Chapter 27: The Celestial Nemesis

The maiden took a deep breath, her small chest rising and falling violently. Despite her youth, she possessed an unusual allure, her bright, dark eyes darting nervously between Qian Ye and the ground. She stammered, “I… I think we’ve met before…”

Qian Ye, his expression unchanged, asked, “Where do you think we’ve met?” Although he had suspected earlier that the girl might recognize him, his surprise had not diminished.

Qian Ye’s appearance had changed significantly since childhood due to his bloodline. Even Song Zining, who had been his classmate for years, had to verify his identity. The intuition of this maiden was truly frightening.

The girl seemed to be mustering her courage, struggling to say, “It seems… when we were very young. Once, you gave me… bread.”

“Um…” Qian Ye neither confirmed nor denied it, asking instead, “Have you joined the Bai Clan now?”

The girl nodded. “I’ve had some good luck recently. I met Sister Bai Ao Tu, and she brought me back to the Bai family. They’ve given me food, training, and potions. My name in the Bai family is Bai Kong Zhao.”

“Truly, you’ve been quite fortunate,” Qian Ye said casually, then asked, “I seem to remember you being older than this?”

Bai Kong Zhao, obediently answering every question, said, “After you left the garbage dump, I stayed there for many more years, just barely surviving. When I grew a bit, I could travel further, going wherever I could find food. I’ve only been with the Bai family for less than a year, and only since then have I eaten enough. I guess not eating much is why I’m so small?”

Her voice was calm, and her expression gradually relaxed. In a few brief sentences, she summed up over a decade of her life.

Suddenly, an oppressive silence fell between them.

Qian Ye maintained his casual, laid-back posture, watching Bai Kong Zhao quietly. The girl, with her hands behind her back, looked down at her toes, like a small animal surrendering to a powerful predator, baring its vulnerable parts, awaiting slaughter.

This silence was heavy, almost suffocating, urging one to shout or scream.

Qian Ye exhaled deeply, his expression a mix of amusement and seriousness. “Good, very good, indeed. You haven’t given me any reason to kill you. You don’t even have the intent to kill, which is rare.”

Bai Kong Zhao also breathed a sigh of relief, her lips pouting. Though still timid, the line of her pink lips relaxed into what looked like a smile.

Qian Ye spoke softly, “I’m not one to dwell on the past, so let bygones be bygones. If we meet again, don’t give me a reason to kill you.”

“I won’t,” the girl said firmly.

Qian Ye’s smile deepened slightly. “Even if I’m in a bad mood, that could be a reason.”

Bai Kong Zhao immediately fell silent, her head bowed once more.

“Damn it!” Qian Ye turned and left, cursing under his breath.

Bai Kong Zhao raised her head and glanced at Qian Ye’s retreating figure. In her eyes, he walked hastily, his defenses not as tight as they should be. She saw at least four or five opportunities to strike.

But she clenched her fists tightly, her nails cutting into her palms, making them wet with sweat. Still, she willed herself to lower her head once more.

After walking a distance, Qian Ye suddenly turned around, seeing Bai Kong Zhao still standing quietly in the same spot, motionless. He shook his head and quickened his pace.

Years later, meeting her again, the girl still managed to surprise Qian Ye. She had come alone, undoubtedly with ill intentions, yet he felt no hostility. Her submissive posture almost made him believe she had come to apologize.

Qian Ye found it hard to attack someone without a clear reason, especially one who showed no hostility. Moreover, if he were to attack, could he really kill a girl with such incredible combat instincts in one blow? If not, he would give her an opening.

This was a rare skill; Bai Kong Zhao’s innate intuition always seemed to find her opponent’s weakness, tilting the situation in her favor.

When Bai Kong Zhao returned to the valley, Bai Lun was directing his subordinates to stack the corpses of the dark races. On the nearby clearing, several wooden stakes had been erected, and two captured vampires were bound to them. Two Bai warriors were cutting their flesh and pouring silver liquid into the wounds.

Seeing Bai Kong Zhao return, Bai Lun hurried over. “Miss Kong Zhao, you look pale. Are you alright?”

Bai Kong Zhao shook her head. “I’m fine, just wandering around. Have you found any clues?”

Bai Lun shook his head. “No. It seems these two vampires know nothing. We need to keep searching.”

Bai Kong Zhao said, “Since they know nothing, let’s entertain them a bit longer. I’m a bit tired, so let’s set up camp here for the night.”

