Chapter 18: Master (Part 10)

Spinning apricot blossoms fell, landing on the lake water before slowly floating up—filling the lake with pink and white.

On every doorway in the streets and alleys, bright red “Double Happiness” characters were pasted. The red paper, soaked by rain, changed from bright red to a dark, crimson hue. Firecracker debris scattered on the ground had been swept into the crevices of wall corners by brooms. Soaked in water, the red dye faded, making the blue stone slabs look as if threads of blood were flowing over them.

Yesterday, there had been a great joyous occasion.

The noble daughter of the Yue family had found a good husband, recruiting a man to marry into her household. They set up a flowing banquet for three days and three nights, insisting on inviting all the townspeople to drink.

A handsome man and a beautiful woman, a perfectly matched couple standing there, looking just like a match made in heaven.

“You youngsters came late. Come one day earlier and you could’ve caught a wedding feast.” An old man at the street corner leaned on his cane, smiling at the three before him. “Our Yimeng Marsh’s spirit fish is one of the world’s three delicacies. Yesterday, the main family was happy and served a pot to every table!”

“Then we truly lack that fortune.” He Tingtong held an umbrella, the corner of his clothes splashed with rainwater and dripping wetly. He smiled at the old man. “Old sir, we are cultivators from the Central Province. Passing through this time, we saw demonic energy soaring here. Do you know if you’ve seen any strange phenomena recently?”

“Go, go, go! Yimeng Marsh only has spiritual creatures, not demonic creatures.” The old man waved his cane, poking He Tingtong out from under the eaves. “We have the Dragon Maiden’s protection here—good weather, favorable rain. Even during the flood season, boats pass safely through the great marsh. Let alone demons—even if there were any, they’d be scared away.”

“Still talking about demonic energy? I think you three are the unlucky ones!”

The door clanged shut before He Tingtong, nearly hitting his nose.

He Tingtong turned to look at Su Tan. “Asked ten families—they all say the same thing. Looks like the marriage in town yesterday refers to the Dragon Maiden and the Demon Lord. We arrived fifteen years in the past.”

Unlike the hell-like scene outside the Dragon’s Eye, inside the eye, they had entered a prosperous small town—black tiles, white walls, everything complete. The common people lived and worked in peace. It looked no different from countless small towns in the human world. Even the phantoms of the common people inside were vivid and quite temperamental.

This was the Dragon Maiden’s wandering spirit realm—only the remaining peaceful parts weren’t much anymore.

He Tingtong looked toward the sky. Rolling thunder came from afar. Black clouds at the horizon drew closer, looking as if they were pressing down on people’s heads.

Rain beat on the umbrella surface, pattering loudly. Fu Fengyan looked up at a string of grapes painted on the umbrella surface, his eyes fixed on them.

He Tingtong reminded him: “Walking with your head up, be careful not to fall.”

“What is this?” Fu Fengyan reached out to touch the painting on the umbrella surface.

“Grapes. They aren’t in season yet. They ripen in June or July.” He Tingtong extended his hand to pull the person along, catching up to Su Tan’s steps ahead. “When June comes, I’ll buy them for you to eat.”

So Fu Fengyan stopped looking at the umbrella.

“When I fainted, my brain suddenly sparked, and I remembered the book’s contents especially clearly. I recalled there was a section in the original novel about the protagonist’s childhood flashback.”

Su Tan closed his umbrella, leading He Tingtong and Fu Fengyan to find shelter under the eaves. He wrung water from his clothes, beginning to seriously recall the plot. “Three days after the protagonist’s mother married, during Yimeng Marsh’s flood season, a boat disappeared in the great marsh. The Dragon Maiden drove clouds and rain, rescuing that boat of people. However, she consumed too much power, and having just shown signs of pregnancy, her spiritual veins were unstable, and she fell into a coma.”

“Right during the honeymoon period, when love should be as sweet as honey mixed with oil—the husband who should have cared for her wholeheartedly instead took advantage of her weakness. He used a soul-piercing nail, driving it beneath the Dragon Maiden’s inverse scale. After she showed her original form in pain, he severed her horns and dug out her pill, abandoning her without care.”

“Under severe injury and near death, the Dragon Maiden should have chosen to refine the child in her womb to supplement her spiritual power. But she couldn’t bear to do it, keeping the child.”

