The Underground Palace remained as profoundly dark and shadowy as ever, like a massive beast sprawled in wait, opening its eyes only when its master approached and revealing pupils as thin as crescent moons.
It was the same staircase, the same Lampbearers, and the same room holding the enormous Crystal Coffin. This time, however, the Noble Miss paused at the doorway for only two seconds. She glanced at the woman in the coffin from a distance before pressing onward into the more suffocating darkness.
The deeper she ventured, the dimmer the light became. Scattered rubble littered the floor everywhere, most of the wall lamps on either side lay broken, and heaps of collapsed architecture encroached on more than half the passageway. Those piles had gouged hideous cracks into the walls, from which faint rustling sounds occasionally emanated—lowly creatures that avoided the light, skulking about in the shadows.
In such an environment, an ordinary person wouldn’t merely panic; they could never hope to remain composed.
But Tong Yuwu walked with perfect steadiness.
Her plain skirt hem brushed the ground, light as if it weighed nothing at all. The kerosene lamp she carried in her hand showed not the slightest sway.
She descended steadily, weaving through shattered walls and debris, treading over the ruins until she reached a small clearing where she could stand.
She set the kerosene lamp down on the ground. In its flickering yellow glow, a shattered skeleton came into stark view in the corner.
Judging from the bones, the skeleton had belonged to a tall man in life. The expansive mage robe embroidered with intricate patterns draped over it proclaimed that its former owner had likely been a mage of considerable power.
Yet a being of such prestige had been abandoned after death in the deepest recesses of the Underground Palace, denied even a proper burial.
Tong Yuwu’s lips twitched downward in a faint grimace, a rare trace of disgust crossing her perpetually impassive face. Her gaze settled on the robes adorning the skeleton. With a wave of her hand, a black iron badge the size of a baby’s fist and a small golden brooch flew out from beneath the fabric, hovering before her.
The golden brooch was long and bar-shaped, its design resembling a string of characters, while the black iron badge was thick and understated, engraved with a relief of sun and moon. Tong Yuwu gave them a cursory glance without touching them, then stored the items directly into the void.
Her objective complete, she turned to leave. But in the instant before taking a step, something unusual caught the corner of her eye.
She halted and narrowed her eyes, looking back at the skeleton. There, along the side of its ribcage, sprouted a few tiny plants glowing an eerie blue.
Tong Yuwu frowned. In the next moment, the entire skeleton was flung aside. With it out of the way, a teal fruit about the size of a peach appeared before her. Its color was perfectly even, stunningly beautiful like a flawless piece of emperor-green jade—the only imperfection a finger-width mark on the skin, slightly paler than the rest, resembling a recently healed scar.
An invisible force lifted the fruit, and a second later, it rested in Tong Yuwu’s palm.
A cold smile curved Tong Yuwu’s lips as she regarded the fruit with utter contempt, the way a victor might eye a long-defeated rival, unwilling to grant even a shred more respect.
She raised her hand as if to smash the fruit against the ground at her feet but hesitated at the last instant and held back.
Tilting her head in brief contemplation, the beautiful Noble Miss lowered her arm, picked up the kerosene lamp from the floor, and retraced her path out of the ruins. The pitiful fruit remained clutched in her palm, tossed idly up and down at whim, forever on the verge of slipping free and splattering across the ground.
Fortunately, it made the journey intact, following Tong Yuwu back to the room with the Crystal Coffin.
The room looked just as she remembered it. The altar, etched with blood channels, lay parched and cracked, its bony fingers outstretched toward the Crystal Coffin at the center. A woman lay still inside the coffin, her eyes closed and her face serene, marred only by a scar that stretched from her left temple across to the right corner of her jaw.
If one overlooked the woman’s chest—utterly flat and motionless—its lifelike appearance might fool an observer into thinking it was simply lost in some blissful dream.
“Mother.” Tong Yuwu called out.
She approached the Crystal Coffin but did not lift the lid. Instead, she spoke to the female corpse through the hazy crystal barrier. “Guess what I found.” She raised the teal fruit in her hand, a faint smile flickering in her eyes. “See? It’s still in one piece. I didn’t crush it.
“You really shouldn’t have gotten so angry back then.”
The room hung empty and silent, offering no reply.
Tong Yuwu didn’t mind. She continued her one-sided conversation. “I’m going to leave the Castle for a while. You were right about one thing—I’m utterly useless. But… I won’t keep disappointing you. I’ll go to the school you once attended and learn to wield magic there. Maybe by the time we meet again, I’ll be able to truly revive you.”
Her free hand reached up to the Crystal Coffin, her fingertip tracing the female corpse’s outline along the wall. “You’re looking forward to it too, aren’t you? Getting to return to my side once more.”
Deep underground, a faint wind whistled through. The flame in the kerosene lamp flickered abruptly several times, casting the room into even deeper darkness. The fruit resting quietly in Tong Yuwu’s palm emitted a soft green glow, becoming the brightest presence there.
Tong Yuwu snapped back to her senses. She glanced at it, then slowly rose to her feet.
She casually set the fruit down on the lid of the crystal coffin. To her surprise, it hovered right over the corpse’s chest, as if cradled in the woman’s arms. Tong Yuwu frowned in dissatisfaction, stepped forward, and deliberately shifted the fruit to rest at the female corpse’s feet.
“For now, let it keep you company.” She retreated two steps and admired her handiwork with satisfaction. “If this makes you even a little happier.”
She gazed at the female corpse and stretched out her arms to embrace the crystal coffin, hugging her mother across the divide. Resting her head against the spot over the heart, Tong Yuwu curved her lips into a faint smile.
“I hope by then you’ve given up that foolish idea.
“Mother’s child can only be me.”
The distant embrace lasted a full minute and more before Tong Yuwu finally let go.
“I should get going.” She waved farewell to the female corpse and picked up the kerosene lamp from the floor. “Otherwise, my cat might wake up.
“I remember telling you about it. It has a bad temper and is terribly clingy. If it wakes up and doesn’t see me, it’ll meow all day long. It’s not that I mind the noise—well, you know how it is. Pets should act like pets, and I’m training it right now. That way, when you see it later, you might not find it so annoying.”
Realizing she had said too much, Tong Yuwu covered her mouth in mild distress.
She lifted the hem of her skirt and curtsied to the crystal coffin. Without further delay, she turned and headed for the exit. At the doorway, though, she couldn’t resist pausing. Gripping the frame, she looked back. “It really is adorable. If you could, I hope you’d accept it.”
The female corpse’s face lay obscured behind the hazy crystal barrier, its features blurred and indistinct.
Yet Tong Yuwu felt inexplicably cheerful, her footsteps light and quick as she departed.
