Chapter 741: Playing Cards Too Much

The veteran walked at the front, his hand pressing on the hilt of his sword.

His legs were still trembling, but his professional instinct told him that until the escort Task was finished, he could not leave.

Even if the opponent was many levels stronger than him, even if that pressure just now almost stopped his heart.

That is the rule of the Cloud Cavalry: once you take a Task, you must stay until the end.

At the rear of the squad, a young Cloud Cavalry rider leaned close to his comrade and whispered, "Is it true that Miss Qingque's hair has turned a little white…?"

No one answered him.

The veteran turned his head, glared at him, and conveyed a brief command with his gaze: Shut Up (Cocktail Technique), walk.

Qingque ahead did not hear any of this.

If she had heard, she would probably just tilt her head in confusion.

Her eyes half‑open, everything in her sight was still veiled by a layer of freshly awakened mist.

The tea house by the street exhaled the sweet scent of Immortal Happy Tea, the nearby mahjong hall rang with the clatter of shuffling tiles, and a few old men squatting by the road, engrossed in a chess move that made their faces flush, receded slowly in her view.

She felt something was off.

The weight of the air had changed, the feel of the wind on her skin was different, even the angle of sunlight reflecting off the stone pavement was unlike before.

Was it her eyes that were faulty, or had the world truly changed?

She was too lazy to think.

Not far ahead, the gate of Shen Ce Fu already appeared at the edge of her sight.

Stone‑carved auspicious beasts perched on the steps beside the gate, their faces solemn.

Qingque swayed as she walked toward the gate, and the seven Cloud Cavalry riders behind her halted in unison.

The veteran inhaled deeply and, in as steady a voice as possible, shouted, "Miss Qingque, Shen Ce Fu is here; we are unable to escort further, we withdraw now."

Qingque did not look back.

She merely raised a hand, waved it casually, as if acknowledging.

Then she continued to drift toward Shen Ce Fu, her ponytail swaying lightly behind her shoulders.

The seven Cloud Cavalry riders stood where they were, watching her silhouette, and in unison swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

The veteran tucked his helmet under his arm; the dent gouged by a fingernail earlier remained, a shocking sight.

The young Cloud Cavalry beside him finally blurted out the words he had held back.

"Those two incidents on the Star Chariot were definitely not coincidences. One person might call it coincidence, but when a whole group feels it, it isn't coincidence."

Another rider responded in a deep voice.

"Miss Qingque certainly has hidden strength. Who could have guessed before today, the slacker from Tai Bu Si."

He paused, his lips moving twice, then chose the phrase he felt fit best: "Terrifying as this."

"One cannot judge a person by appearance, nor measure the sea with a bucket."

The veteran sighed sincerely, his voice hoarse from surviving a calamity.

He put the helmet back on, fastened the jaw strap, turned to rejoin his unit, and suddenly halted his steps.

His gaze lingered on the petite figure drifting farther away in the distance.

Sunlight fell on Qingque's hair; the brown strands shimmered with an almost invisible gray‑white hue, spreading from the tips upward like the frosted edges of a leaf, a small strip that vanished fleetingly in the bright light.

He removed his helmet, wiped his eyes, and when he looked again, the figure had already turned into the side entrance of Shen Ce Fu, a flash of clothing disappearing behind the crimson doorframe.

He fell silent for a moment, and in the end said nothing.

No one would believe such a story if told.

A slacking Diviner eliminated three demon Yin bodies in an instant; the pressure radiating from the Star Chariot was a level above the General's drawing his sword. He felt he had already endured enough stimulation today, and could ponder the remaining questions another day.

His trouser crotch was still damp.

Perspective shift.

At the entrance of Shen Ce Fu, two guards stood left and right, their armor warmed by the sun, bored enough to start counting how many sparrows perched on the opposite eave.

Then they saw Qingque.

The petite figure swayed in from the direction of Changletian, steps soft as if walking on cotton, brown twin ponytails gently flicking in front of her shoulders.

One guard's eyes lit up; he nudged his comrade with his elbow and lifted his chin toward that direction.

"Isn't that Miss Qingque? Came to Shen Ce Fu to… no, came to find the General for a chat."

He almost said the words "slacking off," but his tongue twisted and he stopped.

His comrade followed his gaze, looked over, and nodded.

Diviner Qingque of Tai Bu Si is a familiar face to Shen Ce Fu gate guards—no need to report or check a token. They encounter her three to five times a week, sometimes to deliver files, sometimes to report to General Jingyuan; after reporting, she naturally finds a corner nearby to slack off playing cards, and being caught on the spot by Fu Xuan of Tai Bu Si is not the first or second time.

When Qingque reached the doorway, the leading guard stepped forward half a step, grinned, and said, "Miss Qingque, you're here? Looking for the General?"

Qingque lifted her head.

Her emerald eyes half‑lowered, pupils showing no emotion; she stared at the guard's face for two beats, then nodded.

"The General is inside."

The guard gestured inward, "There are several other dignitaries inside, seems they're in a meeting. Please go in."

Qingque nodded again.

As she stepped over the threshold, her foot didn't lift high enough; the tip of her boot knocked the threshold, causing her to lurch forward half a step, then she straightened and continued inside, her expression unchanged the whole time.

The two guards watched her silhouette pass through the front courtyard.

Sunlight fell on Qingque's hair, the brown strands shimmering with a layer of gray‑white.

From the tips upward it spread, like frost‑kissed leaf edges, appearing slightly larger than before.

One guard scratched the back of his head.

"Miss Qingque, isn't your condition today a bit off? Usually when she arrives she at least says 'hi' or picks 'good morning', 'good afternoon', or 'good evening'. Just now she sounded like she hadn't woken up."

You've been playing cards too much, huh?

Another person waved their hand dismissively, "Tai Bu Si hasn't been that busy lately; I bet she stayed up late again last night. The last time I ran into her at the Changletian teahouse, she was playing mahjong alone with three old men until the early hours."

Really...

The guard who spoke first watched the back of the person going through the second gate, his eyes narrowing slightly, and said, "Speaking of Miss Qingque's hair, wasn't it that white before? I remember her hair being brown, completely brown."

Now that you mention it...

The other also narrowed their eyes and looked over.

That petite figure had already stepped onto the stone stairs leading to the central hall.

On either side of the stone steps stood rows of potted plants; their green leaves contrasted against her back, making her hair color more striking. The ends were still brownish, but from the roots downward, patches of grayish white had spread to the level of her ears, seeping down inch by inch.

Has the recent pressure been too much? After the Giant Tree Rebirth, Tai Bu Si must be swamped, running around nonstop.

Does she look stressed? Her steps are light, as if she'd just been carried out of a teahouse.

That's also true.

The two exchanged a glance, simultaneously shrugged, and temporarily tucked away that indescribable sense of unease.

One benefit of being a soldier for a long time is knowing when to let go of doubts, especially when standing guard at the gate of Shen Ce Fu.