“However, the protagonist was a hybrid of dragon and demon. From childhood, his spiritual energy was mixed and impure. Two forces clashed inside him. He was weak like a kitten. Later, every time he grew a bit, the demonic nature inside grew more ferocious. To suppress the protagonist’s demonic nature, she could only inject her remaining origin essence bit by bit into the protagonist, causing her own spiritual veins and life force to completely shatter.”

“The child grew day by day, and she declined day by day. She was no longer able to move clouds and spread rain, nor could she protect Yimeng Marsh. Later, during Yimeng Marsh’s flood season, many died. Her temple was toppled, her name forgotten.”

“But the son’s growing face gradually resembled her enemy, bearing an eighty percent likeness. Every time she looked at that face, her heart was cut like knives, feeling as if the Demon Lord was killing her all over again.”

“She regretted it.”

“So the Dragon Maiden suppressed it for over ten years—all the resentment, despair, pain, and anger completely backlashed, and was finally imposed on the protagonist.”

…

It rained again.

The rain here seemed never to stop.

The skinny youth lay on the ground, a puddle floating with several apricot petals before his eyes. Blood carried by threads of rain slowly seeped into the brick crevices, so the apricot blossoms floated on blood.

His internal organs were broken, and his leg was broken too—he was unable to move for the moment. The white silk on his neck strangled very tight, his throat bones collapsing with ka-ka-ka sounds. He couldn’t struggle, and didn’t want to struggle either. His hands softened like dough, his vision going black, and many strange images appeared—sometimes a woman’s pale profile, milk-white fish soup placed before him emanating an abnormal fishy smell; sometimes midnight’s ghostly figure carrying a lamp, that huge eye beneath the veiled hat flowing lines of bloody tears.

His neck was really about to break.

Just as he was about to die, the silk loosened in the next second. Air poured back into his mouth and nose. But he couldn’t breathe much—his lungs hurt like they were being slowly sliced. One cough brought up nothing but blood foam, slowly flowing from his reddened, purpled mouth and nose.

“Moon curved, eyes bright, Xun my good child, quickly grow up, quickly grow up…”

Someone held his back. A woman’s gentle, affectionate humming sounded by his ear. The youth’s pitch-black eyeballs stared, deathly stillness inside them. He still didn’t move, looking at the puddle before him.

A peerless beauty held him smiling, held him crying. After crying awhile, she threw him away like garbage, turning her body. “Husband, you’re back?”

Reflected in the water surface was a departing plain-colored figure—the skirt hem was extremely long, like a swimming dragon’s tail, rushing toward that blurry, tall black figure in the long corridor.

The youth closed his eyes, clenching the forearm-long nail in his palm.

Those people over there walked away together. He shakily crawled up from the ground, dragging the three-foot white silk at his neck, staggering, almost half-crawling to a corner, reaching the low wall, and flipping over.

The rain had fallen too long—moss grew at the wall corner, wet and slippery. The youth fell down, his arm scraping and bleeding. He struggled to crawl up, squatting in the corner to lick it, sucking that bit of bright red clean.

Amid the patter of falling rain, he was soaking wet all over, curled in a corner like a stray dog with nowhere to hide, drenched by wind and rain.

At the dark alley’s end, three heads carefully poked out, stacked up and down, sneakily watching.

“This is the blackened, protagonist-abusing male lead we’re looking for—Yue Qianxun.” Su Tan transmitted his voice. “As a child abused by mom, as a youth abused by Qin Tan, grown up abused by good buddies. Abused and abused until thoroughly blackened, falling into the Demon Realm, becoming the Demon Lord, destroying heaven and earth, killing in all directions.”

He Tingtong’s face was expressionless: “Saw that.” Indeed, generation after generation of Demon Lords.

So Su Tan rolled up his sleeves. “Now we catch him, interrogate him, and use him as a hostage! Hold the protagonist to command his mom!”

“Of course, he’s very fierce—careful protection.”

“Let’s go!”

He Tingtong dug in his chest, pulling out a sack. With Fu Fengyan, one on each side, they held the opening wide.

Su Tan covered his face, holding his sword, looking at the black hole of a bag behind him, awkwardly saying: “Why do I feel like we’re the dog-catching squad?”

“Quiet, careful he runs.” He Tingtong pointed at the other end, making a beheading gesture. “Surround him!”

