Moth Chasing the Sun 15

For a moment, Lu Mingqiu wanted to blame her mother. But how could she? Everything her mother said and did, every thought she had—hadn't they all been taught to her by this world?

This society, countless people, had shaped her into what she was now. She couldn't tell right from wrong, had no sense of justice, and no one had ever taught her selfhood, self-respect, or self-love.

From the moment she could understand speech, she was taught to obey her husband. All her life, everything she learned was to make her husband love her more.

She didn't even consider herself a complete person. Only with a husband and family did she feel whole. Wasn't that tragic enough?

If Lu Mingqiu were to blame her, to resent her, how was that different from a healthy person using their good health to bully the disabled?

It wasn't her mother's fault.

Her mother was old; her views were set in stone, unchangeable. That wasn't necessarily bad. Their father was dead, and she lived alone in her memories—better than being torn between hope and despair every day.

The old patriarch was gone, a new one had arrived, and everything in this ancient castle had to be rearranged.

How much blood and tears would this decaying yet magnificent palace claim?

On her way back to the main building, she passed through a long stone path and encountered her underage sister. The little girl, dressed in a well-fitted, ornate dress, her delicate face like a doll carved by a skilled craftsman, looked at her with dull eyes, then lost interest and walked away into the depths of the flower garden.

Only adult descendants were allowed at the funeral—an unwritten, inexplicable rule, perhaps some curse-related absurdity. But during meals, Lu Mingqiu didn't recall such restrictions.

Perhaps Azbeto didn't like seeing these younger siblings, which was why she hadn't encountered them before.

The new patriarch indeed seemed busy. Having spent a long time in the military, he carried a decisive aura. His tall stature and broad shoulders, combined with his cold, expressionless face, lent him an oppressive presence.

Every step he took was measured precisely, like a programmed machine.

Lu Mingqiu only saw him at meals, and occasionally caught sight of him at other times. This brother and patriarch would always stride past her, his steps regular and stiff, eyes fixed straight ahead, never glancing at her.

The Bolov Family—a place where even false warmth didn't exist.

Lu Mingqiu cared little about such indifference. When she had been the pretty, exquisite sacrifice, this brother had never once looked at her directly.

An omega didn't deserve his gaze.

That wasn't entirely accurate either. Azbeto's arrogance far exceeded their shared father's. His pride kept his eyes above everyone, looking down on all. Except when their father was alive, he'd show a measure of respect to his superiors—but only a measure.

He despised the feeble-minded with a pathological intensity. People who were weak or inferior were things that should never appear before him.

This scope included all genders, all groups. His indifference could be called a kind of equal treatment for all.

That was why Lu Mingqiu had sternly forbidden her mother from going to beg him. She could guarantee that before the crying woman even uttered a syllable, she'd have her neck snapped by one of Azbeto's bodyguards.

Although she thought her mother somewhat... naively foolish, she was still the woman who gave birth to her. There was a debt of gratitude there, and her life had been pitiable enough.

Lu Mingqiu genuinely hoped her mother could have a smooth latter half of life—a meager compensation for the misfortunes of her earlier years.

And Azbeto, at this moment, was exactly as she imagined—busy beyond measure, coordinating his troops.

With his promotion, he had gained command over two more legions. How to arrange them, installing his own people, was all critical.

It also related to his plan. At this thought, his pale gray, cold eyes reflected a frightening fervor.

"Belika, how is the recruitment going?"

His adjutant replied respectfully, "After screening, we've only managed to recruit a little over a hundred."

Azbeto squinted in displeasure. "Too few."

"If we could relax the standards somewhat and give some marginally qualified individuals brief training, we could incorporate them," the adjutant said deferentially. "We're using the pretext of recruiting personal guards, so many have come to apply."

"Handle it as you see fit. Before winter comes, I want to see a thousand fully trained men," Azbeto said.

"Yes," the adjutant replied.

Once the funeral ended, Lu Mingqiu had no reason to stay. The higher-ups didn't allow her to risk reconnaissance, so she had to leave.

She packed her luggage and, as she was leaving, found Javier in the garden playing the violin. "A farewell for you, my sister."

When he wasn't having an episode, he was a handsome young man with a poet's melancholic air. His deep green eyes half-closed, his pale gold hair gleaming, he resembled a saint.

But the piece he played wasn't a gentle, melodious farewell. It was the "Danse Macabre," its sharp turns, high notes, trembling strings, and frantic notes enough to furrow the brows of the weak-willed and drag them into frenzied emotion.

Listening to such music, Lu Mingqiu calmly got into the car and left this towering castle without a backward glance.

Meanwhile, Yan Xianchuan, who had sworn to behave herself, was sneakily engaging in entrapment.

She put on a full disguise, making herself look harmless, took a taxi to the West District, wandered into a random alley, and began strolling aimlessly.

She even asked passersby for directions to nearby rentals, acting like a sheltered young lady who had never gone out alone.

Didn't even know how to rent a place.

Combined with her clumsy disguise and the faintly visible necklace, it didn't take long for her to attract attention.

