Chapter 69

Qin Yu was as dense as a blockhead. Her mind was filled with the sufferings of the common people and boundless compassion. With her soft and gentle appearance, she was clueless about worldly affairs and never imagined that Xun Ruosu could be cunning enough to dig her own pit. And so, Qin Yu obediently nodded and called out, “Mommy.”

Xun Ruosu instantly felt a smug satisfaction at having gotten the better of her. Taking advantage of the fact that her other self couldn’t resist, she viciously kneaded those cheeks.

Xun Ruosu had always thought that she wasn’t very likable as a child—cold and aloof, always burrowing into the study rather than going out to play. Even when she did go out, work would often come knocking, and she’d talk to thin air, scaring her playmates half to death.

Even so, Xun Ruosu’s childhood hadn’t been lonely. There were always a few friends who persisted despite repeated defeats, insisting on “exploring the mysteries of the universe” with her. Even if she was just reading in her room while the others fed the goldfish in the courtyard.

Looking back now, aside from those children being well-raised with angelic temperaments, it had to be her own face… No matter how aloof she was, it made her seem adorably obedient.

Ah, those soft cheeks—even pinching them made her look aggrieved.

The two adults toyed with Qin Yu for quite a while before suddenly remembering the Masked Man was still there. He hadn’t uttered a word throughout, but the gaze emerging from beneath the Prajna Mask was utterly chilling.

From the start, his eyes had been fixed on Xun Ruosu. Qin Yu’s appearance hadn’t shifted his target at all. On the contrary, it seemed his goal was on the verge of success. The uncovered half of his cheek lifted slightly—he was smiling silently.

This realization disgusted Xun Ruosu.

Qin Yu stepped in front of Xun Ruosu. The Masked Man was crouched down, perfectly level with the young girl’s eyes. A moment later, Qin Yu said, “You are laden with grave sins.”

“Everything I’ve done is to erase you,” the Masked Man replied. He was still smiling, his cheek lifting even higher into what could only be described as a grotesque grin.

Everyone around could imagine the expression beneath the mask, but his voice remained hoarse, devoid of any mirth. The human imagination was far too vivid; not seeing the face beneath only made their mental images more horrifying.

The Masked Man continued, “Those innocent people were dragged down by you. Whatever sins I bear, you bear them tenfold.”

This moral kidnapping caught Xun Ruosu off guard—a brazen attempt to pick a fight under the guise of righteousness.

Though their memories up to reincarnation were the same, their personalities had diverged sharply since then. Xun Ruosu had once taken a cardboard box from an express delivery and jammed it over the Masked Man’s head. His already muffled, raspy voice became even more indistinct through the large box—only a buzzing drone and occasional garbled words like “you,” “me,” or “him.” No one could make out the meaning from the fragmented sounds.

Qin Yu silently glanced at her magnified self.

Truly, experiences shape different lives. Xun Ruosu’s speed at dirty tricks was something Qin Yu knew she couldn’t match.

They had delayed too long. The seventh heavenly thunder was gathering power, but in this small room, aside from the condemned, there was also a young girl under the protection of the Heavenly Dao. For a moment, the thunder neither struck nor held back.

Xue Tong sneered. “I thought the heavens were blind, striking at me and Huang Xiaoran’s heads. Now I see their eyes are only where they’re needed. Clearly, Huang Xiaoran and I don’t qualify.”

Whether Huang Xiaoran qualified was debatable, but Xun Ruosu suspected the heavenly thunder had long wanted to smite Xue Tong. This time, beyond punishing the fierce ghost, it carried personal grudges. Ever since the target shifted from Xue Tong, the thunder’s power had visibly intensified.

The black cat let out a soft “meow.” Though just a fluffball, it was an ancient ancestor among furred creatures. It had never seen heavenly thunder on such a grand scale. If it struck the dormitory roof, the entire row of buildings would likely burn to ash.

The heavenly thunder harbored personal vendettas, but rigid fairness was its bottom line. Even if this bolt struck the sin-laden Masked Man instead of Xue Tong, it wouldn’t hold back an ounce of its power.

The black umbrella and the substitute talisman beneath it had been utterly destroyed by the previous thunder. The same trick wouldn’t work twice. Though Xue Tong was “unfilial,” constantly challenging the Heavenly Dao’s limits, the rules could self-correct. It already knew about the substitute talisman, so this strike would be even more precise.

The thunder spanning half the sky had condensed into a single bolt. Whether aimed at Xue Tong or the Masked Man, it promised no loss.

Qin Yu stood by the window. “Xue Tong, you cannot block the ninth heavenly thunder. It will take your life.”

At the same time, the copper coin Xun Ruosu had been holding snapped in two. The sharp edge sliced her fingertip, blood flowing instantly.

Earlier, Xun Ruosu had opened the Zhong Family’s genealogy and performed divination along the central line upward. Everything had been smooth until the topmost name— the coin showed no reaction. Only when Qin Yu spoke did it split, and the blood dripping to the floor formed seven characters: “Clouds in the Blue Sky, Water in the Vase.”

