Chapter 168: Xia Mingyu Heads to the Circus, Accompanied by Three New Moon Knights

In the deep night, inside a small house built of straw and logs.

A boy, about eight or nine years old, thrashed on his bed like a stranded fish, the blanket long twisted into a tangled mess, yet he felt no sleepiness, only glancing occasionally out the window.

His name was Tang Mu, the son of a carpenter.

In the peaceful city of Langbao, children like him, though never worried about food or shelter, had no thought of entertainment—no more than chasing and roughhousing with peers down alleyways.

But among children of the Southern Region, there lived a tale as deeply rooted as a hero slaying a dragon to save a princess.

Legend spoke of a circus where “monsters” lived—frightening in appearance but kind at heart, performing free, delightful shows for every child in the world.

Whether poor or rich, humble or noble, beautiful or ugly, every child was equally and randomly chosen by the circus.

The chosen child would receive an invitation at midnight, delivered by a white mouse to their home.

This fairy-tale entrance held a magic no child could resist.

As time passed, Tang Mu gradually felt drowsy, his eyelids growing heavier.

Tap-tap-tap.

Suddenly, a faint tapping came from the window.

The next instant, the boy’s tightly shut eyes flew wide open; he leapt from bed like a spring-loaded toy and flung open the window.

A tiny white mouse, wearing a miniature top hat, stood outside the window, its incisors gripping a white invitation, staring silently at him.

Tang Mu reached out joyfully to take the invitation, but after several tries, he couldn’t pry it loose—the white mouse clung tightly, as if playing a game of stubbornness.

After a moment of stunned pause, the boy snapped back to himself and swiftly handed the mouse the black bread already prepared beside his bed.

The mouse curled its long tail around the bread crumbs, then released the invitation with satisfaction, leaping away in a few bounds until it vanished into the dark street.

Tang Mu carefully picked up the invitation, as if it were a fragile gem that might shatter with the slightest pressure.

He gently unfolded it, and saw a line of blood-red script:

“You are formally invited to the Monster Carnival under the Moonlight—a secret performance made solely for children.”

“The monsters are coming to steal your fear!”

The moment he finished reading, the boy bounced wildly on his bed, only calming down after waking his parents next door and receiving a beating with a broom.

He closed his eyes and sank deeply into sleep, already eager in his dreams to boast to his friends.

Morning Wind Street, No. 13 Alchemy Shop.

A bronze crucible bubbled steadily, pale blue vapor rising through the condenser, cooling into thick, deep-blue liquid.

Yude sealed the last vial of magical potion, glanced at the bright full moon outside, and sighed with satisfaction.

It was wonderful—he could finally contribute something to the Sage he truly revered.

Just thinking of it made the monkey-faced alchemist feel weightless, as joyful as if he’d drunk twilight tea.

He was addicted to helping the Sage—and willingly so.

Oh, right—the Sage had told him not to stay up late, saying it would let him serve longer.

I must obey the Sage’s command and sleep immediately.

Thinking this, Yude swiftly packed away his potions and materials, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers over himself.

Overcome by exhaustion, he felt a wave of drowsiness the moment he lay down, and soon fell into deep sleep.

Tap-tap.

Two faint knocks sounded outside the window, as if someone had tapped lightly with two fingers.

Yude, sound asleep, ignored it—but the knocking grew louder.

His brow furrowed; he could no longer endure the noise.

Swish!

“Who is it? Can’t you let a man sleep at this hour?!”

Yude flung off his blanket and leapt from bed, shouting angrily as he threw open the window.

To his surprise, standing outside was not a mischievous child, but two white mice, each holding a white envelope in their teeth.

In an instant, Yude’s anger turned to confusion and curiosity.

Mice delivering letters?

The alchemist recalled a story from childhood that once filled him with longing.

Coupling this with the excited chatter he’d heard from passersby upon returning from Chihu Fortress about a famous circus arriving, Yude immediately took the envelope from the mice’s mouths and read it.

