Chapter 23: Ink Blaze

Even after lying down in bed, in Zhao Qingyue’s arms, Bai Shuangshuang’s mind was still filled with the scene from the bath.

‘Is this… finally accepting my fate?’

Maybe she hadn’t fully accepted the reality, but at least she now dared to look at herself.

Turning her head to glance at Zhao Qingyue beside the pillow, the other girl was already fast asleep—perhaps exhausted from their earlier play.

A faint smile lingered on her sleeping face.

Who knew what sweet dream she was having?

Oh well, stop thinking about it.

Time to sleep.

Once she woke up, she’d have to consider condensing her Dao Seed.

Bai Shuangshuang clenched her palm, holding a Dream-Sealing Talisman.

She fell into a peaceful sleep.

But when she awoke, what greeted her wasn’t the morning light—it was a expanse of mist.

This place again, still hazy and foggy.

Bai Shuangshuang felt a bit discouraged.

It seemed her Dream-Sealing Talisman hadn’t worked this time.

But she had already mentally prepared herself and was no longer so anxious.

“Yo.”

A lazy voice came from behind, carrying a hint of surprise.

“Not panicking this time?”

Bai Shuangshuang turned around.

The black-dressed girl stood three steps away, still in the same outfit.

She tilted her head to look at Bai Shuangshuang.

“Not panicking.”

Bai Shuangshuang steadied herself.

“Panicking is useless. You’ll come whether I like it or not.”

The black-dressed girl raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Who are you, really?”

Bai Shuangshuang looked at her—that face identical to her own seemed somewhat unreal in the mist.

“What’s your name?”

“My identity—even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

She paced slowly, her bare feet treading on the void-like ground.

“As for a name, it’s just a code. I don’t care~.”

“Then I do.”

Bai Shuangshuang said.

“We can’t just go ‘hey hey hey’ every time we meet, right? That’s awkward. Besides, you have my face—calling out my own name would be weird.”

The black-dressed girl stopped in her tracks, turned back to look at her, a trace of surprise in her eyes.

“You’re much braver than the last two times.”

“I’ve gotten used to it.”

Bai Shuangshuang shrugged.

“It’s not like you can kill me, so what do I have to fear?”

That was Bai Shuangshuang’s inference—surely she couldn’t actually die in a dream, right?

The black-dressed girl merely curved her lips, noncommittal.

“Since you don’t care about names,” Bai Shuangshuang, seeing she didn’t object, began talking on her own, “then I’ll give you one. You have the same face as me, so let’s pick a matching name. My name is Bai Shuangshuang.”

She tilted her head and thought.

“Then you can be Hei Huohuo?”

The black-dressed girl’s mouth twitched.

“Or Hei Shaoshao?”

The black-dressed girl’s smile froze.

“Hei Tangtang?”

“…Enough.”

The other girl took a deep breath and reached up to rub her brow.

“Mo Zhuozhuo. Just call me Mo Zhuozhuo.”

Bai Shuangshuang blinked.

“That’s pretty nice. Better than Hei Tangtang.”

Mo Zhuozhuo ignored her.

“Are you stalling?”

She suddenly looked up at Bai Shuangshuang.

“You should have noticed from the first two times that our meeting time is limited, right?”

Bai Shuangshuang’s heart skipped a beat.

‘She saw through me.’

But her expression remained calm.

“No, I’m just keeping you company to pass the time~.”

Mo Zhuozhuo didn’t take the bait; instead, she stepped forward, closing the distance until she was right in front of Bai Shuangshuang.

“You’ve been… getting more and more delicate lately.”

She reached out, her fingertips lifting a strand of Bai Shuangshuang’s hair, slowly twirling it.

“The scent of maidenhood on you is getting stronger. Compared to when we first met, you’re practically a different person.”

Bai Shuangshuang frowned.

“It seems that Commandery Princess has taken good care of you.”

Mo Zhuozhuo’s gaze traveled across her face, as if appraising a carefully maintained piece of porcelain.

“You look more and more like a girl.”

“…I don’t.”

When Bai Shuangshuang said this, her confidence was clearly lacking.

