Chapter 427: My

She couldn't even let out a decent shout; Huahuo rolled her eyes, swayed her body, fell straight backward, and with a "Splash" landed on the icy ground, completely losing consciousness.

Only the clear Salted Fish imprint on her face, and the slowly spreading, despair‑inducing strange odor, proved that what had just happened was not an illusion.

A Xing stood where she was, lowered her head to glance at the unconscious Huahuo on the ground, then looked at the Immortal Salted Fish in her hand marked "great achievement."

Her golden eyes still showed no emotion, and she calmly slipped the Salted Fish back into her pocket.

Then she reached into her pocket again, fumbled a moment, and pulled out a "small gift."

She bent down and gently placed the "small gift" on Huahuo's lapel.

Having done all that, A Xing straightened up, slipped both hands back into her pockets, as if she had merely completed an ordinary little task.

She gave the unconscious Huahuo one last glance, her face still expressionless, but she seemed to shake her head lightly, saying the purity was still too low.

Then she turned, walked with steady steps out of the Back Alley, and merged back into Pinokanni's never‑ending crowd.

Perspective shift.

Soft starlight cast dappled spots on the elegant round table.

Chang Ye Yue sat at one side of the round table draped with dark cloth, her Black Umbrella folded in hand, leaning against the chair back.

She lifted the almost untouched drink before her, took a gentle sip, then set it down—too sweet, not to her taste.

Opposite her sat the still elegant and mysterious Black Swan.

This luminescent memory‑keeper, a Remembrancer of the Flowing Light Hall, was stirring the dark liquid in the cup with fingertips gloved in long purple gloves, her gold‑purple shifting eyes holding a faint smile, falling on Chang Ye Yue as if admiring an unfinished ink memory painting.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Miss San Yue."

The Black Swan's voice was lazy and resonant, "The flavor here is indeed unique, it reminds one of some… bubbles sleeping deep in the subconscious."

"As long as you like it."

Chang Ye Yue's voice was calm, "It's getting late, I should be going. Uncle Yang and the others might still be waiting for me."

She said, as if preparing to stand.

"Oh? Leaving so soon?"

The Black Swan showed just the right amount of reluctance, yet did not try to stop her, "Chatting with Miss San Yue was pleasant, it felt… calmer and more tranquil than usual. I'll record this new experience carefully."

Chang Ye Yue gave a slight nod, as a response to that "compliment."

She stood and took the Black Umbrella leaning against the chair back.

Just as she was about to leave, she seemed to recall something, paused, reached with her other hand into the pocket of her black‑red dress, fumbled, and then pulled out something.

It was a stack of Mystic Cards.

A stack of finely crafted tarot cards.

"Almost forgot,"

Chang Ye Yue handed the stack of tarot cards to the Black Swan, her crimson eyes calm in the night, "This, too, is for you. Consider it… a small memento between fellow travelers."

The Black Swan's gaze narrowed slightly the instant her eyes met the stack of tarot cards, her gold‑purple pupils contracting a touch.

As a Remembrancer, she was unusually sensitive to such objects.

She could clearly sense that these tarot cards were far from ordinary crafts.

Each card seemed like a door to an unknown fragment of memory.

To her, it was an irresistible temptation.

Almost instinctively, she reached out, carefully taking the stack of tarot cards.

The instant her fingertip brushed the cards, a cold, profound sensation surged.

"This…"

The Black Swan, rarely showing such obvious surprise, lowered her head to examine the unexpected, precious gift in her hands; her smile became more genuine and vivid, "What a… delightful gift. Thank you so much, Miss San Yue. I will treasure this memento immensely."

She pressed the tarot cards lightly to her chest, expressing sincere gratitude.

Chang Ye Yue nodded, saying nothing more.

She opened the Black Umbrella, which perfectly shaded her upper body and face.

"Then, farewell, Miss Black Swan."

"Hmm, looking forward to our next meeting, Miss San Yue. Take care on the road."

Chang Ye Yue held the umbrella, turned, and walked away from the outdoor café with a composed stride.

The Black Swan stayed alone, still gently caressing the extraordinary tarot cards in her hand, a satisfied, lingering smile on her face.

She watched the direction where Chang Ye Yue vanished, light flickering in her eyes.

(Miss San Yue's new outfit… although completely different from her usual lively self, this calm, mysterious aura, combined with the black‑red colors and that umbrella… has quite a charm.)

Perspective shift.

【9】 The dawn light was faint, pale‑blue morning light filtered through the carved wooden lattice windows, softly spilling into the room.