“You are formally invited to the Monster Carnival under the Moonlight—a secret performance made solely for children.”

The moment he saw the blood-red script, Yude’s lips curled into a faint smile.

He confirmed it—this was the very thing he had dreamed of as a child: the Monster Circus invitation.

He had even once imagined joining the circus himself, for he, too, was seen by the world as a “monster.”

But could this invitation have been sent to the wrong person?

He was already eighteen years old!

“I’m an adult, not a child—did you deliver this to the wrong person?” Yude asked the two mice on the windowsill.

Both white mice shook their heads in unison; the one still holding the invitation stepped forward.

Clearly, they had come to deliver the invitation to Yude—and two of them, at once.

Yude fell silent for a moment, then tucked both invitations away; even as an adult, he still very much wanted to see the “monsters” perform.

And perhaps the extra invitation could be given to the Sage as a gift.

Before parting, Yude took some nuts from his cabinet and offered them to the two messenger mice.

The mice eagerly curled their tails around the nuts, then performed a lively tap dance for Yude, making the usually quiet alchemist burst into laughter before vanishing into the night.

Chihu Fortress, morning.

Dining hall.

The first rays of dawn pierced the stained-glass windows, casting dappled color onto the long oak table, where silver utensils gleamed.

“Sage, this is a gift for you.”

Xia Mingyu set down his knife and fork, took the white envelope from Yude with both hands.

He opened it, frowned at the blood-red script on the paper.

“What is this?”

“Your Highness, this is an invitation to the Monster Circus.”

Before Xia Mingyu could ask, Anliya behind him explained for Yude.

Then the golden-haired girl told Xia Mingyu the origins, legends, and deeds of the Monster Circus.

“A circus of deformed performers who perform free shows for children only.”

Xia Mingyu rested his chin on his hand, his handsome face filled with curiosity.

“Anliya, have you ever been to this circus?”

Hearing her recite the details so fondly, and seeing the faint smile on her face, Xia Mingyu realized she might once have been a guest.

“When I was a child, the Monster Circus performed in Minestone Town. After I received the invitation from the mouse, my adoptive father took me on a long journey to bring me to the circus gates.”

As if recalling those beautiful memories, Anliya’s smile grew sweeter.

“After entering the circus—”

Several years ago.

A young golden-haired Anliya stepped into the circus, cheering wildly at the performers’ dazzling acts, yet trembling in fear at their monstrous appearances.

In her stumbling excitement, she accidentally bumped into a female member.

The woman had long, deep-blue hair like a starry sky, gentle eyes, and an elegant aura—despite having six slender arms, she remained as beautiful as a figure from a painting.

“So beautiful!” little Anliya blurted out.

Hearing this, the woman smiled gently and spoke in a voice as soft as water:

“You’re beautiful too—the cutest little girl I’ve ever seen.”

Then the blue-haired woman took little Anliya’s hand and showed her every entertaining spot and performance inside the circus.

No matter how fearsome the circus member, upon seeing this blue-haired woman, would bow respectfully and call her “Big Sister,” and dare not scare Anliya, whom she held by the hand.

At the final act, the blue-haired woman took the stage, twirling six arms entwined with ribbons in a breathtaking dance.

Little Anliya below was utterly awestruck; she clapped until her palms turned red and still didn’t stop.

At parting, the blue-haired woman gave her a gift—a star ornament from her own hair.

“This one.”

In the dining hall, Anliya rolled up her sleeve to reveal a beautiful bracelet, one of its charms a tiny star.

“I treat it as a lucky charm and carry it with me always.”

The golden-haired girl flicked her slender wrist, the ornaments chiming merrily as she smiled.

“It does sound like a wonderful circus.”

After listening intently to Anliya’s tale, Xia Mingyu said eagerly.

“Indeed, I’d love to meet those circus members!” Yude added, his eyes alight with longing.

“Your Highness, if you wish to go, then go. You’ve stayed inside the fortress far too long.”

