Chapter 6: Wu Yi

“Tsk!”

Ah Miao spat right in the deputy’s face.

If before she only suspected her husband had been murdered, then after seeing this bastard’s face, she was certain.

She was certain that Wu Ma’s death had everything to do with this scumbag!

“The General is already dead, madam. Don’t refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit.” 

The deputy’s face was expressionless as he gave a heavy wave of his sleeve. 

“Take them! Move!”

“You dare!”

Ah Miao drew her twin daggers, her graceful figure curling like a cat arching its back— delicate, but brimming with a fierce and deadly edge.

She was ready to go down with a fight. 

If anyone dared lay a hand on her or her daughter today, they’d have to pay for it with blood.

She’d die before she let herself be taken.

Seeing that brute force wasn’t enough to cow her, the deputy’s eyes gleamed with slyness, and he smiled faintly.

“Shouldn’t you at least think of your daughter?”

That punch landed squarely on her weak spot.

Ah Miao bit her lip hard.

“Miss Ah Miao, come with me, and I promise not to touch your daughter. How about that?”

A blatant lie. 

If you want to uproot the weeds, you have to dig out the roots. 

There was no way he’d let either of them live.

But for Ah Miao— cornered, desperate— it was the last sliver of hope. 

That tiny thread of wishful thinking tugged at her heart.

“Really?”

She hesitated. 

Even though she knew there was a ninety-nine percent chance he was lying, she still hesitated.

“Really.”

The deputy forced a fake, greasy smile, knowing full well he had her in the bag now.

Clip-clop— clip-clop—

Hm?

Horse hooves?

Who else would dare ride through the city at full gallop? 

Where did this audacity come from?

Everyone turned toward the sound.

Thanks to the deputy’s earlier orders, the Holi Festival was in full swing. 

Townsfolk tossed handfuls of flower powder into the air, filling the street in a thick haze, obscuring the sky.

Through the dense fog, the deputy could just make out two shadows charging in on horseback—

One of them appeared to be holding a spear?

A long spear?

That weapon struck a very particular chord. 

One he hoped never to hear again. 

A terrifying, familiar memory crept up his spine, and his voice cracked with panic:

“Fire on them! Riding through the city is a crime! Spirit Artillery—fire!”

Sure, galloping horses weren’t enough to justify bombarding a residential block.

But fear turns people into lunatics. 

Wu Ma’s fearsome name still lingered like a ghost. 

If that was Wu Ma, then the deputy knew he was dead meat.

Clunk—

A gleaming spirit cannon rolled out of the ranks.

The Spirit Tamer channeled power into the cannon, and a massive flaming core shot forth, ripping through the air toward the riders.

But the two didn’t even flinch—didn’t even pretend to dodge.

As the horses crossed paths, the blue-sword bearer raised their weapon.

Tzzzzz~

With a hiss of redirected force, the blazing cannonball bent the sword but didn’t explode!

Instead, riding that tension, the blade snapped back into place and launched the cannonball right back where it came from—directly into the cannon’s mouth.

BOOM—

The explosion engulfed the entire funeral procession. 

The cannon shattered into lethal shrapnel, and the Spirit Tamer nearby was ripped apart.

What kind of technique was that?

The deputy stood frozen, dumbstruck.

The blast cleared the air, pushing back the clouds of flower powder—revealing the two riders at last.

They charged through the festive drumbeats, bathed in the fresh cascade of blessings tossed by oblivious townsfolk.

Tzzzzzz~

Wu Ma’s spear scraped along the ground, carving a trail of fire as it shot straight at the deputy.

“Mercy, General! Mercy—!”

“Mercy your meow-meow biscuits!”

Thud—

The spear drove clean through the deputy’s chest, lifting him high into the air. 

Then with a brutal flick, Wu Ma flung him up and skewered him on a streetlamp.

He wasn’t quite dead—still twitching, writhing on the post—but that only made the agony worse.

“By command of Her Highness Wu Yi, Thunder Marshal’s Third Code: Traitors shall be executed on sight!”

The voice was cold as iron, echoing like the god-slaying general of old, burning through the rust of time with fury.

The blood from the pirate slaughter hadn’t even dried yet, mixing with the flower powder and turning Wu Ma into a death god.

The boy beside him, holding a little girl in his arms, looked far too clean in comparison. 

As if he had just flicked off a speck of dust—not a cannonball.

“G-General Wu Ma…?”

All the traitors pissed themselves.

“Weren’t you supposed to be…”

Didn’t he get surrounded and killed by pirates?

Thud—

Wu Ma tossed a knapsack at their feet. It spilled open with a heavy clatter—full to the brim with severed ears.

“Two hundred and seven pirates across two ships, plus one pirate chief. All executed.

Now it’s your turn.”

“……”

“Alright, alright, kids shouldn’t be watching this.”

Already bored stiff with revenge-fueled melodrama, Wu Ye casually strolled into Wu Ma’s courtyard, leisurely carrying Xiao Qi in his arms, not forgetting to firmly shut the gate behind them.

Revenge? Let Wu Ma handle that himself.

“You…”

Inside the yard, Ah Miao stared at Wu Ye, at a loss for words.

“Yeah, it’s me. Alive. Not a ghost.” Wu Ye sighed, forced to explain yet again. 

“I got trapped in the forbidden zone back then…”

The screams from outside were blood-curdling, but no one inside so much as flinched. 

Wu Ye covered Xiao Qi’s ears and carried the little girl inside the house.

“Gadang gudong, gadang gudong~”

The kid was still happily playing with her little stone figurines, making weird, cutesy sound effects in her syrupy-sweet voice.

“When did you two get married anyway?” 

Wu Ye glanced at Ah Miao and Wu Ma Jr., slightly sentimental seeing their daughter was already old enough to run errands. 

“Can’t believe this pig actually learned how to chase cabbage. Tsk.”

At least in the realm of wooing women, Wu Ma had absolutely crushed him—no contest.

Adrenaline still surged through her veins, and Ah Miao’s temples pulsed in confusion.

The joy of Wu Ma’s miraculous return hadn’t even worn off when another friend and also presumed dead— showed up at her doorstep.

Quick-witted as ever, she instantly realized Wu Ye must’ve been the one who saved her blockhead of a husband.

Finally, the tension ebbed.

She slumped weakly against the arm of the couch, dabbing sweat from her brow and flashing her naturally soothing catlike smile.

“The day after the God-King died, we got married. On the Wind Plains of Falling Star Continent. Morcha Beia officiated the ceremony as priestess, nya~”

“…That’s so like you two.”

“When the God-King died, it felt like the end of a story,” Ah Miao recalled.

“Everyone finally let out a breath, dreaming of a brighter future without him.”

“Only pity is, Princess Wu Yi left that day… and never came back.”

She might be coming back very soon.

Wu Ye could feel a tingling itch spreading in his chest— an ominous signal growing stronger by the second.

He wanted to catch up with his old friends, to share stories.

But with Wu Yi’s imminent arrival, he knew he had no time left to waste.

“Ugh, okay, long story short, I’m here to ask a favor,” Wu Ye said quickly.

“Please watch Xiao Qi and the gourd vine for me. A girl will be arriving soon to take over care. I can’t stay—I’ve got to go!”

“Eh?”

Wu Ye bolted —vaulting the courtyard wall like a thief but the second he got over it, he faceplanted into the dirt.

Huh?

Sure, it had been years since he last climbed walls, but still this pathetic?

Something’s wrong.

His legs felt like jelly, like the bones had vanished.

His vision darkened at the edges.

No—this was bad!

Don’t tell me the one coming out… is that version of Wu Yi?!