Lu Xiaoxiao’s body grew limp. She forced her calves to tense, holding her ground as she stared at Lu Lingling in front of her. She bit her lip hard, her eyes turning red-rimmed.
“If it were Si Ming, what would he do?” Lu Xiaoxiao asked, her voice trembling.
“Si Ming? He could save those hundred-plus people and take out the Priest at the same time. Your question is pointless—Si Ming has already touched the divine realm. When power reaches its peak, every choice he makes embodies absolute correctness and justice.”
“Discussing justice and morality with him is meaningless. But you are the Adjudicator. All you need to do is your job. As I said, as my daughter, I found your choice endearing. That’s why I applied for an Alliance medal on your behalf, along with a special commendation ceremony. Yet you chose to run away from home and haven’t come back for days.”
“You’re clearly just…”
That so-called commendation ceremony was nothing more than putting her on the spot. All her teammates had grumbled about her decision that day, but she was powerless to change it. As for the praise, it felt more like condescending mockery.
“If you truly didn’t care, you should have gone that day,” Lu Lingling said softly.
“Why refuse the commendation? Why reject the medal? Do you think I pulled strings to give you an undeserved honor, and you’re ashamed of it? No… it’s your pride acting up. You’re starting to waver, to doubt the righteousness of your choice. That reward was yours by right, yet you feel shame over it. You imagine they’ll mock you with contempt when you accept it.”
“Everyone has their own sense of justice in their heart, but it comes with a price. Your choice didn’t bring you any bad outcomes, because I paid the price of justice for you. You’re my daughter—that’s the privilege you deserve, the authority I’ve granted you. But you don’t understand my love for you.”
Lu Lingling’s eyes gradually softened. “That’s okay. You’re still young, with plenty of room to make mistakes. So, when the day comes that you can stand before me and tell me earnestly what justice means to you—when that answer leaves you free of doubt, hesitation, or shame—then I’ll seriously consider letting you return to the Alliance.”
Lu Xiaoxiao stood before Lu Lingling, her proud head slowly bowing.
She bit her lip tightly, her eyes glistening red. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. It always ended like this—she could never find an angle to argue back. Lu Lingling’s tone wasn’t condescending lecturing; it was gentle reasoning. She didn’t know how to refute that logic, but she didn’t want things to be this way.
Lu Lingling let out a soft sigh. Just as she was about to say more, the room door creaked open quietly. Lin Cheng poked his head in.
“Having a debate? Mind if I join?”
Lin Cheng’s timing couldn’t have been worse.
Lu Lingling crossed her legs under her skirt, her pale toes swaying lightly. She hugged her chest and shot him a glare, but Lin Cheng had thick skin. He walked right over to her side, plopping naturally into a chair opposite her as if this were his own home and she the guest.
“Did you hear everything I said just now?” Lu Lingling asked flatly.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Does Little Cheng have any brilliant insights?” Lu Lingling tilted her head.
…Huh? Acting cute now?
“I just think Xiaoxiao’s choice was pretty cool. What Aunt Lu said earlier was actually pretty gentle, but there’s one thing that’s off. The value of life isn’t measured in numbers. You deliberately muddied the cause and effect.”
A hint of helplessness flickered in Lu Lingling’s eyes.
“It’s meaningless to measure lives by numbers. Suppose ten thousand people gang up to beat one person, each intending to kill him with a single punch. After they’re done, that one person dies. Should all ten thousand pay with their lives?”
“That’s shifting the goalposts. Sophistry is pointless.”
“It’s just to illustrate a point. Justice isn’t about protecting the majority’s interests. It should be judged by reason and conscience, not numbers or power. Justice should be fair and equal, unchanging regardless of how many people are involved. The Alliance exists to protect us ordinary folks—dammit! The ones who pay taxes! Failing to save lives on the scene is the Alliance’s failure. Not capturing the Priest afterward? That’s the Alliance’s failure too. Xiaoxiao made the best—and only—choice by saving those people. What happened next was because the Alliance botched the plan and failed to nab that Priest, leading to the casualties. No one wanted that… but it has nothing to do with her. It’s the Alliance’s screw-up. You lot are just warming seats without lifting a finger—a bunch of S-Rank and SS-Rank bigshots who can’t even catch an S-Rank. Spouting high-and-mighty nonsense. If you’re not up to the task, admit it. Don’t dump it all on my Xiaoxiao.”
Lu Lingling took a deep breath, about to respond, when Lin Cheng added another line moments later.
“If the Alliance’s idea of justice means sacrificing the happiness of people who need saving right now to prevent some hypothetical future disaster… then what’s the point of the Alliance for us ordinary folks full of hope?”