Yue Qianxun was setting his own bones. His physique was special—no matter how severe the injury, he could quickly self-heal.

A pebble kicked from afar, rolling to his feet.

Yue Qianxun’s movements halted.

He looked along where the sound came from, seeing a corner of a flowing cloud pattern pressed on a robe hem, emanating threads of silver light. Then an extremely long sword—the sheath silver-white, carrying a moon-like coldness in the rain threads.

An outsider, a living person.

But judging by appearance, different from those previous living people who entered and couldn’t survive three days.

An ominous feeling of crisis attacked. He stepped back, planning to pretend to be one of the town’s phantom shadows, then leave as if nothing happened. Only before he could turn, that person called out: “Little brother, do you know where Yue Manor is?”

He maliciously pointed to the side. Right now mother and father were both there—whoever went would die.

“This is Yue Manor.”

“Thank you, little brother.” That person spoke gently.

Yue Qianxun randomly nodded, about to leave, when he was called out by the other again. He heard that person chattering: “Little brother, what’s your name? Do you know where this is? I’m a Central Province sword cultivator, mistakenly entered here, and really can’t find the way. Do you know where to exit?”

He lowered his eyes, not speaking, only shaking his head.

But that person still wouldn’t let him go, instead reaching out to grab him: “Look at you—how did you get injured? Did someone bully you? I’ll help you look.”

Even though Yue Qianxun rarely interacted with people, he still detected this person’s strange behavior. He pulled his hand back, warily saying: “My mother is still waiting for me to go home to eat.”

Stepping back twice, he turned to leave. Turning around, he shockingly discovered ten steps away, there were actually two more people! Sneakily holding a huge sack to cover his head!

Yue Qianxun: “…”

He immediately ran!

“Catch him! Don’t let him run!” Su Tan shouted, holding his sword and rushing over, grabbing for Yue Qianxun’s collar. Unexpectedly, that dry, monkey-like youth made a fake move—on the surface rushing toward He Tingtong, but actually, when Su Tan approached, he spun around. From his sleeve slid out a pitch-black thing like a long spike, covered in dark red and sticky substance, flying with countless cinnabar-like ominous curse scripts, directly smashing toward Su Tan’s chest!

Su Tan’s pupils constricted. His body leaned back, but he still couldn’t react in time. In an instant, the terror of being stabbed to death attacked. He uncontrollably thought—if it were Qin Tan, he should be able to dodge.

I dragged him down.

Huge regret swallowed him. Su Tan fell to the ground.

At the critical moment, Fu Fengyan seemed to appear out of thin air behind Yue Qianxun. A pale, slender palm pressed onto his head, like swatting a mosquito, heavily pressing down and buckling him onto the blue stone slab. With a boom, the stone slab cracked. That pitch-black long spike barely grazed Su Tan’s collar, heavily smashing into the ground. Fu Fengyan pinched Yue Qianxun’s fingers, breaking the long spike out of his grip, and disdainfully threw it away.

He held the sack with one hand, shaking it, covering the boy from head to tail, pinching the bag opening, lifting it up, twisting twice, and very easily holding it up. Like showing off, he shook it, looking up smiling: “Caught him.”

He Tingtong ran over in two steps, tying the bag opening with a hemp rope. “Not dead?”

Fu Fengyan thought briefly: “Don’t know, but I held back.”

He Tingtong looked at the blood dripping from the sack, clicking his tongue: “…Forget it. Dead or not, find a place to check later.”

“Brother Tan, are you injured?” He Tingtong turned to pull Su Tan from the ground, patting debris from his body. Seeing only a hole torn in his clothes, he immediately felt relieved. Seeing him still in a daze, mind wandering, he reached out to shake him, then forcefully hugged him: “Snap out of it!”

Su Tan shuddered. The sound of his heartbeat only now caught up. He pressed his chest, gasping heavily. Steadying himself, he looked at the two little followers before him, legs weak, tremblingly saying: “I just almost died.”

“Where?” He Tingtong pushed his back forward. “Your movements were very agile. This kid wanting to hurt you is far from it. Moreover, we’re still here.”

“Go, go, go—hide first!”

Inside the sack, blood dripped in a line. Yue Qianxun, dizzy and disoriented, heard the voices of several people discussing outside: “What’s the Dragon Maiden’s obsession?”

“Divorce, revenge, kill husband?”

