to keep cultivating.
…..
Time passed quickly, and a week later, it was Monday—just under two weeks before the college entrance exams.
That day, with both her parents out (her father at work, her mother shopping with friends), Yan Qi sat cross-legged on her bed as usual, eyes closed, silently absorbing the surrounding spiritual energy.
Sensing that her mother would be home soon and realizing she hadn’t started lunch yet, Yan Qi stopped cultivating. She opened her eyes, stretched lazily, and glanced at her bedroom floor with a faint smile.
Then, she stood up and casually leaped off the bed—straight toward the floor.
Normally, jumping from a bed to the floor wouldn’t take much time, and there should at least be some sound.
But Yan Qi didn’t plummet like a lead weight.
Instead, she floated like a dandelion seed, lingering in the air for several seconds before gently landing on the floor.
Not a single sound was made the entire time.
“Hmm, not bad for the auxiliary Daoist technique ‘Light Body Art.’ It might not let me float freely like Empress Daoyan, but hovering for over ten seconds is already satisfying.”
Looking down at her delicate, fair feet, Yan Qi—who had only just mastered the technique last night—couldn’t help but inwardly praise herself.
Then, she slipped on her slippers and left her room, heading downstairs to the kitchen.
After spending about ten minutes preparing lunch, she set the rice cooker timer and waited for her mother to return.
Humming a little tune she’d made up, Yan Qi wandered back to the living room and plopped onto the sofa. She pulled out her phone, about to call her mom to check on her whereabouts.
But before she could dial, a notification popped up on her screen.
Having long since reconnected her phone to the internet for convenience, Yan Qi immediately recognized the message as coming from a chat app she’d programmed herself—one that couldn’t be traced, thanks to her electronic songstress persona.
Remembering the incident at Ma Fangfang’s house the previous Monday, Yan Qi set aside the call and tapped the notification, opening the chat app.
Seeing that the message was from Bai Yuling, the head of Fengcheng’s Supernatural Affairs Bureau, Yan Qi frowned at first. But recalling why she’d given Bai her contact info in the first place, she quickly relaxed.
She must have something important to discuss.
Tapping Bai Yuling’s profile picture to open the chat, Yan Qi began typing:
[Yan Qi (as Hu Yao’er)]: Auntie Bai, why are you messaging me all of a sudden?
In her office, Bai Yuling—who had just received orders from higher-ups—quickly typed back upon seeing the reply:
[Bai Yuling]: Little Hu, our bureau needs your friend Daoyan’s help with something. Can you contact her?
Reading the message, Yan Qi smirked. She had expected this.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she typed her response…