Chapter 130 The First Step to Becoming a Demon Is to Kill He Jianzhu
On the ground, golden light gathered, and the woman's body condensed in an instant. Everyone present felt their spiritual pressure drain immediately as strands of spiritual energy merged into the woman's eyebrows.
When her fully solidified body was about to fall, Xia Feng snapped out of his daze and quickly reached out to catch her.
The woman wore a simple black dress without any adornments. Her silver-white hair fluttered in the air, and her serene, gentle face bore a resemblance of about five or six parts to Mu Qingtong. For a moment, Xia Feng was lost in the illusion that this was Mu Qingtong herself.
However, compared to Mu Qingtong, He Jianzhu's under-eye bags were slightly more pronounced, lending her a more mature air. The most striking difference was the teardrop mole at the corner of her right eye. As her eyelids trembled faintly, it looked like a teardrop about to fall, drawing attention irresistibly.
Just as Xia Feng was silently observing, her fluttering eyelashes stilled—then lifted abruptly. Her pale golden pupils gazed at him calmly as she spoke in a gentle voice: "You're here."
Xia Feng's scalp prickled inexplicably, and he blinked.
"Child, could you put me down first?"
"..."
Xia Feng quickly released her, and He Jianzhu descended gracefully to the ground. She glanced around, her eyes settling on the Spirit Flesh Fruit tree in the distance. Raising her hand, she summoned the holy solution pooled beneath the tree.
Ten milliliters of golden liquid gathered in her palm, twisting and shifting until it solidified into an irregular golden particle. She extended her hand slightly, lifting her gaze. "Take it."
"Ah?" Xia Feng was momentarily confused but quickly reached out to accept it. Though he didn't understand why He Jianzhu was being so generous, he wasn't about to refuse the holy solution—it was a valuable treasure.
"He Jianzhu."
Mu Qingtong's figure flickered as she appeared beside Xia Feng. Her cold eyes locked onto the gentle woman who looked so much like her.
He Jianzhu turned her face, her golden eyes meeting the black-clad woman's gaze. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of puzzlement in her expression. "Little girl, who are you? Why do you look so much like me?"
Remarkably, He Jianzhu could see through Qingtong's mask, perceiving her true face.
Mu Qingtong didn't answer. Instead, she stepped forward until she stood less than half a foot from He Jianzhu. Their nearly identical golden eyes held each other's gaze—until Mu Qingtong raised her hand and drove a sharp blade straight through He Jianzhu's heart!
Xia Feng's pupils dilated in shock.
The distant onlookers, unable to hear the exchange, dared not approach. Their shock only deepened at the sight.
Fortunately, He Jianzhu was merely a spirit. The blade passed cleanly through her back. She lowered her head, calmly observing the slender hand impaling her chest, then lifted her gaze again. The corners of her teardrop-marked eyes crinkled as she smiled faintly. "My dear daughter, are you seeking death?"
With a swift motion, Mu Qingtong withdrew her hand, indifferent.
"Tsk." He Jianzhu shook her head helplessly. "It really isn't the real body."
Mu Qingtong ignored her remark, asking instead, "Then, which iteration of He Jianzhu are you?"
"What 'iteration'? I am your mother, He Jianzhu." The plain-clothed woman's voice remained soft and tender. "My dear daughter, you still haven't answered my question." She leaned in slightly, her beautiful face now mere inches from the black-clad woman's, her gaze intense. "Are you going to kill your mother?"
Mu Qingtong narrowed her eyes, refusing to engage.
The two stared at each other in silence, the tension thickening.
Xia Feng, his mind reeling, stood frozen behind them, barely daring to breathe.
Damn. Mu Qingtong said she came to uncover the truth about her mother's death… So she's here to confirm her mother isn't dead—and then finish the job?
Alright, typical Mu Qingtong. I shouldn't be surprised. You really live up to your title as the Witch of Destruction. The first step to becoming a demon? Kill He Jianzhu first!
The thought reminded Xia Feng of a conversation they'd had before entering this disaster:
"By the way, where's your father?"
"I don't have a father."
Mu Qingtong's words echoed in his mind. The way she'd said it was… telling. Xia Feng couldn't help but imagine the gruesome scene of her severing her father's head with a blade.
No, that can't be right. She must have a reason for wanting He Jianzhu dead. Maybe He Jianzhu killed her husband?
His thoughts raced, but something felt off. Would someone as arrogant as Mu Qingtong—who saw all living beings as ants—even care about avenging her father? Unlikely.
In her eyes, even her father was probably just another ant, connected only by blood.
Xia Feng quietly analyzed Mu Qingtong's psychology.
"Ah, forget it. I don't have time to waste on an unfilial daughter like you." The plain-clothed woman sighed, shaking her head. Her gaze drifted back to Xia Feng, and she smiled gently.
"Child, do you know who I am?"
"..."
Who are you? Who else could you be but He Jianzhu?
Wait—is she asking about my relationship with her? Xia Feng blinked, then answered earnestly: "Mother-in-law?"