One half of the coin clanged against the concrete floor. The other remained pinched between Xun Ruosu’s fingers, soaked through with blood.

The Masked Man’s smile deepened, his lips nearly spilling from beneath the mask. Silence filled the dormitory save for the black cat’s whimpers. Then he said, “What you owe me… it’s time to pay back, isn’t it?”

The box over his head buzzed with his words, but Xue Tong had no time to dwell. She grabbed the Masked Man by one arm and barked, “You all stay here.” Then she dragged him out to the open space beyond the dormitory.

The two rows of dormitories faced each other across about ten meters, dotted with simple fitness equipment. The lawn was trimmed, though roughly, and low trees were planted here and there.

The rain had lightened a bit, but the wind and thunder raged on. The moment the Masked Man emerged, the heavenly thunder roared. It probed with a strike on the lawn, scorching a hand-sized black patch. Even in the rain, sparks burned for a good while before dying out.

“The thunder will strike you soon,” Xue Tong said, gazing skyward. “Before it falls, it’ll gather power. Once the clouds glow gold and red, switch places with me.”

The matter concerned life and death; Xue Tong needed only say it once.

Sure enough, the horizon churned like molten lava. The clouds cracked open, revealing a golden-red glow. The two, already close, swapped positions in a single misstep. The Masked Man dared not stay near Xue Tong and stumbled, rolling several times across the ground before stopping.

Xun Ruosu stood at the window. She felt that surging pain rush toward her once more—even fiercer than before. But the agony only lasted an instant before tearing away from her body. Xun Ruosu gripped the wall, breathing raggedly.

Though brief, the pain lingered in her nerves, leaving her unable to react further. Once she caught her breath, she cursed under her breath, “Xue Tong!” and snatched an umbrella from the floor before dashing out.

She moved too quickly to notice the umbrella’s color. Only after opening it over Xue Tong’s head did she realize it was the one the young girl had brought, still affixed with a sheet of purple talisman paper.

The seventh heavenly thunder had struck. Large swaths of the lawn lay ruined, the charred sections forming the character “ten.”

Xue Tong’s eyes were closed, her body showing no visible wounds. But the thunder had been overwhelmingly fierce—even for her, it must have been torment. Moreover, she had undone the golden seal on her collarbone.

The spot once branded with the Buddhist Seal was now a scar. Xue Tong’s skin paled slightly. Red lines encircled the seal, forming a totem. Moments later, even those lines vanished completely. Below her collarbone, everything was smooth and unmarred, as if she’d never been bound to Xun Ruosu.

Xun Ruosu didn’t dare touch her. She simply held the umbrella and stood quietly beside her. Blood gradually seeped from Xue Tong’s mouth, dripping to the ground one drop at a time. The Masked Man had already gotten back up and was now sitting behind Xun Ruosu. “Don’t worry,” he said. “She won’t die. If anyone’s dying, it’ll be after all nine thunders.”

“I always felt you schemed for Xue Tong to block the heavenly thunder for you—not just to save your skin, but for other reasons too. But the variables were too great; my calculations weren’t precise enough.” Xun Ruosu didn’t turn around. She kept holding the umbrella, half-crouching in front of Xue Tong, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on her.

“But one thing I hope you don’t misjudge—Xue Tong’s temper is stubborn. She acts decisively and without hesitation. She’s saving you now because of the countless lives beneath the dam. If you’re plotting something, I suggest you don’t fixate on your shady little goals. Think instead about how to survive. Once the ninth thunder falls, whether it’s Xue Tong or I, we’ll exorcise you on the spot.”

Xun Ruosu’s voice was calm, yet it carried the faint rumble of thunderous fury.

She had now recovered her memories. Though still bearing the Xun Family’s frail body and outranked by underworld denizens, her erudition was formidable… The Xun Family’s three study rooms alone had forged her into someone who could thrash malicious ghosts. Right now, her mind housed an ancient museum of knowledge.

The Masked Man actually flinched at this and fell silent.

Xue Tong slept deeply. Visions flashed before her eyes like a galloping panorama. She often felt her life wasn’t long—days, years, centuries slipping by in the blink of an eye. Eating, drinking, and amusing herself in idleness felt comfortable but monotonous, a straight line of repetition. Only in memory did life fragment into pieces.

She saw Xun Ruosu as a “sanctuary” amid the endless span. Every fragment in her memory involved Xun Ruosu—from reincarnation’s myriad versions, even including the Old Teacher.

Then Xue Tong tasted the blood in her mouth. She abruptly recalled the seventh heavenly thunder striking. Sensing something gravely wrong, she hadn’t time to discuss before severing the Buddhist Seal… Though her eyes were closed, she felt Xun Ruosu’s gaze. Helplessly, she continued feigning unconsciousness.

Xue Tong thought guiltily, “I never win arguments with her. If I open my eyes now, I might die of shame.”