Mo Zhuozhuo smiled but didn’t call her out.

“Oh, by the way, that Dream-Sealing Talisman of yours—” She released the strand of hair, took half a step back, and spoke in a light, airy tone.

“It was actually completely useless, baby~.”

Bai Shuangshuang’s expression froze.

“The last time I didn’t show up, I was just… playing with you.”

Mo Zhuozhuo tilted her head, smiling innocently.

“The sight of you earnestly drawing talismans was kind of cute. I couldn’t bear to disappoint you.”

Bai Shuangshuang was silent.

The talisman she’d spent half the day painstakingly drawing had been used as a cat teaser.

A deep sense of frustration welled up from the bottom of her heart.

“Don’t make that face.”

Mo Zhuozhuo reached out and pinched her cheek; her fingertips were cool.

“The condition I offered last time still stands. Give yourself to me, and I’ll help you investigate the Qingyun Sword Sect, find your senior sister, and help you get revenge.”

“No!”

Bai Shuangshuang slapped her hand away.

Mo Zhuozhuo wasn’t angry; she withdrew her hand and crossed her arms, speaking slowly.

“Don’t you want to know where your senior sister is? Don’t you want to know why the Qingyun Sword Sect was wiped out? The reasons behind it… are quite something, you know?”

Bai Shuangshuang’s fingers curled, but she still shook her head.

“I can investigate on my own. I don’t need to sell myself to some crazy woman of unknown origin.”

She paused and added, a hint of smugness in her tone, “Besides, since you said that, it means my senior sister must still be alive.”

Mo Zhuozhuo looked at her, an unidentifiable emotion flickering in her deep eyes.

“What if I put it differently? If you don’t agree—”

Her lips brushed against Bai Shuangshuang’s ear, her voice as light as a sigh, but the words as cold as a blade.

“I’ll go kill Luo Zhiwei right now.”

Bai Shuangshuang’s face instantly changed.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

She reached out to push Mo Zhuozhuo, spiritual energy gathering in her palm, but it was like punching a ball of cotton—all her strength was nullified without a trace.

Mo Zhuozhuo didn’t even stagger.

“Baby.”

Mo Zhuozhuo’s voice was still so gentle, as if coaxing a disobedient child.

“Didn’t I tell you last time? Don’t think about fighting me.”

Her hand had somehow already gripped Bai Shuangshuang’s neck.

She squeezed tightly.

Bai Shuangshuang could feel the coldness of those fingers, like ice-made pincers against her skin, tightening with each pulse.

“You’ll make me sad.”

Mo Zhuozhuo looked at her, the eerie fire in her eyes flickering, the same half-smile still hanging on her lips.

“When I get sad…”

She tightened her fingers.

“People die!”

Bai Shuangshuang’s breath was cut off.

Her mouth was open, but she couldn’t draw in any air.

Her vision began to blur; the chaos in her mind like rising tidewater, slowly submerging over her head.

‘I’m going to die.’

Just as consciousness was about to fade, the force on her neck suddenly released.

Bai Shuangshuang collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

She looked up and saw Mo Zhuozhuo standing still, her expression one Bai Shuangshuang had never seen before.

It wasn’t anger, nor disappointment, but disbelief.

Mo Zhuozhuo looked down at the hand that had just been choking Bai Shuangshuang.

Her fingertips were trembling slightly, her pupils shaking violently, as if she had witnessed something impossible.

“How could…”

Her voice drifted, carrying a panic Bai Shuangshuang had never heard.

“How is this possible? Why am I also… sensing the aura of death?”

Bai Shuangshuang, holding her neck, asked something in a hoarse voice, but Mo Zhuozhuo didn’t hear it.

Or rather, she wasn’t listening.

Her gaze shifted from her own hand to Bai Shuangshuang’s face; complex emotions churned in those deep eyes.

Her figure began to fade, just like the previous two times.

Bai Shuangshuang watched helplessly as she dissolved into countless tiny specks of light, dispersing into the mist.

The mist slowly dissipated.

Bai Shuangshuang’s eyes snapped open.

It was dawn.