Chapter 25: Xi Yue

She knew Liu-ge—the experimenter who had followed Mu Wenxin the longest, senior in rank, gifted in the lab, and Mu’s proudest subordinate.
When Mu first adopted her, Mu had only been a deputy director. Now she was the full director.
If Mu kept climbing, the director’s chair would eventually be Liu-ge’s.
Liu-ge glanced left and right. When he saw no one watching, he exhaled and cut in at once: “Xiao Kui, this dataset is taboo in the department. Never mention it in front of the director.”
Xiao Kui nodded fast, head bobbing like a drum.
“I heard the two of them met a few days ago. The director came back and ordered the old file pulled—she’s planning to restart the experiment.”
Liu-ge frowned again, thinking. “The director and that foster daughter of hers—hard to say. I’ve been at the director’s side for years and I still can’t read her mind.”
Xiao Kui was lost. She flipped the file open at random and saw the danger-rating column at a glance.
“Liu-ge, what does an SSS danger-rated subject actually mean?” Xiao Kui leaned closer, voice low. “I’ve assisted on a few runs. Ordinary subjects top out at A. Why is her foster daughter so high?”
“In simple terms—a timed bomb with insane yield,” Liu-ge said. “The high-level subject named Yi Ke isn’t fully human. She’s powerful on her own, and her state is wildly unstable. If she ever goes completely out of control—reason hits zero—”
Xiao Kui asked: “Then what?”
“One flick of a finger and all of Jintian City could go with her.”
“Oh my god!” Xiao Kui sucked in a breath, voice still pressed flat so no one else noticed. “That’s terrifying… and the director still wants to restart the experiment?”
“Don’t panic. The director planned for this long ago.” Liu-ge gave a cold laugh. “So she’s strong? For years the director’s been dosing her with ability-suppressants. Right now she’s at most an ordinary ability user—or a hair above that.”
He patted Xiao Kui’s shoulder. “We do what the director says. Do it well, keep her happy, and maybe she’ll put in a good word for us with the bureau chief.”
Xiao Kui nodded, half understanding, and set the file on the desk—right beside where Yi Ke was hidden.
That let her see the restriction shimmering on the cover.
No wonder Xiao Kui hadn’t filed it away properly but left it lying open.
Mu was cautious by nature and loved encrypting documents. This file carried Mu’s ability-lock—only experimenters cleared for this project could read the contents.
If she forced the file out of the lab, it would turn to ash the moment she crossed the door. Not a trace left.
Since she couldn’t take the file and couldn’t learn anything more useful, she stopped wasting time.
Mu had lied to her for years. A fire had been banked in her chest; now she had somewhere to put it.
Still hidden, she gathered power in her palm and set fire to the lab’s main circuit.
The next second sparks exploded across the room, racing along benches and sample racks. In moments the lab was a sea of flame.
Alarms shrieked through the Ability Bureau. Inside the lab it was chaos—everyone running for their lives.
She watched from the shadows, cold. Only when the lab had burned clean did she turn and leave.
Want to restart the experiment? Burn the data first—let’s see you restart anything now.
If Mu wanted to hurt her, she would stand against the bureau.
Back at the apartment, Bai Yanci still wasn’t home.
She lay in the room and waited until sleep pulled her under.
In the dream she came to the moon palace again.
Unlike before, she had no body this time—only a projector’s view.
She saw a young Bai Yanci with another woman in the moon gardens, chasing butterflies.
The moon had few pastimes; catching butterflies was one of the rare amusements immortals had.
“Xi Yue, let’s go over there!”
“All right.” The immortal called Xi Yue answered.
The scene shifted. Hand in hand they came to the long steps outside the moon chapel.
Xi Yue stopped and turned her head. “Yanci, have you thought about what you want to do later?”
“Train hard, of course. Become a great immortal the Lord can rely on—share his burdens.” Bai Yanci didn’t hesitate; her eyes burned. “How many immortals dream of that honor?”
Xi Yue was quiet a long while. Bai Yanci leaned closer. “And you? What do you wish for? You’re a fallen god—you were born stronger than us. Don’t you want to use that strength for something?”
Xi Yue only smiled. With a lift of her hand, immortal light flowed; brushes and paints appeared and spread in the sun.
