Chapter 4: The Flower of the Other Shore

The Expeditionary Force… it’s fine, I just want to take a quick look. The voice that followed was pure and clear, soft and pleasant, like a gentle breeze stirring a crystal wind chime on a sunny afternoon.

“If you insist, then give this old servant some time. I will clean out the Expeditionary Force and blood slaves inside, and then you may enter.”

“No! I just want to look; there’s no need to kill so many people!”

“…Alright.”

The door of the bar disintegrated into ashes silently, and the temperature in the hall suddenly dropped by several degrees. Everyone, including the soldiers of the Expeditionary Force, found themselves immobilized, able to move only their eyes.

A young girl walked into the bar.

She had a slightly slender and petite figure, and a black fitted coat that made her exquisite face glow with a soft light, as if she were the finest porcelain. She had large, clear, and pure eyes, not belonging to this chaotic, bloody, and filthy world.

As she entered, the entire place transformed into a serene haven, no longer cold or dirty. All the changes stemmed from this mysterious girl, who seemed to possess a powerful force capable of cleansing souls.

She appeared incredibly strong yet immensely fragile, as if a gust of wind on the wasteland could shatter her. At the sight of her, many felt a strange, inexplicable pain, as if this delicate and pure girl might fall at any moment.

Her gaze slowly swept over every person and corner of the bar, missing no detail. When she saw Qianye, her eyes brightened with a hint of surprise, but soon dimmed, and she sighed softly.

She murmured, “I thought a place called Manshu Shahua would be different… Sigh! Maybe I’m overthinking. Let’s go, Uncle Wang.”

At her call, an elderly man with snow-white hair quietly appeared by her side. He had been standing there all along, but everyone had subconsciously ignored his presence.

The elder glanced at Qianye and said to the girl, “This is just an ordinary bar, filled with filth and corruption like any other. Perhaps he just coincidentally knew the name, without understanding its true meaning.”

The girl wrapped her coat tighter and sighed, “Maybe so! But finding this word in the abandoned lands is still a small surprise.”

Uncle Wang smiled, “Since Miss likes it, let him share a bit of your joy. A fortunate lad, hehe.”

“Yes, a lucky one indeed!” the girl whispered.

The girl left the bar, and the elder took out a small black velvet bag, placing it on the counter. He said to Qianye with deep meaning, “Since you have pleased Miss, whatever you have on you is worthy of reward. This is for you.”

After the elder left, the people in the bar regained their mobility, but they remained frozen, forgetting to move or speak. The experience of being unable to move or speak was like a nightmare, and the girl was the only light in that dark world.

Qianye’s face was pale as he placed his hand on the black velvet bag left by the elder, and after a long while, he finally opened it to take a peek inside.

Inside was a full bag of imperial gold coins!

Dozens of imperial gold coins, a fortune that could drive anyone mad on the wasteland.

In this lawless land, three silver coins could buy a life, and five silver coins could make any woman lift her skirt. But one imperial gold coin was worth a hundred silver coins. Imperial gold coins were not meant to be spent, as nothing was worth the value of one such coin.

The gold coins did not dazzle Qianye; his eyes fixed on a crystal box half-buried in the coins. The box was only three fingers wide, intricately carved with a rose-like flower. Through the lid, he could see three silver bullets inside.

These bullets had transparent crystal heads filled with a silvery liquid, and the silver casings were also engraved with a rose-like flower.

These non-standard silver bullets were clearly privately made by a noble family, with a special lethal effect on dark races, especially terrifying against the blood race.

Seeing these three silver bullets, Qianye’s face turned deathly pale, breaking into a cold sweat that drenched his clothes.

Many in the bar were curious about the contents of the black velvet bag, craning their necks to get a better look. Some showed greed, but none dared to approach. Curiosity and desire made people bold and reckless, but in the face of overwhelming power, they knew to restrain themselves.

The soldiers of the Expeditionary Force set down their half-eaten food, silently formed up, and escorted the blood slaves out of the bar.

An Expeditionary soldier approached the counter, saying coldly, “Lad, you’re in luck, but that old—”

He intended to say, “What did the old man give you? Show me,” but was interrupted by Liu Jiang.

