“Sis Xiaotao, don’t fret. She shouldn’t leave the academy. Can you sense her position with your Command Seals?”

Bei Bei quickly tried to comfort her.

That Servant was truly a headache. Not only Ma Xiaotao—many had suffered at her hands.

Last time, Elder Xuan’s treasured liquor was swapped with some animal’s urine—he picked it up to drink, and exploded on the spot.

Afterwards, Elder Xuan insisted he’d smelled something off and hadn’t drunk it, but his near-insane outburst then made that hard to believe.

Still, to preserve his dignity, everyone tacitly chose to believe he hadn’t drunk it.

Another victim was Zhou Yi, an outer court teacher.

Disguised as a young, beautiful Zhou Yi, that mischievous Servant kissed a male outer court student on the street. The story exploded across Shrek’s rumor mill.

Fan Yu had to step in—thinking he’d been cuckolded, he nearly pulled out an eighth-grade fixed soul tool shell to obliterate the pair.

In the end, with Han Ruoruo and her Servant’s help—and Ma Xiaotao’s explanation—the truth was cleared.

The culprit had a cloning ability. Both the real Zhou Yi and the male student were her—one-man show from start to finish.

The farce nearly ruined Zhou Yi and Fan Yu’s relationship and almost got Shrek bombed by an eighth-grade shell.

Her behavior was atrocious; she treated most of Shrek as playthings.

Unfortunately, though many suffered, no one could retaliate—she was too powerful.

What’s more, despite the chaos, the damage was temporary—bear it and it passed.

And she never targeted the same person twice—always seeking new victims, impossible to guard against.

“There’s nothing I can do—her ability’s too bizarre. I can’t find a trace!”

Ma Xiaotao grimaced, glancing at her Command Seals with disdain—useless.

Normally, the Master-Servant bond would let her lock onto her Servant via the Seals.

But somehow the other side had completely blocked the sense, as if vanishing.

“Don’t panic. This isn’t the first time. Once she’s had her fun, she’ll show herself.”

Yan Shaozhe’s headache worsened.

As the one managing Servant affairs, he’d cleaned up after this troublemaker countless times.

It couldn’t be helped—he was responsible, and she was Ma Xiaotao’s Servant, which made it closer to home.

“Has anyone seen my Servant? She ambushed me—the little brat! I won’t forgive her!”

A familiar voice sounded from outside.

Another Ma Xiaotao in red strode in, also holding her forehead, equally vexed and angry.

Behind this Ma Xiaotao were Han Ruoruo and a figure exuding nobility, grace, and divinity.

A woman with golden hair like strands of sunlight.

She wore white-and-gold finery whose fabric seemed to glow softly; every cut and ornament radiated luxury.

Her skin was like flawless marble, delicate and warm.

Her cyan pupils had no highlights, as if blind, yet they carried a mysterious aura.

On her head was a circlet woven from olive leaves and blossoms—an emblem of an ancient goddess.

A metallic necklace at her throat combined geometric patterns and nature’s motifs.

Fine patterned bracelets adorned her wrists; gold threads and petals wound her arms—elegant and splendid.

A loose draping gown, cinched with a metal belt and white sash, flattered her waistline.

Black leather and laurel leaves formed her leg rings.

She wore heeled sandals; straps on either side wound with shells and olive leaves up ankle and calf—melding sea and forest.

Rings adorned her fingers; even her toenails gleamed gold—she was the very image of a sacred, luxurious goddess.

Aglaea, the Weaver of Gold—Han Ruoruo’s summoned Servant.

Aglaea also had outstanding leadership, but Jing Yuan shone too brightly, and she herself had no desire to vie for control, so the mantle of leadership at Shrek fell to Jing Yuan.

The newly arrived Ma Xiaotao angrily complained, then noticed everyone staring oddly.

Following their gaze, she saw the other Ma Xiaotao staring back in shock.

Han Ruoruo twitched at the sight of two identical Ma Xiaotaos and looked helplessly at Aglaea. “Aglaea, can you tell which is real?”

“No. Her ability is quite similar to a friend of mine’s—bizarre and mercurial—very hard to judge truth from falsehood.”

Aglaea gently shook her head, serene as ever—untouched by worldly clamor.

“Sorry, Xiaotao—I can’t help,” Han Ruoruo said, stepping back from both Ma Xiaotaos.

She knew Ma Xiaotao too well—this wouldn’t end with words. Best to keep distance.

“You little brat, I’ve put up with you long enough. Today I’ll burn your feathers!”

“You little brat, I’ve put up with you long enough. Today I’ll burn your feathers!”

Both Ma Xiaotaos barked in unison, phoenix fire erupting around them.

The extreme heat twisted the air; even space seemed to groan.

The two Ma Xiaotaos not only had the same Phoenix martial soul, the same ultimate fire; their Stigmatas and soul rings were identical.

From personality to appearance to abilities—they were cast from the same mold.

Seeing the identical pair, Yan Shaozhe was dumbfounded.

He’d watched Ma Xiaotao grow up—knew her best—yet even he couldn’t tell.

Xuan Zi was so shocked he spat out his wine.

He knew the mischievous Servant could change appearances, but never imagined she could mimic abilities so perfectly—practically broken.

If she could mimic martial souls and soul rings—and with masterful acting—she could become anyone at will.

