Chapter 21: Tonight, Full Moon, Carrot Feast
Ling Qingli froze, her double pupils, dimmed by despair, suddenly bursting with purple light.
Right! She had double pupils!
With such a powerful divine artifact, wouldn’t it be a waste not to use it?
“I get it!”
She nodded firmly, turning to charge toward the city lord’s mansion.
Two steps in, the exhaustion from overusing her double pupils and fleeing hit her like a wave. Her vision blackened, and she stumbled, nearly falling.
At that moment, a gentle breeze arose, wrapping around her softly, like an invisible hand steadying her. A cool energy seeped into her limbs, greatly easing her fatigue.
It was her wind!
Ling Qingli’s heart warmed. She remembered everything now!
The wind that saved her when she leaped to dodge Liu Rong’s guard, the breeze that repelled Liu Rong—it was this!
“Has she been watching me from the shadows all along?”
Murmuring to herself, the feeling of being protected curved her lips into a smile.
Wasting no more time, she harnessed the wind’s power, her small frame bursting with astonishing speed toward the city lord’s mansion.
Bai Zhou stood still, watching the figure vanish among the ruins, a faint glimmer flashing in her molten gold eyes. In a blink, she disappeared.
Inside the city lord’s mansion, the stench of blood permeated every corner.
The massive refining array still glowed dark red, but without Kang Bo’s control, its light flickered unstably.
At the array’s heart, the city lord Hou Boxuan’s daughter, Hou Congmeng, lay with eyes closed, her face pale as glass, wisps of blood-red energy coiling around her, eroding her consciousness.
Beside her, Hou Boxuan, bound by restraints, was wild with desperation, his throat rasping, unable to even end his life, forced to watch his daughter’s breath grow fainter.
Elsewhere in the mansion, children’s corpses lay scattered, throats neatly slit.
Ling Qingli burst into the hall, greeted by this hellish scene.
The number of children’s bodies was sparse—two-thirds fewer than when she’d escaped. Those missing couldn’t have fled the Blood Soul Sect’s grasp. Dead without a trace meant only one thing: their bodies were gone.
She recognized some faces—beggar kids who’d once ganged up on her, now cold corpses.
Even if they’d clashed, they were peers in a way. Seeing their fate, a pang of sorrow hit her.
Her gaze soon locked onto Hou Congmeng at the array’s center.
“Miss Hou!”
Without hesitation, her purple double pupils flared, the array’s patterns becoming clear, its weak points laid bare.
“I can see it. I can see it.”
Suppressing her nerves, Ling Qingli focused entirely.
She tried to dismantle the array’s core, as she had the blood claw and fire wall.
Buzz—
Her double pupils blazed purple, the array groaning under strain, its color fading rapidly.
“Break, break for me!”
Crack… crack…*
Faint shattering sounds echoed in the silent hall.
“Pfft!”
Hou Congmeng spat a mouthful of dark blood, coughing violently. Though still weak, a trace of clarity returned to her eyes, no longer hollow with death.
“Congmeng!”
Hou Boxuan’s restraints vanished. He stumbled, then threw himself at his daughter’s side, tears streaming, his trembling hands afraid to touch her.
Ling Qingli collapsed, panting, her eyes stinging.
Seeing Hou Congmeng safe, a relieved smile spread across her grimy face.
“I did it… I succeeded…”
Hou Congmeng weakly lifted her eyes, her blurry vision struggling to focus, finally settling on the small figure slumped nearby.
A vague memory stirred, but those eyes…
“You are…?”
Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw. Hou Congmeng strained to identify the girl.
Facing her former benefactor, Ling Qingli felt shy:
“That winter, you helped a group of beggar kids. I was one of them.”
…Beggar?
Her words jogged Hou Congmeng’s memory, though she’d helped too many beggars to recall clearly.
But was she really a beggar?
Those extraordinary eyes—if Hou Congmeng had seen them, she’d never forget.
Hou Boxuan snapped back, turning to Ling Qingli, about to kneel in gratitude:
“Thank you for saving us! The Hou family will never forget this!”
Ling Qingli yelped, scrambling to dodge:
“No, no, no! Miss Hou saved me once that winter. Now I’ve repaid her. If you want to thank someone, thank the woman named ‘Bai Zhou.’ She scared off that old man. Without her, I couldn’t have saved you.”
“Bai Zhou?”
Hou Congmeng murmured the name, her muddled mind unable to process it, relying on instinct for shallow recognition.
Was it a name tied to the sun of daylight? Could someone’s fate bear such a name?
She didn’t know, but Hou Boxuan froze, his body trembling. He ventured cautiously:
“May I ask what this lady is to you?”
Ling Qingli fell silent, her gaze complicated. She wanted to speak but was too embarrassed, finally muttering:
“Master.”
Hou Boxuan’s pupils shrank, his look at Ling Qingli turning incredulous.
He opened his mouth, about to say something, when Ling Qingli’s unconcealed double pupils narrowed, locking onto a spot between him and Hou Congmeng.
A transparent scarlet thread linked their hearts, pulsing with a sinister aura, draining Hou Boxuan’s scant vitality to feed Hou Congmeng, whose face remained grim. Unaware, Hou Boxuan’s cheeks flushed unnaturally.
“Another loose end?”
As Ling Qingli puzzled, her double pupils instinctively moved to dismantle the eerie thread.
“Not a wise move right now.”
A cool voice came from behind. Bai Zhou appeared silently at her side, a hand gently pressing her shoulder, a mild yet irresistible force halting her pupils’ analysis.
“Ugh…”
Ling Qingli grunted, the purple glow in her eyes fading. She looked up, confused:
“Why? I’m sure I can do it.”
Bai Zhou met her stubborn double pupils, shaking her head:
“I believe you, but the timing’s wrong. Forcing it now will only kill them both.”
“What?”
Ling Qingli’s eyes widened in fear. She shut them instinctively, then realized her pupils’ analysis had stopped, cautiously opening them again.
Hou Boxuan stared at the sudden girl. Even veiled, there was something unmistakable…
Sometimes, recognizing someone didn’t require seeing their face.
He nearly blurted out:
“Imperial…”