The sky light faintly brightened; pale cyan morning light filtered through the carved wooden window lattice, gently spilling into the room.

Bai Hang groggily opened her eyes, a trace of sleep still lingering in her azure gaze.

She habitually stretched, her soft white hair spreading across the pillow.

Did she not sleep soundly last night?

Her mind was a mess, but she couldn't recall the specifics of the dream.

"It's morning…"

She murmured to herself, rubbed her eyes, yawned, and sat up from the warm, comfortable blankets.

She wore a soft white silk nightgown.

She was barefoot, stepping on the cold, smooth wooden floor, walked to the window, and reached out to push it open.

"Hoo—"

The crisp morning breeze rushed in instantly, carrying a damp scent, brushing the strands of hair by her cheek.

She perched on the windowsill, watching the Xianzhou streets and alleys gradually awaken.

In the distance, the densely arranged eaves and brackets were silhouetted in the morning light; nearby, early‑rising merchants were already arranging their stalls, and occasionally a Cloud Cavalry patrol squad passed by in orderly steps.

Everything appeared orderly, peaceful and harmonious.

"Hmm… comfortable."

Bai Hang squinted, enjoying the morning breeze, feeling her mood become fresh, and the inexplicable irritation from last night seemed to be blown away.

She left the windowsill, decided to go downstairs to wash up, then prepare breakfast.

She gently opened the door, descended the stairs, and arrived at the small living room on the first floor.

Sure enough, Xi Tong was already sitting there, cradling a steaming cup of tea, sipping it in small sips, their violet pupils quietly watching the outside.

"Good morning, Xi Tong," Bai Hang walked over and greeted.

Xi Tong turned his head at the sound, nodded to her, and in a Calm voice said, "Good morning, Baiheng Miss. Sai Fei Er has not yet woken up."

"Oh, I see."

Bai Hang nodded, walked to the small coffee table, and poured herself a cup of warm water.

She took a sip, suddenly remembered something, frowned, and asked uncertainly, "Xi Tong, last night… did something happen? I slept in a daze, seemed to hear some sounds? Or… did I have a nightmare?"

That fluttering feeling lingered faintly.

Xi Tong's hand holding the teacup paused.

"According to the indoor environment monitoring records, no abnormal events occurred last night. Baiheng Miss may have had more active dream activity, causing an illusion," Xi Tong said.

"Is that so? Maybe I really did have a nightmare…"

Bai Hang touched her head and accepted the explanation.

After all, while lurking on Xianzhou, one's heart is always a bit uneasy, so having odd dreams is normal.

She set down the cup and prepared to go to the bathroom to wash up.

She reached the bathroom door, grasped the handle, and gently pushed it open—

Inside the bathroom, there was a person.

The person stood with their back to the doorway, in front of the sink's mirror.

From the back, it appeared to be a woman, wearing a Western‑style funeral dress of intricate design, predominantly black, with layers of lace and silk outlining a slender waist, the skirt trailing on the ground.

She wore a small Top Hat adorned with black feathers and sheer veil.

At this moment, she was slightly lowering her head, shoulders trembling lightly, and a sob filled with endless sorrow echoed softly in the quiet bathroom.

Bai Hang's eyes widened instantly, her azure pupils filled with astonishment.

"Who… who are you?" Bai Hang's voice rose involuntarily, tinged with nervousness.

Hearing the voice, the sobbing stopped abruptly.

The figure in the funeral dress turned around extremely slowly.

Bai Hang saw the other's face—no, more precisely, she saw what covered the other's face.

A red, exaggeratedly distorted crying Mask was tightly affixed to the face.

From the Mask's eye sockets hung black lace veil.

"My… Akivili…"

A choked, trembling voice, as if squeezed from a abyss, came from behind the Mask, indistinct.

Bai Hang was so frightened her heart missed a beat, her hair standing on end!

Before she could react, the figure wearing the red crying Mask suddenly flung its arms wide, like a Despair‑filled person lunging for a lifeline, and lunged at her!

"My Akivili—!!!"

The sharp, twisted, obsession‑laden shout nearly pierced the eardrums!

"Yaa—!!!"

Bai Hang's scream erupted uncontrollably from her throat!

She instinctively tried to step back and dodge, but tripped, and her body fell backward—

Everything before her shattered like a broken mirror, collapsing instantly!

"Hoo—Ha—!"

Bai Hang sprang up from the bed, gasping heavily, cold sweat covering her forehead and back, her heart pounding in her chest as if about to explode.

Her azure eyes were filled with lingering terror.