Bai Lun immediately ordered his subordinates to set up a tent for Bai Kong Zhao. He had been traveling with her for some time, and her ruthless methods even frightened him, a veteran of many battles. Even without her connection to Bai Ao Tu, Bai Lun felt that this girl had a promising future, and it was best not to offend her.

Bai Kong Zhao entered the tent, pulled the curtain, and poured herself a cup of water.

But the water in the cup was restless, spilling over the edge. Before she could take a sip, her chest was already drenched. She stared at her hand, which had pierced countless hearts, now trembling uncontrollably.

She realized she was afraid.

Fear wasn’t a strange emotion; Bai Kong Zhao had never felt secure. It was the fear of danger that had kept her alive in harsh conditions. But this fear was different from what she had experienced before.

She put the overflowing cup back on the table, instinctively applying force to steady it. With a crunch, the steel cup was crushed.

Bai Kong Zhao pressed her left hand over her trembling right hand, sitting upright, trying to understand what she was afraid of.

Was it that person? The one she recognized at first glance.

Her experiences taught her that she could only rely on herself. If she suddenly had a feeling, it was true; all other logical reasons were false.

So when her intuition told her that the man was deadly dangerous, she followed him. The entire encounter was fraught with risk, and though Qian Ye never showed any intent to kill, she knew a single wrong word could turn the threat on the battlefield into a fatal blow.

Yet, Bai Kong Zhao also believed Qian Ye wouldn’t actually attack, as she understood human nature and knew the impact of her youthful appearance. But she was still afraid, terribly afraid. Now, thinking back, she wasn’t so sure.

For the first time, Bai Kong Zhao felt her intuition was insufficient. She started to think about why she connected the eagle-striking warrior to the little boy from the garbage dump years ago.

It was the eyes! A sudden realization hit her. She knew exactly what she feared—it was his eyes!

Why was that?

Bai Kong Zhao had scrutinized Qian Ye’s weapons, limbs, and body, the details that determined a warrior’s strength. Qian Ye was swift, strong, and possessed extraordinary power in his hands and legs. His pistols and shining fangs were no ordinary weapons, but they didn’t affect her much.

His eyes were ordinary, perhaps beautiful to others, but not remarkable to her unless they had some special ability. If there was anything that stood out, it was their clarity, like a nearly flawless crystal.

Yet, Bai Kong Zhao was afraid of those eyes.

Was it the undetectable ability of her intuition, or the calm, lifeless gaze?

She couldn’t remember how many people she had killed. For her, survival and sustenance were paramount, and anything that hindered her had to be eliminated. Among the things she had eliminated, various people and dark races had shown different reactions. Some were shocked, some cursed, some refused to yield, and some fought to the death. Bai Kong Zhao had seen more than one true tough guy, who, even with severed limbs, continued to laugh and fight. In the end, they all died at her hands.

The girl always believed that people, or all life, fell into two categories: those she could kill now and those she could kill in the future. The state or willpower of her opponents meant nothing to her.

But that still didn’t explain why she recalled a small incident from so long ago and was still afraid of those eyes.

The girl pondered for a long time, finding no answer. She knew one thing: if the same situation happened again, that person would pull the trigger without hesitation.

Years had passed, and both she and he had changed.

Bai Kong Zhao did not sleep that night.

In the distant wilderness, Qian Ye knelt on a rock, overlooking the canyon below. He was also wide awake, his heart filled with murderous intent, unable to shake off an overwhelming restlessness. A voice echoed in his mind, urging him to turn back and kill Bai Kong Zhao, to eliminate future troubles.

Qian Ye calmed his turmoil. Since the black blood invaded his body, he disliked uncontrolled emotions, fearing they would make him lose his mind and fall into darkness.

He wondered why, after leaving, he felt such intense murderous intent towards the girl. In reality, they were both children then, too young to fully understand their actions. And during their second meeting, there was no conflict. If anything, it was he who had aimed at the girl on the battlefield.

Reflecting on it, that murderous intent seemed like a natural enmity imprinted in his being.

The murderous intent made Qian Ye restless, but he managed to suppress the urge to go back and hunt Bai Kong Zhao. He felt a paradoxical sense that, with her terrifying intuition, going back now would be futile, but if he didn’t, she would stay in the valley.

Qian Ye shook his head in the cool night breeze, dispelling his absurd thoughts, and began to climb and leap through the mountains. Since he couldn’t sleep, he decided to explore, hoping some unfortunate dark warrior might cross his path.

Finding no dark warriors, he stumbled upon two unfortunate beasts.

In a neighboring ravine, on a steep cliff halfway up the mountain, a natural cave housed two giant pythons lazily slithering about.