Chapter 280: Temporal Interference

Su Shang tilted her head, examined Qingque closely, and didn't probe further.

"I see. It's fine; people often say I look like someone."

She smiled, even clasped fists with Qingque, "Well, I take my leave, Miss Diviner."

After speaking, she turned and quickly vanished into the crowd of Changletian.

Qingque was left standing alone, her heart still pounding wildly.

(Distant relative? My excuse is really terrible!)

(But… it's really too similar! It's as if carved from the same mold!)

(That's not right, Li Su Shang should be… uh, over "there"?)

(It's over, it's over, my mind's a mess… Should I, next time I "dream", directly ask the Marshal or that person herself?)

Qingque felt her aimless life slipping toward an abyss full of unsolved mysteries.

Xinghe and Walther walked along Luofu's distinctive streets.

Jizi stayed behind to coordinate the train, Dan Heng postponed joint action for personal reasons, so this advance party consisted only of the two of them.

Xing looked around curiously.

"Yang Shu,"

Xing suddenly spoke, breaking the silence, her tone unable to hide worry, "San Yue… where exactly will she go? And Black Tower Lady also, vanished without a sound."

She recalled that always energetic, pink‑haired girl who liked pulling her for photos, and felt empty inside.

Walther gently patted her shoulder, his voice warm and resonant: "Worry is normal, Xing. But don't be overly anxious. San Yue Qi carries potential and secrets even she hasn't fully realized, and Black Tower Lady is even more unfathomable. Their 'disappearance' doesn't necessarily mean danger; perhaps they just… encountered some special opportunity."

He tried to comfort her, though his own mind was full of doubts.

The successive anomalies shrouded this Xianzhou journey in a thick haze.

"Um…"

Xing nodded, but her brows remained furrowed.

To divert attention, perhaps subconsciously to share, she brought up another odd incident: "By the way, Yang Shu, I've been dreaming at night, going to that strange battle arena, and met a white‑haired girl named Qiana."

Walther's steps halted for a moment.

"Oh? What's up?" his tone was normal, but the fingers gripping his staff tightened slightly.

"She's amazing!"

Xing's tone became vivid, her golden eyes sparkling, "We were being chased and pounded by that guy called 'Flaming One', and then she seemed to suddenly… transform? Her hair floated, her eyes turned gold in an instant, super imposing! She could fly in the sky, summon a bunch of golden spears! In a flash she turned the battle around! Though that other guy went even crazier…"

She gestured, trying to describe the arrival of the Void Arbiter, but limited by cognition, could only convey the most immediate impression.

Walther fell silent.

The street's clamor seemed to fade away instantly, leaving only Xing's words echoing in his ears.

(Qiana… the second Herrscher's consciousness awakening… Saint Freya Academy era…)

(At this point in time… so on that timeline, it still remains here?)

(Xilin…)

Past memories surged like tides.

An unprecedented thought struck his mind like a thunderclap: if… if, through Xing's peculiar "dream" link, he could send a message to Qiana at that point in time, warning the future, could something be changed? Could it prevent her from suffering that pain? Could it stop some tragedies from occurring?

The idea was so tempting, yet so dangerous.

He deeply understood the paradoxes and costs of temporal interference.

A tiny disturbance could trigger a chain reaction, leading to even more unpredictable outcomes.

The direction of that world, perhaps already different from the history he knows, acting rashly—good or bad?

More importantly, as a member of the Star Rail, his duty is to protect the present journey and companions, not to act as a cross‑temporal savior.

Is it appropriate to involve Xing in such a massive risk that may involve temporal causality?

Weighing pros and cons, the boundaries of responsibility, regrets of the past and caution toward reality, fiercely clashed within his mind.

"Yang Shu? Yang Shu?"

Xing waved her hand before his eyes, looking puzzled at the suddenly pensive, furrowed‑browed Walther, "What's wrong with you? You look so serious. Did I say something wrong?"

Walther snapped back to attention, gazing at Xing's pure golden eyes, inhaled deeply, temporarily suppressing the raging tide within.

He pushed his glasses up, revealing a slightly complex, gentle smile.

"No, nothing. Just recalled some… things from a long time ago."

He skirted the heavy topic, turning to ask, "That Qiana… after the transformation, how did she seem? I mean, was her own consciousness still clear?"

"Hmm… she seemed a bit muddled, her tone changed, quite arrogant, but she didn't seem completely out of control?"

Xing tried hard to recall.

"…I see."

Walther felt a slight relief; at least the situation didn't immediately slide toward the worst.

He needed more information and needed to think more cautiously.

"Regarding that space and Qiana,"

Walther considered his words, telling Xing, "If possible, next time you dream again, pay close attention to details, especially any time, location, or key events she mentions. But remember, don't actively try to alter or predict anything; just record, okay? It could be… extremely important."

Xing, though not fully understanding why Yang Shu suddenly took her dream‑combat seriously, still obediently nodded, "Got it, Yang Shu. I'll keep an eye on it."

Walther looked toward Xianzhou's artificial sky, his gaze seeming to pierce the dome and reach into the unknowable depths of the cosmos.

An ordinary Exploration trip now seemed more complicated.

And now he must grip his staff tightly and take each step ahead properly.

"Let's go,"

he said to Xing, "The appointed time is near; don't keep those picking us up waiting too long."

Xinghe and Walther had just turned a corner when they saw, on a relatively quiet viewing platform ahead, a familiar figure with their back to them, gazing at the endless flow of the Starship Harbor below.

Brown long hair, an elaborate purple‑black dress, a Witch Hat, and a delicate yet expressionless profile — it was none other than the Black Tower.

"Black Tower Lady?!"

Xinghe exclaimed in surprise, hurrying forward, "How come you're here? We couldn't reach you earlier, we thought you..."

Black Tower turned at the sound, her face showing no particular emotion, merely saying in her usual haughty tone: "Finally you dawdled over. You're late compared to the plan…… well, 4 minutes and 37 seconds."

Walther pushed up his glasses, the look behind his lenses scrutinizing.

He could feel that the person before him had virtually the same aura and bearing as the Black Tower, but an intuition stirred a hint of doubt in his heart.

However, the feeling was too faint, and Black Tower herself always acted inscrutably, so he temporarily set aside his doubt.