Your Majesty - Chapter 60
He still remembered the scene when he saw her three months ago—fragile and broken, covered in wounds, with a poisoned arrow and a cold knife stuck in her chest, the blade piercing through her chest and protruding from her spine, as cold and cruel as a bamboo skewer piercing through flesh.
The person who killed her was resolute, targeting vital organs like the heart, leaving no way out for her.
She should have died on the spot, but the person who killed her never expected that her heart was located in the completely opposite position to others.
Her extraordinary talent saved her.
"Yes, yes, don't worry, senior brother, I will definitely stab him in the back myself." The girl gave him a perfunctory smile, the smile not reaching her eyes at all.
"...Father is right, you're too soft-hearted. You're better off not being the Holy Maiden." The young man gave her a cold look, then turned and walked into the depths of the Gobi Desert.
The girl smiled wryly, pursed her lips, lifted her skirt, and swayed as she followed.
He's right. At this point, she's no longer qualified to be the Holy Maiden of the Demonic Sect. Her days of arrogance and unparalleled prestige are over.
Are you sure the Lonely Palace's headquarters are here?
Gazing at the vast, boundless desert in the distance, the girl couldn't help but speak.
"My information is infallible." The young man walked forward unhurriedly, seemingly with great confidence.
"This palace master is so strange. Why would he build the palace in such a remote and secluded place?" the girl wondered.
"You think this is just an ordinary desert?" the young man sneered, speaking slowly and deliberately. "Along this journey, there have been places like Carp Back, Black Wind Valley, and Man-Eating River. Which one is a place where people can live in peace? The Palace Master of the Lonely Palace is quite capable, choosing such a uniquely quiet place to live in seclusion. No wonder no one in the martial world knows the whereabouts of the old monster."
The girl didn't answer, but silently followed him.
—An old monster? Wasn't it said that the Palace Master of the Lonely Palace was a handsome young man who admired Sang Chan?
She recalled the time long ago when she listened to Wang Gang tell stories in the small town.
Back then, she was full of fantasies about the future and firmly believed that all handsome men would fall in love with her unconditionally. Even after the appearance of the extraordinary fairy Sang Chan, she once foolishly thought that she was an all-powerful heroine who could defeat all characters and had nothing to worry about.
Yes, there's nothing to worry about, except for my own life.
The blood-red sunset sank below the horizon, its large, magnificent, semi-circular fireball casting a crimson glow on her cheeks.
Do you hate it?
The boy who had been walking silently ahead suddenly spoke up.
The girl was taken aback by his question.
"I hate it," she answered softly after a moment.
"So even knowing this is a den of dragons and tigers, you still came with me?" The boy chuckled, his tone quite sarcastic.
"Anyway, there's no point in staying on the mountain," the girl replied softly, extremely obedient.
"If you listen to me, I will help you get revenge after this is done." The boy's voice was firm, and his steps never faltered.
The girl hummed in agreement.
As the last rays of sunlight disappeared below the ground, a crescent moon rose in the dark blue sky to the east.
A majestic mountain range appeared before them, its dark cliffs hinting at the outlines of magnificent palaces. In the misty haze, distant lights and stars echoed each other, making it almost impossible to distinguish which one had been lit on the horizon. From afar, it resembled a masterpiece of ink painting, adorned with shimmering gold leaf.
That was an unattainable illusion.
Six and Twelve
On the twelfth floor of the Illusory Wonderland sat a man dressed in fine clothes with a cool and aloof expression. At this moment, he was leaning against a desk, slowly and methodically building a model with bamboo sticks and canvas.
Those originally ordinary raw materials seemed to be imbued with magic in his hands, turning into an exquisite miniature windmill as they curled and glued together.
The young master picked up a folding fan and waved it a few times at the windmill. The windmill spun around, causing a black ribbon on one side of the base to move. When the ribbon slid forward about an inch, a small, round ball rolled down the ribbon and landed precisely in the groove of the sand table. With a click, the opening at the other end of the sand table opened, and a stream of clear water flowed out, beginning to flow into a small waterwheel standing beside it. The waterwheel slowly turned under the flow of water, and somehow triggered a mechanism. With a rumbling sound, a loom in the room started working on its own, spinning a fine strip of cloth.
The wonder of mechanisms lies in achieving great things with little and creating something from nothing.
Even so, the young master was still not satisfied with his work. His amber eyes stared quietly at the turning waterwheel, pondering what was wrong with it.
Oh, right, it's the weight. The waterwheel was heavier than expected. If the waterwheel could turn three more times, the cloth spun on the loom could be a fraction wider, though the time would still be shorter.
Having figured it out, he reached for the waterwheel, intending to modify it to be lighter.
"Young Master, we have a guest." A gray-clad guard appeared at the door.
The elegantly dressed young man didn't stop what he was doing; he simply raised an eyebrow and asked, "Which floor have we reached this time?" His expression remained unchanged.
Over the decades, very few people have managed to reach the foot of this cliff. But even if they did manage to get there, they would never be able to climb to the top of the palace. At most, they would be utterly defeated by the third floor, making it extremely boring.
The guard, head bowed, said, "They're incredibly fast; they've already reached the sixth floor."
The elegantly dressed young man was taken aback, and then turned to look at the guard properly.
"What kind of person is he?" he asked, somewhat curious.
"The visitors are a man and a woman, both very young. The man is about ten years old, and the woman is even younger, only about fifteen or sixteen," the guard reported respectfully.
"Is that so? Truly, heroes emerge from among the young." The young master revealed a smile he hadn't shown in a long time, instantly eclipsing all the splendor in the room.
"Reporting to the young master, the young man who attempted the trial has been stopped by Palace Master Mei and has fallen into the Chaos Prison." The guard added, head down, not daring to even breathe. "Only the young lady is left to put up a last-ditch resistance."
"Oh? Why keep them? Has Palace Master Mei not had anyone to practice on in a long time? Does she want to play with them a bit more?"
The young master casually disassembled the waterwheel's frame, his expression calm and composed.
"Because Palace Master Mei found a gold and jade pouch on her." The guard gritted his teeth and revealed the truth, his heart pounding wildly.