Chapter 25 Part 1

A gentle breeze swept past, and Meng Yiran’s cold sweat had yet to dry when she suddenly shivered.

The blue flowers were not rare at all. They bloomed in the shadows beneath the bridge, thriving in the damp spots that never saw sunlight.

A cluster grew right at Ling Ze’s feet. He bent down, plucked a handful, and offered three to Ling Ge.

Ling Ge accepted them in a daze. “Huh? We’re trusting him again?”

“These are blue Illusion flowers. They naturally clear the mind and dispel illusions,” Ling Ze said, lightly furrowing his brow. “The New Edition of Magic Plants you read last year covered them. How far did you get?”

Ling Ge deflated, her eyes darting everywhere but at her brother. “I remember… I just didn’t expect to find devil plants in a dump like this. I didn’t put two and two together right away.”

She swiftly changed the subject, beckoning Meng Yiran over. “Here, you take these.” With her back to Ling Ze, she widened her bright, lively eyes in an effort to save face and gave Meng Yiran strict instructions. “Three flowers total. Chew them up but don’t swallow. Just hold them in your mouth, and you’ll make it through the miasma.”

Meng Yiran looked down at the three delicate blue flowers nestled unevenly in her palm. She raised her hand to her nose and inhaled lightly. The blooms carried no fragrance, only a faint scent of grass and earth.

“Thank you,” she told Ling Ge.

Ling Ge waved her off. “No big deal. They’re all over the place here. You could’ve grabbed some yourself.”

Meng Yiran offered her a friendly smile.

Tong Yuwu stood a short distance away, silent as she intently watched the path ahead. A thin mist cloaked the area, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first glance. A road wide enough for four or five people to walk abreast cut through the center, with dense foliage crowding both sides.

Meng Yiran curled her fingers, tucking the blue flowers into her palm, and approached Tong Yuwu.

In the second before she spoke, Meng Yiran considered asking Tong Yuwu one more time if they still planned to ignore that voice’s warning. After all, the lesson was fresh: those who had chosen the wooden bridge had suffered pointlessly, while the trio on the stone arch bridge emerged unscathed—and had even gotten a good laugh at their expense.

But the words caught in her throat, and what emerged instead was: “Shall we go?”

Tong Yuwu turned to her, surprise flickering in her eyes before she quickly concealed it.

She said nothing, but took the first step forward—without any precautions whatsoever.

A hidden spark of delight bloomed in Meng Yiran’s heart.

She knew Tong Yuwu well, after all. The beautiful noble miss was so frail that she’d spent years in a wheelchair despite having no issues with her legs, yet her will was as unyielding as iron. Once she made up her mind, Meng Yiran had never seen anyone sway her.

Keeping a cat was the one exception, of course.

The noble miss who griped about the shedding but let her scamper freely onto the bed was just too adorable!

Meng Yiran tamped down her private glee, clenched her fist to confirm the flowers were still there, and followed without a second thought.

The miasma antidote clutched in her hand lent her courage. She figured that if things turned sour once they entered the miasma, these three blue Illusion flowers—whether for her or Tong Yuwu—would let a clear-headed person guide the disoriented one to safety.

Ling Ge watched in alarm as Meng Yiran plunged into the miasma without preparation and moved to stop her, only for Ling Ze to hold her back.

Ling Ze’s disguised deep-brown eyes fixed unblinkingly on the mist.

The moment Tong Yuwu stepped in, the thin fog—which had offered decent visibility before—thickened in an instant. From outside, no one could spot the two women anymore, even though the straight-line distance was short. It was as if a heavy barrier had sprung up between them.

Ling Ge whipped around, baffled. “Bro? What gives? She’s…”

Ling Ze’s voice came low and firm. “Leave her be. It’s her choice.”

Ling Ge pouted. “But wh—”

Under her brother’s steady, piercing gaze, she swallowed the rest.

Ling Ze handed her three more blue Illusion flowers while popping the others into his own mouth. “Hold them in. We’re going in too.”

Ling Ge obeyed without protest.

Meanwhile, Ming Yi and the little couple had already gathered their flowers. They set off even before the Ling family siblings, right after Tong Yuwu and Meng Yiran vanished into the haze.

Chewed up, the blue Illusion flowers tasted bitterly astringent—but that very bitterness sharpened the senses, cutting through illusions and keeping the mind alert.

In the eyes of the trio, everything within the miasma looked perfectly normal, identical to the familiar campus scenery they usually saw. Out of caution, they walked more slowly than usual, but their expressions were relaxed, as if they were out on a leisurely outing.

Ming Yi stretched lazily. “This is the first time I’ve run into such a boring illusion. He’s not really planning to escort us all the way out like this, is he?” He chuckled at his own words. “Who knows—maybe he’ll be waiting at the exit to bow and apologize.”

Kelly snorted.

She tilted her head back to gaze at the sky. “What a shame for such a fine magic item to end up in the hands of a total softie.”

