Chapter 131: Farewell

“A spent force. Let’s see how much longer you can hold out.”

Yan Hua’s staff whistled through the air as it came crashing down, aimed squarely at the crown of Qin Qing’s head.

Just three inches from impact, a misty white light suddenly burst forth from Qin Qing’s body.

The light was almost tangible, carrying a force as heavy as a mountain.

Yan Hua’s staff began to shatter from the tip downward. That crushing power surged up the weapon, splitting the skin between Yan Hua’s thumb and forefinger. The force he had intended to unleash on Qin Qing rebounded entirely, sending him staggering back several steps.

He got off lightly. The other black-clad figures and Hong Du were thrown into the air and slammed hard into the ground.

Shi Jiang, who had been curled up behind Qin Qing, suddenly snapped to attention. Her eyes, which had seemed on the verge of losing focus, narrowed sharply as she sprang into action.

While Yan Hua was still reeling from the shock, Shi Jiang’s left leg lashed out like a striking serpent, her knee slamming precisely into his groin. As he instinctively bent forward, she grabbed his collar, vaulted upward, wrapped her legs around his shoulders at a sharp angle, and scissored toward his neck. Her hands locked firmly onto the head still hidden beneath the mask.

Yan Hua reacted quickly. With a flick of his wrist, he revealed a dagger and stabbed it backward into Shi Jiang’s thigh, piercing straight through. Blood gushed instantly.

At the same time, he yanked and twisted, trying to hurl her off his shoulders.

Shi Jiang cried out in pain but didn’t let go. Instead, she clung on even tighter.

A long, guttural scream tore from her throat, fading into silence as her voice gave out.

Summoning the last of her strength, she timed her move perfectly. Her limbs tensed, legs twisting Yan Hua’s body to the left while her arms wrenched his head to the right.

Crack!

The sharp snap of bone echoed across the battlefield.

Yan Hua, who had still been struggling a moment ago, suddenly went rigid. His eyes widened in disbelief as he toppled backward like a felled tree.

Shi Jiang was dragged down with him, her back slamming hard against the concrete. But she no longer had the strength to cry out.

From her sudden attack to the fatal counter, only a few seconds had passed.

Shi Jiang rolled over and looked toward Qin Qing. The blinding white light had already begun to fade.

She scanned the surroundings. At that moment, she was the only one still conscious.

She glanced at Wuyong, unconscious not far from Qin Qing, then at the black-clad figures strewn across the ground, unsure whether they were dead or alive.

With great effort, she began crawling toward Qin Qing.

As she moved, she noticed something strange about Yan Hua’s corpse.

His twisted neck lay at an unnatural angle, and his eyes were wide open, locked in a dead stare in her direction.

Shi Jiang watched as a blood-red object floated up from the top of Yan Hua’s head, hovering in midair.

It looked like a Blood-Red Card, marked with numbers.

She couldn’t make out the exact digits—she’d lost too much blood.

The card hovered just within reach.

Shi Jiang lifted her hand, instinctively reaching out. The moment her palm touched it, the card vanished.

She turned her hand over, then the other.

It was really gone.

Shi Jiang lowered her hand and spat out a mouthful of blood.

Then she continued dragging herself toward Qin Qing, leaving a trail of blood as long as a Daoist Master’s robe behind her.

The misty white light had completely faded. Qin Qing lay quietly on the ground, her face pale as paper.

Shi Jiang used the last of her strength to crawl over and shield Qin Qing with her own body, arms wrapped protectively around her head. Once she finished, her consciousness began to slip.

As her eyelids drooped, she witnessed something extraordinary just inches away.

A wisp of misty white light rose from the center of Qin Qing’s forehead. Then a second. A third…

Countless threads of white light surged upward, weaving and crossing through the air before descending back into Qin Qing’s body and vanishing.

It was as if… as if the light was weaving an enormous, invisible cocoon around her, shielding her from harm.

Shi Jiang tried to smile, but the numbness from pain made it impossible to move her facial muscles.

In a whisper of breath, she murmured, “So… it really is a god?”

Then, to the roar of a hovering helicopter, she closed her eyes.

—

Inside the helicopter.

When the white light first erupted, the shockwave shook the entire aircraft.

Fully armed soldiers stood at the open door, ready to jump at a moment’s notice.

They were all members of Qin Qing’s Action Team.

The blinding light made them instinctively shield their eyes.

