thefictionvixens Chapter 2 A Divine Gaze Across Thousands of Miles to Mingdu
Chapter 2 A Divine Gaze Across Thousands of Miles to Mingdu
Chapter 2 A Divine Gaze Across Thousands of Miles Gazing Upon the Ming Capital (Revised Edition)
Mingdu. The Federal Capital. The soul-guided shield in the sky is blue. At night, it looks like a pot lid. I already told you, didn't I? I've already said it, so be it.
There's a white building in the middle of the city. It's the White House. It's over there on Capitol Hill. I've never been there. Anyway, ordinary people can't go in. Why build something so beautiful if you can't let people see it?
The White House has seven underground floors. Seven or eight, I think. I forget. Anyway, you go down many floors. Several of the elevator buttons weren't working. Once I pressed the wrong floor in that elevator, and when the door opened, there was a strong smell of ozone. It was in that teleportation room.
That teleportation room, how to describe it... the moment you step inside, your nose tells you. You know you're there without even looking. Ozone mixed with coolant. And a metallic smell. All tangled together. Stuffy. Every time I go in, it feels like a stone is pressing on my chest. I can only stand there for five minutes at most. Any longer and I have to leave. That scientist works there every day. Is his lungs okay? I don't know.
The teleportation array in the middle of the hall. Silver. Patterns on the floor. Bright blue light. Flashing. Have you ever seen those medical documentaries? Those heart monitors. One beat after another. Something like that. The first time I went there, I stared at it for a long time. The person next to me asked what I was looking at, and I said, "Does it look alive?" He glanced at me but didn't say anything.
Mo Runshu was wearing a gray trench coat that day. He didn't usually dress like that. He usually wore a white military uniform or a red robe, looking like he was going to a meeting wherever he went. He changed that day. The collar was turned up, half his face was behind it, only his eyes were showing. When he stood there, you didn't dare to look at him. Not out of fear. You just didn't dare to look. It was like passing by a soldier on guard duty; you wouldn't dare to stare at him for too long. Something like that.
Yue Mianmian stood next to him. A black cloak. The hood pulled low. You could only see her chin and mouth. Her lips were painted red. I don't know the shade. I don't know anything about that. If she stood there, you were lucky if you dared to walk within half a meter of her. Once, I got close and she glanced at me. I don't know how to describe that glance. Not fierce. Just cold. The kind of coldness you get when a refrigerator door is opened. But not quite. Something a little deeper. Three days.
Scientist. White coat. Sweat. The keyboard clattered away. Fingers. I reckon he changes that keyboard every week. His voice trembled as he spoke. The coordinates of the older brother and sister-in-law have been locked. Donghai Academy Affiliated Junior High School. I forgot the deviation rate. 0.01 or 0.00s. He emphasized the words "absolutely precise."
Mo Runshu said it didn't need to be so precise. Too much precision would make it easy for Shrek Academy to find out. Just throw it anywhere in Donghai City. Anyway, I wanted to take a walk.
His "I wanted to take a walk anyway" was said to Yue Mianmian, not to the scientist. The scientist was nodding vigorously. He was probably waiting for that sentence. Then he pulled the trigger. Suddenly, the building shook. A silver beam of light shot up. The two people were gone. The scientist covered his eyes, stumbled backward, and hit a stool. His legs went weak, and he sat down, unable to get up for a long time.
When I arrived at Donghai City, they were already sitting at the wonton stall. I don't know how they got there so quickly. I was in a different carriage. Maybe it wasn't the same transfer station.
The sea breeze from Donghai City is fishy and sticky. I always have to wash my hair after going to Donghai City. I can't skip it. That smell lingers all day. Breakfast is out. Steam. Wontons, steamed buns, soy milk, and fried dough sticks. They smell okay, but the combination is a bit strange.
The wonton stall near the college gate. The owner was a middle-aged man. There were oil spots on his apron. I noticed the way he glanced at Mo Runshu. It wasn't just a casual glance. It was the kind of look that made your heart skip a beat. Business people see people every day, so they have sharp eyes. He knew these two weren't ordinary people. But he didn't say anything.