A slick-looking man approached. "Hey, you looking to rent? I happen to have a place, a one-bedroom. Want to check it out? It's just ahead."

Yan Xianchuan pretended to startle at his sudden speech, then after a moment, in a high-pitched voice, said, "R-really? Great, that's just what I need."

Then she followed him, playing the naive, unsuspecting girl.

The man led her through twists and turns, and at one point Yan Xianchuan, staying in character, asked, "Are we there yet?"

The man said dismissively, "Almost there."

Yan Xianchuan believed him and obediently followed, until they reached a dimly lit alley.

"Here it is," the man said.

"There's nothing here," Yan Xianchuan said, puzzled. "I don't see a door."

"Hahaha, you're too gullible! You actually fell for it?" The man laughed, bending over, then his expression shifted into something ugly.

Two more figures emerged from the alley entrance, both slouching, grinning wickedly as they slowly approached, expecting to see the woman tremble in fear.

Yan Xianchuan's eyes widened in panic, and she stammered, "Y-you, what do you want!"

"What do we want?" The man sneered. "Hand over your valuables quietly, and we won't have to get rough."

"Hey, you're wrong there," one of the newcomers leered. "We'll take your stuff, but we'll also get rough." With that, he shoved Yan Xianchuan and pulled down her mask.

"She's not much to look at, but she's soft. Either way, she's for sale. Let us have some fun first."

Yan Xianchuan blinked a couple times, dropping the fearful expression. "So you want my money and my body?"

"Haha, this girl's pretty sharp." The three laughed, surrounding her. "If you cooperate, you'll suffer less. I ain't got no rule against hitting women. If you make trouble, you'll end up with those cheeks bruised, and you'll be the one hurting."

These three dared to rob in broad daylight because they had some backup: one of them had a mechanical prosthetic arm.

Even a low-quality prosthetic far surpassed a natural arm in both strength and speed.

It could be considered a weapon.

Yan Xianchuan looked at the three and suddenly smiled, with utter sincerity. "Thank you, thank you all."

The three robbers: ?

"Scared senseless?"

"Lost it?"

"Maybe she's brain-damaged. Whatever."

The last one shrugged and reached out to grab Yan Xianchuan, but she clamped his wrist, twisted it lightly, and a crisp bone-crack sounded like a cracker being crushed.

"Aahhh!! Fuck!"

The other two's faces changed. The one with the mechanical arm swung his arm, fingers spread, small blades extending from the tips, slashing at Yan Xianchuan.

A gust of wind rushed past her ear. Yan Xianchuan kicked the man she held away, ducked under the blade, grabbed the junction between the prosthetic and the shoulder, hooked her other arm around his neck, pulled him back, and with a bent knee, wrenched the prosthetic off like snapping a frozen popsicle.

A nauseating sound of flesh and bone tearing clung to the ear. Blood and screams burst forth together. The man with the severed arm fell to the ground, flopping and writhing like a fish thrown into the desert.

Blood gushed from his body, quickly pooling on the ground.

The only intact one turned pale as a ghost, as if seeing a demon. His scream stuck in his throat. He didn't even think about throwing a punch to save his companion—he turned and ran.

Yan Xianchuan stepped on the belly of the man she'd kicked, who was writhing and trying to get up, then weighed the prosthetic in her hand and hurled it at the fleeing man.

"Bingo!"

The poor man hadn't run two steps before the flying prosthetic hit him square in the head. With a clatter, he fell face-first and lay still.

"I didn't even use much force," Yan Xianchuan muttered guiltily, hiding her hands behind her back. "He didn't die, did he? No fun."

She looked down at the man under her foot, who was full of terror. "Do you often traffic innocent girls?"

The man's insides were nearly crushed. The kick had already damaged his organs, and blood oozed from his lips. Now, at her question, he didn't dare nod or shake his head, terrified that any answer would be wrong and cost him his life.

"Speak up," Yan Xianchuan said in dissatisfaction. "You were pretty chatty earlier. It's not like you're mute."

"If you tell the truth, I'll let you go," she said, her expression earnest.

"R-really?" The man asked in disbelief.

"Of course," Yan Xianchuan said, frowning as if offended by the doubt. "When have I ever told a lie?"

Aren't you lying right now with this entrapment? The man didn't dare raise an objection. He was at the mercy of this killing god, and he'd accept whatever she said.

He coughed a few times and begged, "I just joined recently. Today was my first time. They're repeat offenders, do this all the time. I saw it paid well and agreed to join."

"I was blind not to recognize you. You've already killed two of them, so you must be satisfied, right? I'm an animal, not a person. I'll never do it again. Please, let me go!"

Yan Xianchuan pretended to think, then asked with curiosity, "But earlier, you seemed pretty eager when you said you wanted to have some fun."

The man whose prosthetic had been torn off had somehow gotten up and drawn a dagger from his waist. Taking advantage of their exchange, he lunged at Yan Xianchuan's back.

