Chapter 241

Chapter 241: About the Aftermath

Yu Sheng’s curiosity was strong, but it had limits. Bai Li Xue’s current state—anyone with a functioning gut could tell she hadn’t been born like that. There was a wild story behind it, the kind a TV studio could milk into three seasons and two specials.

But after spending so long around Bai Li Qing, and after hearing Bai Li Xue speak, Yu Sheng could tell one thing clearly: neither sister wanted to share that past with outsiders.

Not yet. And he and Bai Li Qing weren’t close enough to push.

So Yu Sheng tucked the questions away—temporarily.

Besides, he had something more important to talk about. When it came to dark angels, his curiosity was even stronger.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat and faced Bai Li Qing seriously. “About Anka Aila—what do you want to ask?”

“Everything,” Bai Li Qing said, her expression unreadable as always. “From the moment you entered the wall to the moment the angel fell, I want to know what happened in between. There’s no free lunch. The Special Operations Bureau is willing to pay any reward that doesn’t cross the bottom line.”

The moment Yu Sheng heard that, his eyes lit up. He leaned forward. “Can you transfer the budgets to rebuild two orphanages into the accounts of Hotel and Fairy Tale?”

Bai Li Qing stared at him for a solid five seconds.

“…Why two?”

Yu Sheng looked earnestly offended by the question. “So I can ask for more.”

For the first time since he’d met her, Bai Li Qing’s mouth actually twitched. “That request is not what I expected. I thought you’d ask for privileges in the Borderland. Access to the bureau’s classified database, for example—things money can’t even measure.”

“But for a rookie Spirit Realm detective who only figured out what an otherworld was recently, that’s basically useless,” Yu Sheng said with a laugh. “Especially for me. A database? Even if you moved the entire thing into my living room, I wouldn’t know where to start. I don’t even know what I don’t know.

“Besides, that stuff is vague. If I have questions, I can ask you or Song Cheng. If it’s something I’m allowed to know, you’ll tell me. If it’s something I’m not allowed to know, you’ll have ten thousand ways to keep it ‘confidential’ anyway.” He spread his hands. “Money’s more practical. Fairy Tale and those kids genuinely need it. And you have no idea how expensive it is to feed a nine-tailed fox that’s been starving for decades.”

Bai Li Qing listened, oddly quiet. After a moment, the corner of her mouth lifted just a fraction. “You’re very clear-headed.”

“I’m practical,” Yu Sheng said. “My vision only reaches so far.”

“Fine.” Bai Li Qing nodded without hesitation. “It’s within my influence. Compared to the shock an angel’s fall will bring, what you asked for isn’t much.”

“Then let’s talk about Anka Aila,” Yu Sheng said, shifting into a more comfortable posture. “It’s a long story—starting with when we entered that ‘umbilical cord’ stretching from the orphanage into the sky…”

He spoke slowly and carefully. Bai Li Qing listened with full focus, interrupting only when something was too vague or too unbelievable. Time slipped by in a steady stream of details, questions, and answers.

Much later, Bai Li Qing stood and poured drinks for both of them. When she sat back down, her eyes looked faintly dazed.

Yu Sheng noticed. “Hard to believe, right? Especially after hearing what Anka Aila really was.”

“…A ship that came from ‘outside,’” Bai Li Qing said. For the first time, her calm felt strained, like she was trying to hold the world in place with sheer will. “There are countless theories about the origin and purpose of dark angels. I thought at least one might be close. I didn’t expect the truth to be even more absurd than the wildest theory. It was a ship?”

“It was a ship when it departed,” Yu Sheng said. “After it ‘fell,’ it clearly changed. I don’t know the mechanism—it’s like its essence shifted. Steel that somehow grew a soul.”

Bai Li Qing went quiet, thinking. Yu Sheng tapped the rim of his glass and spoke again.

“There’s another problem.”

“Another problem?” Bai Li Qing frowned slightly.

