Flickering.
An eerie green light exploded in Madam’s palm, casting a sinister glow on her mask.
“What… what are you doing?”
Meng Mo squinted, glaring at the light.
She wanted to step back, but the ropes were too tight.
She could only writhe futilely, like a fish stranded onshore.
“Just a small welcome gift.”
Madam’s voice was gentle, but the curve of her lips sent chills down one’s spine.
“It might hurt a little.”
Light seeped from Madam’s fingertips.
With a light tap, the glow burrowed into Meng Mo’s shoulder like a living thing, spreading through her veins to every limb.
“Aaaaagh—!”
Meng Mo’s scream echoed through the hall.
Her body arched violently, like a shrimp boiled alive.
Tears streamed from her eyes.
Her fingers spasmed, scraping white marks across the floor.
“Stop—! I’ll talk—! I’ll talk—! I’ll say anything—! Stop!”
“No rush.
It’s only just begun.”
Madam spoke slowly.
“Bear with it.”
She didn’t stop, but the light in her hand dimmed slightly.
Madam tilted her head, watching Meng Mo’s tear-streaked face.
The curve of her lips deepened.
Meng Mo gasped for air.
It felt like countless needles were shooting through her body.
Something was regrowing inside her veins—old parts crushed, new sprouts emerging from the debris, then crushed again, regrowing, cycling endlessly without end.
Meng Mo stared at Madam’s smiling face.
For the first time, she felt that this masked woman was ten thousand times more terrifying than that demon.
After a while, the light in Madam’s hand gradually extinguished.
She withdrew her hand and blew on her palm.
Meng Mo collapsed on the ground like ice cream melted under the sun.
Her body twitched slightly.
Her eyes were half-closed, eyelashes clinging to tears, face pale but still conscious.
Madam looked down at her, unable to help admiring White Li’s endurance.
Her so-called Healing forcibly removed damaged parts and accelerated regrowth.
The pain from this process was more than ten times worse than the wound itself.
When she had healed that little fox earlier, despite yelping a few times, she never passed out.
White Li, with her frail body, had gritted her teeth and endured it.
“You people… have such sick tastes.
No wonder they say… don’t get too close to those freaks from Starfall Society.”
After a long time, Meng Mo slowly regained her senses.
She curled up on the floor, hugging her knees, and glared up at Madam.
“I never said… I wouldn’t give you information.”
Her voice was halting.
“You come in with torture right away… too rough.”
“Oh dear.”
Madam waved a hand, looking aggrieved.
“I never tortured you.”
She extended her fingertip and made a small swipe.
The ropes on Meng Mo snapped, falling away in pieces.
“Stand up.
Take a few steps?”
“Huh?”
Meng Mo looked up in confusion, rubbing her sore wrists.
She slowly stood, steadying herself on a stone pillar, then noticed something strange behind her.
Meng Mo spun around.
Her broken wings had healed.
They were now firmly attached to her shoulder blades, the membranes smooth and new, glowing with a faint pink-purple luster.
She tried flapping them.
It still hurt a little, but they moved.
“How did you do that?”
Meng Mo’s voice was incredulous.
“It should have taken at least half a year to recover…”
“Secret.”
Madam winked.
She sat back on her throne, crossed her legs, and propped her chin on one hand.
“Now… can we continue our conversation?”
Meng Mo swallowed, watching Madam warily.
Her fingers clutched the edge of her wing, as if afraid it might disappear again.
“That Blazing Knight you mentioned… who is he?
The black one?”
“Yes.”
Madam nodded, her purple eyes gleaming behind the mask.
“Tell us everything you know about him.”
“He…”
Meng Mo hesitated, looking away.
“I don’t remember very well.
When I escaped the dream, I was badly hurt and lost some memories.”
She lowered her head.
“But I’ll tell you what I still recall.”
“Go ahead.”
Meng Mo panted, spilling out everything she remembered in fragments.
“That’s basically it.
About those dark amber pupils, about the black armor… just from his stance, you could tell he was insanely strong—overwhelming power even within her dream.”
Searching through broken memories for relevant information was still exhausting.
Meng Mo wiped the cold sweat from her forehead.
“That black state—did it appear when he was unconscious?”
Madam leaned back in her chair, tapping her fingers on the armrest twice.
“Yes.”
Meng Mo nodded firmly.
“It only came out after I stripped away his consciousness.
Like… like a beast locked in a cage that ran out while its owner was asleep.”
“Good intel.”
Madam said quietly.
She shifted her position, eyes fixed on the dancing candlelight on the wall.
“Even if you’ve forgotten the knight’s true identity,” she paused, “you can still confirm he’s a young male?”
“Y-Yes.”
Meng Mo’s voice was hesitant, but she nodded.
“Looks like we need to change our plan, Martha.”
Madam picked up a teacup from the table and took a light sip.
“Understood.”
Martha stood in the shadows, expressionless.
Meng Mo stood in the center of the hall, looking from Madam to Martha.
“Huh… what plan?”
“So?
What help do you need from me?”
Back at Lin Du’s place, White Li was filled with emotion.
Only a day had passed, and here she was again.
And this time she hadn’t climbed in through the window—she had walked in through the front door with dignity.
Next to the shoe cabinet, there was a new pair of guest slippers—light gray, fluffy, clearly just bought, with the price tag still on.
She changed into them and tapped her feet on the floor.
The blanket on the sofa was folded neatly.
The half-read book on the coffee table had a bookmark tucked in.
The mug was washed clean, placed upside down on a coaster.
Everything was the same as that night, yet not.
‘I wonder if he noticed…’
White Li stood in the entryway, took a deep breath, and pushed aside those messy thoughts.
Today she was here to help.
No unnecessary thinking.
She patted her cheeks and walked toward the living room.
Lin Du held out a long list in front of White Li.
“I invited Sitiao Shizhi over for dinner this weekend.”
“Hmm?”
White Li took the list and glanced down.
Dense handwriting, neatly listing seasonings, meats, vegetables, seafood, fruits, dessert ingredients…
Next to each item, there were brands and estimated price ranges, as if he had done his homework.
“Wait…”
She flipped the list over.
There was more on the back.
“All this?”
“Exactly.”
Lin Du tied on an apron and turned toward the kitchen.
“I’m cooking at home.”