Chapter 285: Adapting to Darkness
This novel is translated and hosted on BCatranslation
Nan Mu Bai had seen Lu Chao Chao before.
A dull-witted girl, vacant-eyed and foolish in demeanor, she appeared to lack any cunning or intelligence.
The blood of Southern Kingdom women was closer to the divine, which was why the royal daughters were never wed outside the kingdom—their existence was deemed far too precious.
His sister was the most gifted woman the Southern Kingdom had seen in a hundred years.
Their mother had protected her fiercely, so much so that even he had little opportunity to interact with her.
“Yes, that girl’s name is Lu Chao Chao. She is approaching three years of age.”
“The Emperor of Northern Zhao places great value on her, bringing her to every sacrificial ceremony.”
“She looks like a simpleton. How could she compare to our Southern Princess?” a eunuch behind him laughed, agreeing eagerly.
Nan Mu Bai’s face darkened instantly.
With a loud thud, the eunuch dropped to his knees in terror.
“Take him away,” Nan Mu Bai said coldly.
Without hesitation, his attendants gagged the eunuch and dragged him off.
Outside the courtyard, the Nine-Headed Snake snapped its jaws shut with a sickening crunch.
Immediately, a new eunuch stepped forward to take the previous one’s place.
“How could my sister be compared to a mere mortal girl like Lu Chao Chao? An insult to my sister!” Nan Mu Bai sneered.
Behind him, a man’s expression grew somber.
“All it took was a single flattery, and you had him fed to the Nine-Headed Snake. Do you not think that was excessively cruel?” The man was dignified in bearing, exuding an air of righteousness.
He was a close minister personally appointed by the aging Emperor to accompany Nan Mu Bai on his mission to find the lost princess.
“My sister is the most talented summoner of the divine in the Southern Kingdom. The entire nation’s hope rests upon her. That eunuch insulted the princess—his death was deserved. Minister Ming, if you have so much time to waste on pity, perhaps you should focus on summoning the deities instead.”
“The Ming family has not successfully summoned the God of Life, Xian Ting, in over a decade. Worry about yourselves first.” Nan Mu Bai smirked, eyes filled with ridicule.
The Ming family, who once served as the venerated priests of the God of Life, had gone ten years without a divine miracle.
“The affairs of the Ming family do not require Your Highness’s concern. Finding the princess quickly and returning to the capital should be our priority, lest His Majesty remain anxious,” Ming Lang replied calmly. His purpose in this journey was clear: to protect the lost princess at all costs.
The Nan Feng Yu faction was growing ever stronger, and the Emperor feared for the safety of his estranged granddaughter. This was why he had spent years secretly searching for her.
“And what good will it do to retrieve a girl of mortal blood?”
“It is merely to put my royal grandfather’s heart at ease.” Nan Mu Bai chuckled, disdain written in his features.
“She possesses no divine power, cannot summon the gods, and is of no use to the Southern Kingdom.”
“Your Highness should be more cautious. Last time, the High God Zong Bai appeared in Northern Zhao but did not heed the royal summons. Something must have gone amiss. Tomorrow, if you bring Xiangliu into the palace, take care not to terrify the Emperor of Northern Zhao. That nation has grown strong in recent years—it is a slumbering dragon. Even His Majesty does not wish to make an enemy of them.” Ming Lang did not wish to argue further and turned to leave.
Nan Mu Bai rolled his eyes.
Northern Zhao? A slumbering dragon?
The Southern Kingdom had always been the mightiest. Northern Zhao was once nothing more than a swamp.
A land of barbarians and mere mortals, hardly worth his attention.
As he passed through the courtyard, the air reeked of thick blood. Ming Lang glanced at the Nine-Headed Snake coiled within the grounds, displeasure flickering in his gaze.
The ferocious beast, Xiangliu, fed on human flesh. Countless times, Ming Lang had petitioned the Emperor to have it sealed away.
Yet the Grand Princess, Nan Feng Yu, had refused. The aging Emperor, too weak to resist his daughter’s growing power, could only yield.
