Taohua’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“I don’t mean I don’t trust Miss A-Tian, it’s just…”
“The Protector is only worried about Xiaozhu, that’s all. Right?”
A-Tian smiled gently.
Taohua nodded. To her, A-Tian felt like a gentle, understanding older sister. That inexplicable sense of warmth made her unconsciously want to rely on her.
By the time the two of them returned to the side courtyard, Xiaozhu was already waiting at the door.
“Miss Xiaozhu.”
Taohua hurried forward and looked her over from head to toe.
“Your injuries aren’t too serious, are they?”
“Thank you for your concern, Protector. It’s only some superficial wounds.”
Xiaozhu answered with a smile, though inwardly she was a bit surprised that Taohua cared so much about how badly she was hurt.
“Speaking of which, I still haven’t thanked you properly, Sister Tian.”
Xiaozhu turned to A-Tian with a smile.
“If you hadn’t arrived when you did, then…”
As the image of Xiaoyuan being dragged away by the Punishment Hall disciples flashed in her mind, Xiaozhu’s smile stiffened.
She and Xiaoyuan had grown up in the Night God Cult since they were little, training together, playing together. That kind of deep bond wasn’t something an outsider could truly understand. The Protector had shown them great kindness, so they had long since decided that the Protector would be their future Sect Master.
Xiaoyuan had always been like this. In her heart there was only the Protector, and nothing else. Even if it was something the Protector disliked, she would still risk her life to see it done for her sake. She had never understood what “currying favor” meant. This time was no different. She had actually gone so far as to defy the Protector’s orders and violate sect rules, even alarming the Punishment Hall….
Thinking of this, a trace of bitterness slid through Xiaozhu’s heart.
“If there’s nothing else, this servant will take her leave first.”
“Miss A-Tian, there’s no need to be so polite.”
Seeing A-Tian give her a light bow, Taohua hurried to help her up. Even Xiaozhu spoke of her with respect; clearly this A-Tian was no ordinary maid. At the very least, her position had to be higher than Xiaozhu’s.
Taohua gave a light, graceful smile.
“For what happened today, we truly must thank you, Miss A-Tian.”
“Protector, there’s no need to stand on ceremony. In the future, just call me by my name.”
Taohua blinked, then realized A-Tian was reminding her to pay attention to her own status. She couldn’t help shaking her head and sighing.
“Times really have changed.”
Back then, all she’d wanted was to cling tightly to Guan Fusha’s thick, sturdy thigh. How had she ended up in such a sorry state instead?
On the other side.
After A-Tian left with Taohua, a flash of vivid red quietly appeared in the pavilion. The figure walked over and sat down on the stone bench beside Guan Fusha, poured herself a cup of fragrant tea, and looked in the direction Taohua had gone.
“If A-Tian hadn’t told me in time,” she said with a sultry laugh,
“your precious junior sister would’ve already died without even a corpse left to bury.”
“Where’s Xiaoyuan?”
Guan Fusha’s smile was still there, but her voice had grown noticeably colder.
“In the Punishment Hall.”
Yan Hong took a sip of tea.
“It’s not like you don’t know what she’s like. I really can’t do anything with her.”
Guan Fusha raised an eyebrow. Her expression said everything that needed saying.
The Head of the Punishment Hall of the Night God Cult, saying something like that—was that really appropriate?
“Let’s go.”
Guan Fusha stepped out of the pavilion. A few light leaps later, she had already vanished from Yan Hong’s line of sight.
Yan Hong put down her teacup, shook her head, and clicked her tongue softly, unable to help sighing inwardly.
When had their Protector’s temper become so impatient?
The Punishment Hall of the Night God Cult was set in a remote corner of the grounds, close to Loveless Cliff. Because it rarely saw any sunlight, wild grass grew in tangled clumps all around, and vines dangled from the rooftops, swaying gently whenever the wind blew. Added to that, the exterior of the hall was entirely black, making the place look even more grim and foreboding, enough to chill one’s bones.
When the gate guards saw the Protector making a rare personal visit, they hurried forward to open the door for her.
“Greetings, Protector.”
“You’ve worked hard.”
Guan Fusha gave them a small nod, then walked inside.
The interior of the Punishment Hall was very different from its ominous exterior. It was clean and orderly, the environment relatively comfortable, and the layout quite similar to the main hall, only on a smaller scale.
Guan Fusha passed through the outer hall, lifted the hanging curtain, and walked straight toward the back.
Beyond was a dim passageway, lined on both sides with thick stone walls. No sunlight reached this place; the only light came from the torches fixed along the walls. Not a trace of vitality could be felt here, only gloomy, oppressive air.
She continued on, passed through a small doorway, and saw a neat row of cells stretching out before her. Some were empty, others held prisoners; the only thing they had in common was the hollow, lifeless look on every face. They were like walking corpses, with not a spark of life in them.
“Protector.”
A guard respectfully greeted Guan Fusha and opened the innermost door for her.
“Mm.”
She gave a faint reply and stepped inside.
Within, Xiaoyuan was sitting cross-legged on the ground. Her hands and feet were all locked in chains, and in just a few short hours she already looked much more haggard. The instant she saw Guan Fusha enter, she tried to leap to her feet in agitation, the chains clattering loudly. Her voice was packed with desperate urgency, like someone who had endured a long, endless wait and finally seen hope arrive.
“Protector!”
Guan Fusha walked over to the desk and sat down, lifting a teacup to take a small sip.
“Easy.”
When she’d first come in, she’d immediately noticed the red, chafed skin on Xiaoyuan’s wrists and ankles. Clearly she had struggled violently against the chains, grinding the metal into her flesh.
Guan Fusha used the lid to brush away the foam on the surface of the tea, took another sip, and then asked calmly,
“Your hands and feet don’t hurt?”
“Protector…”
Xiaoyuan started, slowly lowering her head. Her heart was a jumble of emotions, but in the end, all that rose to the surface was a bitter ache.
“As long as it’s for you, Protector, this servant doesn’t feel any pain.”
“You don’t feel pain, so you had the nerve to defy my orders like this?”
Guan Fusha set down her teacup. Her voice was several degrees colder than usual.
“No, that’s not it!”
Xiaoyuan’s emotions surged. She jerked at the chains, making them clash loudly.
“Everything this servant did was for the Protector’s sake!”
“Tsk, tsk. What a devoted little maid, so loyal to her mistress.”
Yan Hong strolled in at an unhurried pace, clapping as she spoke. The mocking smile on her face was deeply seared into Xiaoyuan’s eyes.
She walked right up to Xiaoyuan and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Do you have any idea that your reckless actions almost ruined something very good for us?”
Xiaoyuan’s face went blank. She had no idea what “something good” Yan Hong was talking about. But in the next heartbeat, her mind leapt to Taohua, who had been rescued by Guan Fusha by sheer accident, and then to the position of Left Protector.
Her face went pale in an instant. She looked past Yan Hong toward Guan Fusha, her lips suddenly dry.
“C-could it be that…”
“Enough.”
Guan Fusha’s light voice cut her off. For once there wasn’t the slightest hint of a smile on her face; her expression was impossible to read, neither joy nor anger visible.
She glanced at Yan Hong, a faint thread of reproach in her eyes.
“Yan Hong, you’ve said too much.”
Yan Hong snorted lightly, unconcerned. She walked back to the spot where she’d been sitting earlier and settled herself there again, deciding she wanted no part in this mistress-and-servant drama.
