Chapter 59: Abandon

Abandon

"No." Fu Guang answered with a light smile, her smile perfect as always.

Qing Feng's fingers, hanging from his sleeve, lightly lifted and then fell on the jade flute like verdant jade.

His pale blue eyes glanced at the girl, like the white mist that rises on blue bricks after a light drizzle.

The expression in his eyes was well concealed, making it hard to discern. He nodded and asked, "How is the observation going?"

"It will take some time." The black brim hung down to her eyebrows, and beneath the silver‑frame tactical lenses, only her eyes were visible.

Perhaps because of the tactical lenses, her gaze now resembled that of an inorganic being.

There was not a hint of warmth; no one could probe the girl's thoughts through such calm blue eyes.

She was on guard against me.

Qing Feng thought, Fu Guang seemed to underestimate the ability of an S‑rank Guide; the girl always had faint jumping mental fluctuations, which disappeared upon seeing the blue flower.

Like a steady horizontal line, there was no abnormality. But having no abnormality was the greatest abnormality.

He couldn't help but think, a girl in her early teens, facing a colossal threat that could kill her in an instant—was she really not afraid?

Or perhaps she truly possessed extraordinary talent? Was she born fearless?

Qing Feng did not know.

Fu Guang shattered the near‑thousand‑year flawless reputation of the White Tower, and also cast aside the assessment that her promotion chances were slim.

Measured as D‑rank, in less than half a year she surged forward, leaping straight to C‑rank and becoming a B‑rank Guide.

In interstellar space, the vast majority of Guides are B‑rank. B‑rank already allows one to have one's own squad and to hold a certain say in the White Tower.

Within the White Tower, faint voices arose, doubting whether this person was truly Fu Guang, or whether someone had replaced her.

It could be that a rouge‑worm parasitized her, and it was not impossible.

Once suspicion arose, even the moment of inspection was far off.

Qing Feng, looking at the girl on high alert, still decided to trust her. He also did not believe that the girl, who had constantly resisted the blood‑thirsty vine with all her strength until the last moment, would be someone who stripped others of their humanity.

The azure bird also liked her thus; he finally thought that.

Actually, for both Guides and Sentinels, the movements of their spiritual forms can explain everything.

No need to find any excuse; even in a military court, "My spiritual form likes her." can be stated as an established fact.

This alone is enough to spare useless elaboration.

However, this sentence is usually used in love dramas between Guides and Sentinels on screen, when one party confesses.

Fu Guang stored the unknown item directly into her space, feeling that Qing Feng's gaze upon her was filled with myriad thoughts.

A flash of light crossed her calm blue eyes, and she suddenly wondered, could it have been discovered?

But she had really done nothing. Fu Guang felt a bit innocent, unaware that her brows and eyes had slightly lifted.

What would a Guide do? What would the White Tower do?

She pondered for a moment, then gave up, raising her brows, really wanting to expose her?

While rationally thinking she was mad, she actually wondered how to break out of the Sentinel army next and how to escape from the Federal University.

It must be that she had been repressed for too long, her mind addled.

Or perhaps the blood‑thirsty nature of the blood‑thirsty vine had activated the frenzy factor in her blood.

Qing Feng's mental power sensed the girl's sudden rise in mental fluctuations.

What happened to her?

Fu Guang single‑handedly removed her goggles; golden strands flew with her motion, hanging beneath the black brim of her cap, while a jade‑colored mask covered half her face.

"I've made a slight discovery."

Qing Feng seemed to hear nothing; before his eyes, a scroll unfurled slowly, giving a sense of mysterious beauty.

Fu Guang was very beautiful—her brows like distant mountains, her eyes like bright pearls, her complexion like snow, her lip color vivid.

At first sight of the girl, he already knew; yet now he was dazzled, Qing Feng lowered his gaze, for a moment daring not to look at her eyes.

"My fault," he told himself, laughing at himself for having not the slightest air of a senior.

In no time at all, he lifted his eyes again as if nothing had happened, his smile still gentle.

Fu Guang did not notice this little incident; she handed the protector containing the blue flower to Qing Feng.

"Mother."

A near‑heart‑rending sound came to her ears, yet she feared disturbing Fu Guang, a whisper‑like cry like a mosquito's buzz.

It was full of grievance, as if a single prick would make droplets fall.

Fu Guang said to the three curious gazes, "Look."

The blue blossoms still bloomed, brilliant as if about to drip.

"Look at what?"

"It actually survives apart from the blood‑thirsty vine." Fu Guang's words left people baffled.

All the blue flowers are but one.

Fu Guang lowered her eyes and smiled. A flower born from her blood—no wonder she is called "Mother."

Qing Feng didn't know why, but he felt that the aura surrounding this plant had changed from the start.

But it was so subtle he could not perceive it, like a wilting.

The little blue flower, seeing "Mother" abandon it, stood there hopelessly, with no desire to survive.

Abandoned by "Mother."

Even on the distant blood‑thirsty vine, no blue flowers bloomed; they retracted into the vine's body, lying still, so that even the sentient blood‑thirsty vine could feel no pattern.

Rise up, bloom for me! Bloom blue flowers!

The blood‑thirsty vine is unwilling; to take root on it without its consent, freeloading aside, even competing for nutrients—anyway, it cannot drive it away.

Now even its sole function has been lost; it will not allow that.

To the Bloodthirsty Vine, the little blue flower is merely a decoration—it can cleanse the blood the vine has absorbed, making tasty food even more delicious.

Clutching the vine, it acquiesced.

Now what entitles it to withdraw into its own body at the slightest disagreement, and still force it to eat unpalatable food?

Sipping flavorless blood, it shakes its vines, intending to drive the guests out to labor. Blue flower stays still, feigning death.

It evolved this way precisely because 'Mother' loves beautiful things and abhors blood.

If it fails to catch 'Mother's' eye, it might as well destroy itself.

But 'Mother' brought it into being solely to check the Bloodthirsty Vine—it cannot be devoid of even this purpose.

As for the Bloodthirsty Vine's conduct, Blue Flower feigns ignorance, instead stretching its branches toward the vine's core.

"What are you doing?" the Bloodthirsty Vine fumed. "Wasn't it agreed that you would tend it and it would only handle blooming?"

On the concealed core's red orb lies a blue trace— the mark left from Blue Flower's previous rooting.

If I kill it, will 'Mother' be pleased? Blue Flower pondered.

"Don't you want to live?" the Bloodthirsty Vine and Blue Flower have long since fused; Blue Flower lacks roots and relies on the vine to survive.

Should the Bloodthirsty Vine perish, Blue Flower will likewise be reduced to ash and smoke.

The red flower just now sucked its vitality; the condensed object should have fed it back, yet somehow Blue Flower wound up giving it to someone else.

Old and new grudges combined—the Bloodthirsty Vine is inherently bloodthirsty, and strife flares up once more inside.

Invisible energy waves exploded outward from its center.

"Strike!" Qingfeng's emerald jade flute sent forth wave after wave of sound.

Two silhouettes trailed a sonic boom as they surged ahead.