âBut whether it will be successful or not, thatâs a matter of fate,â Mo Lian softly held her small hand and added, âWhat I mean is, even if we canât ultimately save Senior Sister Xu, you mustnât let yourself become too disheartenedâŠâ
He truly feared the prospect. When he contemplated the two years she had vanished, an inexplicable sense of dread overwhelmed him.
He dreaded the possibility of the little stoic sinking back into her despondent and world-weary state due to disappointment.
He feared losing the vibrant light in her eyes.
For this reason, he harbored a certain resentment toward Jing Minyao now.
If she hadnât returned from the dead, Qiaoqiao wouldnât have entertained the notion of the Jing Familyâs sacred artifact.
The young woman clasped his large palm and nodded vigorously. âDonât worry, Iâll manage my emotions. I wonât allow myself to wallow in despair.â
Mo Lian nodded, gripping her small hand, and murmured, âItâs said that the Soul-Gathering Bell only possesses three usages.â
âAs far as Iâm aware, when it came into the Jing Familyâs possession, there were just two opportunities left. One of them was squandered on Jing Minyao, which means⊠only one last chance remains.â
Qiao Mu instinctively clenched her small fists. âI wonder who possesses it now.â
Despite her calculating nature, Qiao Mu somewhat admired her commanding presence.
Compared to the ineffectual Jing Minyao, Princess Jing stood as the Jing Familyâs pride and hope.
âWeâll find out when the time comes.â Mo Lian narrowed his eyes and chuckled. âIn any case, there are plenty of opportunities on our journey.â
Qiao Mu contemplated this and agreed, tugging her Hubby back to the deck.
Upon stepping onto the deck, they discovered Jing Minyao leaning against the railing, gazing at her in silence.
Qiao Mu didnât engage her and instead proceeded directly to Holy Son Miyanâs side. âHey, take a look at the sky. Itâs going to rain heavily tonight. Inform the boatmen to hurry. We donât want to get drenched in the middle of the river. The storm is approaching, and it couldâŠâ
âHey, hey, hey! Hush!â Holy Son Miyan desperately wished to stifle the little stoicâs jinxing words. âWhat are you talking about? The sky appears perfectly clear. Why predict a storm? Do you think youâre the Heavenly Sectâs prophet? Do you believe the wind will blow just because you say so? Do you think itâll rain because you claim it will rainâŠ?â
No sooner had she finished speaking, a bolt of lightning took the opportunity to descend and struck the shipâs mast, startling the shipwrights into jumping.
Everyoneâs mouths twitched as they regarded Her Excellency Lady Qiaoqiao with incredulous expressions.
Holy Son Miyan widened her teary eyes and peered up at the darkening sky, her unease intensifying.
âWe need to hurry! The storm is approaching!â Qiao Mu shouted at Holy Son Miyan again and asserted, âAt your current speed, weâll miss the secret realm entirely!â
This time, no one regarded it as a jest. Holy Son Miyan rushed to the shipâs control room and urged the captain, âOld He, Old He! Steady the ship!â
In under half an hour, the storm arrived.
They exchanged knowing glances and privately thought, This jinxed stoic! Sheâs genuinely clairvoyant!
Crack! The sky rent asunder with an S-shaped bolt of lightning, instantly transforming the dark night into a luminous day.
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