Chen An left.
As for what might unfold between the bound sword immortal and the fox demon, he had no idea, nor did he care to find out.
With Su Chichi in tow, he calmly walked out of Ji Manor under the stunned gazes of the onlookers gathered outside the side courtyard.
Behind them, terrified, panicked screams erupted one after another.
Chen An covered Su Chichi's ears, "Don't listen."
The little girl nodded obediently, but then asked curiously, "Master, how come it feels like you know everything? We only met that fox sister once."
Chen An paused for a moment mid-step.
"That's fate."
"So amazing! Master, do you know how to tell fortunes too?" Su Chichi bit her finger, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. She looked like she wanted to ask something more, but in the end held back and stayed quiet.
—
A prison of dense mist.
The woman lowered her arms, dazedly staring at the foggy cage.
She remembered now.
She remembered what she had wanted to ask that day.
'Master, what about your own fate... what is it?' She clutched her chest, as if an invisible hand had clenched her heart tightly. A faint, dull pain spread from within.
…
The next morning.
The small courtyard of the Sunflower Orphanage.
Chen An and Chen Xi were watering the flowers and vegetables they had planted.
It was still early, the sky just beginning to brighten.
Besides the director and the two of them, the other children at the orphanage were still fast asleep.
This had always been their routine—he and Chen Xi were the two who woke the earliest.
With a soft thunk, Chen An set down his iron watering can.
He looked down at the water that had soaked his pant leg, then turned to the girl beside him. "Give it a little more time. I'll make sure you can see again."
His voice was calm, like this so-called incurable condition—one that even the best hospitals couldn't resolve—was nothing more than a minor issue in his eyes.
Chen Xi also held a watering can in her hands. She froze for a moment at his words, then silently adjusted the spout's direction.
The other pant leg was spared.
"Alright," the girl replied softly as she set her watering can down.
"You're not going to ask?" Chen An turned toward her. "Aren't you curious?"
Chen Xi shook her head. "I've gotten used to it. Whether I can see or not doesn't matter that much anymore."
Though she didn't say it outright, it was clear she had long given up hope for regaining her sight.
Chen An smiled, then said suddenly, "But you've never even seen what I look like."
"Aren't you even a little curious if I'm handsome or ugly? You must've imagined it at least once." He reached out and pinched her cheek.
Finding the texture quite pleasing, he pinched it again.
Chen Xi didn't resist. She tilted her head, thought for a moment, and asked, "Is that really so important?"
"Of course it is," Chen An replied with feigned seriousness. "I'm actually pretty good-looking. If you never get to see me, I feel like I'm getting the short end of the stick."
Chen Xi seemed at a loss for words. She turned away and walked off.
Watching her back, Chen An chuckled quietly.
He didn't know why, but whenever he was around her, he always felt much younger—despite the fact that, in real age, he hadn't even graduated high school yet.
He stood there for a while, then turned and walked out the orphanage gate.
The shop next door—Wang Liang's Grocery—hadn't opened yet.
Chen An circled around the outer wall of the orphanage. Eventually, he stopped in front of a patch of 'graffiti.'
The graffiti was chaotic—lines upon lines tangled together, messy and aimless. But together, they formed a complete image.
He stared at it for a long while, somehow finding it familiar. Then he turned and left, without doing anything.
Hidden in a nearby corner, Zhang A-si wiped the fine sweat from his forehead.
He didn't know why, but this seemingly ordinary teenager had triggered all of his danger instincts. His heart was still pounding madly, as if it were about to burst from his chest.
Zhang A-si furrowed his brows and cautiously double-checked again.
Yes, this youth was definitely just an ordinary mortal.
Even so, he dared not let his guard down. He was seriously contemplating whether he should just abort the entire operation.
After all, it was through precisely this caution that he had survived up to now—ever since inheriting the Blood Sacrifice Patriarch's legacy, crawling from nothing to his current level without once getting caught or blown up.
Caution was his creed.
Whenever something felt wrong, he'd always choose to flee without hesitation.
Like that time at Mount Qingcheng—when his spiritual intuition screamed danger, he hadn't paused even a second. He sacrificed heart blood on the spot and escaped faster than anyone could react.
Sure, the backlash had left him with lingering injuries, but at least he was alive.
As the saying goes: 'as long as the green hills remain, one need not fear running out of firewood'.
But this time…
This time, Zhang A-si was done running.
Head lowered slightly, he slowly clenched his fists, a crazed, bloodthirsty glint flashing through his eyes.
He craved the blood essence of cultivators—desperately. It had been too long since he last devoured one.
But cultivators had become even rarer than endangered species. Every last one was tightly monitored by the authorities. There was simply no way to get at them.
Fortunately, with enough children sacrificed in blood rites, he could use them as substitutes—stand-ins for low-level cultivators.
Otherwise, if he waited much longer, Zhang A-si feared his blood fiend technique would backlash and destroy him.
This time, he had no intention of fleeing.
Nor did he need to. He was at the third layer of Qi Refining!
At this early stage of spiritual revival, who besides a handful of ancient monsters could possibly stop him?
There was no way he'd suffer a setback in a place like this shabby orphanage. Just a bunch of brats and one old man—Zhang A-si couldn't think of a single way this could go wrong.
Even if, against all odds, he did encounter something beyond his control—if death truly loomed—he still had one final trump card:
He could summon the Blood Fiend Patriarch.
Of course, he couldn't bring the true body here—but even a mere wisp of projection or attention from the Patriarch would be more than enough.
Which meant—
There was no possibility of failure.
…
Back inside the orphanage, Chen An found the director.
In that old, shabby office, Chen An pulled out the bank card Lin Jingqiu had given him and placed it on the desk.
The director adjusted his reading glasses, frowning as he looked at the quietly resting card.
"Where'd you get this? Who gave it to you?"
The old man's tone was stern.
Chen An didn't lie, "A classmate. She gave it to me."
The director stared at the youth for a long moment, then suddenly asked, "Female classmate?"
Chen An nodded.
The director followed up immediately: "Is she pretty?"
"…Probably? She's quite popular at school."
Chen An figured—if Lin Jingqiu wasn't considered attractive, then who was? These days, everyone was a hardcore looks fanatic.
Hearing the response, the old director's wrinkled face relaxed.
He smiled in satisfaction, clapping Chen An on the shoulder kindly.
"You brat. I knew this day would come."
"Huh?" Chen An was confused.
But the director had already changed the topic.
"Coincidentally, Qin Shou called me a few days ago too. Said he'd drop by today for a visit. Said he raised quite a bit of money for the orphanage."
"You all should take the chance to catch up as well."
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