[Great Qi, Study of the Prince of Zhan's Manor]
In the dead of night, only a single, dim oil lamp flickered in the study. Crimson Nine stood expressionless before the desk, looking at Xiao Zhan.
The man who was supposed to be the prestigious Prince of Zhan, dressed in fine brocade, had now changed into coarse linen clothes. He sat sprawling on a long wooden bench, his phoenix eyes slightly narrowed, radiating a contradictory aura of innate laziness and undeniable nobility.
"Are you certain you want a face that is 'mediocre, ordinary, and impossible to find in a crowd'?" Crimson Nine raised an eyebrow, her fingertips picking up a blob of sticky disguise paste.
"Ning'er, a Prince's word is his bond." Xiao Zhan turned his head solemnly, his gaze locking with hers. He didn't actually care how ugly he became. What he cared about was that in a place as treacherous as Southern Tang, he had to see her with his own eyes.
"Fine. You asked for this." A faint, cunning smile touched the corners of Crimson Nine's lips—one that looked particularly mischievous in the dim light.
She leaned down, the distance between them closing instantly. Xiao Zhan could even smell the faint scent of soapberry and that unique, crisp aura of a professional agent on her. His breath hitched, and his gaze involuntarily drifted down to her focused eyes.
Crimson Nine's fingertips were cold yet incredibly agile. She spread the paste evenly over his god-like face, then produced specialized needles and brushes to "reshape" his features. The bridge of his high nose was flattened, his deep double eyelids were taped into single lids, and his perfectly thin lips were painted thicker.
"Does that 'Blue One'... also know how to disguise?" Xiao Zhan suddenly spoke in a low voice, his tone tinged with an undetectable hint of jealousy.
Crimson Nine, who was busy refining his jawline, paused. She shot him a puzzled look. "He isn't good at disguises. He only understands equipment so functional it feels like a cheat code. He was the Chief of a top-tier R&D department."
Though he didn't understand what "R&D" meant, hearing the affirmation in her voice regarding Blue One's abilities made the stuffiness in Xiao Zhan's chest grow. He let out a cold snort and was about to say more when Crimson Nine pinched his chin firmly.
"Don't move. I'm applying the beard." Her tone turned cold, as if she were commanding a disobedient soldier. Xiao Zhan had no choice but to shut his mouth and let her continue her work.
An hour later, Crimson Nine finally packed away her tools and dusted off her hands, looking satisfied with her "masterpiece."
"Alright. Go take a look in the mirror, 'Old Zhang the Groom'."
Xiao Zhan stood and walked to the bronze mirror. The man in the reflection looked to be in his early forties, with a sallow complexion and a few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. His lips were heavy, and his chin was covered in a circle of somewhat messy, coarse whiskers. The entire face was as plain as could be, even carrying a hint of submissiveness. Where was the shadow of the Peerless Prince of Zhan?
"Pfft—hahahaha!" Blue Five, who had been peeking from the doorway, finally couldn't hold back her laughter. She pointed at Xiao Zhan, tears nearly rolling down her face. "Captain, you're too cruel! That's not a groom; that's a middle-aged uncle from the countryside! Your Highness, if you went back to the Nine Stockades like this, I doubt anyone would claim you!"
Chu Yuning, standing to the side, was also dazed. He instinctively touched his own face—which, though weathered, was still handsome—and felt a secret relief: Fortunately, if I follow, Little Sister would probably turn me into that as well.
Xiao Zhan looked at his reflection, his cheek twitching. He had expected to become ordinary, but he hadn't expected to become so... "down-to-earth."
"Ning'er, this beard..." He touched the prickly whiskers, his tone helpless.
"It takes up less space this way," Crimson Nine replied calmly, patting his shoulder as she turned to tidy the desk. "We leave tomorrow. You will be Old Zhang, the accompanying groom. Talk less, do more. Understood?"
Xiao Zhan watched her decisive back. Though his appearance was a bit hard to swallow, at least... he could be by her side.
"Ying Ren, from this moment on, you are the master of this manor."
Xiao Zhan raised a hand, his fingertips tracing a mask that looked exactly like his original face. His voice held an unquestionable authority. "Do not show your face unless absolutely necessary. If messengers from the palace or local officials arrive, receive them behind a screen. Claim that the Prince's old illness has flared up and he is not receiving guests."
Ying Ren knelt on one knee, his face as stoic as a stone statue, yet showing a rare hint of tension. He took the mask, his voice deep. "This subordinate will not fail. But... what if someone tries to force their way into the Princess's quarters?"
"You needn't worry about that," Crimson Nine said, her head down as she organized her tactical bag. "The word is out that I've contracted a contagious plague and must recuperate in the back courtyard. Anyone who approaches is to be killed on sight. Meiniang and Xiao Xi will stay in the back; they know how to handle it."
"The plague?" Blue Five smirked. "That's savage! People in ancient times are terrified of mysterious diseases. Not even a fly will dare go near that courtyard."
Xiao Zhan, now "Old Zhang," still had eyes that remained sharp despite the sallow disguise. "Ying Ren, the reorganization plan for the Nine Stockades is in the hidden compartment. Just follow it step by step. Your mission is to make the world believe that the Prince and Princess of Zhan... are still safely residing in this manor."
"Understood." Ying Ren rose and fitted the mask over his face. In that instant, his aura, posture, and even the arrogance in his eyes became identical to Xiao Zhan's.
Crimson Nine watched the perfect double act and nodded, then turned to the deepening night outside.
"I wonder how Yellow Seven is doing in Southern Tang," she whispered, her voice carrying a rare trace of worry.
In their special ops squad, the three were teammates who entrusted their lives to one another, but privately, they were like sisters. Yellow Seven (Qi Xuan), the eldest, was steady and composed—the kind of person whose calm in the face of disaster provided a massive sense of security. Blue Five (司徒婧), the youngest, was an unpredictable genius from the military research institute whose mind was filled with "creative" ways to level half a city.
In the days when they lived on the edge of a blade, Yellow Seven had acted like an elder sister, taking care of them.
"She is too soft-hearted," Crimson Nine muttered, her brow furrowing. "If she were alone, no one in this world could hold her. But if there are others behind her, she will force herself into a corner just to protect them."
"That's why we have to hurry!" Blue Five shouldered her pack filled with strange weaponry. "If anyone dares to bully Yellow Seven, I'll set off fireworks on their head with my new 'Timed Babies'. Captain, shall we go?"
Xiao Zhan didn't know what a "Timed Baby" was, but he felt the bond between these women that transcended blood. He looked at Crimson Nine's cold yet worried face and made a silent vow: No matter where these three came from, he would protect them and never let them be homeless again.
"Let's go," the man disguised as Old Zhang said, his voice perfectly raspy. "The carriage is ready at the back gate. If we don't leave now, the sun will rise."