Chapter 41

Dawn and Dusk Nine Lights

"What compensation does Lady Fu Guang want?" Shang Ze asked, his expression unchanged.

Fu Guang smiled, stepped forward to stand at his side, pressed her palm on Shang Ze's shoulder, gave a pat, her eyes somewhat cold: "Then we'll see Young Master Shang Ze's sincerity."

On this floor, as soon as one looks, flowers of all colors and sizes bloom in competition; they are blossoms that money can hardly buy outside.

It's as if one has mistakenly entered the Flower God's fairyland.

"Will these flowers come alive and eat you?" Fu Guang asked suddenly while walking, turning her head back.

"No." Shang Ze glanced at the grudge-holding Fu Guang for a moment, then replied softly: "The danger isn't in Area A."

"Milady" — the voices of Shu Tong and Liu Yun had just reached Fu Guang's ears when the two had already darted through the flower thicket to stand beside her.

"Your family's library is harder to navigate than a maze." Shu Tong muttered blandly; each floor here is extremely vast, divided into Areas A, B, C, and D.

They had been circling Areas A and B, and only when they sensed their spiritual imprints heating up, giving them guidance, did they stop bumping around like headless flies.

"These two floors are empty; shall we go down to investigate?" Fu Guang said, as the spiritual imprints she could sense swirled around her.

"Shang Ze, won't you introduce yourself?" Fu Guang turned to look at the silent white-haired man.

Shang Ze chuckled lightly; usually others introduced him, but this was the first time he was introducing someone else to his family's things.

He introduced from top to bottom: "The fifth floor holds exotic beast remains, the fourth floor flowers, the third floor various mecha and protective gear, and the second and first floors are entirely books."

"All the way down, they should have arrived by now." Fu Guang said, sensing the cluster of spiritual imprints gathered in one place.

"You're so slow." Yin Zhu stepped lightly like a cat to Fu Guang's side, "This smoky, scorching smell." She waved her hand gently in front of her nose.

"Was that explosion your doing? Any injuries?" she asked. The black-footed cat materialized, circled Fu Guang twice, sniffed, and found nothing abnormal.

"Good, no injuries."

Sentinels already have keen senses, but a spiritual-form scan brings greater reassurance.

"Shang Ze, your family's library suddenly has danger—why didn't you warn us beforehand?" Bai Gao narrowed his eyes, asking offhandedly.

It was almost as if he were pointing at Shang Ze and saying, "Are you hiding ill intentions?"

"Any findings, everyone?" Yu Bai's fingertip glided over the bookshelf, stopping at the book titled *Morning Evening Nine Illuminations*, which suited her taste; Fu Guang sat in the rocking chair, opened a page, and began to browse.

Regarding the danger, she didn't take it to heart, had grown accustomed to it, and didn't want to listen to the nutritionally empty squabbles of a few people.

As Fu Guang focused on the book, the others exchanged glances and each found a book to sit down with.

Yin Zhu propped her chin with one hand, while the other listlessly flipped a few pages before refusing to look further.

The writing was incoherent, boring, and a waste of time.

She admitted she was illiterate; it would be better to go fight and feel satisfied.

The rest also drooped their brows, showing a lack of interest.

In a Sentinel's blood flows violence, bloodshed, and unrest.

Naturally full of energy, making Sentinels sit quietly for a while is practically a death sentence for them.

Even the seemingly mildest Sheng Lai Ke Si is no exception; although he appears without the slightest aversion, his brows are lowered a bit more than usual, and he turns a page only every two minutes.

This reading speed is actually the fastest among the Sentinels, leaving Fu Guang in awe.

Are Sentinels just war machines with all stats maxed out? Is their mind filled only with thoughts of fighting and how to win battles?

She also forgot to consider that in the space age, who still reads paper books? For any question, you ask your light brain and get all kinds of information—there's no need to know everything yourself.

Fu Guang subtly shook her head; the flyleaf still read, "Books are the key to enlightening human wisdom. Knowledge is knowledge, wisdom is wisdom."

But these few people don't look like idiots either.

Oh well, we still have to rely on her.

She lowered her head and gradually immersed herself in the book; time flew by. When she sighed and closed the book, the shadow had already lengthened, slowly creeping indoors.

The sky had already darkened; the library lights came on, flooding the hall with brightness, casting long shadows of people behind them.

Fu Guang raised her arms to stretch her wrists, easing the stiffness of her body from sitting idle for five system cycles; her mind still savored the story she had just read.

Yes, *Morning Evening Nine Illuminations* tells the tale of a person named Ren Huan, a long story.

The name Ren Huan obviously signifies being cherished and expected by family, granting you every kind of joy; sadly, contrary to the name, her life was the opposite.

Rather than saying it's her life, it's more like a microcosm of that great era.

Later generations called that era the "Apocalypse Descends"—an age filled with despair, when alien species descended, pollution ran rampant, and Guides and Sentinels had just appeared.

Death and despair intertwined, joy and void coexisted, dreams ceased to exist, and everyone resisted the alien species in an era where no one knew if tomorrow would come.

Her appearance was like a barely noticeable spark, yet it ignited the tinder, scattering hope; together with those who never gave up, she resisted the alien species, only to fall at the brink of dawn—a great hero.

Before her eyes seemed to appear a girl who, in her youth, was a bit willful, unrestrained and wild like the wind, yet ultimately bore everyone's expectations.

Her voice rang clear in her ears: "Where the heart leads, I follow; even amid ten thousand deaths, my resolve does not waver."

She is a senior she admires, one who, despite an uncertain future, dared to bear the torch. All are worthy of respect.

She moistened her throat; the tea in her cup was just the right temperature. As she lifted her head, she happened to meet Bai Gao, who had swooped down from upstairs, landing lightly on one knee to cushion his momentum before coming before Fu Guang.

"Sister. You're finished?" Her words barely concealed her delight—finally, can we leave?

This is a long-term mission; the Xue Yuan side isn't pressing them to resolve it within a few days.

"Sister, several system cycles have passed and you're tired too—why not go rest?"

"After all, this is the Wu Ran Qu; staying too long is bad for the body."

A hidden door opened, and out came a cat, a fox, and two birds; each animal's mouth clung to some unknown fur of the other creatures.

As soon as the spiritual forms saw Fu Guang, they all dodged her gaze, running back to their masters; some, seeming guilty, retreated straight into their spiritual landscapes.

Shu Tong, seated one seat away, kept her head lowered, not daring to look at Fu Guang; a snowbird burrowed into her hair, cautiously extending a pair of black eyes from between the strands to glance at Fu Guang.

Fu Guang rubbed her forehead, waved her hand, and decided to temporarily end this mission exploration.

She was indeed a little tired.

"When you get back, write a mission report and send it to me." Fu Guang had no intention of letting these slacking-off crew members off the hook, saying word by word: "Understood? Crew members?"

"Understood." Sentinels always write mission reports when they go out on missions, so everyone accepts it well and quickly agreed.

Actually, the sentinels are patient too; they can endure staking out a target for several days at a time, so they wouldn't be unable to stay put for just a while.

But staking out the enemy doesn't have the thrill of catching them; what can you get from reading? Just an empty head after you finish?