Chapter 878: Self-Awareness

Qingque took a deep breath and stepped forward again, retaking the half‑step she had just withdrawn.

She emerged from the alley, stood at the edge of the clearing, trying to make her movements look relaxed and casual, as if she had run into a colleague on the street and stopped to say hello.

She even raised her right hand in a wave toward Huo Huo, a moderately curved smile tugging at her lips.

She pretended nothing was wrong.

"Hey, Miss Huo Huo, what a coincidence. You're out for a walk here too?"

She deliberately kept her tone very even.

After speaking, she flicked a sidelong glance at the kneeling shadow demon bodies around her, then quickly withdrew her gaze, pretending she hadn't seen anything.

The shadow demon bodies remained perfectly still, and the one nearest her had a torn cloth draped over its back, looking like a shop's door curtain ripped from somewhere.

It stayed in a prone posture, motionless, and Qingque could see a dim crimson glimmer leaking from the cracked skin fissure on its rear neck.

Huo Huo gave no reply to her small talk.

She simply stood there, tilting her head, the faint smile still hanging on her face.

Her right hand grasped the small Command Flag, the wooden handle turning lightly between her fingertips.

Qingque swallowed, a gurgle sound coming from her throat.

The other's silence made her heart race again, but she decided to keep pressing, using her specialty: filling the scene with a flood of seemingly casual yet wholly probing chatter, leaving no chance for an unexpected move.

"Um, Miss Huo Huo, what are you doing here? Isn't this area sealed off? I was wandering alone and just thought of finding a place to rest. By the way, I heard Xueyi Judge mention she was looking for you—the one from Ten Kings Office, the pale, expressionless one, you know? She was just at the Pill Cauldron Office, seemed to be searching for you. If it's convenient, would you like to—"

"So."

Huo Huo's voice, light and soft, cut her off.

The tone was the same, but Qingque's mouth shut automatically.

Because as Huo Huo said those two words, she stepped forward.

The flag's tail ribbon swayed gently with her step.

"How did you fall into a shadow demon body?"

Qingque froze.

Her body stayed in the slight forward lean from speaking, her mouth half‑open, ready to speak but frozen there.

The evening wind swept across the clearing, tossing the stray hairs on her forehead; a few strands drifted into her mouth, and she didn't even flinch.

She felt her brain as if someone had yanked the power cord, all thoughts halting in an instant, leaving only snow‑flake specks on the screen.

The first thing that surged up was cold.

Cold poured from the back of her neck downward, flowing segment by segment along her spine.

The earlier fear and panic, upon hearing the words "shadow demon body" spoken by Huo Huo in that soft, syrupy tone, were washed clean.

Only chill remained.

It stayed silent for a full five seconds.

Then Qingque's mouth finally moved again.

"—Ha?"

The syllable that emerged from her throat carried a tremor even she found unfamiliar.

She blinked several times, her jade‑green almond eyes full of unguarded astonishment and total incomprehension.

She extended her left hand, gesturing across her chest, then pointed at her face, drawing a chaotic circle in the air.

"Miss Huo Huo, you… What did you just say? Shadow demon body? Me?"

She said the two words separately, pausing after each as if checking she hadn't misheard, "Is there some misunderstanding? I'm Qingque, Qingque of Tai Bu Si, the one who's always goofing off—remember? Look, lively and bouncing, can talk, can walk, hair still brown—"

She reached up to pull a strand of her hair forward, glanced at the tip, confirming the color was still brown‑ish.

Then she released, letting her ponytail snap back, spread her hands, and let out two light chuckles.

"Miss Huo Huo does love joking. You really gave me a scare. A shadow demon body… how could I possibly—"

Before she could finish, Huo Huo raised an eyebrow.

Then Huo Huo spoke to herself, voice light, as if addressing the Command Flag in her hand rather than Qingque.

"And self‑awareness?"

She tilted her head, her jade‑green eyes glowing faint yellow, scanning Qingque from head to toe.

From head to foot and back to head, finally fixing on Qingque's pupils.

"Interesting."

Qingque felt her blood sinking downwards.

Though frightened, an indescribable sense of dissonance seeped from every detail of Huo Huo.

The opponent's stance remained petite, but her aura had completely changed.

Especially that smile—mouth corners curved, yet the eyes didn't smile along.

Qingque had only seen that expression once in Tai Bu Si's archive room, in an old file documenting Solar Yang Possession cases, where a similar phrase described the possessed person's "smile".

Then Huo Huo spoke again, tone airy.

"Confused? Panicked? Heh, seems you still don't know your condition."

She lifted her right hand, the small Command Flag fluttering lightly in the air, barely a wrist's motion, not even stirring the wind.

Yet the instant the flag's tail fell, the ground before Qingque silently split open, a flood of dim light gushing from the fissure, the light coalescing in the air within two seconds into a massive mirror.

The mirror's surface was smooth as water, reflecting the evening sky and her standing before it.

Qingque was startled by the sudden mirror, stepping back three paces.

Her first reaction was—ambush!

Her hands already groped empty at her waist; she realized the jade‑jade card hadn't been drawn, having tucked it back into her sleeve earlier.

She reflexively assumed a Blocking stance, weight sinking, knees slightly bent, her whole body taut like a fully drawn bow.

Then she saw herself in the mirror.

It wasn't the version of herself with a brown‑mahogany ponytail, emerald almond eyes, a black sleeveless knit shirt under a short, cinched cyan jacket.

The person in the mirror had long, gray‑white hair.

The hair fell over the shoulders, the ends withered and split, like a stalk of dried grass struck by winter frost, swaying lifelessly in the evening's cold wind.

Her once clear, emerald almond eyes had turned a dim, lightless dark green, the pupils clouded, the light within as if sucked away, like the bottom of two long‑dried wells, leaving only a layer of water that could no longer reflect.

Even her skin tone shifted from fair to a cold, gray‑white.

But what held her gaze most were the things sprouting from her body.

Flower branches.