“Raise son?”

“Otherwise just kill them all.”

…

Voices outside the bag were blurry, separated by a layer like water waves constantly oscillating. Yue Qianxun curled in the bag, his head dizzy. He felt he was dying, yet unexpectedly thought of past events he hadn’t dreamed of in many years.

At that time, mother was still alive.

They lived in the small town and had a courtyard with four sides. Mother would teach him to read, dao methods, wash clothes, and cook. When he had nightmares and discomfort, she’d hold him humming songs. Also, she would grab his neck, eyes showing startling killing intent. After he called out “mother,” she’d embarrassedly let go, then give him a candy, letting him play in the courtyard.

The word “mother” became his life-saving straw.

She also often looked at his face in a daze, seeming to see some old friend through his face.

Later she became ill. The house filled with a declining, rotting breath—gloomy water vapor. No matter how much charcoal fire was lit, it was useless. He held the medicine bowl, his hands scalded red. The bitter medicine juice couldn’t be fed in. Mother’s ice-cold, slender hands grabbed his neck. Those sick eyes were still so bright—bright like a fire burning.

“Why why why…” Her lips murmured, like asking him, like asking someone else.

He was choked unable to breathe, instinctively crying out: “Mother?”

“…Mother?”

That night, apricot blossoms bloomed greatly in the center courtyard. Half his left face was burned. Crying bitterly, he fled out, taken in by a neighboring lady. She cleaned his wounds, applied medicine, and he tremblingly slept one night. The next day he was sent back with a face full of severe pain, only to see a stiff corpse.

At that time he didn’t understand life and death, only felt the woman had changed. Those mournful, hazy eyes—once pitch-black like pearls soaking in water—now floated with a layer of shadow, reflecting no human figure.

She didn’t leave him half a sentence.

He lay on her ice-cold body sleeping one day and night. Waking, another “mother” appeared in the courtyard. She wore fairy-like clothes, long skirt trailing the ground, veils coiling, beckoning toward him.

Then one hand dragged him, one hand held mother’s corpse, bringing him into that great marsh at the ferry.

The other “mother” treated him very well. Whatever the previous mother did, she also did—teaching, reading, stewing soup for him, teaching him dao methods. Only repeating over and over, all things he’d learned.

The place he could move also became smaller—at most only one small town’s size. He always watched mother go out, bringing back a man with blurry features. They fell in love, married. Then on the third day, she was pierced through the body by a long nail. Moon-white clothes soaked red with blood. The sky began raining. The man slowly left. Such a cycle repeated.

Every time at this moment, another woman appeared in the courtyard—red dress, carrying a lamp, wearing a veiled hat. At first appearing like a hallucination for an instant, later she appeared longer and longer, appearing at the door, window, courtyard wall, street corner, always following him, neither far nor near.

The small town’s movable places also gradually decreased—three-quarters, half, now only less than one-sixth left. Those disappeared places all became vast white fog. He couldn’t exit, but could hear behind the mist countless miserable howls and sobs, not resembling the human world.

He had a premonition—if he didn’t leave, sooner or later he would die here.

A handful of pills poured into his mouth.

Yue Qianxun opened crimson eyes, seeing three backlit figures sitting before him, lined up in a row. Their sitting postures were all different, temperament fierce, very arrogant appearance—they didn’t look like any righteous path.

Of course, to be able to enter here completely unharmed—they must also be evil cultivators with profound cultivation.

“What business do the three masters have? If you want to exit, kidnapping me is probably useless.” He had no strength to struggle. His body was still in the bag, only his head outside, lying on the ground like a dead fish.

“How do you know it’s useless without trying?” An ice-cold voice retorted. “You’re the only living person here.”

“Masters are formidable!” Yue Qianxun twisted his body, struggling to sit up. His forehead was broken, covered in blood, and beneath the disheveled hair, a pair of eyes were deathly dull. “Why don’t we cooperate?”

“Oh? What do you have to cooperate with us?” The youth raised his hand, half-propping his head.

“You three just entered? Haven’t spent a night here, so naturally, you don’t know the terror after nightfall. I’m not exaggerating—without a guide, none of you three will survive. If you want to leave, you can only cooperate with me.”

Yue Qianxun raised his head, staring at the three before him explaining: “I’m originally a fisherman from Yimeng Marsh. One day went out fishing, encountered fog, mistakenly entered here. Then I couldn’t find the exit anymore, survived wretchedly here for years, finally discovered the method to leave.”