Lu Lingling’s body trembled faintly.
Lu Xiaoxiao had kept her head down the whole time, missing Lu Lingling’s expression, but she caught the chill in Lin Cheng’s voice—coldness that seeped into the bones. She couldn’t help looking up at his eyes, but his face was gentle now. She wondered if she’d imagined it.
In doing so, she missed the flicker of panic in Lu Lingling’s eyes.
Lu Xiaoxiao bit her lip, her eyes shining brightly. Lu Lingling’s earlier words had echoed endlessly in her mind, leaving her without a rebuttal. But now, from Lin Cheng’s words, things were starting to clarify… Still, what did it matter? Mom wouldn’t listen. She was the one in power, weighing the greater good…
“You’re right.”
Lu Lingling’s voice suddenly reached Lu Xiaoxiao’s ears. Stunned, Lu Xiaoxiao looked up. Lu Lingling rose to her feet with a soft sigh. “It really is the Alliance’s failure. It has nothing to do with Xiaoxiao.”
Lu Xiaoxiao didn’t understand.
But Lu Lingling had already turned and walked back into her room. Her slender, pale legs flashed beneath her skirt hem. Lin Cheng sneaked an extra glance. A minute or two later, she emerged, now clad in a black combat uniform.
This was the Alliance Adjudicator’s battle gear, which Lu Lingling clearly hadn’t worn in years. The form-fitting outfit hugged her figure, exposing only her slender neck and face. Even her dark hair was pinned up. She looked at Lin Cheng and Lu Xiaoxiao, a trace of helplessness in her eyes.
“I don’t think Xiaoxiao’s choice was absolutely wrong. Everyone has their own view of justice. I just want her to be more resolute, less lost… Little Cheng, you misunderstood me.”
“Oh.” Lin Cheng nodded vigorously, as if pounding garlic.
Lu Lingling snapped her fingers. A twisting Space Vortex materialized before them. Lu Xiaoxiao stared blankly. “Mom, where are you—”
“Going to capture the Priest.” Lu Lingling’s reply was curt and to the point, no further explanation. She stepped straight into the Space Vortex and vanished from the living room. It closed behind her.
As A City Alliance’s Vice Leader, her ability was SS-rank Space and Elements—the source of most of the Alliance’s spatial storage devices. But as a decision-maker, she hadn’t set foot on the battlefield in ages.
Lu Xiaoxiao stared at the empty air for a long moment before turning to Lin Cheng. “What kind of spell did you cast on my mom?”
“None.” Lin Cheng shook his head. “You can tell from her words—she doesn’t think you did wrong. She just doesn’t want you to feel lost over it.”
“Maybe she felt bad seeing you cry?”
Lin Cheng stood and walked over to Lu Xiaoxiao’s side. He reached out and gently pinched her cheek. “Like I said before, sticking to your own sense of right makes you lonelier and lonelier. If you’re not afraid of that, it’s super cool.”
“But crying? Not cool at all.” Lin Cheng used his thumb to gently wipe away her tears. Her cheeks were still burning hot, flushed an unnatural red—probably from the alcohol. She hadn’t even noticed.
“Forget the two thousand. Seeing the proud little princess shed a tear was worth the price of admission.” Lin Cheng pulled back his hand and turned toward the front door. Lu Xiaoxiao watched him go.
“Where are you headed?”
“Home. Weather report just warned of thunderstorms. Better head out before the rain hits.”
Lin Cheng receded into the distance in her vision. Suddenly, an inexplicable emptiness welled up in her chest, like plunging into deep water and suffocating. Almost on instinct, she called after his back, “You… stop.”
Lin Cheng turned, giving her a weird look. “I don’t do sleepovers.”
Lu Xiaoxiao stared straight at his face, arms crossed. “Haven’t you slept over with enough rich ladies?”
“Sigh, I told you—I’m just keeping them company in their loneliness. No sleeping over.”
“I didn’t say anything about sleeping over.” Lu Xiaoxiao fixed him with her gaze. “You’re staying here tonight. Don’t go anywhere.”
“No way,” Lin Cheng huffed.
“I’m afraid of thunder.” Lu Xiaoxiao bit her lip lightly.
“Wait, you’re keeping up this cute bit?” Lin Cheng scratched his head.
“I’m going to shower. Wait in the living room.” With that, Lu Xiaoxiao turned and headed to her room, not giving him a chance to reply. She came out hugging a nightgown and went to the bathroom. Lin Cheng leaned helplessly against the balcony railing, watching the wind and rain lash outside.
…Shivering.
…Women are terrifying.
…Should I make a run for it?