The colonel placed an imperial gold coin on the counter!

He said, “This is for the meal. You’re really in luck, pleasing someone important. From now on, the Expeditionary Force will not disturb your business. If you change your mind, you can always come to the Expeditionary fort. Remember my name, I’m Liu Jiang. You can find Chu Xiong or me.”

Qianye pondered, then replied, “Thank you, I’ll consider it.”

Liu Jiang nodded, shouted, “Let’s go!” and led the Expeditionary soldiers out of the bar.

At the city gate, the bald police chief had emerged from the ruins. His face was bloodstained, but he didn’t wipe it, sitting on a boulder, gazing at the sky, muttering, “I knew something was amiss… I knew…”

Night had fallen, and the sky bore a giant, blood-red moon!

Qianye closed the bar early and waived the night’s drinks. People, shaken, wanted to return home to rest.

The main topic of discussion was the amount of money in the small bag, and many wondered what Manshu Shahua truly meant. But few in the town could read, and their guesses were fruitless.

In the bar, Qianye stared at the flower on the crystal bullet case, motionless. It wasn’t a rose, but a legendary flower, Manshu Shahua.

Manshu Shahua, also known as the Flower of the Other Shore, was said to grow only in the River Styx, guiding souls to the other side.

As night deepened, the town grew quiet, and people fell asleep. The bald police chief returned home, drank half a catty of poor-quality liquor, and snored loudly.

The town gates were still damaged, and repairing them would take days. In truth, the town’s five-meter-high walls could only stop ordinary beasts and blood slaves.

But tonight, there was no need to worry. The Expeditionary Force had clearly purged the area, hoping for peace for a fortnight.

For scavengers, pioneers, and adventurers, even a well-protected Lighthouse Town was little defense. The Expeditionary Force and dark race soldiers could easily raze the town. But that was beyond the police chief’s concerns. He accepted what was beyond his control.

Qianye also slept, and in his dreams, he found himself in a deserted street.

There was no light, no people, only the echo of his footsteps on the empty street. A giant blood moon occupied half the night sky.

He sensed a great danger approaching, but he had no weapon. In a panic, he rushed to a roadside, trying to pull a pipe from the ground. As his hand grasped the pipe, countless blood slaves leapt from the darkness, howling and attacking!

Qianye felt his body heavy, his movements slowed to a crawl. Before he could react, a blood slave pounced, biting his neck, its sharp fangs piercing his artery!

Qianye bolted upright in bed!

He panted for a long time before realizing it was just a nightmare.

But the dream was so vivid, the feeling of the fangs in his neck so real. Even knowing it was a dream, Qianye couldn’t help touching his neck.

His skin was smooth, but two faint, barely noticeable bumps could be felt. Scars left by the blood race.

Qianye’s chest heaved, his body drenched in sweat.

He wasn’t in bed, but curled in a corner, wrapped in a blanket. This was a habit from the Evernight Continent, to avoid being ambushed in his sleep. It also allowed him to turn the tables on any unsuspecting attacker.

Qianye stood, feeling weak and dizzy, nearly falling. Composing himself, he went to a cabinet, took the black velvet bag, and removed the crystal bullet case, hesitating before opening it.

In the dim light, the three silver bullets glowed, and the case exuded a rich energy.

Qianye murmured, “As expected… all primal energy bullets.”

He touched the bullets, and a hiss sounded as his fingertip burned. The primal energy within the bullet’s head swirled, ready to explode.

Qianye withdrew his hand, and the reaction subsided. He knew these were not ordinary primal energy bullets, but specialized anti-magic argentite bullets, crafted by a formidable master.

Qianye looked at his hands, one glowing with spiritual light, the other wrapped in a dense aura of blood.

The girl’s eyes had the power to see through illusions, and Uncle Wang was a terrifying master, with primal energy surging but contained, one of the strongest he had ever seen.

Leaving these specialized anti-magic argentite bullets with the imperial gold coins was a clear sign they had seen through Qianye’s secret, but, out of respect for the bar’s name, chose not to expose it.

But what was special about Manshu Shahua, aside from being the Empire’s most famous gun, that could make the old man, who had intended to cleanse the bar, spare a potentially tainted Qianye?