Chapter 70: Clear Sky

“Worthless pack!” Diting furious—raged. “One human—even escaped—where could she go?”
At his wrath Qingxi and Furong bowed low—Qingxi grit teeth—nearly buried her face in the floor.
She copied—head down—alert.
Why would Diting want her?
Bai Yanci cold to him—shame—kill her to vent?
“My Lord—calm—your servant is useless.” Qingxi downcast—loyalty at once. “But I can use soul-chasing art—surely find that human!”
Diting said: “Forget it—one human—not worth soul-chasing.”
Soul-chasing needed a personal object—more lifespan—investigate her past—for an object.
But “Yi Ke” was dead—no identity on earth—face changed—Qingxi had no trail—that’s why she dared the moon.
Diting had vented on Qingxi—fire less.
Furong stepped—read his face—flattered: “My Lord is wise—if Lord Bai knew your care—she’d be grateful.”
Qingxi glanced at Furong—eyes vicious—wished them torn apart.
She understood at last.
Since Bai Yanci returned—mood poor.
Diting sent her—personal maid for Bai Yanci—company. Human life short—a century—he didn’t care.
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“Qingxi—watch more—find that human—bring her back.” Diting ordered. “Human flesh is frail—even guarding meridians—hard to pass transport array safe. Remember—don’t harm her.”
Qingxi nodded: “Yes, my Lord.”
Three left main hall—Qingxi dark-eyed—fresh anger—glared at Furong: “You embarrassed me before my Lord on purpose?”
“Your servant wouldn’t dare.” Furong proper smile. “Only ease my Lord’s worry—and yours.”
Qingxi no Furong’s tongue—lost—used rank—sharp: “You said share worry—both of you—kneel two hours in the side hall—ease my hate.”
Inner voice: Huh? Me too? I said nothing—kneel too?
After Qingxi—Furong changed face. Low rank—few arts—but big on petty power.
Before leaving main hall—a kick to her knee—forced kneel.
In the side hall Furong had been overbearing—two faces—mastered the knife edge.
Born for the moon’s ways.
“Why silent before my Lord?” Another kick—back—hard. “If Immortal Qingxi hadn’t come—he’d blame me for poor care!”
Full force—ordinary immortal dead. She’d guarded meridians—still minor hurt.
Inner curse: Your Lord’s impossible—care too much wrong—care too little wrong.
Survived two big bosses—then small boss beats you—hard life.
Compared—Bai Yanci cool—never bullied—truly good lord.
When she knocked Lanzhi out—she’d read all her memories.
Now she played the little maid—mindless praise: “Sister Furong—calm—my Lord favors you especially.”
“Oh?” Furong interested. “How so?”
“Whole moon—besides Immortal Qingxi and you—who may speak before my Lord?” She went on. “Raise cultivation to great immortal—you’ll crush Qingxi before my Lord.”
“Better.” Furong’s gloom lifted—bright mood. “I brought you along—sweet tongue—know the moment.”
Furong helped her up—cold laugh: “Qingxi ‘Immortal’? Only while Lord Bai fell from favor—no one else—two days of swagger.”
Furong was once small immortal in Qingxi’s hall—Qingxi raised her—lady rank—even arts from Qingxi.
Furong unsatisfied—thought Qingxi blocked favor at court—since lady rank—needled Qingxi everywhere.
Lanzhi caught between—no in—no out.
This small immortal—clever—high EQ—pleased both sides—scraped by in the crack.
Power was the moon’s only law.
Strong—bully freely. Weak—deserve abuse.
Diting allowed the rule.
Scolded and kicked—main hall wasn’t wasted. Endure—path to success.
When her spirit went to a thousand years ago—she’d sensed Milt’s consciousness wasn’t whole—Diting had taken part then.
She sensed it—in main hall—in Diting’s hands.
Not only Life God’s consciousness—a sliver of War God’s too.
Diting’s chess a thousand years back—wait for completion—sleep easy.
Gods fell—no gods left. Fallen god—incomplete—can’t summon God-Slaying Array.
Besides the array—nothing could judge Diting—no wonder he stayed confident seeing a face like Milt.
Even if the array failed to kill two gods—
Incomplete consciousness—no array.
A meticulous plan.
Back at side hall—Qingxi’s order—they knelt on the stone steps.
Disobey superiors on the moon—severe cost.
Furong provoked—punished—always for moment’s pleasure—never counted cost.
Weather not hot—two hours—would pass fast.
Then rain.
Thought it’d stop—instead harder—soaked through—chill head to toe.
Moon rain colder than earth.
Unlike mortal tales—the moon had four seasons. Rain mixed with power—like a dagger—cutting nerves.
No wonder kneeling in rain was torture—unbearable.
Time blurred—someone approached slow.
Blue-white figure—oil-paper umbrella—step by step—tilted shade over her—small dry patch.
Faint rose scent—no need look—she knew who.
Furong saw Bai Yanci—rose to bow—Bai Yanci waved both off—asked: “What happened—why kneel here?”
Furong’s look—she answered proper: “Lord Bai—at main hall report today—your servant angered Immortal Qingxi—so we kneel here.”
She knew Furong’s mind—took all blame.
Bai Yanci wouldn’t really punish—could owe Furong a favor.
Bai Yanci had Diting’s favor—couldn’t shield her openly always.
Keep Furong happy—steady Qingxi—moon days easier.
“Outrageous.” Bai Yanci’s eyes dark—threw another umbrella down—flat. “Go back—if Qingxi asks—say it was my idea.”
Pointed at her: “You—come with me.”
Furong stunned—she took the umbrella—half step behind Bai Yanci—into the side hall.
All the way Bai Yanci silent.
Two watchers sent openly—maybe more eyes in the hall.
Door closed inside—Bai Yanci: “She dared treat you so.”
“Fine.” She laughed light. “Servants always catch masters’ temper.”
Bai Yanci didn’t believe—pulled collar—undid buttons—fine dense scars.
“Moon rain isn’t gift—it’s punishment.” Scars—Bai Yanci’s heart cut—wished she could take it. “Leave it—scars—and power flow choked.”
She felt no stall—god and immortal systems differed—only wounds—no other effect.
Moon rain rare—when it fell immortals hid—or stayed in.
Bai Yanci gathered power—healed careful—smoothed scars away.
“In my ignorant youth—I didn’t know rain’s bite—two full hours.” Bai Yanci remembered sudden. “If not Immortal Qingxi—I’d have lost cultivation—reverted to moss.”
Qingxi healer—treated many rain victims—knew the harm—so she ordered kneeling.
Punish Furong for real—Yi Ke just collateral.
After healing—much better—new question: “Sister—why is this rain so fierce?”