Yue Mianmian was looking inside the academy. Her movements were incredibly subtle. Her head was only tilted slightly. I couldn't sense how her divine sense was unfolding, but I knew she was doing that. I didn't capture the moment her eyes turned silver. What a pity. I was too slow to grab my phone. Her silver eyes were different from usual. She's usually quite pretty, but when they turned silver, it was a bit frightening. It wasn't her appearance that changed. It was the feeling she evoked. It's like looking at someone and suddenly realizing they're not human. You know what I mean?
She was talking to Mo Runshu. Her voice was soft, I couldn't hear her. But I roughly knew what she was saying. The bloodline of the Sea God and the Asura God was fluctuating. In that direction.
Mo Runshu stirred the wonton soup. His lips curled up. I always knew what he was thinking with that expression. He didn't say anything. But he wanted to say something, yet he wouldn't. He looked at me anxiously.
The Golden Dragon King's aura is domineering. In ancient times, he would have been the Dragon God's top warrior. Now, he's just a pawn. He said this loudly. Did the boss hear him? The boss was cooking wontons. He probably didn't hear him. Even if he did, he wouldn't understand.
Yuemian asked him how he was going to take it away. He said it wasn't the right time. He ate slowly. He took a long time to chew a single wonton. I suspected he wasn't chewing, but rather thinking about how to say it. He only spoke when he felt it was about time.
Forcibly taking them away would trigger the mark. It would bring Tang Hao and A Yin over. They wouldn't be easy to deal with, especially Tang Hao. That temper of his—he'd smash anyone he saw, no matter who they were. I don't know if Mo Runshu is afraid of Tang Hao. He hasn't said anything. But I noticed his chopsticks paused when he mentioned Tang Hao's name.
Then Yue Mianmian moved her fingers. A very subtle movement. You might not even see it if you were sitting right across from her. But you could feel the air change. Like the air conditioner suddenly being turned down half a degree. Her eyes turned silver. She looked at the lines. Densely packed, invisible to me, but visible to her. After four or five seconds, she said, "Three days later. The people from the Spirit Tower will come. It's his first chance. It's also our chance."
After each of these phases, she seems to lose energy. She needs to catch her breath. Not that she's tired, it's just... how to put it... that feeling of coming back from somewhere. Today, she caught her breath for about two seconds, faster than usual. Maybe it's just a habit.
Gu Yue. The Silver Dragon King's avatar. Will come. She said Gu Yue carried too heavy a burden. The hope of the entire soul beast race. Her Star Angel resonated with her. Mo Runshu raised an eyebrow and asked, "You resonated with her too?" She said it wasn't a threat. They were of the same kind. She was a dragon, I was an angel. The king of the old era, the emperor of the new. When they met, peace was impossible.
She always makes these kinds of boastful statements with a remarkably calm expression. It's like she's stating a fact. Whether you believe it or not is up to you.
Mo Runshu laughed. This time, he really laughed out loud. An old man next to him glared at him. The old man was wearing a short-sleeved shirt from that era of military green. He held a palm-leaf fan in his left hand and a radio in his right. The radio was playing opera. He couldn't tell what kind of opera it was. The old man glared at him. He ignored him.
Then he took a card out of his pocket. It was gold. He placed it at the bottom of the bowl. He got up and left. He ate half of the wontons. There was some soup left at the bottom. I later looked at the card. I didn't know what kind of card it was. I'd never seen one before.
---
Harosa is in a suburban factory area. The underground one. Broken glass, corrugated iron, crumbling walls. It rattles and clangs in the wind. There are tons of mosquitoes in the summer. The one time I went there, I wore long pants and still got bitten all over my legs. My mom later said it was fleas, not mosquitoes. Anyway, it itched for a long time.
The candles in the basement weren't for electric lights. Was he trying to save electricity or what? I don't know. Bones. A pile. Whose bones are we talking about? Maybe not human. They look like bones. But he sat on them like it was a sofa. I felt uncomfortable just looking at them. He didn't seem to notice.
The members of the Dark Guard knelt. They were dressed in black, their faces obscured. They knelt, too afraid to move. Harosa toyed with the green soul-guiding core, its light flickering. He wasn't good-looking to begin with; the light made him even less attractive.
The Holy Spirit Cult's stronghold has been located. They're lurking near the academy, watching the same child. Harosa cursed them as a pack of hungry dogs, his voice hoarse and grating.