“I’m a mortal, so I can hide here. You immortal masters have abundant spiritual energy—you are conversely conspicuous. I still have relatives at home waiting. I only want to exit and reunite with them. I absolutely won’t deceive you!”

“Moreover, I’ve already received such severe injuries. Do you three masters still fear a powerless child who can’t resist?”

His body indeed could be said to be riddled with gaping wounds, especially his face—beneath blood stains one could also see scar marks, almost disfiguring half his face.

The three before him were silent, looking like they were contemplating countermeasures.

Su Tan secretly transmitted: “Here at night is indeed very dangerous. After all, outside there’s still that lantern-carrying Dragon Maiden.”

“Actually there’s something more dangerous.” He Tingtong looked up, gaze roaming, quietly responding: “Today in desperation, we two had no choice but to lightly hit Immortal Lord Qin Tan. I think he should be very angry. When night comes, Ah Fu and I will probably be liquidated.”

Mm, extremely likely to be chased and hacked by someone.

Su Tan: “…”

Fu Fengyan beside him nodded, expressing agreement.

“You’re formidable, truly bold.” Su Tan admiringly raised his thumbs. “Then quick battle, quick resolution!”

“Kill the scumbag or kill the son?”

“Bring him over to look. The protagonist can’t die anyway—we should still kill the scumbag.”

They decisively changed faces, releasing Yue Qianxun from the bag, touching his head affectionately: “Come, young friend, tell us—how to do it?”

The youth lowered his head, damp forehead hair hanging before his eyes, covering his entire brows and eyes. He also smiled, showing a row of small white teeth: “At the street’s end is Yue Manor. The Yue clan’s female lord is the realm master. Kill her and her husband—this world naturally dissipates.”

“You three masters, want me to lead the way?”

These three froze briefly, indeed as he thought, taking the bait. They rose in unison, using a chain to clasp his hands, following behind him.

Yue Qianxun lowered his head walking ahead, thinking of the scene about to be seen, soundlessly laughing, his thin shoulders and back all lightly trembling.

Su Tan’s face was wooden, clicking his tongue: “The little bastard is very bad, wants to use us as knives.”

He Tingtong glanced at that figure several times, instructing Su Tan: “You know he’s bad—that’s enough.”

The three followed Yue Qianxun, along the road’s big red happiness characters forward, finding a three-entry, three-exit large mansion. At this time, the courtyard gate was tightly closed. Yue Qianxun raised his chin: “It’s here. Masters, go ahead.”

So Su Tan strode forward, dong-dong knocking. After a moment, a plain white hand pulled open the gate. A snow-clothed woman looked at them through a veiled hat, gently saying: “May I ask what business you have?”

Yue Qianxun stood to the back side, hiding behind everyone. The chain on his hands was held by a cold-faced youth; the other watched him, eyes ice-cold, showing not half a trace of emotion.

Before, this person also struck heaviest—that head press, he felt brain matter nearly burst out.

Struck too ruthlessly—definitely an old hand at killing and arson.

But it doesn’t matter. Only needs a short while—they’ll all die, same as those cultivators who barged in before.

“You’re the Yue clan’s female lord?” The youth’s gentle, clean voice sounded.

The woman nodded: “It’s me. What business do you have?”

“Did you take a husband yesterday?”

The woman nodded again: “Correct.”

Yue Qianxun saw the leading youth draw his sword, gathering momentum. He stood at the very back eerily watching, waiting to see their blood splash on the spot.

Then he heard a roar from level ground: “Let that damned husband of yours roll out!”

“That turtle bastard—he abandoned wife and child, toyed with hearts, owed a butt-load of debts, also bullied my sister. This scum can actually still find a next victim, and still wants to live off a woman here?!”

“No way!”

“Let that pretty boy come out! I’m going to hack him to death!”

Full of vigor, looking fierce and malicious.

The Dragon Maiden froze: “How is that possible…”

“Sister, just let it go! Don’t protect that scum anymore. You don’t know—wuwuwu…” The shorter youth wiped tears, falling with a thud, hugging the woman’s calf crying, articulating clearly: “Your husband also hangs a sign selling his body in our town’s male brothel!”

