Chapter 91 Locking the Wutong Tree (Twenty-Four) She timidly looked at Su Weimou...
"This tree is growing really well, with lush branches and glossy leaves. At this rate, its shade will cover half the yard in less than two years."
"It's all thanks to the princess's good care. She feeds this speechless creature the raw poultry that we usually can't bear to eat. How could it not grow up well?"
"Hey, what a world this is! A tree got to eat meat before people did, and we're not even living as well as it."
"But...isn't this meat too much? I can smell it rotten."
"Keep your voice down, or you'll get yourself slapped."
The afternoon sun pierced through the layers of sycamore leaves, scattering dappled light across the floor under the eaves.
Zhao Luan stood quietly behind the window, and every word of the servant's deliberately hushed yet still clear conversation reached her ears.
There was no trace of anger on her face. She simply raised her nail-painted fingertips and tapped them lightly twice on the window frame, her gaze drifting into the distance towards the towering sycamore tree in the courtyard.
The leaves were glossy green, and the trees were indeed growing very well, their canopies so tall that they almost blocked out half the sunlight in the courtyard.
“Go tell the small kitchen,” she said calmly, her voice devoid of emotion, “to keep the leftover chicken carcasses from today; I’m going to feed them to the trees.”
A faint smile curved her lips. "Since they say it grows well by eating raw poultry, then let it eat its fill."
The maid acknowledged the order and withdrew.
A few quiet sighs rose from the courtyard. The people exchanged knowing glances and continued with their own business.
Ever since the prince consort was bewitched by the courtesan Jiangyan in the brothel, abandoning his wealth and status to elope, the princess's words and actions have often been unpredictable.
No one dared to mention the prince consort in front of her, and the little princess he left behind, whose features were becoming increasingly similar to his, also became an almost invisible presence in the mansion.
Everyone sighed that the little princess was pitiful.
Born without the love of their parents, they were accompanied only by their wet nurses all day long, and looked more like the wet nurses' children.
However, a few days later, Zhao Luan did something that surprised everyone.
Holding a brocade box and smiling, she walked step by step toward the perpetually quiet courtyard on the west side of the mansion.
She pushed open the door, and light flooded in, illuminating the small figure playing alone inside.
The child looked up, staring straight at her with clear, untainted eyes. She timidly looked at her mother, whom she had never met before, and dropped the rattle drum in her hand to the ground.
Zhao Luan dismissed all the wet nurses and servants, and gently closed the door to isolate the inside from the outside.
At first, the servants outside could only hear the silence inside, which made them uneasy. But after a short while, they could faintly hear the little princess's clear laughter coming from inside the room.
The laughter grew louder and more joyful, like pearls rolling onto a jade plate, interspersed with the princess's almost inaudible whispers, so gentle they seemed to drip with water.
The people waiting under the corridor looked at each other, and finally showed relieved smiles.
After all, they are mother and daughter connected by blood. Over time, even the hardest heart can be warmed by the laughter of a child.
It seems the princess has truly changed her mind.
Their anxiety gradually subsided, and thinking that they shouldn't disturb this precious moment of mother-daughter affection, they went about their busy lives.
The courtyard returned to tranquility, with only the rustling of the sycamore leaves in the wind.
About half an hour later.
Thick smoke, carrying a pungent odor, suddenly surged out from the cracks in the windows of the houses, and crimson flames greedily licked the pillars and window frames, instantly turning half the sky red.
The sounds of running, crying, and splashing water mingled together, plunging the entire princess's residence into unprecedented panic and chaos.
The carefully tended sycamore tree still stands quietly in the courtyard, its glossy leaves reflecting an eerie and cold luster under the towering firelight.
-
Amidst the towering flames, Song Qiling quietly opened her eyes. She looked down at the golden lock around her neck, then looked up at Zhao Luan, who was nearly driven mad beside her, her eyes filled with icy coldness.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Why aren't you crying anymore?" The woman's smile was half-smile, her voice filled with undisguised disgust. "Don't look at me like that. Has no one ever told you that your eyes are exactly like your father's?"
"You all disgust me." Thick smoke billowed, choking the woman's nostrils. She shed tears of primal urges, but refused to look at her daughter again.
"It's good to burn it all, burn it clean." She suddenly burst into laughter, but due to inhaling a large amount of thick smoke, she could no longer hold on and collapsed to the ground.
The flames spread and finally reached the edge of Zhao Luan's clothes. Song Qiling's expression changed slightly. Dragging the unruly child's body, she wanted to get closer to her mother, to pull her away and take her away from the crimson flames.
She seemed to have completely forgotten that this was just an illusion, an illusion... filled with Zhao Luan's resentment and hatred.
A chubby, lotus-root-like little hand landed on the woman with a "smack," trying to wake her up.
"Ah, An'an..." The young child opened his mouth, but could only utter a few simple syllables.
Song Qiling looked up and saw a piece of cloth being burned by the flames, rising with the heat, spinning slowly, and finally falling into her arms.
The cloth, shimmering with an unusual luster in the firelight, caught the young child's eye. She opened her hand, then clenched it in her grasp, babbling softly as her small, rosy lips parted, revealing her delightful baby teeth.