She took up a brush. The soft tip caught color in the light; her eyes held the sky and a pure longing for what was ahead. “Yanci, look—this is my wish.”
Bai Yanci stared, stunned. That was the first time she had touched painting.
Xi Yue brought color into her gray life and pushed her to pick up a brush and paint the world she imagined.
Only when she truly became a great immortal did she understand—freedom and fairness were nothing like the moon palace now.
Honor was fantasy. Xi Yue had been right.
After the war in the immortal realm, the moon palace was struck. A corner of the Spirit Tide jade pendant broke; only a fallen god’s soul sacrifice could repair it.
Of the four great immortals, only Xi Yue was a true fallen god.
The Lord sent Xi Yue at once to offer fallen-god power and soul to mend the pendant.
When Bai Yanci heard, she knelt outside the hall day after day. The Lord had made up his mind—he would not see her.
Bai Yanci knelt and cried out: “My Lord, let me give my soul in her place!”
The Lord only tossed back: “Xi Yue is a fallen god. What are you, that you think you can replace her?”
Yes—Xi Yue was a fallen god.
She was an ordinary immortal who had clawed her way to great-immortal rank through years of practice. What right did she have to take Xi Yue’s place?
Pleading failed. She stood and ran to Spirit Tide Pool.
The pool water was already spreading, charged with the artifact’s power. It had taken countless moon-dwellers’ lives.
Xi Yue stood at the edge. Hearing familiar steps, she turned: “Yanci, you’re here at last.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Bai Yanci couldn’t hold it in; tears poured. “The Lord is heartless. It’s my fault—I couldn’t make him change his mind…”
“Silly. How is that your fault?” Xi Yue laughed softly and wiped the tears from her face. “If not me, what about all those lives in the moon palace?”
Bai Yanci’s voice shook: “That’s for the Lord to answer—not us! What did you do wrong? Nothing. You’re only paying because you’re a fallen god—is that reason enough to die for the moon’s grand plan?”
After a long pause she seized Xi Yue’s wrist. “Xi Yue, let’s go. Anywhere. Don’t stay in the moon palace. You were right—the Lord is cruel and bloodthirsty. Staying at his side only gets innocents killed!”
“But where would we go? He’ll have people watching every move.” Xi Yue smiled. “Even if we left the moon, the immortal realm would post warrants. Capture would only be a matter of time.”
“Then we run!” Bai Yanci’s eyes held desperate resolve. “Run to the mortal world—anywhere! The world is wide. There has to be a place for us!”
Xi Yue shook her head gently. “Yanci, I won’t drag you into danger with me.”
She raised her hand. A half-transparent barrier rose between them in an instant.
Moon immortals excelled at barrier arts; Xi Yue was their master.
Bai Yanci beat on the wall, voice breaking: “Xi Yue, what are you doing!”
On the other side Xi Yue looked at her one last time—eyes soft as water, and utterly firm.
“I’ll do what I must.” Xi Yue said quietly, “Yanci… goodbye.”
Power gathered in Xi Yue’s palm. The sacrifice array opened; all her consciousness and soul became force to mend the artifact and poured into the Spirit Tide jade pendant.
In the last moment before her soul scattered, the barrier shattered. Bai Yanci reached her at last.
Xi Yue mustered her last strength and cupped Bai Yanci’s face with solemn care. “Yanci, please forget me.”
The words had barely left her when hot tears fell again. She looked at Bai Yanci’s agony and shook her head hard.
“No… I take it back.” She laughed, but the smile was drowned in tears—nothing left of its old brightness. “Yanci, let me be selfish. Use the rest of your life… to remember me.”
Bai Yanci’s tears broke free: “Yes, Xi Yue, I promise—anything you ask.”
She gripped Xi Yue’s wrist as it went transparent, voice hoarse, shaking with despair: “Can you not go? Don’t leave me…”
There was no answer.
Xi Yue’s form broke into countless points of light like stars, scattered on the wind, and at last sank into the Spirit Tide jade pendant—one corner of the artifact, fixed forever.
So she hated the pendant, hated the ruler on high, hated a fate so unjust.
Because Xi Yue was a fallen god, the one in power treated her as a convenient tool—and she, and only she, had to die for the moon’s design?
No. That wasn’t fair.
She took Xi Yue’s Qiyang Sword, walked into the great hall, and cut down the Lord’s closest followers to the last.