But Yan Xianchuan seemed to have eyes in the back of her head. Before he got close, she shifted her weight to the foot that was on the other man, and with a spinning kick, sent the man's other arm flying off. It smacked against the wall and splattered into pulp.

His eyes bulging, he crashed to the ground, throat gurgling. He slid forward a bit from momentum, stopping right beside the pinned man, and then died.

As for the one underfoot, his abdomen had been suddenly hit with force. His abdomen still had elasticity, so the skin didn't burst, but the organs inside shattered and broke. He vomited blood violently, twitched a few times, and stopped moving.

Yan Xianchuan let out an "Eh?" and stepped off him, pursing her lips. "I didn't even do anything."

She shrugged, walked out of the dim, empty alley, found a small shop to change into clean clothes, and then moved to another street to repeat her trick, starting the game again.

It wasn't until the night was mostly spent and dawn began to break that she happily hailed a taxi to head home.

The night had been extremely fulfilling. She felt she had found the meaning of life. She was utterly content.

Humming a tune, she returned to Yunmengtai. There was a bit of blood on her, but she was too lazy to clean up. She planned to just throw the clothes away. The moment she opened the door, she was startled to find the living room light on and a person who shouldn't have been there sitting on the sofa.

Yan Xianchuan's eyes lit up immediately. She rushed over, wrapped her arms around the person, and said in surprise, "Why are you back so suddenly? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I missed you so much." She nuzzled stickily into Lu Mingqiu's neck, but the woman pushed her shoulders.

Reluctantly, Yan Xianchuan loosened her arms, only to meet Lu Mingqiu's suddenly serious face. Confused, she asked, "What's wrong?"

Lu Mingqiu: ?

What do you mean, what's wrong? There are two drops of blood on your cheek—didn't you notice? And on your clothes too. The smell of blood on you is so strong it's terrifying.

Lu Mingqiu frowned. "Where did you go?"

Yan Xianchuan was startled. "I, I went shopping."

Lu Mingqiu: "In a slaughterhouse?"

Her eyes darted left and right, refusing to meet the questioner—a clear sign of guilt. "I, um... I went to do a good deed."

Lu Mingqiu stared at her expressionlessly for a while, then sat back on the sofa and said flatly, "Tell me, what good deeds did you do."

Yan Xianchuan cautiously glanced at her expression, afraid to speak for a moment.

This scene was like the man she had pinned underfoot—also filled with hesitation, afraid to speak, afraid of saying even one wrong word.

But Yan Xianchuan had no room for lies. Facing Lu Mingqiu's calm, stern gaze, she was like a clam soaked in saltwater, spitting out everything inside her.

She confessed everything in one go—how she disguised herself, how she fished, how many people she killed.

When she finished, she stood like a schoolboy being punished, hands behind her back, head bowed, as if admitting fault.

Lu Mingqiu didn't even know whether to be angry.

"You promised me before..."

"I was wrong!" Yan Xianchuan interrupted. "But I wasn't reckless."

She stole a glance and saw the other didn't seem angry, so she defended herself. "I changed my face. No one recognized me. And the ones I killed were all bad people. They attacked me first; I only fought back."

"That should count as self-defense, right."

Lu Mingqiu opened her mouth. Before she could speak, Yan Xianchuan immediately dropped her head and mumbled, "I was wrong."

Lu Mingqiu felt both helpless and amused. The anger in her heart vanished instantly.

Actually, she had anticipated this.

Yan Xianchuan without her was like a beast without a leash. With no restraint, who knew what she might do? In fact, Lu Mingqiu was already surprised that Yan Xianchuan hadn't gone with Qi Ziyang to finish off the Yue Family.

She had repeatedly reminded Yan Xianchuan, harboring a faint hope that she'd restrain herself.

But she hadn't expected her to do quite well—she even remembered to change her face.

Of course, she still hadn't been able to resist using force.

But the fact remained that the promise was broken. Lu Mingqiu had to put on a stern front to teach her right from wrong.

"When you do something wrong, you should be punished, don't you think?"

Yan Xianchuan nodded solemnly.

"What should I punish you with?" Lu Mingqiu said slowly.

At that, Yan Xianchuan lifted her head slightly, looking at her with pleading eyes, putting on a pitifully cute expression.

"Pouting won't work on me," Lu Mingqiu said.

Yan Xianchuan blinked a few more times.

Lu Mingqiu: "..."

Lu Mingqiu: "For punishment, no desserts for three days."

A bolt from the blue!

Yan Xianchuan stood stock-still, dizzy, dazed, utterly lost.

"Huh?"

Lu Mingqiu: ... A sudden pang of guilt.

She steeled her heart and said without changing expression, "Three days. No negotiation."

The woman still looked dejected, as if struck by a huge blow. Lu Mingqiu's guilt swelled, and finally she couldn't help but add, "But if you behave well, you can lift the punishment early."

At those words, a glimmer of light returned to Yan Xianchuan's eyes. "I'll behave!"

"Can I have a hug then?" she asked softly. "We haven't seen each other for days. I really miss you."

For the eight hundredth time, Lu Mingqiu cursed her own softness as she opened her arms.