The flames burned through Zhao Luan's flesh, emitting an indescribable burnt smell. Suddenly, a painful groan could be heard from deep within her throat, intermittent and eventually fading into silence.
It was in this fiery hell that a figure passed through the charred doorway, stepping on raging flames, and headed towards Zhao Luan.
Song Qiling opened her eyes wide and looked at the uninvited guest, a chill running down her spine.
"Such a powerful resentment." The man in white stood beside Zhao Luan as if strolling leisurely, stepping on tongues of fire. "A dignified princess, dying in such an undignified manner?"
He gently raised his hand, and a powerful wave of energy, as if solidified, poured into Zhao Luan's body. Wherever it passed, the scorched skin grew rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye, becoming smooth and delicate in just a few breaths, as if reborn.
At the same time, a complex spell mark shimmering with purple light flashed across her body.
It was actually a demonic mark.
Song Qiling made two "ah ah" sounds, trying to get his attention.
Sure enough, the faint noise made the man grunt in confusion. He seemed to have just noticed that there was a baby in the room, and his face went blank for a moment.
After a long silence, he squatted down, his eyebrows level with the doll's, his gaze sweeping over the swaying gold lock around her neck, and he read out, word by word, "Song, Qi, Ling?"
Song Qiling slowly opened her eyes wide.
Amused by her reaction, the man reached out and patted her fluffy head. "You're really tough. You didn't die from this. I guess we're destined to be together."
After a brief pause, he made his decision: "Come back to the Heavenly Mystery Sect with me, and I will bestow upon you a golden seal to protect you from evil spirits. How about it? If you are willing, then say 'Ah' again."
The little boy's half-open lips suddenly pursed, and then he reluctantly let out an "ah".
As soon as he finished speaking, the man burst into loud laughter: "How amusing! Your mother is destined to become a great demon, my dear disciple Qiling. Are you really sure you want to become my disciple and a demon hunter?"
Young Song Qiling naturally didn't respond to him, but stared blankly at the familiar face in front of her, feeling a chill in her heart.
Something seems off.
Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her brain, and flashes of white light appeared before her eyes. She frowned slightly, and her fleshy knuckles, resting on her thighs, tightened abruptly.
The nails dug into the skin and flesh, trying to awaken one's consciousness with physical pain.
Meanwhile, in the dark and quiet bedroom.
Prince Zhao Yu of Nancheng lay sprawled on the cold ground, unconscious. On the large canopy bed, Song Qiling's eyes were tightly closed, her brows furrowed in unease. Three inches from her brow, a cone-shaped piercing, like an icicle, was gradually taking shape, suspended in mid-air.
-
"Have you lost your way, guest? This is where the Prince rests. Unauthorized personnel are not allowed to trespass." A sword-wielding attendant dressed in black leaped down from the roof, his movements as sharp as a hawk, and stood firmly in front of the newcomer.
Gu Lianzhou saw the scene in the bedroom through the dodder and was extremely anxious. He was no longer rational. He put his hands together, said "Excuse me" and when he looked up again, a thick black color rolled across his pupils.
In an instant, countless dodder vines spread out from beneath his feet, rapidly extending in all directions like living things, so fast that only afterimages remained.
The servants had never seen such a bizarre sight before, and cries of alarm and the sound of swords being drawn immediately echoed throughout the courtyard.
The dodder, under its master's command, only entangled the ankles of a few people, knocking them to the ground, and then cleared a path for them to walk on.
Gu Lianzhou pushed open the door and entered. As soon as he stood still, he felt a strong demonic aura emanating from the depths of the bedroom.
Is it because of the demon core that it's working?
The thought had barely formed in his mind when his gaze was fixed on the carved canopy bed in the inner room. He strode forward, abruptly lifted the heavy gauze curtains, and peered inside.
The spike, gleaming with a chilling light, remained suspended, seemingly gathering strength, and was aimed directly at Song Qiling on the bed.
"Senior brother!" Gu Lianzhou's heart tightened, and without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the strangely shaped cone.
A bone-chilling cold instantly surged into his meridians through his palm. The thorn seemed to be alive, resisting him relentlessly and pressing down. Gu Lianzhou's knuckles turned white, and he gritted his teeth, holding on tightly.
At the same time, Song Qiling seemed to be in great pain in her dream, with cold sweat beading on her forehead, her brows furrowed, and her eyes trembling violently under her thin eyelids, as if she were struggling in a nightmare.
Gu Lianzhou gritted his teeth and summoned the dodder vine. Countless vines climbed up the spike-like thorns, and the tendril-like branches trembled excitedly, as if they had found their prey. They moved quickly and greedily to wrap the dense demonic energy in the air around the vines, slowly tightening them without leaving a single gap.
This time, Gu Lianzhou was still conscious. After sensing the abnormality of the dodder, he did not choose to stop it. Instead, he tightened his knuckles and secretly exerted force when the force of the thorn weakened.
With a "crack," the spike was crushed by his bare hands, turning into specks of pale blue light that dissipated into the air.
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