"Whoosh—"
Mu Qingyun slipped fully beneath the surface of the water. Her entire frame sank below the gentle waves, leaving only her cast‐off clothing to drift down and settle neatly on the shore.
It was, in the most literal sense, a very empty sight to behold.
Su Qi locking his brow, realized he had not yet discerned what that pale object had been—only to have it instantly obscured by Mu Qingyun's garments. He watched as she lifted water and let it cascade over her shoulders, his cheeks burning with sudden self‐awareness. He felt, quite uncomfortably, like a fool hiding in the darkness to watch a man bathe.
"I am not a pervert," he muttered to himself. He examined the livestream device strapped to his wrist—already switched off for some time—and exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. He smoothed his own clothing, squared his shoulders, and stepped toward the shoreline. There was nothing perverse about his intentions; he simply could not shake his curiosity.
"Mu Qingyun."
That familiar voice sounded behind her. Mu Qingyun's body tensed at once, freezing as if carved from stone.
How had he approached so quietly?
She turned her head stiffly. There stood Su Qi, a faint, knowing smile on his lips. From his expression, it seemed he had not realized she was in fact a woman.
"What are you doing here?" Her heart pounded with sudden vigilance, though her face remained composed and unreadable. She hauled her hand up to cover her chest, the tide of heat rising in her cheeks as she stared at him with cool intensity.
"I could not sleep," Su Qi replied calmly. "I thought I would wander outside for a while. Do not worry—the livestream device is turned off. I just arrived."
He glanced down at the pile of clothing she had laid on the sand. Beneath that heap lay the very white object that had piqued his curiosity. He reached out instinctively to lift the garments—
"Do not touch!" Mu Qingyun snapped. Her sudden outburst startled Su Qi so completely that his hand froze in mid‐air. He looked up at her, bewildered by her intensity.
"Just go back to sleep." She recognized that her tone had been too harsh. Gently, she softened her voice, though her eyes remained sharp.
"I will wait for you," Su Qi said, withdrawing his hand. He settled onto a nearby rock, folding his arms around his knees and staring at her with an innocent air—as if he intended to simply wait until she was finished.
"That is unnecessary," Mu Qingyun responded flatly, annoyance flickering across her features. "Do as I say—go back. It is cold here, and the wind will give you a bad chill."
Su Qi's brow drew together in confusion. He understood that he himself had intruded into her privacy, but why was this reason enough to bar him from remaining at the shore?
Mu Qingyun felt her composure slipping. Her pulse accelerated as she issued one more command, voice threaded with ice: "Su Qi, return to the cave immediately. This is the last time I will ask."
"What is wrong?" Su Qi asked, his brow creasing with a mixture of curiosity and mild resentment. After all, he had only come because he had been curious—yet he also felt a certain unease at her cold manner.
Struggling to maintain his calm, he straightened. Mu Qingyun—still tense from fear of exposure—snatched a smooth stone from the water's edge and hurled it at him.
Yet Su Qi's reflexes were swift. The moment the stone tumbled toward him, his body jerked to the side, and he tumbled sideways onto the shore, avoiding the rock by the narrowest margin.
"Go away!" Mu Qingyun's voice echoed over the waves. She had not expected him to dodge so nimbly. In that moment of chaos, her mind had no energy left to question how and why he managed to move so quickly.
"Very well." A flicker of coldness passed through Su Qi's eyes. He rose from the sand and turned away, heading back toward the cave without another glance at her.
Mu Qingyun watched his retreating figure until he slipped out of sight, then allowed herself a long, shuddering breath.
She chided herself for lack of sufficient vigilance. Had Su Qi truly observed her entire bath, her secret would have been exposed. Though her teammates might not consider her cross‐dressing a cardinal offense, their every gesture and glance was broadcast to countless viewers. If they realized she was female, the dynamic of their daily interactions would shift imperceptibly at first—yet inevitably, someone would notice. In the rigorous trials of the military academy, a woman held no advantage.
Lost in these thoughts, Mu Qingyun extended her right hand, summoning a ring of living flame that circled her position. At last, she permitted herself to relax behind that barrier of fire.
From her pouch, she produced the small bottle of body wash Su Qi had given her. A pang of remorse flickered through her mind—she had treated him too coldly just now, out of fear. Perhaps she would make amends.
She squeezed a small dollop of the pale pink foam into her palm and stared at it in wonder. Tiny bubbles surfaced, and the liquid carried a gentle, floral fragrance. Recalling how to apply it from memory, she smoothed the foam along her arms; within moments, thick lather formed.
The scent was intoxicating.
After cleansing herself until the terracotta hue of dirt was gone, she retrieved her clothes and turned her back, tucking the binding carefully around her chest. Once the garments were back in place, she extinguished the flames behind her.
Now clean, she tested her plant‐sense. Fingertips aglow with emerald light, she probed the water's depths for any sign of flora. To her astonishment, something responded.
Below the surface, a leafy tendril burst forth and, within moments, floated into her palm.
It was sea lettuce—Ulva, known colloquially as sea cabbage. Mu Qingyun's lips curved into a delighted smile. In this polluted sea, she had not expected to find any edible marine vegetation.
She stowed the sea lettuce in her pouch, but the green glow in her palm persisted. Clearly, more plant life lay hidden beneath. She plunged her hand into the water once more.
This time, she grasped a slender, ribbon‐like frond. Slowly pulling it free, she held up a strand of nori—edible seaweed, shimmering black in the moonlight.
How extraordinary, she thought. This lightly polluted water had offered her gifts. On this planet, contamination and ecological loss had erased nearly all knowledge of marine produce. Neither the sea lettuce nor this nori existed in the original timeline's memory.
If she were cooking a meal, sea lettuce alone would suffice—it was unmistakably a vegetable. But many might pass by nori, never realizing its true nature. Its unassuming appearance made it easy to overlook.
Pocketing both discoveries, she turned to make her way back to the cave.
As Mu Qingyun approached the cave entrance, she felt a sudden chill graze her skin—an invisible gaze, cold and searching. Her heart stuttered. Quickly, she scanned the darkness outside, but saw nothing but shadows and stone.
Frowning, she resisted investigating further. With steady steps, she entered the cave and seated herself in her usual spot.
Instinctively, she looked toward Su Qi. His eyes were closed—he appeared to be asleep. Yet Mu Qingyun knew better than to trust appearances; there was something unusual about him.
She dismissed her anxieties with a brief nod. Aside from the Emperor—who loathed her very existence—no true enemy was present. Su Qi bore no hallmarks of Imperial design.
As long as he posed no threat, she did not truly care what he intended.
Mu Qingyun leaned back and closed her eyes, allowing the soft glow of her internal energy to soothe her racing thoughts.