Elfa, who had been pressing his lips together tightly, finally spoke up. “That’s just who he is. He’s not the aggressive type.”

Ming Yi suddenly sensed something off. He arched a brow at Elfa and flashed a smile that carried an ambiguous edge. Elfa appeared oblivious to the look and turned to Kelly instead. “Right?”

Kelly crossed her arms over her chest and muttered under her breath. Her voice was too soft for the other two to catch more than a vague “freak” and “softie.”

It took them a little while, but the three finally emerged from the fog into a sudden clearing of the view ahead.

Ming Yi glanced to the side and spat a few petals onto the ground. No sooner had he done so than he spotted the Ling family siblings emerging right behind them.

He curved his lips into a grin. “Not bad. You’ve gotten smarter.”

Ling Ge turned her head sharply to the other side, ignoring him completely. Ling Ze stepped forward and asked directly, “Did you two see them?”

Ming Yi shook his head. “Nope.”

Ling Ze’s brow furrowed.

Kelly tsked. “Looks like those two pretty misses have run into some trouble.”

Glancing back now, they had a clear view of the scene inside the miasma. The path stretched empty before them, with no sign of the girls—and as for the little groves of trees lining both sides…

A breeze swept through, setting the flowers and leaves rustling softly. No one could say what dangers might lurk within.

In fact, Kelly had hit the nail on the head.

At first, Meng Yiran hadn’t sensed anything amiss upon entering the miasma.

The fog was thicker than it had appeared from outside, but she and Tong Yuwu stayed close, one following the other along the path. Meng Yiran could always make out the other girl’s back.

But gradually, her footing grew unsteady, and she began to stumble as she walked.

The sensation was just like being drunk—and the longer they lingered in the miasma, the deeper the drunken haze became. Worse still, like an inebriated person who fails to realize their own impairment and only craves more liquor, Meng Yiran— who ought to have been extra vigilant—remained utterly oblivious to her condition.

She quickened her pace and grabbed Tong Yuwu’s shoulder. Three small blue flowers slipped from her splayed fingers, swiftly carried away by the wind without a trace.

“Why are you walking so fast? Wait for me.”

Tong Yuwu pursed her lips and turned to look at her. A closer inspection would have revealed her purple eyes were somewhat glazed, struggling to focus.

Meng Yiran bent down to take her hand. “Let’s walk together. That way, we won’t get separated!”

She grasped Tong Yuwu’s slender white wrist, sliding her own fingers one by one into the gaps between. Her fingertips glided over the other girl’s sensitive skin; the naive noble miss shivered faintly now and then but remained still, letting her continue.

With Tong Yuwu’s passive cooperation, Meng Yiran soon had their hands clasped tight, fingers interlaced.

Only then did Tong Yuwu react. She tugged experimentally, but Meng Yiran held firm.

Her response was sluggish as she stared at their joined hands. “What… is this?”

Meng Yiran lifted her chin with sudden bravado. “This is me holding your hand!”

A misty haze clouded Tong Yuwu’s purple eyes as well. “Holding my hand… why?”

“This way, you can’t run off, and we can stay together forever.” As she spoke, Meng Yiran nodded vigorously, as if convincing herself.

Tong Yuwu narrowed her eyes.

Unable to follow Meng Yiran’s train of thought, she pressed on. “Why… stay together forever?”

The question finally stumped Meng Yiran.

Her lips parted and closed repeatedly, but no answer came. She fell silent. Then, abruptly, her gaze snagged on a faint glimmer clinging to the edge of Tong Yuwu’s eyelashes. She couldn’t tear her eyes away and leaned in closer—nearly pressing her face right up to it.

Tong Yuwu tilted her head back involuntarily, gazing at her with innocent confusion and blinking guilelessly.

Meng Yiran couldn’t hold back. With an “ah-woo,” she took Tong Yuwu’s curled lashes—along with the faint glimmers of light dancing on them—straight into her mouth.

Tong Yuwu was clearly startled. The soft, warm, and utterly unfamiliar sensation on her eyelids sent a flush racing across her usually pale cheeks, spreading swiftly to her earlobes. But her noble upbringing quickly reminded her that this was hardly proper etiquette. She pressed her hands against Meng Yiran’s shoulders, trying to push her away.

Meng Yiran had only gotten a brief taste, though—why would she let go of the duck that had flown right into her mouth? Far from relenting, she pressed forward even more forcefully.

The result was inevitable. At some point, Tong Yuwu couldn’t hold her ground any longer, and the two of them tumbled together into the nearby grass.

Meng Yiran was fine, scrambling up and immediately helping Tong Yuwu to her feet. Tong Yuwu wasn’t so lucky. Since Meng Yiran had been pinning her down as they fell, she ended up flat on her back, clutching her forehead. Fresh blood seeped through her fingers.

Meng Yiran’s heart pounded. “You’re hurt?!”