Chapter 121 The Hunchbacked Shadow (8)
Zhao immediately answered before she could, "That's right, it's a disease that makes your whole body rot, similar to diabetes, right? Anyway, it doesn't matter."
How could that be? They're completely different.
Shu Ningmiao began, "Pandora..."
"Haha."
Shu Ningmiao stared intently at him: "Teacher Yelü..."
Zhao interrupted her again: "Hahaha."
Xiao Jiang impatiently lashed out, the sharp wind whipping his face, and he finally quieted down.
Shu Ningmiao stood two feet away, staring at him coldly. Her dark red eyes narrowed, like swords that could pierce through anything, pointing directly at his figure and revealing their menacing edges.
Zhao raised his hand and touched the tip of his nose.
Xiao Jiang stood up and surprisingly didn't press the matter further, gently putting the question aside: "Then I'll go ask the nuns. There's a shelter nearby; perhaps there's some connection."
She patted the girl on the shoulder and gave her a bright smile: "Want to come along?"
Shu Ningmiao glanced at Zhao one last time, and after a moment, the invisible tension between them dissipated.
She responded to Xiao Jiang's words in a normal tone, then nudged Shu Changyan's arm and gestured to him not to follow.
After they went up, Zhao spoke, as if talking to Shu Changyan, or as if talking to herself: "My little sister is still cute when she's a little silly."
He looked at Shu Changyan as if seeking validation, and unsurprisingly saw the man's terrifying expression: "...I won't say anything more, okay? You shouldn't say anything either."
"I won't say." Shu Changyan leaned against the side with his arms crossed, glancing sideways at her disappearing figure. "She'll figure it out herself."
This person showed no concern for his colleague, only blind trust and indulgence towards his younger sister.
The most troublesome thing is that he has now also sensed Shu Ningmiao's keen perception.
Are these brother and sister monsters?
"What a hassle." Zhao grabbed his hair and lifted it slightly. The tiny mission assistant hanging by his ear flashed and emitted a repetitive notification: "If it weren't for some idiot insisting on coming, I wouldn't have been assigned to this kind of mission."
The quest assistant was still urging him: "Please dispose of the quest corpse as soon as possible."
At the same time that Xiao Jiang's mission ended, he received a new mission, which was the real reason he came along.
Kovina decided to let him dispose of the body that Xiao Jiang had secretly hidden—the sword marks similar to Shu Changyan's were too easy for others to exploit. The director of the National Security Bureau had been supporting the Whig Party candidate, and the National Security Bureau had been sealing off the area for so many days, also looking for more lethal evidence to bring down the candidate.
He wanted to erase all traces of the Manla disease and even the killer before the Whig conservatives could use this as an opportunity to attack the military, fabricate a non-existent Intori assassin, package the incident as an external terrorist attack, and incidentally campaign for the pro-war candidate.
The prerequisite for successfully completing these tasks is to keep Xiao Jiang in the dark, since he's a complete idiot.
Shu Changyan's unspoken meaning was that although he wouldn't directly expose him, he also didn't intend to interfere with what Shu Ningmiao did—his monstrous sister would definitely find out, which was no different from indulging her.
"In short, don't get involved."
Shu Changyan's gentle tone sent a chill down his spine: "I'll listen to her."
“Blind obedience is a virtue only among slaves, brother.” Zhao tried to pat him on the shoulder, but Shu Changyan ruthlessly avoided it.
He looked serious and sighed heavily: "Before I came here, I contacted the Self-Defense Forces. Any bodies found will be burned immediately. The National Security Bureau hasn't gotten any concrete leads yet. All we need to do now is stage a murder scene, right?"
Even the National Security Bureau probably wouldn't have imagined that this loosely organized self-defense group of residents in Xindi was born under the interference of the Pinheit military.
He ran his fingers over the corpse's peaceful face, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips.
Beneath his neatly trimmed, smooth fingertips, the corpse's pale skin began to slowly tear along the marks he had made, leaving a line of blood.
"—Let it disintegrate."
He lowered his hand, and the corpse, now imbued with new properties, emitted a faint cracking sound, gradually splitting open from where he had touched it, oozing black pus. The bones and flesh instantly dissolved into liquid, seeping out of the cardboard box.
In a short while, apart from the remaining black liquid, there was nothing on the ground.
Zhao lifted her foot to avoid the viscous black liquid, put her hands behind her back, and smiled politely and elegantly: "Rest in peace, though I don't know who you are."
Shu Changyan's tall, slightly bent figure moved slightly, his face showing some mottled yet translucent shadows, beneath which were bright, azure pupils, eyes that seemed to see right through people's hearts.
Shu Ningmiao suddenly turned her head and looked in a certain direction.
Xiao Jiang, who was sitting next to him, was squatting on the ground attentively listening to the clues that each child offered.
The chattering sounds filled the air. One child said she often saw the teacher go to the shelter and bring them food when she came back. Another child took out a vegetarian pancake that the teacher had given her not long ago. It was a small piece of pancake that had been broken off and was so dry that the child couldn't bear to finish it.
This vegetarian bread came from the Holy Communion of the Church of the Reverend, and was probably received from the asylum.
The person who died was a former member of Prometheus. After arriving at the orphanage, he was just an ordinary childcare teacher who was patient and sincere with the children. He used all his remaining savings to buy the children what they wanted.
Most of the things the children could offer were useless and nonsensical trivia, but Xiao Jiang listened attentively without showing any impatience.
Sensing the change in her gaze, Xiao Jiang pulled away to look at her: "What's wrong?"
