Chapter 48: Greetings

The footsteps didn’t continue.

Just before reaching the second floor of the abandoned building, they stopped without warning.

Yet Xia Yin held his combat stance.

Xueqiu noticed a pitch-black longsword in his hand, conjured like magic.

It was his usual “Mist Cutter.”

The next second, she felt off-balance.

Not from herself—the entire building was shaking.

Walls leaked wind, the concrete floor trembled.

Or perhaps the whole world was quaking.

“Move,” Xia Yin said, his voice cold and flat.

Move? To where? Xueqiu froze.

They were on the second floor, with only a leaky wall behind and the staircase ahead.

But those eerie footsteps came from the stairs.

She knew something was wrong there.

Luckily, she didn’t need to worry.

She didn’t even need to move.

Xia Yin scooped her up, hoisting her over his shoulder like a sack of corn.

He charged at the wall, as if it weren’t a barrier but the only exit besides the stairs.

Xueqiu heard the wall shatter, followed by a light landing.

When she came to, they were back on the ground.

Xia Yin had smashed through the wall, carrying her from the second floor…

She glanced at him, sword still in hand, no blood on him.

Only wind and sand speckled his black coat.

He’d said this wasn’t reality or Youdu, but that didn’t explain what just happened.

The only answer was his Contract, ‘Yinglong,’ working silently.

Like that day on the highway.

The two-story building began to collapse.

No clouds of dust rose—the wind swept them away instantly.

What Xia Yin guarded against emerged from the ruins, step by step.

The sound wasn’t footsteps but a long tail dragging on the ground.

In the wind and dust, Xueqiu saw it clearly.

At first glance, it was a black snake, three meters long.

But it had no scales.

It was dry, like a charred branch.

“Shadow Ghost…” Xueqiu murmured.

She knew little about Shadow Ghosts. The only one she’d seen before was the tentacle monster that attacked her.

Why would she dwell on those creatures?

Well, she did—they’d killed her only family.

She hated them.

If her eyes had heat, that “snake” would be dead.

She didn’t say it just for herself.

She hoped Xia Yin would nod or shake his head, confirming it was a Shadow Ghost.

He stared silently at the “snake” until it was less than five meters away, breaking his stillness.

He leapt two or three meters high—beyond human limits—but the strangeness didn’t end there.

The “snake” focused on Xia Yin, unaware its tail was splitting inch by inch, sliced by an invisible, razor-sharp blade.

In under a second, it was cut into dozens of pieces.

By the time Xia Yin landed, slashing its head, the “snake” was already dead.

So sudden.

To Xueqiu, it was like an unseen cleaver chopping a carrot, slicing the “snake” from tail to head.

“Tch, disgusting. Next time, send a prettier ghost. Doesn’t have to be a cute girl, but at least not this filth,” Xia Yin griped, to no one in particular.

He staggered toward Xueqiu, not looking at her.

Raising his sword, he hurled it like a spear.

The long, black blade shot past her, fast as an arrow, tearing through air and the ruins behind.

A grating tear, then the sound of the blade piercing flesh, came from behind Xueqiu.

She ducked behind Xia Yin, her only refuge now.

Vaguely, the scene cleared, as if wind and fog lifted, leaving purity.

Was something hiding behind her? She glanced warily at where the sword struck.

The blade twitched, pushed out from the wall, falling lightly to the ground.

Footsteps resumed. Five seconds later, Xueqiu saw their source.

Not a Shadow Ghost or a disguised assassin—just a boy in a black suit.

A child?

“Well, well, you’re not as weak as he said,” the boy chuckled, sounding far from childlike.

Xueqiu wanted to say she was the weak one—Xia Yin was S-rank.

But her focus stayed on the boy.

His arm was covered, eyes faintly red.

She recalled Ou Ziyun’s eyes having a similar red.

Like bloodshot eyes, unsettling.

“Sorry, who’s ‘he’? Some big bad boss? If so, take me to him—I’m warmed up,” Xia Yin said, his dead-fish eyes locked on the boy.

“He’s not a boss. He works for ‘King,’ like me. Asked me to say hi,” the boy replied.

“So, you’re with Antidote? ‘Chariot,’ ‘Knight,’ ‘Bishop’? Surely not ‘Queen.’ Is your ‘King’ some priest?” Xia Yin pressed.

The boy seemed choked by his words, silent for a few seconds.

“I’m just passing on big brother’s greetings. You won—for now,” he said.

With that, he turned into the ruins.

Xia Yin chased without hesitation, but he, Xueqiu, the wind, dust, and ruins vanished into white.

Xueqiu woke.

Or rather, she woke on the wet bathroom floor.

Something warm pressed against her.

The sensation spread from her chest downward.

Shifting, she saw what—or who—it was.

Xia Yin.

No wonder he’d dodged explaining earlier—he’d collapsed here too.

She was awake now. Would he wake too?

“Hiss…”

The boy slowly opened his dead-fish eyes.

He seemed disoriented, adjusting to returning from that strange place.

“Damn, I’m alive? Good. You, Snowball? Alive? Squeak if you are—don’t tell me you died in a dream.”

Xia Yin rubbed his eyes, noticing he was kneeling beside her.

Xueqiu tried to help him up, but her legs were too weak to stand.

A third person pulled Xia Yin up.

He started to thank them cheekily but met Ou Ziyun’s dark, unamused expression.

On the other side, Su Xi helped Xueqiu to the bed.

Su Xi stepped back, covering her mouth, stifling giggles.