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墨書 Inktalez
The man still wore a face of skepticism. At that moment, Ling'er had gotten up from the ground, pulling out a handkerchief from her bosom to cover most of her face, concealing her embarrassment while revealing a hint of vulnerability that made her seem even more pitiful. She cautiously leaned closer and spoke in a sweet, syrupy voice, "Master, have I not served you well? If you think so, then that sturdy monk will surely be unable to resist."
Only then did the man show a slight smile. "If it weren't for my condition, Ling'er, you wouldn't have to endure this."
"It’s no trouble at all. Serving you is never a hardship," she replied.
The man instructed her, "Tomorrow, make sure you don't mistake anyone. It’s the strongest monk."
After saying this, he gestured for Ling'er, who had just suffered an injury from a stick, to help him inside. The weight of his body pressed heavily on her as she endured the pain, continuously uttering flattering words while leaving a trail of blood droplets behind.
Li Cu watched the scene unfold, forgetting even to lick his paws clean.
"The strongest monk? Has he set his sights on Misha?"
This person—oh no—his aura was undeniably demonic. He probably hadn’t seen Misha before; how could he have pinpointed him so accurately with just the description of being strong? Could it be that they knew each other? Or perhaps this demon recognized others from the Small Tavern?
Li Cu quickly transmitted this information through his spiritual sense to Sang Qingxiao, both cats keeping a closer watch on the shabby courtyard.
Sang Qingxiao informed Misha of this discovery: "He’s coming for you. Do you know him?"
From Li Cu's description, the man appeared to have an upright yet slightly handsome face that exuded authority. However, he seemed unwell, breathing heavily—whether due to injury or otherwise was unclear.
The most notable feature was his face; it twitched slightly from time to time with intervals that were not short. After some disguise, an ordinary person might not notice.
Misha confirmed he had never encountered anyone with facial twitching before.
He suggested, "If that maid comes looking for me, I’ll take the opportunity to see."
Just as Sang Qingxiao was about to advise him further, Li Cu's excited voice rang out again. "Xiaoxiao! I know who he is now! He has a qilin face—could he be Misha's father?"
It could also be another from the Qilin Bloodline, but the aura around this person was overwhelmingly strong. Yuanhui had mentioned that he was close to gathering enough Qilin Bloodline essence—so the likelihood of him being Misha's father seemed greater.
After the two entered the house, Li Cu quietly shifted his perspective.
Ling'er first cleaned herself up and gritted her teeth to apply medicine before quickly returning to serve the man again. With a seductive demeanor and bold allure mixed with an enticing scent of blood emanating from her body, she inadvertently heightened the Medicine Effect.
Ling'er became entranced herself and raised her head at an opportune moment to express affection but was startled by the flickering shadow of a beast on the man’s body.
The man was enjoying himself with his eyes closed when he sensed that the woman's movements had stopped. Growing impatient within himself, he continued on.
Ling'er knew she had seen something extraordinary. The urge to please made her grit her teeth as she tried again, but her hands trembled uncontrollably.
The man was clearly displeased; he suddenly opened his eyes, startling Ling'er into kneeling on the ground. She quickly took advantage of the moment to adjust her posture and began to bow her head, burying her face to avoid his gaze.
"You’re afraid of me!"
"No, it’s not that, Master," Ling'er replied, feeling guilty for not serving him well.
"Then why are you shaking?"
Ling'er didn’t know what was happening; she just started trembling. Perhaps it was due to her injuries, or maybe because she had rushed to serve him without paying attention while getting ready, catching a chill in the process.
They say illness comes on like a landslide, and Ling'er was experiencing it firsthand; she truly couldn’t control herself. "Achoo! Achoo!"
After sneezing, Ling'er immediately retreated a few steps while covering her mouth and nose. "Damn it," she thought, suddenly afflicted with this contagious illness. If the Master’s health was already weak, what would happen if he caught it too?
With that thought, she continued to bow fervently.
The man was satisfied with Ling'er’s reaction; it showed that she cared for him. "Stop bowing; if you knock your head too hard, how will you help me bring people over tomorrow? You don’t need to serve me anymore tonight; go rest."
Ling'er obediently thanked him before crawling out of the room on her knees. After gently closing the door behind her, she shifted from kneeling to crawling on all fours back to her small room, disregarding the dirt and tears on her clothes as she curled up under the covers, shaking along with the blanket.
All of this naturally fell under Li Cu's watchful eye.
Though his character was not good, he was quite clever and managed to save his own life in a moment of quick thinking.
Sang Qingxiao and his group settled into the accommodations arranged by Ji Rui, which had been meticulously tidied up. They were too preoccupied to care about such details.
Once the door was closed, they quickly began discussing matters at hand; even the children refused to be coaxed to sleep as everyone gathered in a circle.
Huo Qi asked Misha, "Should we kill him?"
"Amitabha," Misha replied. "Killing one’s father goes against morality; let me take care of it instead."
Xuan Yin reflected on everything that had happened before; although Wisdom Supreme had acted personally, Xuan Yin felt there was a connection between Yuanhui and Misha's father.
Otherwise, how would Wisdom Supreme have known about the Secret Technique related to the Qilin Bloodline and managed to capture one so smoothly?
Wisdom Supreme didn’t act alone against Yuanhui either; he must have taken action himself when he finally encountered Misha's father. Even if it turned out later that it had nothing to do with him, killing a son’s murderer was justified.
Huo Qi thought he wasn’t enough and would be a hindrance; their back-and-forth nearly escalated into an argument.
Qi Xiaomian pulled Huo Qi aside and said, "Dad, don’t get involved in this. You can indeed handle him, but once you act, exposing your Magic Breath will lead to more trouble."
"Son, just wait for you to care about your father. Or why don't you take action? Just be careful when you do; there’s quite a bit of Qilin Bloodline in that body. If we can extract it all, it would be perfect for our Misha. Who knows, I might even get to see the Qilin divine beast in my lifetime. Tsk tsk, what a scene of auspiciousness—just thinking about it excites me."
Qi Xiaomian glanced at Misha's expression and nudged her overly excited father. Encouraging a son to harm his father—was this something to be excited about? She was just about to give him a mild reprimand.
Meanwhile, The Office of Censors was sniffling, "Will Master still be with us after he transforms into a Qilin?"
Huo Qi's excitement was dampened by the sound of The Office of Censors' cries; this was indeed a question worth pondering. What about Old Vine? At critical moments, he always seemed to vanish. That old immortal had lived long enough and read many books; he must have some answers.
Surely, after transforming, he wouldn’t just fly away. This world couldn’t possibly not accommodate an Auspicious Beast, could it?
The Office of Censors climbed onto Misha's lap while Buddha Treasure settled on another. The Two Little Treasures were young but exceptionally perceptive; they understood that having an Auspicious Beast was a good thing but couldn't voice their concerns. Their hearts were heavy with reluctance as they silently watched Misha cry.
Misha's heart melted at their tears. How could he bear to part with the people in this Small Tavern? Yet, he knew there would eventually be a confrontation with that man who might be his father. The outcome was uncertain, and Misha couldn’t promise the children anything.
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