“He lies saying he’s the Demon Lord, betrayed by subordinates, now wandering outside, penniless, wanting to make a comeback. Meets people asking for money—already deceived over a hundred people!”

Woman: “…”

Yue Qianxun: “…”

She took a deep breath, slightly making way: “What are you saying? Demon Lord?”

The horizon resounded with rolling muffled thunder. Black clouds fell to earth—pouring rain began.

“Right! He’s the Demon Lord—a scum who cheats wealth and sex!” He Tingtong added oil and vinegar to the fire. “Moreover an assassin, flower-picking thief, scoundrel hooligan—most skilled at bullying the weak and fearing the strong! Don’t be deceived by him. Let us slaughter him!!”

Su Tan and He Tingtong were quick-eyed and deft, supporting the Dragon Maiden as she walked back. A group aggressively rushed to the courtyard center.

The ink-clothed youth had an extremely romantic, handsome face, currently brewing wine and tea in the hall. Seeing so many people come, he was obviously somewhat surprised: “Wife, what’s wrong?”

The Dragon Maiden’s eyes were full of tears: “They say you’re picking flowers outside, being with me is to cheat wealth and sex!”

“How is that possible?” The ink-clothed man’s expression was extremely doting. “Madam, I love you most.”

“Sister, look! He says ‘love most’ not ‘love only’!” He Tingtong interrupted. “His good sisters are numerous enough to compile into a biography—are you still not sober a bit?!”

The Dragon Maiden murmured: “Why did you hide your identity? You approached me to do what?”

He Tingtong: “Of course for your dragon pearl and horns! He doesn’t love you at all!”

The Dragon Maiden wept tears: “…Truly so!”

Mist flowed—the surrounding scenery suddenly changed!

“Useful, useful! I knew it—her heart knot mostly lies with the Demon Lord.” He Tingtong quietly muttered. “Wandering spirits are mostly immersed in the past, daily repeating previous heart knots, then resentment deepens, nourishing evil karma. As long as we break her obsession, and quickly do away with the Demon Lord, there won’t be the pill-digging, horn-severing two days later. Then her obsession will scatter.”

Su Tan received the signal, nodding.

“Scum, die!” Su Tan drew his sword, leaping, directly hacking toward the man.

The long sword entered the Demon Lord’s body. In the next moment, he transformed into smoke and dust. Then the earth shook, mountains swayed—a mass of black qi exploded out!

The sharp long blade broke open the smoke, revealing the Demon Lord’s true form. All love was like dream bubbles—after breaking, only boundless spreading darkness remained.

Houses immediately collapsed. Simultaneously, the snow-clothed woman revealed a massive dragon body, charging headfirst toward that black-clothed person!

The person-thick corridor pillars immediately snapped. Tiles flew wildly. The Realm’s spirit pressure became unstable—their group was immediately swept flying out.

Yue Qianxun’s hands were bound, his spine hitting a beam, heavily falling to the ground, spewing blood.

Su Tan threw himself forward, grabbing him, protecting him in his arms. The youth’s pitch-black eyes reflected an ice-carved, snow-sculpted face. His heartbeat thumped and quickened. However, before he could savor anything, in the next second, two more faces appeared in his vision—one crying, one wooden and dull, all squeezing into Su Tan’s not-broad chest.

Yue Qianxun, caught in the middle, was immediately squeezed into a thin pancake.

“Big brother!” He Tingtong shouted. “I’m so scared!!”

Fu Fengyan followed shouting: “I’m scared too!”

Su Tan: “???”

Three people hung on him—the pressure doubled. The sword was somewhat pressed, making it hard to fly. Comforting words still blurted out: “I’m here—don’t be afraid!”

“All come over, hold me tight!” Su Tan stood with his sword horizontal, raising a hand forming seals, breaking the fierce wind. Mercury-like sword light shone brightly. Su Tan’s body spirit light was like the moon, majestically blocking the very front, very reliable.

Yue Qianxun’s dim eyes suddenly brightened: “You’re an immortal…”

In the next second, the embrace protecting them loosened. The three youths were thrown like garbage, flung flying, rolling dozens of meters away.

Qin Tan opened his eyes, disdainfully patting his robes, looking at the ruins ahead, looking at those who rolled away, coldly laughing: “Boys, quite the scheming hearts.”

Dusk arrived.

He Tingtong held his head, not daring to speak.