"?" He Jianzhu froze, as if she'd never expected such a reply.
He Jianzhu blinked her beautiful eyes, studying Mu Qingtong thoughtfully before asking in confusion, "He is your..."
"Fiancé," Mu Qingtong stated flatly.
"..."
He Jianzhu fell silent for a long moment, visibly surprised. "Interesting. But that's fine."
She turned her gaze back to Xia Feng, smiling gently. "It seems you still don't know who I am."
"Ah?" Xia Feng frowned. Why is this woman so cryptic? "Then who are you?"
"Enough chatter. I have something for you." With that, He Jianzhu lightly pressed her index finger against Xia Feng's forehead.
Xia Feng's expression stiffened. When he tried to move away, he found his body completely paralyzed.
"Don't move~" He Jianzhu's voice remained soft.
Xia Feng's eye twitched slightly. "You still haven't answered me. Who are you?"
"Shh~" She placed a finger to her lips, her eyes curving into crescents. "Child, be good and stay quiet, alright?"
"..."
Damn it. Xia Feng seethed internally. Mu Qingtong was right—this woman really does love speaking in riddles!
Yuan Zhoulu and Square Fours stood beneath the Spirit Flesh Fruit Tree, watching the distant trio. Though they couldn't hear the conversation, the scene alone was unnerving.
First, they witnessed Mu Qingtong attempting—and failing—to kill that terrifying woman. Yet the woman remained unfazed, smiling gently as she chatted with the man.
Now, she was even shushing him, her expression amused. What in the world was happening?
"Brother, what realm do you think that man is in?"
"At least a Venerable. But I'd say a seventh-stage Sage is more likely," the man with the TV head answered gravely.
"A Sage?" The gothic lolita stroked her chin, eyes sparkling. "Do you think he could be an eighth-stage Sage?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Square Fours scoffed. "There are only a handful of eighth-stage powerers in the human race. None of them would have time to wander around here."
"True. Besides, this guy is Club's servant. What eighth-stage expert would stoop to that?"
"Wait!" Square Fours's expression blanked. "Even a seventh-stage Sage wouldn't agree to be a servant!"
"Really? We're literally looking at one right now," the gothic lolita countered, her excitement growing. "Brother, use your imagination! Don't you think Club might step on his face at night and play with him however she wants? Tsk tsk—toying with a seventh-stage Sage sounds thrilling!"
"Hah! 'Thrilling'? Look at the sky instead—a bunch of idiots are coming down."
The gothic lolita followed his gaze.
Thirty streaks of flame descended rapidly toward the amusement park before halting midair, revealing their forms—thirty young men scanning their surroundings with playful smirks.
But their expressions soon faltered.
"Wait… Where's the tentacle monster?"
"What 'tentacle monster'? That's Lady Candle-Cutter, the beauty I was going to pamper~~"
"Quit calling her 'beauty'—she's gone!"
"Look down there. Only seven people left?"
Their eyes dropped to the base of the Spirit Flesh Fruit Tree. Five figures lay sprawled on the ground, trembling and devoid of spiritual energy.
The remaining two stood—one of them sporting a black-and-white TV for a head, impossible to miss.
Neither of the two remaining figures showed any spiritual pressure fluctuations as they weakly clung to the tree trunk.
The group in the sky exchanged glances.
The blond man in flower-print shorts and pink shirt - currently lying on his back in midair - smiled faintly. "Let's go check it out, everyone. After all, we've got the Sky God protecting us."
"Let's go! Let's go!"
"Hey! I think I see a loli! Hehehe~"
They began their excited descent, quickly approaching the ground. Only then did they notice the two women and one man standing some distance from the Spirit Flesh Fruit Tree.
The black-skirted woman and white-clothed man faced them with unremarkable appearances. But the silver-haired woman with her back turned - just her silhouette suggested extraordinary beauty.
The pink-shirted man's eyes gleamed. "That woman's mine. The rest of you can do whatever you want with the others." Grinning, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and sauntered toward Xia Feng's group.
"Hehe, I've never eaten a TV-headed man before! Today's the day!" A bald man rubbed his hands together as he advanced toward Square Fours. "This handsome fellow's mine - don't anyone try to take him!"
"Then I'll take this little loli," a suited man declared, eyeing Yuan Zhoulu with interest.
The youths quickly divided their "prey" and fanned out.
Yet the seven beneath the tree showed no trace of nervousness. The five drained third-level spiritualists wore calm expressions that seemed slightly... off.
Yuan Zhoulu and Square Fours simply stared coldly at the twenty-plus approaching figures, their indifferent gazes regarding them like already-dead men.
The pink-shirted man led three companions toward the distant trio at a leisurely pace. But as he drew closer, unease crept in. That silver-haired woman's back looked strangely familiar - had he seen her somewhere before?
Perhaps some noblewoman he'd dallied with? Puzzled, he moved closer and chuckled: "Excuse me, you three~"
(End of this chapter)