Chapter 790: General Qing's Battle 1

Qingque lies on a Bubbles.

The Bubbles is not large, just enough to support Qingque's whole weight, its surface shimmering with a lapis‑blue glimmer, like an inflated soap bubble, so thin that through its curved surface one can see the endless golden flesh wall beneath.

Qingque's ash‑gray long hair spreads across the Bubbles' surface, with a few specks of golden pollen, of unknown origin, caught among the strands.

Her chest presses against the curved surface of the Bubbles, her heartbeat transmits through the thin bubble wall, stirring ever‑fine ripples in the liquid inside.

It seems she just had another dream.

In the dream she was in Shen Ce Fu, in front of all the important figures of Luofu, pressing Fu Xuan onto a chair.

Fu Xuan's lips were soft, carrying a faint tea scent, exactly the same as the taste she had encountered in dozens of previous dream‑within‑dreams.

Hehe.

Then her tongue was bitten, the pain made her snap up on the spot, she woke up—no, she didn't wake up!!!

She is still in this damned dream, still fighting that damned tree.

Her finger twitched, the fingertip pressed into the Bubbles' surface, the thin bubble wall slightly indented under her pad but did not rupture.

She inhaled deeply, a faint sweet scent with Abundance filling everywhere, even the Bubbles she created were tainted.

Qingque's consciousness switched from daze to alertness within a fraction of a second, Taixu Sword Heart humming in her chest, Patrol Hunt power surging through her vessels, every muscle, bone, and inch of skin in her limbs and body transmitting the same message—

Danger!

Qingque flips over abruptly.

She props herself on the Bubbles with one hand, thrusts her waist and abdomen, launching herself like a startled fish, her ash‑gray hair arcing through the air.

The moment she leaves the Bubbles, the Bubbles explodes.

The Bubbles makes no loud noise, only a soft "bo" before shattering, like a soap bubble pinched by a hand.

Yet at the instant of shattering, several razor‑thin blades shoot out from within the Bubbles, each blade woven from pure golden wooden fibers, so thin they are almost transparent.

They emerge from the Bubbles, then unfold like petals, slicing the bubble's remnants into fragments, which are then chased by more blades and cut into even smaller pieces.

Qingque's body flips in midair, her eyes catching the trajectories of those blades—twelve in total—encircling her from four directions, sealing every escape route up, down, left, and right.

She reaches out and grabs a handful of scattered jade cards nearby, a flick of her fingertip sends three jade cards soaring, each tracing a completely different arc in the air.

The first card collides with a blade thrust from the left, a lapis‑blue flash erupts, deflecting the blade's direction.

The second card slices in from the side, like a billiard shot, smashing two blades together.

The third card loops behind Qingque, lightly sticks to her back, then snaps upward, pushing her whole body up half an inch. A blade skims her shoe sole, slicing off the heel of her boot.

The heel spins twice in the air before another pursuing blade cleaves it in two.

"No way—"

Qingque draws a gasp of cold air, leans back, gravity re‑grabs her and begins pulling her down.

She drifts aimlessly in this golden space like a weightless object, ash‑gray hair fanning behind, her asymmetrical general's robe flapping noisily in the airflow.

A slit is cut into the ultra‑thin mist‑gray over‑knee sock on her left leg, revealing the cold‑white skin beneath, though no flesh is wounded.

Qingque reaches up, brushes a hand through her hair, pulling the strands that block her view backward.

As her palm brushes her temple, a speck of golden pollen sticks, she twirls it between her fingertips, crushing it.

Her lapis‑blue eyes open, the core of her pupils swirling with lapis‑blue light particles at high speed, like two nebulae compressed to the extreme.

Reflected in her pupils is the silhouette of that monster.

"Seriously!"

She mutters, her tone carrying the despair of gaming past midnight only to find the boss still has a third health bar, "How is this thing still not dead?"

The monster hovers about fifty steps below her.

Its humanoid outline stands three people tall, its whole body woven from pure golden wooden fibers.

Each fiber's surface circulates thick golden light fluid, a vertical mouth dominates the entire face, the slit running from forehead to chin; the lips part to reveal rows upon rows of stacked granular teeth, each tooth opening and closing with a click.

Behind it sprout dozens of branches of varying thickness, each ending in a flower.

At the heart of each flower a closed eye is set.

Qingque watches that vertical mouth; it contains at least several hundred teeth, each moving like a grinding meat‑mincer in operation.

She glances again at the jade card in her hand; the fish depicted on it swims leisurely, oblivious that its owner is about to be diced into fish‑flavored shredded pork.

"The Health Bar's thickness is absurd, but can those eyes stop looking at me? What are you looking at, never seen a beautiful girl?"

Qingque finishes the sentence in one breath, then kicks forcefully into the void beneath her foot.

The node under her foot is compressed into a transparent pressure surface, then springs open, launching her whole body like a cannonball.

At the exact moment she is launched, dozens of branches thrust toward her simultaneously.

The flowers at the ends of those branches all open their eyes; each pupil is blood‑red, the iris golden, and when opened, liquid oozes from the corners, dripping down the petals.

Dozens of eyes lock onto Qingque simultaneously, stabbing from various angles, the piercing speed so fast the air tears with a sharp whine.

Qingque continuously changes direction in the air.

Her body weaves through the gaps between branches like a swimming fish; she twists her left shoulder to dodge a branch thrust from the front, swivels her waist to evade another rising from below, and at the same time flicks her right hand backward, sending three jade cards arranged in a triangular formation, striking the branches pursuing from behind; the exploding lapis‑blue light deflects those branches.

Her ash‑gray long hair stretches into a straight line during high‑speed motion, the tips bursting into a dandelion‑like puff with each sudden stop or turn.

"Three on the left, five on the right, two on top, bottom—how are there still more below!"

Qingque grits her teeth and complains, her hands never stopping.

Her left hand makes a phantom grab in the air, and a dozen or so floating jade cards immediately respond, forming a rotating defensive array beside her.

A branch thrust from a lower blind spot strikes the defense array; the shield formed by jade cards cracks, but the fissure is instantly filled by other cards.

Qingque uses the impact's force to flip upward, her feet land on another branch sweeping from the side, she runs a few steps along its surface, then kicks hard, sending her whole body into a somersault in midair.

In the brief pause of the somersault she glances down at the situation below.

Those dark‑red things surge from all directions.

They are not branches, but finer things—threads!