Seeing their eager expressions, Anliya smiled gently.

Hearing this, Xia Mingyu realized that since the Twilight Tea incident, he had remained cooped up inside Chihu Fortress, never stepping outside.

It had been Lady Luo Sha’s advice: hidden assassins might still lurk, so the safest place for the prince was within the fortress.

After all, Luo Yi, Luo Lan, and Ka Lun—the three New Moon Knights—now had their rooms arranged beside or one floor near his own.

Should they sense even the slightest disturbance, they would rush instantly into his room to protect him.

Although staying inside the castle was indeed safe, after so long cooped up, he decided he must go out for a change of pace.

“Anelia, is there anything you’d like me to tell that blue-haired woman?”

“Your Highness, please tell her that she gave a child the fulfillment of every childhood fantasy that day.”

The girl smiled sweetly as she slipped off her wrist bracelet and gently fastened it onto Xia Mingyu’s wrist.

At dusk, the full moon hung high, its silver glow cascading down like a thin veil draped over the city’s buildings.

Tap tap tap.

A luxurious carriage rolled along the road, its wheels crushing stone slabs with a dull, rhythmic rumble.

Inside the carriage.

“I’m just going to see a circus—do we really need all of you here?” Xia Mingyu said helplessly from the sofa, with Youde sitting stiffly beside him.

Opposite him on the sofa, Luo Yi, Luo Lan, and Karun were crammed together so tightly that the once-spacious seat now felt cramped.

“My Lord, Karun and the others mean well—please accept their protection. Your safety is of utmost importance.”

From the front compartment of the carriage, Boge’s respectful voice came through the curtain.

At this moment, the hunter boy was focused intently on driving for his Lord, striving to achieve the same smoothness as Karun.

“My Lord, as Boge said, your safety concerns the fate of the Southern Region and indeed all of Sosia. Considering the recent Dusk Tea incident and the madness of the Named Beast, I believe no amount of caution is excessive.”

Karun spoke in a low, firm tone, his sharply defined face set with resolve—he had already decided to follow and protect the Prince no matter how he refused.

Luo Yi glanced at Karun with envy; the man actually called the Prince “My Lord”—how envious.

Then Luo Yi joined in the plea:

“Yes, Your Highness, this isn’t just my personal wish—if my father were still alive, he’d demand I stand by you without ever leaving your side.”

“Please grant your permission, Your Highness.”

Seeing both had finished speaking, Luo Lan knelt cleanly on one knee.

“Please grant your permission, Your Highness!” x2

Xia Mingyu: “...”

Looking at the three Crescent Knights kneeling before him, he increasingly realized that when you become a leader of sufficient magnitude, you can no longer enjoy the freedom you once had as a lone individual.

For every action you take may affect countless lives—perhaps you truly must deliberate with the utmost care.

“I accept.”

City Square.

The square, which should have been pitch-black at this hour, was now brightly lit.

On one hand, the circus tent—occupying a full tenth of the square’s area—blazed with light, radiating brilliance outward.

On the other, it came from parents carrying oil lamps, escorting their children to the circus.

Some wore coarse hemp robes, clearly commoners; others were dressed in silk and brocade, arriving in lavish carriages.

Yet without exception, every child brought here—rich or poor—wore a radiant smile on their face.

In addition, several fire pits had been set up around the square to provide illumination, and nearly a hundred soldiers, led by transcendent knights, patrolled diligently to safeguard the children.

At the circus entrance, children cheered and waved their invitation tickets, forming a long line awaiting inspection.

When the tall figure of Xia Mingyu appeared in the line, he immediately drew the attention of every citizen in the square.

“Is that... a child of eight or nine?”

“A grown man sneaking in to see the circus? He has no shame at all.”

Parents escorting their children murmured among themselves; one burly middle-aged man even stormed forward, determined to drag away this brazen intruder.

Until, beneath the lamplight, he saw the man’s face.

“Ah! You’re the Sage!”

(End of Chapter)