Chapter 788: Excuse?

Sai Fei Er covered her face with both hands, her eyes flashing from the gaps between her fingers: "I was delivering documents at the Tai Bu Si at that moment, and I saw it with my own eyes! Qingque just laughed then, a light laugh, saying I wasn't just going to buy you dinner. Then Fu Xuan lowered his head and, in front of everyone, lightly tapped Qingque's forehead with her index finger, imprinting a tiny gesture that only the two of them understood. The gesture lasted about two seconds, but during those two seconds the entire Tai Bu Si was so quiet you could hear every heartbeat. The tea cup the old Diviner held in the corner froze mid‑air, forgotten both to set down and to lift to his lips.

Sai Fei Er paused at that point, and Tail arced proudly behind her.

She looked at Dan Heng's face, which had completely given up on expression control, then at Huo Huo's eyes flashing a "keep going" light, and cleared her throat.

"Later I only learned more details from the old Diviner at the Tai Bu Si,"

Her tone shifted from "storytelling" to "gossip sharing": "Every time Qingque was punished to copy files, it was actually Fu Xuan's doing. Because only when she's forced to copy does Qingque obediently stay at the Tai Bu Si and not leave, allowing Fu Xuan to see her as soon as he looks up. Think about it: a diviner whose daily paperwork piles up like a mountain, yet he'd rather have Qingque copying there than let her go out of his sight. While Qingque was copying, she started to nod off; the brush slipped from her hand, her face almost pressed to the paper, and Fu Xuan set aside the divination diagram he was holding, walked over, and gently pressed her head into his shoulder hollow so she could lean and sleep. Then Fu Xuan would take off his outer robe and drape it over Qingque, continue standing beside her to stamp official documents, just standing there stamping because Qingque was leaning on him and he couldn't bear to move. Sometimes when Qingque was half‑asleep, she'd nuzzle into Fu Xuan's neck hollow, her nose touching the small patch of skin above his chest, muttering an unintelligible phrase. Fu Xuan would freeze, his whole body flushing from neck to ear root, but the pen in his hand kept mechanically drawing circles, those circles crooked and twisted, a world away from his normally neat handwriting."

Sai Fei Er said it until her ears turned red, and her cat Tail puffed into a ball of fur behind her.

Dan Heng already didn't know what to say.

He tried to tell himself it was fabricated, but his knowledge of Fu Xuan was limited to the label "Head of the Tai Bu Si," and his Cognition of Qingque was zero; he had no evidence to refute Sai Fei Er's words.

He could only stand there, letting those descriptions pile into his mind brick by brick.

Worse still, Sai Fei Er's ability kept working; the more she spoke, the more Dan Heng felt the scenes as if they were happening before his eyes, vivid enough to smell the lily scent inside the Tai Bu Si.

Sai Fei Er watched Dan Heng's "brain rebooting" expression, her cat ears perked up happily, about to add a third little story, when a dull thud sounded from ahead.

Then a harsh screech of metal scraping stone tiles followed.

All three's attention was drawn there at once.

About thirty steps ahead, at the dock's fork, another group of Meme Bodies was surrounding a person.

The few Meme Bodies, about seven or eight, were fewer than the batch Dan Heng had just faced, but their movements were more savage; their joints twisted into strange angles, armor fragments on their bodies creaked under golden Abundance energy, and their eye sockets were filled with glowing golden patterns.

The person in the middle leaned his back against the outer wall of the dock warehouse, apparently holding a weapon in his hand, but the Meme Bodies blocked the view.

Sai Fei Er squinted, her cat ears turned forward, and gauged the distance and numbers.

"Looks like there's another job."

Her Tail tip drew a circle in the air, then she turned to Dan Heng, tilted her head, a fang flashing at the corner of her mouth, "Dan, this time let me—"

"No need."

Dan Heng uttered those two words so fast it was almost a reflex.

His hand had already pressed the Cloud‑Striker's barrel, and a fleeting, hard‑to‑pinpoint glint flashed in his dark‑green pupils.

"You and Huo Huo stay here,"

he added, trying to keep a strictly business tone, but speaking at least thirty percent faster than usual, "I'll handle it."

He moved the instant he finished speaking.

The Cloud‑Striker spun half a circle in his palm, its barrel tapped the ground lightly, and he vaulted forward.

He surged across the stone slab faster than when he dealt with the first batch of Meme Bodies—at least twenty percent faster—not because the foes were stronger, but because he needed a brief respite from Sai Fei Er's voice.

Even facing seven or eight raging Meme Bodies head‑on was far easier than standing beside that cat and listening to her keep gossiping about Luofu's upper echelons.

The Meme Bodies let out hoarse roars, their bodies contorting beyond normal limits; one's upper half folded back from the waist at a ninety‑degree angle, attacking Dan Heng in a completely reverse‑human configuration.

Dan Heng sidestepped, swung the Cloud‑Striker's barrel horizontally, and its tip struck precisely at that Meme Body's knee socket.

The dull thud of metal hitting bone hadn't faded when he used the momentum to flip and leap, the barrel tip carving a silver arc in the air, cleanly slicing off the Abundance vines spreading on another Meme Body's arm.

His movements flowed like clouds and water, each strike precise, yet the last sentence Sai Fei Er had said kept looping in his mind.

"Fu Xuan pressed Qingque onto a chair"—stop.

Focus.

Dan Heng clenched his teeth, the barrel tip pierced the armor gap of the third Meme Body, and with a reverse swing he flung the twisted form, crashing it into two others.

He was now genuinely pondering, after clearing these Meme Bodies, what excuse he could use to slip away temporarily.

The thought rippled through his combat rhythm.

Excuse—what excuse?

"Say there's something on the Star‑Arc Train?"

"Say Walter is waiting for him?"

"Say he suddenly remembered an important piece of intel that must be verified immediately?"

Dan Heng, while thinking, held the Cloud‑Striker horizontally before him, Blocking a side‑swinging claw, knees slightly bent, waist and abdomen driving power, he bounced the attacker away.

The Meme Body's claw scraped the barrel's surface, sparking a string of teeth‑aching sparks.

He fought earnestly, yet his mind was still drifting for an excuse.

It was Dan Heng's first distraction in combat in centuries, and not a tactical one—he was pondering how to dodge a cat.

He evaded the fourth Meme Body's lunge, crouched low, slipped to its side, the barrel tip tapped the ground for leverage as he flipped, and kicked the Meme Body's back.

The twisted body flew out, slammed onto the stone slab, skidding several meters before stopping.

Three remained.