Chapter 32: Righteousness

She seemed to sink into a deep dream.
Endless dark. Then light, then warmth; sound sharpened until it hurt—
“It was her! I saw it—she killed everyone!”
“She brought misfortune! Execute her!”
“A witch of the evil god—heaven and earth reject her!”
Accusations and curses rose and deafened her, dragging her from the vision.
Half awake she opened her eyes. Many people closed in—dress from another age.
Elaborate hair, ancient clothes, torches in hand, hatred in every eye.
She was bound to a pillar. Fire burned below—they meant to burn her alive.
The oldest punishment.
The flames didn’t hurt.
Their angry stares and poison words hurt worse.
She strained and had strength for three words: “Not… me.”
Each word tore from her chest—knife peeling layer by layer.
No one heard her call.
Even if they heard, no one would listen. They only wanted her death faster—her death their cheer.
“Burn her! Burn her!”
“Burn the evil god’s witch!”
She knew her life was long. She would not die in this fire.
In the blaze a cool voice seemed to cross time into her ear.
She listened long before she caught the urgent line: “Ke-ke, don’t listen to those voices!”
Who… was that?
Her mind wandered at the edge of dark. The voice seemed to soothe the wound in her chest.
Warm. Familiar.
“Ke-ke!” Again—the pull from sealed mud into light.
She remembered. All of it.
The voice was Bai Yanci. Her lover.
When she opened her eyes Bai Yanci sat beside her.
Relief only when she woke: “You’re awake. How do you feel?”
“What… happened to me?” She tried to recall and her head ached. “Why was I unconscious? I remember—the bureau, Mu, the disordered space…”
Memory stopped there. Nothing more.
Bai Yanci looked down. “If you can’t remember, don’t force it.”
She sat up slowly, mind clearing. “Were those things in the dream my lost memories?”
“No. Just a nightmare.” Bai Yanci said softly. “Don’t dwell. Rest well.”
“All right.”
But deep inside a voice kept repeating: You hold fallen-god power. Gods can recall the past and foresee the future.
The source was the cursed ruby from the disordered space—the only thing she’d brought out.
She thought of Jade Dust’s odd words that day—and the blood on her face and hands. Her stomach heaved; she retched at the bed’s edge but still couldn’t remember.
“Sister, what really happened…” She looked at Bai Yanci again.
Bai Yanci stayed silent—only gentle eyes, no answer.
Every question after she woke, Bai Yanci looked away. That unease made her trust the inner voice more.
Since gods could recall the past, as fallen god she could too.
This was part of her lost memory.
Why hide it from her? What had happened?
She tried to stand. Pain exploded at her chest. Vision blacked—she fell to the floor.
Bai Yanci caught her, eyes wide, hands forming seals—a small array, moon detection art.
“It’s the Spirit Tide Pearl. It chose you on its own—set in your heart.” After a long moment Bai Yanci withdrew power, voice heavy. “Where did you find it?”
“The disordered space. On a statue—the pearl was in the statue’s heart.”
“Statue?” Bai Yanci’s face tightened. “What did it look like?”
“Beautiful. Lifelike. Three meters tall. Merciful expression. Like an ancient deity.” She grabbed draft paper and sketched the outline. “Roughly this.”
Bai Yanci sucked in a breath at the sketch. “So it was Milt.”
“Milt?” She had never heard the name.
“Legend says Milt lived in the gods’ age and governed mortal lives. In the great war Milt went mad, chose to fall as an evil god, and was sealed by the gods together—cast into the mortal world.”
In the dream she’d heard evil god.
People from another time hated her, wanted her dead, called her the evil god’s witch.
“Is the gods’ seal eternal?” she asked. “If Milt broke free—another war?”
“Tens of thousands of years have passed, and the gods’ seal remains. Even an evil god’s cultivation would be scattered.”
If Milt was the only evil god of antiquity, the archives should record it.
Why a statue of Milt in the disordered space? Why the Spirit Tide Pearl in its heart to guard the space? How long had they lain in the mortal world?
She asked again: “Spirit Tide Pearl and Spirit Tide jade pendant—the names are so close. Are they related?”
“The pearl, like the pendant, is an ancient artifact. Only a fallen god can wield the pearl’s power. In an ordinary immortal’s hands—even as artifact—it has no effect.”
“So when I touched it, it chose me and merged.”
Bai Yanci nodded. “Exactly.”
Jade Dust had said the space was a set trap to open the gate. Jade Dust had stolen the jade pendant and fled to the mortal world—scheming this hard, if the goal was the pearl, it made sense.
Strange: Jade Dust never entered the disordered space. The guardian pearl was on her now.
So much planning—then hand the artifact over? What logic was that?
In the tight plan one variable was largest.
How did Jade Dust know she’d go to Wangshu, meet the bureau, and that sending Yang Yufei would stir things just right?
She wasn’t in snow but cold climbed her spine.
Professional instinct—string the clues—and she couldn’t help doubting Bai Yanci.
Doubt was only doubt.
Jade Dust was strong, treacherous, well informed. Catching Bai Yanci in the net was possible.
Since Bai Yanci meant to hide it, she’d find truth herself.
Either way she didn’t want to doubt the one beside her in bed.
At night, feeling better, she dragged Bai Yanci out for a walk.
Bai Yanci refused flat: “You’re still weak. Don’t go out.”
“Look how fine it is outside.” She hauled Bai Yanci to the door. “See—you say no but you’re already here. We’re out—let’s stroll?”
Bai Yanci shook her head and laughed. “…No winning with you.”
Not far from Tinglan Apartments was a small park.
Late night, snow falling—almost no one in sight.
Storming the bureau had torn the mask with Mu—but neither bureau nor police had moved. Calm before a storm.
Quiet was fine. She didn’t want Mu in her life anymore.
Suddenly crying—a little girl sitting in the snow, clutching a button. No parent nearby.
Bai Yanci’s default cold face might scare a child.
She stepped ahead and crouched before Bai Yanci could. “Little one, why are you alone? Where are your parents?”
“I got separated…” The girl wiped tears. “Mom says kids who aren’t home at night get eaten by fairies.”
“Sister, hear that?” She teased. “Don’t go home late or a rabbit fairy will eat you!”
Bai Yanci took the stray shot and glared. “Nobody asked you to talk. You’ll scare her.”
“Okay, okay.” She turned gentle again. “Little one, where do you live? I’m police. This sister and I will take you home.”
After they delivered the girl safely, Bai Yanci laughed softly. “Officer Yi did another good deed in silence.”
“Should be, should be.” She checked her phone and winced. “Why so late?”
Half the streetlights were out—darker than when they left.
“Afraid of the dark?”
“Not really.” She smiled. “It’s late—I’m afraid a rabbit fairy will grab me and eat me.”
Bai Yanci: …
Bai Yanci ignored her, walked to a candied-haw stall, bought strawberry, and stuffed it in her hand.
“Sister, why sugar haw all of a sudden?”
Bai Yanci looked away, wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Too noisy. So you’ll talk less.”
“For the haw I’ll tell the rabbit fairy not to catch you tonight.” Halfway through she bolted. “I’ll negotiate—have her come tomorrow instead!”