"...It's nothing." Shu Ningmiao heard footsteps approaching from behind and subconsciously squinted her eyes.
Just then, a child suddenly rushed out, grabbed Xiao Jiang's clothes, looked up at her, his dark and thin face covered in dust: "Sister Xiao Jiang, you will find the murderer, right?"
His eyes welled up with tears, and he pressed his lips tightly together to keep them from falling.
Although the children didn't see the body, they could vaguely guess that the uncle, who was so good-natured that he would never speak harshly to them, would never come back.
Even more tragically, children facing death for the first time, stepping out of the protected orphanage, must confront a chaotic world that can take lives far more easily.
The woman clenched her fist and gently pounded her chest, assuring him with unwavering certainty, "Don't worry, I will definitely find the murderer who killed your teacher, and this will never happen again."
The almost imperceptible footsteps stopped behind them. Showa Shu Changyan walked out of the cellar. Backlighting enveloped him from behind, blurring his figure and leaving only an invisible sense of oppression.
The children don't know who is who, but they stick to each other by instinct. They know who they can get close to and who they can't, and then they scatter like birds and beasts.
Zhao, holding a parasol, smiled slightly at Shu Ningmiao, who turned to look at him, and said in a natural and casual tone, "Look, this guy is making irresponsible promises again."
Xiao Jiang turned around, feeling utterly humiliated: "You even brought an umbrella with you?"
“There are ultraviolet rays even where there is no sun.” Zhao raised her hand to cover her face, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and the last trace of composure disappeared: “I need to be kinder to myself.”
"I'll smash your face right now, then you won't have to be so nice to yourself."
Just as the two were about to start arguing again, Erice ran out, followed by a woman in white, who looked to be in her thirties or forties. She had a peaceful expression, her hair was neatly styled, and there were some fine lines around her eyes. Her spotless white silk robe hung gently on the ground.
She is the nun in charge of this orphanage.
When Shu Ningmiao first met her, she felt that she must be from the Church of Praise. For no particular reason, it was just because of this unique and indescribable temperament that only she could feel. She was very similar to the long-time church member, Lady Grana, and even had a subtle resemblance to Shi Yu's perfect mask.
The woman's voice was kind, and everyone else in the courtyard unconsciously lowered their voices as well: "I am the nun, you can just call me Yin. I am the mother of all the children here."
“Mom,” Erice called to the nun and explained the whole story to her.
The nun directed them to walk to the back of the orphanage. The back wall of the orphanage was about two streets away, and they could see a small, avoided area: "That's one of the shelters of the Church of the Reverence. After Kuai Song came to work here, he would take time every few days to help out at the shelter. Could that be related to his death? He didn't go to the shelter the day he left; he just went to buy things. But according to Miss A-Jiang, she found his body in the alley between these two streets."
"We'll have to see for ourselves to know." Xiao Jiang scratched his head. "I don't know much about this place, so I can't see any problems, but they should be able to."
Among "them," one stood by with his hands in his pockets, watching coldly; another held an umbrella, seemingly unconcerned; and yet another looked more like the murderer than the murderer himself.
Eric's gaze swept over "them" and then he finally said to Xiao Jiang, "I'm counting on you, Miss Xiao Jiang."
Xiao Jiang readily agreed and strode over there.
Zhao walked slowly behind, holding a light parasol. His shadow was cast diagonally and divided into many pieces by the shadows of the trees.
Shu Ningmiao lagged a few steps behind, grabbed the arm of the silent person, and tilted her head slightly: "You don't have to go."
"You care about me?" Shu Changyan bent down, reached out and took her hand, rubbed his chin against her palm, his voice still soft, but with a happiness that even she could hear: "It's okay."
He smiled and grasped Shu Ningmiao's soft fingers nestled in his palm: "Although I really hate the so-called church."
A few minutes later, I stood at the entrance of the shelter.
Among the busy cultivators, a person kneeling on the ground had their back to them, their smooth hair trailing behind them, serene and peaceful. Dressed in white without any adornment, this person was making incomprehensible hand gestures in front of their chest. When they turned their head, the mole between their eyebrows was particularly striking on their exceptionally holy face. Their excessively pale face had an inhuman radiance, like porcelain, without any flaws.
His gaze was undisguised, fixed directly on Shu Ningmiao, his dark, lifeless pupils seemingly gleaming slightly in the sunlight.
Wei Shengqianheng brushed his long hair behind his ear, his eyes filled with barely suppressed laughter. He lowered his voice and spoke with just the right amount of confusion, as if he couldn't see anyone else: "I didn't expect to meet you here... Miss Shu."
His tone trailed off with a hook, and even his polite and distant address took on a different meaning.
Shu Changyan spoke again coldly: "But now, it seems even more annoying."
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Author's Note: The Holy Son's every action was meticulously designed.
On the surface, it's a fair 2v2 duel, but someone's actually all alone behind the scenes. I didn't tell Miao directly for two reasons: first, we have a tacit understanding—I know Miao already guessed it; second, he and Zhao are friends, and if they really clashed, Zhao wouldn't stand a chance. Someone would betray us on the spot. Miao's character reflects my character.
Zhao's Year-End Summary
This year, perhaps the most important thing for you was fashion. You searched for fashion-related keywords 748 times: #outfittips, #lifestyle, #fashiontrends, #poetry, #aestheticcultivation, #sophisticatedstyle dressing...
You once searched for "What to do if your colleague is a dog" and browsed 31 related articles in one go. Did you find the answer that day as you wandered around in curiosity?
This year you rejected 94 communications, and your most frequently used auto-reply was "I resigned." It seems you must be a quiet person.
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