Flora Eina’s cooking tasted like small blessings on a quiet morning; whether salad or roasted greens, her seasoning rang a clear bell on the tongue.
“Little Tangxue, where are you planning to play this afternoon?” At lunch, Flora Eina smiled, sunlight pooling warm on her cheeks.
“Me? I’ll take this lunchbox to the Old Ancestor first… if she still lets me out, I want to wander the city.” The wish fluttered ahead of her like a kite.
“She’ll let you out,” Flora Eina chuckled, sleeve half-hiding her lips like a paper fan. “She’s classic—knife for a tongue, tofu for a heart.”
“Or maybe not a knife,” she went on, eyes crinkling like crescent moons. “When she speaks, she’s strangely cute—straight, so straight it’s adorable.”
“Really?” Doubt pricked like a nettle.
That old thing’s words were blunt rocks… not cute at all.
“After you meet more people, you’ll find her cute spots,” Flora Eina sighed, voice drifting like mist.
“Oh…” Tangxue nodded, half-understanding, the thought curling like steam.
After lunch, she followed the plan and delivered the food. Relief fell like rain—the old thing’s anger had cooled; no locking her up, no hanging her for a beating.
“Didn’t expect you to cook for me,” Hualuo Jingqing said, surprised, the rare smile opening like a window. “I thought you only went around breaking things.”
“I don’t go around breaking things.” Tangxue pouted, cheeks puffing like buns.
“Don’t you…?” Hualuo Jingqing’s temper rose like a kettle. “Forget the way you husky-wrecked my work in here. I’ve seen you bullying the guard sisters outside!”
She bristled, smoke practically coiling from her head. That little brat took advantage of their indulgence, pushed past her lines, even set out chairs and drinks and ordered the guards to rest!
Worse, those guards claimed they couldn’t disobey the Ancestor… and actually sat down to play with her.
Fury flashed, but she still couldn’t blame them; their long nights and cold dawns were carved in her heart like frost. Rest wasn’t a sin, if nothing happened.
But the brat trampling her intent felt raw—very not okay.
I want them to rest too! I already allow it. Why do they only remember the brat’s kindness? Am I just stern stone and rigid iron in their eyes?
And “Old Ancestor”—am I that old? It’s not like she didn’t see me growing up…
“I didn’t bully the guard sisters!” Tangxue’s eyes went bright and hard, like polished glass.
“Forcing duty-bound sisters to do what gnaws at them—that’s bullying,” Hualuo Jingqing said, brows drawing like bowstrings, gaze steady.
“But they were happy,” Tangxue shot back, joy like sunlight on water. “They smiled for real. How is that bullying?”
“It is,” Hualuo Jingqing replied, voice firm as a ruler. “If you trample someone’s will, happiness doesn’t absolve you.”
“…Oh.” The word fell, small as a pebble.
“…” Hualuo Jingqing felt her warnings drift past like wind through reeds.
So she taught the girl again, patience set like a stone lantern in dusk.
By afternoon, permission restored, Tangxue dashed out, laughter like bells. The varicolored city felt like a river of lights compared to a two-person room.
Hualuo Jingqing sat alone, a calm lake in a chair, watching a transparent screen ripple before her.
Worry pricked like a thorn, not for danger, but for a sudden flare—one burst, one big mess.
Yet days had flowed smooth; the little one stayed gentle as snow. Even elves who didn’t know her showed kindness beyond guessing, and the sight surprised Hualuo Jingqing like a bird at the window. She had thought the girl a loner star, dragging clouds.
This is good. At least I don’t have to fret over her future… She slapped her forehead, the sound crisp.
“Am I muddled? Why am I worrying about that brat’s future…”
Meanwhile, while Hualuo Jingqing’s gaze held Tangxue like a thread, two suspicious Beastkin glanced at each other and bowed their heads. They faded like shadows; no one saw where they went.
Inside a special pocket space, dozens of cloaked figures gathered, waiting as if under storm clouds.
Every figure bore the traits of the Beastkin, ears and fur like old marks.
Suddenly, the space brightened like dawn. This was a hidden cavern under the World Tree, secretly shaped into a taboo altar, unnoticed by the elves.
Dozens sat in rough chairs. When the newcomer arrived, they rose as one, a tide of bodies, and bowed.
“Priest.”
“Looks like everyone slipped in,” the half-beast priest chuckled, fingers loosening his collar like undoing a knot. “Smooth sailing.”
“Hualuo Jingqing, that old undying thing, is fixed on the little one. She has no time to watch us,” he said, a sneer thin as a blade.
“Soon, elves and Beastkin will sign their alliance. Then, by tradition, the Beastkin will hold a god-descending rite. But long ago, that rite broke. Now it’s all pageantry, lanterns with no flame.”
“They don’t remember the true descent,” the half-beast priest laughed coldly, the sound like iron scraping. “You think one demigod can save you?”
“When a true god descends, you’ll learn you’re nothing but dust.”
As the oldest of the Beastkin, he—Iloshi II—had seen a true god’s shadow. He had taken a fragment of the Authority of Omniscience, a shard of sight that pierced the world’s veil.
Trusting a primordial demigod who doesn’t know her own ceiling? Better to cut deeper—release the Evil God sealed in this world—and, before the world freezes solid, ride that storm to escape.
In the past, the ground beneath their land was an Abyss, a pit where wicked souls fell like rain. Hell, some called it, and there a terrifying Evil God was bound. He had once kept Hell’s gate, but malevolent wraiths stained him like ink; he lost right and wrong and smashed wherever he went—single-handed, he wrecked multiple planes without a flicker of remorse. The gods grew furious and sealed him in the Abyss.
The gods abandoned this plane because the Abyss sat here like a poisoned well. They feared the Evil God; he had tossed the Divine Realm like a storm upending a temple.
They abandoned us—so why should we wait for death the way they want? If it comes to it… we’ll break the net and drown the fish.