“Whether Anka Aila was a special case, or whether every dark angel is like it,” Yu Sheng said seriously. “Anka Aila was an exiled ark. What about the others? Tree Angel, the Beauty God, Heka Star… As far as I know, every dark angel looks different. Not just appearance—abilities, too. So do you think they can all be the same kind of thing? If not, then how similar are they, really?”

Bai Li Qing considered it for a long time before answering. “Personally, I think they’re all different. At least, they can’t all be exiled arks. The differences between them are too great.” Her gaze sharpened. “But what you’ve told me does suggest one possibility: other dark angels may have undergone a similar kind of ‘distortion.’”

Yu Sheng nodded.

“They ‘enter’ our world from beyond the universe,” Bai Li Qing continued, thinking aloud. “During that process, they become unrecognizable. Or, to put it another way, they become something we can’t ‘identify’ or ‘understand.’ With Anka Aila, that transformation didn’t look like something it could deliberately activate or control.

“We’ve always treated dark angels as active intruders, but Anka Aila felt more like an accident victim. It was ‘thrown’ into our world by some massive disaster back home…”

“But that doesn’t mean they’re all like that,” Yu Sheng reminded her.

“Right,” Bai Li Qing said. “We can only confirm Anka Aila. At most, we can infer some others might be similar.” Her voice dropped. “But no matter how many Anka Ailas exist, it doesn’t change the fact that dark angels are a massive threat. They don’t need malice to cause disaster. Their existence is a disaster.”

Yu Sheng didn’t speak. He remembered the huge umbilical cord above the orphanage, and the “angel’s fetus” that had almost been born from nightmare into reality.

Bai Li Qing was right.

“What I care about more now,” Bai Li Qing said, “is whether other dark angels also have minds like Anka Aila—minds that can communicate. If so, how many? And how do we identify them?”

Yu Sheng hesitated, then looked at her. “You’re not thinking of launching me at the next descending dark angel, are you?”

“Of course not,” Bai Li Qing said with perfect sincerity—then turned her head away.

Yu Sheng’s eyelid twitched.

Ma’am, that body language is not convincing.

His expression hardened. “Listen. There were too many variables this time. Half the steps can’t be replicated. The Fairy Tale book we used to establish a link. The children who acted as a medium. Squirrel. The ‘path’ left behind by that deep dive team from seventy years ago. Miss any one of those, and everything collapses.

“So it’s not like I walked two people through a wall, did some ‘talk therapy,’ and the dark angel went ‘ah’ and died. If you point me at the next descending angel, the only one going ‘ah’ will be me—and I might not even have time to ‘ah.’”

“We won’t do something that reckless,” Bai Li Qing said, still sounding completely sincere.

Then she took a sip and switched topics, as if nothing had happened. “You said you fused the Fairy Tale otherworld with your Valley?”

“Yeah,” Yu Sheng said. “My Valley expanded again, and not by a little—more than double. Your people stationed there are witnesses, so you’ll get a detailed report soon. But you can also go see it yourself. The scenery after the fusion is honestly pretty good. There are clouds in the sky now. And the Fairy Tale area along the Valley’s edge has day and night cycles, unlike before.

“You can get the wild feel of the Black Forest, or look out over the mountains from the High Tower…” He coughed. “By the way, that tower’s ticket is twenty. I don’t charge it—Princess Rapunzel does.”

Yu Sheng sounded like a shady tour guide selling a package deal. Bai Li Qing’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly, but she recovered quickly.

“So the entire Fairy Tale organization has essentially been ‘absorbed’ by you?” she asked.

“Not really.” Yu Sheng waved both hands. “They’re just living with me. It looks like they’ll be staying long-term, but Fairy Tale is still independent. Sure, they call me Fairy Tale’s biggest guardian now, which makes me happy, but it’s more like an honorary identity…”

As he spoke, his smile spread—warm, genuine, and unguarded.

He looked even happier than he had when Bai Li Qing agreed to transfer the orphanage rebuilding budget into Hotel’s account.

Bai Li Qing smiled too.

And for the first time since the angel fell, she looked like her shoulders had loosened.