114 It’s not a lover’s spa (1/2)

Chen Anyue coughed deeply with her chest heaving. Her hand pulled away with blood. She didn't know what time of day it was and when she tried to look around, everything simply felt muddied.

Where was she? And what was she even doing? For some reason, those things were difficult to answer.

Her surroundings came back to her in splashes of awareness. She was sitting at a desk. Her desk. In her own room.

Why did she think this strange?

On her desk was her ink and brush. There were two distinct pieces of parchment lying there, one was a document detailing the effects of sacred peach tree wood and another announcing the news of marriage. Her own marriage.

Neither of these things were written in her own handwriting.

But her mind felt too thick and heavy to feel alarmed. Another wave of coughs assaulted her body. Chen Anyue caught sight of the wooden idol of a strange unnamed god watching her from the edge of her desk.

”...” She squinted at it, not remembering having put it there.

A strange part of her mind told her that there were a lot of things she had trouble remembering…

Like what day it was.

Confused, Chen Anyue closed her eyes.

When she opened them, she was suddenly in the garden, accompanying her father for a stroll.

Her feet moved under her and she was overtaken by a terrible need to cough. There was the taste of blood in the back of her throat.

But her body was not in her own control, and even though she was tortured by the need to cough, she was standing and smiling calmly.

What was even worse, she was saying such strange and absurd things to her father!

Through gray eyes, Chen Anyue watched in horror as Chen Gaoyong smiled and nodded in agreement,

”Good, how great! Ah, my daughter is truly wise. Then I shall go and quickly make the preparations that I can. You will become such a good and lovely wife, my dear daughter.”

And though she was so stricken by horror, there was nothing she could do.

Worse, when she woke up next, her thoughts were so disjointed, she could not remember what it was she fretted so deeply over.

Surely, it had to be the peach tree supply…? She still needed to convince the Wang and Suo family…

…

In the midst of confusion, Liu Sumeng, Yuan Xuelan and Hui Moxiang, who had finally changed back to a human form, slipped into one of the side entrances of the watchtower.

Because people were running about outside, the interior felt almost suspiciously silent. Based on Hui Moxiang's intel, this was to be expected. There were not many people stationed at this garrison. And Liu Sumeng, who had faced the Seven Moons before, knew that a place like this was the exception and not the rule. Still, it was convenient for their purposes.

The interior of the watchtower was stale in scent. It was dark, with small flicks of lantern light that scattered about, illuminating the winding stairs that hugged the edges of the tall, ominous interior.

There were a few patrols along the towering walls, which made dealing with these Seven Moons disciples not too difficult. But there still remained the issue of locating the Fallen God.

Where was it?

It was not on the vacant space at the bottom of the tower and there were no signs of it in the hollow interior.

Liu Sumeng was careful with his movements, his watchful eye taking in the surroundings as he moved stealthily.

Yuan Xuelan caught sight of a set of approaching footsteps, a man curiously walked in their direction, seeming to catch movement beyond the pillars that curved around the wall.

”Hey, who's there? Why are you loitering about-”

Yuan Xuelan moved quickly, his hand wrapping around his foe's face in a vice grip, almost strong enough to crush bone. A muffled sound escaped from the man's lips, his eyes blown wide in shock.

”Xuelan!” Liu Sumeng's voice came out sharp as he rushed to Yuan Xuelan's side. A rope was already in his hand, and made quick work of rendering the man of his mobility.

”You're very good with that,” Hui Moxiang commented offhandedly, eyeing at the rope work that tightly wound around the man's torso and restricted any movement in his limbs and even snaked around his fingers tightly.

The Ivory Sword Saint shrugged off his comment, trying not to remember the reason as to why he was so skillful in using such an instrument. After all, he had a lot of time and practice in his previous life.

They took the man and relocated to a shadowed corner, ducking behind the cover of splintered pillars that held up the old watchtower.

”You will regret this,” the Seven Moons disciple hissed at them, ”Don't think you'll be able to get away with something like this.”

Yuan Xuelan bristled, ”Shut up if you know what's good for you.” His voice was dangerous and low. Just his presence was overbearing and irritable.

The Ivory Sword Saint ignored both of them and stepped in between, ”Where is the Fallen God?” He asked bluntly.

For a moment, the man's face fell, surprised that these unknown intruders had even a glimmer of their great plan. But he was not going to lose his composure, dignity nor pride so easily.