Bitter Fruit (Twenty-Eight)
It really left no trace to this extent? An extra one just appeared?
Though it was entirely within the realm of possibility he'd considered, seeing it happen so plainly before his eyes still left him marveling at the wonders of the world.
Xilaliya's doll was exactly the same. There wasn't the slightest difference.
It was clear now that Dorian's surprise just moments ago hadn't been about how the missing doll had ended up in his hands. It had been about when he'd made two of them, and how one had wound up in his hands.
Looking at it from that angle, could he collect a dozen of Head-Hanging Brother's Holy Artifacts by visiting a few more times?
This was arguably the most unbelievable possibility of all the outcomes.
It took only a little extrapolation to imagine all sorts of mind-boggling scenarios.
And yet it had really happened.
Things really did seem to be going badly.
Though he'd never been one to stick to convention and often pulled off some bizarre maneuvers, faced with this situation that invited all kinds of speculation, Fu Qian's first reaction was still extremely pessimistic.
Because, at its core, it represented the most terrifying possibility of all: he couldn't leave a trace on the natives in any way.
That included taking items with supernatural properties.
There was every reason to suspect that if he visited again, Xilaliya would still be a steadfast believer who refused to remove her mask, while Sala, the Bride of the Night, would still be lying quietly in her chaise longue, resting during her pregnancy.
To this place, he seemed to be a passerby in the most absolute sense.
It was as though the moment he crossed paths with them, he'd entered nothing more than an overlapping parallel timeline.