Ye Lingling stood by the reef with a cup of coffee, watching the scattered traces of blood still drifting across the sea. Her tone was even, with a hint of playfulness.
Qing Linyun didn't turn around. He grunted in acknowledgment.
"Then why are you still standing here?" Ye Lingling looked him up and down. Her gaze fell on the blackened, blood-red fabric covering half of him, and her brows knitted. "That blood isn't yours, is it?"
"No."
"Then what happened to your shoulder?"
Qing Linyun looked down. The fabric over his shoulder blade had long since been torn to shreds, and blood had stained his clothes dark red. Green light flickered and crawled beneath the cloth.
"We'll talk when we get back."
"All right." Ye Lingling pressed the coffee into his hand, then turned and pushed open the dark purple door. Light spilled through the gap, bright enough to sting the eyes.
"After you, boss."
Ye Lingling winked playfully at Qinglin.
Qing Linyun glanced helplessly at Ye Lingling but said nothing.
Qing Linyun paused before stepping through the door and glanced back at the sea.
That stretch of water had fallen quiet, the wind and waves calm.
"Let's go."
The portal closed, leaving only the sea breeze on the reef.
By the time Wu Changkong reached the East Sea, its surface had grown completely calm.
He had flown all the way there, frantically overtaxing his Soul Power as terrifying ice-type Soul Power crashed down on the sea again and again.
The seabirds along his path had been too chilled to land on the water.
But when he hovered above the East Sea, all he saw was a spotless expanse of water.
It was almost absurdly clean, as if something had washed the whole area down.
He frowned and descended.
Several fresh cracks marked the reef. A piece of dark green cloth floated on the sea, bobbing up and down with the waves.
He reached out and fished it up, holding it in his hand and studying it for a long time.
It was fabric from a gray-green windbreaker, charred black at the edges and stained with blood.
He rubbed the piece of cloth between his fingers.
It seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember where he had seen it.
Wu Changkong squatted on the reef, lost in thought.
A patch of white foam suddenly rose on the distant sea as more than a dozen dorsal fins cut through the surface. The Demon Soul Great White Sharks had round, bulging bellies and swam lazily along.
He sprang to his feet as if something had struck him.
Ice-type Soul Power spread across the sea, freezing the water for hundreds of meters around into a thin sheet in the blink of an eye. Startled, the sharks flicked their tails and dove into the depths.
Beneath the thin ice, something was caught in a crevice between the corals.
Half an arm.
From the elbow down, its fingers were curled, still holding the grasping pose they had taken before death.
Wu Changkong stared at the severed arm, his pupils contracting.
He recognized it. More precisely, he recognized the lingering presence on that hand.
That sinister darkness with its bloody stench was something he would never mistake in his life.
Dark Hummingbird.
Dead.
Run through, thrown into the sea, and fed to the sharks.
Wu Changkong stood on the ice, suddenly unsure what he should do.
He had waited a long time for this day.
After Long Bing died, he had spent years sunk in despair, drifting through each day in a daze, not even wanting to be a Soul Master anymore.
Eventually he had pulled through, because the breath in his chest had never left him.
Revenge.
To live, grow stronger, and then nail that murderer to a wall with his own hands, just as that person had done to Long Bing all those years ago.
But now that person was dead.
And he wasn't the one who had killed him.
Wu Changkong opened his mouth and found he couldn't make a sound.
His chest felt painfully clogged, as if something were lodged there, unable to go up or down.
He should have been happy. His enemy was dead; he should have laughed long and hard.
He should have gone to Long Bing's grave and told her, "Did you see? That beast didn't even leave an intact corpse."
But somehow he couldn't bring himself to laugh.
He even felt as though a huge piece of his heart had been hollowed out, with wind whistling through it, cold and biting.
I haven't made my move yet. He stared at the arm, that single thought running through his head over and over. I haven't made my move yet. How could you die already?