Sensing hostility, Xiangliu lifted one of its heads in arrogance.
Fresh blood dripped from its fangs, exuding an eerie, terrifying aura.
Ming Lang, a devout follower of the God of Life, who represented vitality and hope, despised such creatures.
Suppressing his unease, he turned away and left.
Returning to his chamber, he sat cross-legged upon the bed, lost in thought.
“High God… why do you not heed our summons?”
“Has something happened to you?”
Ming Lang’s lips pressed into a thin line. Over the years, the Ming family’s ability to summon Xian Ting had grown weaker, and the divine power granted to their attendants had dwindled.
The Ming family was faltering.
They could only watch helplessly as their once-great clan fell into decline, leaving them all desperate.
He sat beneath the moonlight filtering through his window.
His hands moved rapidly, forming ancient seals in the air.
His loose strands of hair fluttered as his body glowed faintly.
“Your devoted follower, Ming Lang, humbly requests the descent of the High God Xian Ting.”
“Your devoted follower, Ming Lang, humbly requests the descent of the High God Xian Ting.”
“Your devoted follower, Ming Lang, humbly requests the descent of the High God Xian Ting.”
Three calls. No answer.
The light in Ming Lang’s eyes slowly dimmed.
Late at night.
The Duke of the Protectorate sat beside his grandson’s bed. “Si Qi, how are your eyes?”
The head of the Imperial Medical Bureau gently shook his head. “There is a rare affliction that causes blindness at night, but it can be alleviated by lighting a lamp.”
“But we cannot determine the cause of Young Master Li’s condition.”
He had searched through countless ancient texts yet found no record of such an ailment.
Li Si Qi lay with his eyes covered in a layer of white gauze. “Grandfather, there is no need to worry. I have long grown accustomed to this.”
The Duke of the Protectorate gazed at his grandson with sorrow.
Li Si Qi was the eldest grandson of the Protectorate Duke’s household, a steady and exceptional young man.
Unfortunately, he suffered from a strange affliction.
After the physician left, the Old Madam wept for her grandson.
“How will you manage in the future, child? Will you… will you go completely blind?”
She did not dare speak the words aloud, for the mere thought made her tremble.
Thus far, he had only lost his sight at night. But the last time he fainted, he was blind for three days—day and night alike.
“Don’t speak nonsense. The Sixth Prince was raised in the National Temple after clashing with His Majesty as a child. Yet he eventually regained his sight.” The Duke of the Protectorate shook his head, while his eldest daughter-in-law wept bitterly.
“Mother, he will be fine. My son is blessed and will recover.” Li Si Qi smiled.
“Yes! My son has a kind heart. He wouldn’t even harm a single blade of grass. Heaven would not be so cruel to him.” His mother wiped her tears.
Li Si Qi had always cherished all living things. To him, every tree, every flower was precious.
Even a blade of grass.
“Mother, I’m tired. I’d like to rest now,” he said, pulling her arm gently.
Reluctantly, his family left the room.
Once alone, Li Si Qi stood and walked toward his desk.
“Young Master, do you need tea? I will fetch it for you…” The servant started forward, but Li Si Qi raised a hand to stop him.
“After so many years, I should learn to live without my sight.”
He had a foreboding feeling.
His vision would eventually fade completely.
Lately, he had noticed his sight growing dimmer, objects becoming less clear.
“Young Master…” The servant nearly burst into tears.
“Do not tell my parents or grandparents. It will only cause them worry.”
The servant could only nod tearfully.
Li Si Qi moved around the room, then stepped into the courtyard.
“Guard the entrance. Do not let my grandparents approach.”
He walked through the courtyard, memorizing every brick, every stone, every blade of grass.
He spread his arms, slowly moving forward in the dark.
The maids and servants lowered their heads, silent.
Beyond the gate, the Duke of the Protectorate stood with reddened eyes, fists clenched.
The iron-willed old general shed silent tears.
That night, as Li Si Qi lay in bed, a whisper brushed against his dreams—
“Please… Xian Ting…”
The voice was faint, like an illusion.