“What the hell was that? Someone throw a flashbang and a shock grenade?”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Can we fly any faster? That battlefield looks insane. Any later and we’ll be too late to save anyone.”

“If you’ve got nothing useful to say, shut up.”

“Qin’s tough. She must have some kind of crazy self-defense trick up her sleeve.”

“Damn right. Even if we’re pushing up daisies, she’ll still be fine.”

Cisha stood with her arms crossed, coldly watching the noisy group.

The Captain said quietly, “They’re just nervous. The more tense they get, the more they talk.”

Cisha didn’t respond. Her gaze returned to the window, watching as the white light at their destination gradually faded.

Then someone shouted.

“Cut the chatter! Meng Yuan just passed out!”

The Captain turned instantly toward Meng Yuan’s seat.

Her head had slumped against the cabin wall, bobbing with the aircraft’s vibrations. Her body was slowly sliding down in her seat.

He rushed over and caught her chin to stop her from slipping further.

“Meng Yuan!” The Captain gently patted her face. “Meng Yuan… wake up!”

She didn’t respond.

He checked her breathing and carotid pulse.

The atmosphere grew slightly heavier as Cisha, watching him closely, reported, “She’s fine. Breathing is steady, pulse is normal. She just passed out.”

He turned to the person sitting beside Meng Yuan and asked, “Her physical condition isn’t that weak. What happened? When did she faint?”

The soldier replied, “It must’ve been right when the white light appeared. Just before that, I heard her muttering a prayer. When the light flared, I turned to look at it, and after that, I didn’t hear her say anything.”

The Captain knelt down, lifted Meng Yuan into his arms, and gently laid her flat on the ground. He took a tactical pack and placed it under the back of her head.

Standing up, he pointed to the youngest member of the team.

“Xiao Wu, stay on the helicopter and guard Meng Yuan.”

Xiao Wu hesitated for a moment, glancing at the Captain, then at the growing intensity of the white light in the distance.

He raised his hand in salute. “Understood!”

The helicopter hovered above the battlefield.

The fight was already over. Bodies lay scattered in every direction—no one was left standing.

Not far off, a vehicle was still burning.

A little farther away, police cars, military trucks, fire engines, and ambulances were approaching.

Everyone was too late. All of them…

From their vantage point, they had a clear view of the light cocoon forming.

Xiao Wu murmured what everyone else was silently hoping for.

“There are still special effects. That must mean… they’re okay, right?”

No one answered him.

A rope ladder was lowered from the helicopter.

The Captain stood, eyes fixed on the spot where the light cocoon had vanished. He fastened his helmet, cast one last glance toward Meng Yuan, then addressed the team.

“Move out! Stay alert!”

—

Qin Qing opened her eyes.

A white ceiling. Pale blue bedding. A narrow, ivory-colored hospital bed. An IV bag hanging from a steel frame. A heart monitor on the bedside cabinet.

The sharp scent of disinfectant filled the air.

There was a bitter taste of medicine on her tongue.

She was in a hospital.

She moved her hands and feet under the blanket. Everything seemed intact, nothing felt wrong.

Except her head—it throbbed and felt unbearably heavy.

A nurse, masked and in uniform, pushed open the door and walked in.

“You’re awake?”

She approached the bed.

There wasn’t a single familiar face in the room.

Qin Qing’s last memory was of Yan Hua’s staff descending in a blur.

She had no idea what had happened since then. Was it over? Was she safe?

She blinked and silently called up the System Panel. She needed to know what had happened after she lost consciousness.

After surviving a deathmatch like that, it was better to be overly cautious than not cautious enough.

But nothing appeared before her.

She blinked again. Still nothing.

She recalled the vague glimpse of a System Panel message just before she blacked out.

【Cradle No. 17905 bids you farewell!】

Her brain hadn’t fully processed it yet.

It hadn’t even had time to send signals to the rest of her body.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, tears welled up and spilled from her eyes.

Was it sadness? Fear?

She didn’t know.

Her mind was blank, devoid of any real emotion.

Her body’s subconscious had temporarily taken over her tear ducts.

She closed her eyes.

In her heart, she whispered, “Goodbye.”

“Why are you crying? Does something hurt? Can you speak?” the nurse asked gently, wiping her tears with a cotton swab.

Qin Qing opened her mouth. Her voice came out hoarse. “I’m fine.”

At that moment, in another hospital room, the deeply unconscious Shi Jiang lay still. In the palm of her hand, the Blood-Red Card flickered faintly beneath her skin.