He wanted to give the child a surprise. The bloodline of the Golden Dragon King. Utterly masculine and powerful. The nemesis of death energy, and also a tonic. Let's see if it will awaken him. He said this with a smile. You don't want to see that smile. I saw it once and don't want to see it a second time.
The members of the Dark Side asked what would happen if Shrek was alerted. Harosa said those old fogies wouldn't come out unless someone was killed. He then stood up. The deathly aura beneath his armor suddenly burst forth. The temperature in the basement dropped. I didn't check the thermometer on my phone, but I felt it had dropped three or four degrees. The candle flickered. It didn't go out.
The sword was pulled out a bit and then pulled back in. He almost didn't hold it down. He pushed it back in himself. He pressed it in with his hand.
With the elder brother around, even that old bastard from the Sea God Pavilion would have to think twice before coming.
---
The forging workshop. The factory was empty. Clang, clang, clang. Echoes. Tang Wulin stood shirtless. His gray hair was wet and plastered to his forehead. That workshop had no air conditioning. It was unbearably hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter. Nobody knew why he insisted on forging iron there. Such a small child.
Sweat dripped onto the iron block with a sizzling sound, emitting white smoke. The hammer was heavy. He could handle it. He could swing it. Every strike landed precisely on the seams. It wasn't just random hammering. He'd practiced.
He muttered the last hundred times. His lips moved. The sound wasn't loud, but it was audible in the empty factory.
He's so focused that he won't hear you even if you call him from the side. I've tried it. Last time, I called out "Tang Wulin" from outside the door. No response. I went inside and stood next to him. About ten seconds later, he looked up. I was startled. I was startled too.
After getting that piece of iron from Mu Xi, he couldn't stop forging. What does "couldn't stop" mean? It means he felt uncomfortable if he didn't forge for a day. Like... well, I don't know how else to describe it.
Then his hammer veered off course. Not because it slipped. It was because he suddenly felt a chill down his back. My mom said that chill meant someone had stepped on your grave. I don't believe in those things. But everyone has definitely had that feeling. Walking at night and feeling something behind you. You turn around and there's nothing there. But you know what it is. You can't quite put your finger on it.
Tang Wulin's hand trembled, and he almost dropped the hammer. He stopped. He looked around. He called out to someone. No one answered. After the echo faded, it was eerily quiet.
He froze for a few seconds. I can't remember if he blinked two or three times. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm and said, "Why do I suddenly feel so cold, like I'm being watched by something?"
He was unaware that Mo Runshu had scanned him from hundreds of meters away. Harosa had just withdrawn his own gaze.
He's a piece of meat now. Lost in a wolf pack, in those dark places where everyone's watching. He knows nothing. He's still wondering why that piece of iron veered off course when he struck it.
He cursed, "Whatever." I didn't hear what he said. His mouth moved slightly. Then he raised the hammer again.
Nobody can stop me. He's said that countless times. Every time he misses or the hammer slips from his hand, he says it. It's practically become his catchphrase.
The ding-ding-ding started again. Heavier than before. Like it was challenging something. It didn't even know who it was challenging.
Hanging in mid-air.
The wind passed by them but couldn't touch them. I've had dreams like that. Dreams of being suspended in mid-air. I stayed awake for a long time afterward.
Mo Runshu looked down at the kid. He could see. I couldn't. The roof was blocking the view. Anyway, he was the one with special abilities.
He knew what path that kid would take in the future, how much hardship he would endure, how much blood he would shed, and how much he would lose. He knew it all because he had seen it in another place.
He glanced at Yue Mianmian and said something like, "What do you mean by 'reading a novel in your past life'? The male protagonist built a cenotaph when he was young and prepared his burial clothes when he was young. What does that mean? It means he felt he wouldn't live long, so he prepared them in advance, so that no one would take care of him when he died."
He paused. It was different from usual. He usually talks non-stop. That day he stopped.
"If this kid keeps this drive," he said softly, "maybe I'll take him on as my apprentice."
Yue Mianmian didn't speak. After a while, she spoke. What happened to that person afterwards?
Mo Runshu didn't look at her. He was still looking down.
He put on his funeral clothes. He said.
Then there was silence again.