A Planned Revenge

Fang Mo slowly opened his eyes and withdrew from his meditative state.

Yet at that very moment, Spirit Dong'er spoke in his mind:

"Tang Yuehua, mistress of Moon Pavilion; Blue Shadow Emperor A Yin, the hundred-thousand-year soul beast; and that woman, Liu Erlong.

Tang San, Tang Hao, Yu Xiaogang... just wait! I've found a way to take revenge!"

Early morning.

Fang Mo woke up half an hour earlier than usual.

The sky had not fully brightened yet, and the view outside the window was dark gray.

He took a slip of paper from beside his pillow and glanced at what was written on it.

The handwriting was childish, yet neat.

"Tonight at dusk, east corner of the rear garden, Under the Silver-Leaf Wutong."

Fang Mo folded the note again and began considering a question: how could he get it into Qian Renxue's hands?

Go directly to the Consecrated Hall to find her?

Absolutely not!

The current balance of power was extremely tense, so that option could be ruled out immediately.

Have a maid deliver it?

That was even less feasible.

The maids of the Pope Palace were Bibi Dong's eyes and ears. Anything sent to Qian Renxue would be inspected layer by layer.

Fang Mo sat by the bed and thought for a while, then the corners of his lips curled slightly.

The simplest method was often the most effective.

At the hour of the dragon.

Fang Mo headed to the study as usual.

As he passed through the side corridor, he went by the fork leading to the Consecrated Hall, where two guards stood watch expressionlessly.

Fang Mo did not linger, nor did he even spare them an extra glance. He continued along his usual route.

However, as he passed the fork, he stepped on a loose stone slab.

Clack.

The slab sprang up, then fell back into place.

The sound was not loud, but it rang clearly through the quiet corridor.

Both guards turned their eyes toward him.

Fang Mo seemed startled. He hunched his shoulders and lowered his head as he quickened his pace.

The guards paid him no attention.

A six-year-old child walking unsteadily and stepping on a loose stone slab was perfectly normal.

But Fang Mo had already achieved his goal.

The instant he stepped on the slab, something slipped from his lapel. It was not the note, but a silver hairpin.

He had found it in his room the previous night. The hairpin was exquisitely crafted, and one could tell at a glance that Bibi Dong had once used it.

During this time, Fang Mo had learned that Qian Renxue had a habit.

Every day at the hour of the dragon, she left the Consecrated Hall and followed this fork toward the rear garden of the Pope Palace for morning reading.

Although Qian Renxue lived in the Worship Hall, as Bibi Dong's daughter, she had permission to use the rear garden of the Pope Palace.

The two guards patrolled this route. Whenever Qian Renxue passed through, they would salute and make way.

If she saw that familiar hairpin...

Given how starved for affection she was now, she would definitely stop upon seeing such a familiar ornament on the ground.

A nine-year-old child who had been neglected by her mother for nine years, with an extremely sensitive heart.

When she discovered a hairpin resembling her mother's, with words engraved upon it directing her to a specific location.

Her first reaction would not be vigilance, but: Did Mother leave this for me?

When Fang Mo entered the study, Bibi Dong was already seated.

She wore a dark-purple casual robe, her hair loosely draped over her shoulders. Leaning against the back of her chair, she rested with her eyes closed.

She looked somewhat tired.

She probably had not slept well the night before.

Fang Mo stopped at the doorway and bowed properly. "Greetings, Teacher."

"Come in."

Fang Mo pulled over a chair and sat down.

Unlike usual, Bibi Dong did not take out a Parchment Scroll or manuscript. Instead, she quietly watched him, her gaze carrying a complicated scrutiny.

"Today's lesson is suspended."

Fang Mo was slightly taken aback.

"Teacher?"

Bibi Dong lightly tapped the tabletop twice with her fingers.

"You need time to digest what happened when you added your Soul Ring yesterday. Your body needs rest, and I need time to think as well."

Fang Mo waited quietly.

Bibi Dong looked at him, seemingly hesitating over whether she should continue.

In the end, she merely said flatly, "Go back. This afternoon, sit quietly in the Meditation Room, but do not circulate your Soul Power."

"Yes, Teacher."

Fang Mo rose and walked toward the door.

As he reached it, Bibi Dong suddenly spoke.

"Fang Mo."

"Your disciple is here."

"What happened yesterday... you did the right thing."

Fang Mo's steps paused.

"But next time, you are not allowed to hide it from me."

"This disciple understands."

Consecrated Hall.

Qian Renxue sat before her dressing table.

She wore a light-golden casual outfit, its collar embroidered with fine cloud patterns. It was fabric custom-made by the Worship Hall.

The young girl in the mirror had exquisite features, but faint shadows lay beneath her eyes.

Clearly, she had not slept well either.

"Miss, it is time for morning reading."

A maid beside her reminded her softly.

Qian Renxue nodded, slowly rose, and walked toward the door.

She had walked the path to the rear garden of the Pope Palace more times than she could count. She would not take a wrong turn even with her eyes closed.

The two guards saluted at the fork.

Qian Renxue nodded casually. Just as she was about to continue forward—

Her gaze fell upon the ground.

A familiar silver hairpin lay quietly beside the loose stone slab.

Qian Renxue stopped.

She bent down and picked up the hairpin.

Its silver shaft was exquisitely made, and the head was carved into a half-blooming lotus.

Qian Renxue's pupils suddenly constricted.

Because the hairpin in her hand looked almost exactly like her mother's.

Qian Renxue turned the hairpin over, and her eyes fell upon its back.

Her fingers stiffened.

Several words were engraved on the back of the pin.

At dusk, Under the Silver-Leaf Wutong.

Qian Renxue's breathing quickened for a moment. She swiftly raised her head and looked around.

There was no one else in the corridor.

Qian Renxue clenched the hairpin in her palm so tightly that it bent slightly.

"Under the Silver-Leaf Wutong..."

She repeated it softly.

Mother?

Qian Renxue's heartbeat suddenly accelerated.

Impossible.

Bibi Dong had never taken the initiative to seek her out, much less in such a cryptic manner.

But the style of that hairpin...

Did Mother have some unspeakable difficulty?

Qian Renxue bit her lower lip, tucked the hairpin into her sleeve, then hurried toward the garden.

At dusk.

The setting sun dyed the place in warm hues.

Qian Renxue still sat beneath the Silver-Leaf Wutong, her back against the trunk and a book spread across her knees, but her eyes had never once fallen upon its pages.

Today.

She had gone to find her grandfather, Qian Daoliu.

She told him that she wanted to sit alone for a while and did not want any other grandfathers following her.

And so, she had remained seated here the entire time.

Seeing that his granddaughter was merely sitting quietly there, Qian Daoliu withdrew the hidden protection around her.

Just then...

A voice came from behind her.

It was soft and gentle, carrying a warmth she had never heard before, yet one that warmed her heart.

"Xue'er."

Qian Renxue's body suddenly stiffened.

That voice...

She had imagined it countless times.

Because it was her mother's voice.