The sea breeze poured down his collar, and he shivered. He had long since withdrawn his Soul Power. He stood on a lonely floe like a man who had lost his way.
At last, he returned to Eastsea Academy with a blank face.
He pushed open the office door. His lesson plans were still frozen to the desk, the ice yet to melt.
He didn't tidy up or turn on the light. He simply sat down in his chair and stared straight out the window.
The sky gradually darkened.
On the windowsill, the pothos frozen into an ice sculpture glimmered faintly blue in the night.
He sat there for a long time, then suddenly remembered something from many years ago.
Long Bing had still been alive then. After practicing swordsmanship in the evenings, she liked to lean on the windowsill and tell him, "Changkong, once I've gained a few more levels, I'll travel the continent with you."
Her eyes had shone when she spoke, as though they held stars. Back then, he could never have imagined that the person leaning on the windowsill would one day have her heart pierced from behind and die just before he arrived.
Nor could he have imagined that he would live in a daze for so many years because of that promise she had never had the chance to fulfill.
Now his enemy was dead, dying even more miserably than he had imagined, fed to the fish.
Yet that breath in his chest still hadn't left him.
"Long Bing, perhaps I should follow you in death."
Shrek City, top floor of the Heaven-Supporting Pillar headquarters.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the lights of most of Shrek City spread out in a vast expanse. As soon as Qing Linyun entered, he took off his coat and tossed it onto the sofa, revealing a shoulder smeared with blood.
Ye Lingling followed him in, pulled the door shut, and locked it behind her.
"Boss, sit." She pointed at the sofa. "Let me look at your injury first."
"No need. It won't kill me." Despite his words, Qing Linyun had already sat down.
"You say that every time." Ye Lingling pulled a white jade box from her Storage Soul Tool and crouched in front of him, her pretty, oversized Casilan eyes blinking constantly.
"You're just being stubborn. You said the same thing last time."
"Wasn't I fine then?"
"That was because you were lucky."
Ye Lingling opened the box, and a cool, refreshing medicinal fragrance wafted out.
She scooped up a dollop of ointment and spread it over his shoulder blade. The fabric around the wound had long since stuck to his flesh, so she used a small pair of scissors to snip it away bit by bit, her movements impossibly gentle.
Qing Linyun hissed.
"Does it hurt?"
"No."
Qing Linyun really wasn't in pain. It was simply that, from his angle, the sight of Ye Lingling's bottomless cleavage had made him hiss despite himself.
"Boss, you're lying." Ye Lingling looked up at him, the corners of her eyes slightly red.
"This hole is nearly half the size of my fist."
"My Soul Power recovers quickly."
"That green light of yours really is growing, but it still needs time."
She carefully spread the ointment, circling the edge of the wound with the pad of her finger. "You rest tonight, boss. I'll keep an eye on the company."
Qing Linyun said nothing.
He stared at Ye Lingling's busy figure, his gaze pausing for a moment. Her looks hardly needed mentioning; she had always been a beauty among beauties, or Qing Linyun could never have picked her.
After she acquired the Light Goddess Butterfly, her beauty had become even more breathtaking.
Ye Lingling's age was at just the right point: she had both the vitality and extraordinary beauty of a young woman and the grace and charm of a mature one. She was exactly the sort Qing Linyun currently preferred.
Ye Lingling half-crouched, her body trembling slightly, her curves moving with it and showing off her enchanting figure. Qing Linyun couldn't help glancing over.
Once Ye Lingling had finished applying the medicine, she took a clean bandage and wound it around him, layer by layer.
She half-knelt on the floor with her head lowered, black hair hanging down to cover half her face. Her movements were gentle, as though she feared hurting him.
As she reached the final layer, she suddenly leaned in and lightly bit the uninjured skin beside his shoulder blade.
Qing Linyun's whole body went still for a moment.
Ye Lingling had already pulled back. Kneeling there, her ears bright red, she spoke as though nothing had happened. "Done."
"What are you doing?"