Like now, her Ma Xiaotao was flawless—the hot temper, the reactions—copy-paste, without a flaw.

“Xiaotao, calm down. Don’t fight!” Cai Meier urged anxiously.

This was the Sea God Pavilion—if they fought, the Golden Tree could be affected; consequences unthinkable.

Cai Meier had raised Ma Xiaotao like her own; she mattered like a daughter.

So even furious, Ma Xiaotao forced herself to hold back at Cai Meier’s plea.

She also knew she wasn’t a match for that hateful Servant.

“Miss Jeanne!”

Cai Meier looked to Jeanne, full of hope—hoping her Revelation could distinguish the real Ma Xiaotao and end the farce.

“Sorry.” After struggling, Jeanne helplessly shook her head.

Revelation did not answer at will; at least now, it gave no response.

It might also be that the opponent’s bizarre transformation was too powerful—even Jeanne’s Revelation was deceived.

Not only that—her True Name appraisal failed as well—clearly the other side had prepared.

Seeing even Jeanne stymied, Yan Shaozhe and the others grew more distressed.

Finally, Yan Shaozhe could only plead, “Miss Sparkle, please stop. We’re begging you.”

“Beg her? I’ll fight her!”

“Beg her? I’ll fight her!”

Both Ma Xiaotaos roared again in unison, eyes blazing, glaring murderously—about to pounce.

“Pfft.” Qingque almost laughed aloud at the theatrical scene.

She then stole a glance at the first Ma Xiaotao who had entered.

“Yo, little Qingque—did you figure something out?” Sunglasses-toting Songque sidled up to her.

Perhaps because their names were similar, they got along well.

One was a swindler who loved fortune-telling; the other a genuine diviner—pairing them wasn’t odd.

“I didn’t—I haven’t—don’t talk nonsense!” Qingque was startled into a triple denial.

Joking aside—whether she had figured it out or not—she would never say it.

With the Masked Fool’s personality, if she took notice of you, your leisurely days were over.

Qingque kept her distance from such trouble.

Even if she’d spotted some clue, she wouldn’t admit it—no need to invite the Fool’s attention and become a plaything.

“What a grand farce.”

Cu Chulainn scratched his head, helpless. He couldn’t understand those who lived for mischief; their minds ran on a different track.

“Miss Sparkle, please, enough. We’re all comrades; this is rude.”

Jeanne couldn’t bear it anymore and stepped in to advise.

Clearly, Sparkle had no intention of listening—still immersed in her performance, having a blast.

She was savoring the farce; Ma Xiaotao’s every reaction lay in her palm—tremendously fun.

“Jing Yuan!”

Bei Bei looked to Jing Yuan.

In his heart, if anyone could pierce Sparkle’s disguise, it was Jing Yuan.

Jing Yuan still sat with eyes closed, as if the outside world didn’t exist.

In truth, he could see through it—but he knew the Masked Fool was trouble.

He didn’t want to interrupt her fun—too much hassle.

He’d rather wait until she’d had enough; then it would end naturally.

In his view, these were harmless pranks—within his tolerance.

“Karna!”

Seeing Jing Yuan unresponsive, He Caitou couldn’t hold back.

Though he feared being pranked by Sparkle, thinking of how she’d toyed with his teacher Fan Yu and Zhou Yi made him want to vent their grievance.

“Fool, your mischief should end here.”

At his Master’s request, Karna raised his golden spear, its tip pointing at the first Ma Xiaotao who had come in.

“Discernment of the Poor”—one of Karna’s abilities—let him pierce appearances, seeing one’s essence and the lies behind words.

Sparkle’s disguise was superb—seamless, indistinguishable from the real Ma Xiaotao—but before Karna’s essence-sight, it was nowhere to hide.

Karna had already seen the dangerous traces in Sparkle’s nature—but also that she wasn’t truly evil.

So though he’d seen through her earlier, he’d kept silent.

But now that his Master asked, he wouldn’t refuse.

As his spear indicated, all eyes turned to the first Ma Xiaotao.

Previously, most had assumed the second was fake—no one expected the first.

“Oh my, you saw through it. Little Sun, your ability is really annoying!”

With a dreamy shimmer, the first Ma Xiaotao’s figure dissolved, revealing a petite, cute girl.

She wore lively black twin-tails and a bright red kimono whose fine patterns swayed with her movements.

Her light pink eyes were like spring cherry blossoms; the fox-shaped mask on her forehead lent mystery—the emblem of her identity: the Masked Fool, Sparkle.

“Little Hot-Chicken, don’t be so mad—I was just teasing!”

Sparkle tilted her head playfully, nimbly dodging a meteor-like fireball, then smiled at Ma Xiaotao, who was wreathed in flames—mischief in her grin.

“Damn it! How many times have I said it—I’m a Phoenix, not a chicken!”

Ma Xiaotao gritted her teeth. Other Masters and Servants got along well; she and her Servant were at daggers drawn—short of mutual destruction.

“It’s all the same. Don’t be so hung up.”

Sparkle waved it off, as if Phoenix and chicken were no different.

She then turned to Karna and He Caitou, smiling with a tinge of malice. “Little Sun, and you, Charcoal-Head—remember this: Lady Sparkle holds grudges.”

“Oh, and Little Saint!”

With that, Sparkle skipped over to Jeanne like a happy bunny, the bells on her chiming a bright, pleasant tune—as if playing her own melody.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep