Chapter 25: A Craft

**Chapter 24: I’m Here to Kill You — And This Time, It’s Really Me**

She was the real one.

The woman who’d met him at the bridge before—she must’ve been her sister. They looked nearly identical.

“Mm,” she said.

“You’re here to visit me?” Zhu Minglang asked.

Wait—was he in jail? Why did it sound like a *visit*?

“I’m here to kill you,” she said, voice light, almost bored.

Zhu Minglang blinked. “Then why didn’t you do it earlier?”

She stepped forward, her heels clicking softly on the wooden floor—steady, rhythmic, like a metronome counting down time.

Closer now, he could see her face clearly.

It was Li Yunzi. The same icy grace, the same haughty elegance that seemed carved into her bones. Cold beauty wrapped in quiet power.

“I understand,” Zhu Minglang said seriously. “These past days, everyone in Zulong City-State has been talking about it—spreading filth, tearing open your wounds with their filthy tongues. While I’ve been safe here, feeding dragons, reading books. Fate handed us two different paths, but only you had to carry the weight of it all.”

He nodded slowly.

“You don’t hate me?” she asked.

“I do,” he admitted. “I can’t beat you.”

“Any last words?” she continued.

“I thought you were different from other women,” he said. “That even after such humiliation, you wouldn’t lash out at others. You were… unique in my eyes. But whatever. Thanks for the academy letter. It gave me a good few years at the Dragon Taming Academy.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows lifted slightly. A faint curve appeared at the corner of her crimson lips. “She sent you the admission letter?”

“She?” Zhu Minglang frowned.

“Li Yunzi,” she said.

Zhu Minglang stared at her.

Then it hit him—the moment in the dungeon when Li Yunzi had whispered, *“I’m sick.”*

Now, looking at her, he realized: she wasn’t just sick. She was *broken.*

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“So this is the beggar girl who brought down Li Yunzi from her throne? Who caused all this chaos across the city? Hah. And yet, Li Yunzi spared your life… let you into the Dragon Taming Academy…” Her tone dripped with mockery.

Zhu Minglang stood frozen, stunned by the sudden shift in her demeanor.

“You’re not Li Yunzi,” he whispered. “You’re Nan Lingsha!”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m Li Yunzi’s younger sister.”

“Twins?” Zhu Minglang stammered, heart pounding.

*Twins?!*

No way. How hadn’t he seen it?

Li Yunzi and Nan Lingsha—identical twins!

And he’d never guessed.

Who would’ve thought such divine beauty came in *two*?

“She takes her father’s name. I take my mother’s. She’s in the Li family. I’m in the Nan clan,” she said coldly, as if reciting a fact long buried.

“This… this… this is insane!” Zhu Minglang sputtered.

It was too much. Too fast. Too wild.

Li Yunzi had a sister—Nan Lingsha. But no one had ever told him they were twins.

No wonder the head of the Li household had said, *“Li Yunzi is Li Yunzi. Nan Lingsha is Nan Lingsha.”* If they looked alike, and Li Yunzi’s honor was ruined—then so was her sister’s.

What kind of curse had he unleashed?

“Because of you,” she snapped, “I have to wear a veil every time I leave the house. If it weren’t for those who know we’re twins, I’d be ruined already!”

She’d been testing him. At first, she hadn’t even known for sure he was the one.

That explained why Li Yunzi had seemed… off today.

Zhu Minglang stared at the woman standing before him—so like Li Yunzi, yet so unlike her. His emotions wavered between relief and dread.

Relief: Li Yunzi was still Li Yunzi. She hadn’t come to kill him.

Dread: What the hell was he supposed to do with *this* one?

He’d slipped up.

“Uh… Miss Lingsha,” he began carefully, “some things aren’t what you think. Maybe you should go ask your sister. She can tell you exactly who I am.”

“Do you really think we’re close?” she sneered. “Maybe she blames *me* for her downfall.”

“Uh…” Zhu Minglang scratched his head. *What now?*

She circled him slowly, eyes sharp, judging, like a queen surveying a traitor.

Zhu Minglang shut his mouth. Words were dangerous.

Li Yunzi should’ve warned him.

“You look… decent enough,” she said. “So why are people calling you a lowborn beggar covered in sores? Why the rumors of filth and shame?”

“Well,” Zhu Minglang said with a grin, “I *am* kind of handsome, right?”

She shot him a look—pure disdain. Never in her life had she met someone so shameless.

“Tell me the truth,” she demanded. “And make it good. If I’m not satisfied, those will be your final words.”

Her eyes narrowed, fierce and beautiful—like a storm behind glass.

“Fine,” Zhu Minglang sighed. “Since you’re also a victim…”

“Shut up!” she snapped, cheeks flushing. “We have *nothing* in common!”

“…Right,” Zhu Minglang muttered, staring at his own nose. Mind wandering far away.

“Speak!”

“But you told me to shut up!”

“NOW! TELL ME! THE! TRUTH!” Her teeth clenched so hard, he swore he heard them grind.

She forced herself to calm, each word enunciated like a blade.

Zhu Minglang took a breath. Facing this furious twin, honesty was the only path.

“It started like this,” he began. “I lived south of Sang Town—had mulberry trees, farmland, a quiet life. Then those Wutu bandits showed up—rude, violent, stole everything I had. That’s how I ended up on the streets. And then… fate played its cruel joke. The poisoned soup… that was the real disaster.”

“Why do you sound like a street storyteller?” she asked dryly.

“Every word is true, ma’am,” he insisted.

She studied him—his face, his posture, the way he held himself. And beneath her scrutiny, something stirred.

Too much resemblance. Even the way she moved—same height, same frame, same subtle tilt of the chin.

*Could twins really share a soul?*
Stop it. *Stop it, Zhu Minglang!*
You’re not thinking straight.

“Even so,” she said coldly, “you’re still just a commoner. And the rumors about you? They’re worse than dirt.”

She thought of the insults hurled at her—because of *him*. The whispers. The laughter. The way people pointed fingers, blaming her for a crime she didn’t commit.

She wanted to kill him. Right now.

But would killing him truly fix anything?

She glanced at him—his worn clothes, his tired eyes, his quiet dignity.

Then it struck her.

Her breath caught.

“I see now,” she murmured, eyes locking onto his. “This is why Li Yunzi spared your life.”

Zhu Minglang blinked.

“If you died,” she said, “you’d die as a beggar—a nameless, filthy wanderer. And the stain on her title would remain forever tied to a gutter rat. But if you live… you’ll rise. Even if you become just a lowly dragon tamer, you’ll be better than a beggar. That’s why she gave you the letter. That’s how she heals.”

Her voice turned icy.

“Li Yunzi… is this your way of healing? By letting the world forget you’re a beggar?”

Zhu Minglang opened his mouth—but nothing came out.

He hadn’t thought that deep.

“Maybe she’s just kind-hearted,” he offered weakly.

“Kind-hearted?” She laughed—a harsh, bitter sound. “She’s killed enough to fill the entire River Li-chuan.”

Li Yunzi—the War Goddess. The Iron Lady of Zulong City-State. Her reputation for bloodshed had spread across kingdoms and borders.

Zhu Minglang just smiled. Said nothing.

But the silence spoke volumes.

These two sisters weren’t close. Not at all.

*Thump. Thump. Thump.*

Footsteps approached—loud, energetic. A group of young men, full of fire and bravado, arguing about the Eastern Bastion.

“Ro Xiao’s *Ten Thousand Slain*? That’s insane! Why haven’t we heard of him before? He wiped out the Wutu scum—now they dare not cross our border!”

“The glory of war builds legends fast,” another said. “Everyone in Zulong’s heard of Ro Xiao by now.”

“And the West—Lingxiao City-State—is stirring again. I wish my Reaperbeast would turn into a Reaperdragon already!”

“They say Ro Xiao’s name alone terrifies the Wutu. He slaughtered the whole city of Yongcheng. Now the rebels run at the sound of his name!”

“Speaking of Yongcheng…” a slimy voice cut in. “You know what happened there?”

“Everyone knows,” someone replied.

“I’ve got the latest version,” the voice continued. “They say the Lady-Queen was always… *promiscuous*. Back when she fought in the west against Lingxiao, there were rumors she made strong soldiers serve her in her tent—*every night*.”

The boys laughed—low, lewd, giddy.

They were dressed in fine robes, polished boots, faces smooth and noble. But here, in the library’s shadow, they forgot their purpose. Their voices dropped to whispers. Their laughter turned ugly.

Zhu Minglang and Nan Lingsha stood behind the bookshelves.

As the footsteps drew near, she quickly pulled on her veil.

But her eyes—those piercing, storm-gray eyes—were already glowing with cold fury.

She wasn’t just angry.

She was ready to kill.