Chapter Eighty-Two: Divine Messenger

The woman was dressed simply, her expression serene. Her face could not be called beautiful, yet it possessed a quiet allure that drew the eye. As though she had foreseen everything, she lifted the curtain and stepped down from the carriage, smiling as she gazed at Ye Ran, whose face was concealed.

For reasons he could not name, Ye Ran felt an unexpected pressure upon seeing her composed demeanor.

“There’s no need to cover your face. I remember you well, especially your eyes, Ye Ran.”

With a single sentence, the momentum Ye Ran had so painstakingly gathered vanished entirely. Suddenly, he recalled this face.

A year had passed, and his memory was somewhat blurred, yet now this visage appeared with striking clarity. It was this very person who had taken Mixue away a year ago; even her attire was identical—a red silk blouse, blue cloth trousers, a black scarf, unadorned yet quietly elegant.

Yet something puzzled him: how could the envoy from the Sixth Heaven Temple and the envoy from the Martial Hero Temple be the same person?

“Miss Shari, he too must answer to the Temple’s judgment,” Yu Bo, inside the carriage, could not restrain his anger upon hearing Ye Ran’s name. He lifted the curtain, ready to step out.

Shari tapped him lightly on the forehead with her finger. “Yu Bo, let your teacher handle this.”

Her voice was gentle, like spring water, dissolving Yu Bo’s fury. Though he clenched his fists, frustrated, he still returned to his seat.

Sinclair, behind them, had also heard the commotion and was suddenly alert.

Shari approached Ye Ran, curiosity glinting in her eyes. “We meet again, envoy.”

But Ye Ran’s gaze was filled with hatred. The aura that had faded now surged back, even stronger than before. In a flash, his body tilted forward, leaving a fleeting afterimage as he rushed her, blades crossed, steel gleaming in the air.

“What deep hatred you bear, boy,” Shari observed without moving. An invisible force blocked Ye Ran’s attack; it was as though an unseen wall surrounded her.

At that very moment, Meng Qi, hidden in the grass, sprang toward the carriage at the rear.

“Reckless child, back!” With a sweep of her palm, Shari sent Meng Qi crashing into an unseen barrier with a dull thud. He bounced back, looking at her in astonishment.

Second on the martial rankings at Shali Academy, Meng Qi was no stranger to formidable skills, but he had never seen anyone repel an opponent from a distance with a mere wave of the hand.

Ye Ran was just as shocked. Yet, being physically gifted, unlike Meng Qi who specialized in techniques, Ye Ran reacted almost instantaneously. Though his blades were blocked, he spun them in his hands, unleashing another pair of sharp arcs toward her.

It made no difference. The invisible wall repelled everything; she was utterly unassailable.

Ye Ran was about to change tactics when that unseen force struck his chest. For all his skill, he could not react in time—he was hurled backward, landing awkwardly on the ground. Rolling twice, he sprang up, gripping his blades tighter, his eyes fixed on Shari, wolf-like and wary.

Shari advanced at an unhurried pace, smiling. “So rebellious now, boy—was it because I took away the one you love?”

“Hmph.”

Without a word, Ye Ran sprang forward once more, but this time he did not attack immediately. He gathered his breath, drawing on the Flowing Bird technique to weaken her protective energy shield. Yet, the technique that had always succeeded against energy defenses was useless here. As soon as he neared, that force struck him again, sending him flying back.

“This isn’t energy force,” Ye Ran thought, his brow furrowed.

The woman smiled. “This is psychic power.”

Psychic power.

Ye Ran and Meng Qi both felt a chill in their hearts. Of all the known primal forces, psychic power was among the rarest.

Its nature was deeply mysterious, a force that seemed capable of manipulating all things. Unless one’s strength was overwhelming, there was no way to counter it at the same level.

For Ye Ran, the predicament was worse. Most of his physical techniques were designed to counter energy force; against psychic power, he was utterly helpless.

Meng Qi smiled bitterly. So much for the plan—one holding off the envoy, the other rescuing the captive. Against such an opponent, there was no chance of victory.

They were all going to fail here.

Yet Shari did not intend to make things difficult for them. She walked slowly toward Ye Ran. “Ye Ran, as a man, you should learn to be magnanimous. Mixue is a gifted child—once she enters the Sixth Heaven Temple, she’ll have a much wider world before her. If you truly care for her, you shouldn’t destroy her future for selfish reasons.”

“You have worked hard too, and your talent in physical arts is unique. But your aptitude, I’m afraid, falls just a bit short of what the Temple requires…”

She searched for a gentle way to put it, hoping it would not wound Ye Ran’s pride.

She stepped to his side. Seeing him hang his head in silence, she feared her words had hurt him. Dispersing the psychic shield, she reached out to pat his head.

“Your parting is only temporary. When you both have walked your own paths, when you grow into a great tree—”

“Bang.”

Before she could finish, her slender hand still on Ye Ran’s head, he suddenly raised his hand, releasing a fine powder that scattered before her eyes. The breeze carried it into her nose and mouth, and her psychic power reflexively hurled Ye Ran away.

“You little devil… you…”

She had never expected him to resort to such a trick. Off guard, she inhaled and immediately felt her mind grow dizzy.

Ye Ran, sent flying by the psychic force, twisted in the air and landed steadily. Using the momentum, he dashed to the rear carriage, threw open the curtain, and pulled Sinclair out.

“Brother Ye, Little Meng—”

“Sinclair, go! We’ll talk later,” Ye Ran said, sheathing his blades and grabbing Meng Qi. Yu Bo, from the front, leaned out as if to pursue, but a single look from Ye Ran made him hesitate. He could only watch in frustration and rage as the three of them disappeared into the grass.

“Miss Shari!”

He turned to see Shari sitting on the ground, but before he could approach, the psychic barrier sprang up once more, keeping him away.

“I’m fine. I’ll dispel the illusion drug soon,” Shari replied, her vision blurred, her voice weary but unhurt.

“How did that boy get hold of demonfolk illusion powder? Has he gone astray?”

“And there’s a trace of insect tribe energy… We must find him quickly…”

Shari murmured quietly.

Stormflow City, Gourmet Street.

Yunmeng sat by the window, chin propped on her hand. On the table lay a letter.

A letter from Ye Ran, delivered by courier that morning. He wrote that he had left Stormflow City and did not know when he would return.

At the end of the letter, a single line was scrawled:

“Yunmeng, life is long and happiness brief. So many of my best memories are of you. I long to have you, but I fear even more to lose you once I have you. I am but a fragile sapling, rootless and adrift. If, by fortune, I grow into a great tree, I will shelter you from every storm. For now, we part ways, but may we meet again.”

A breeze drifted through. Two bright tears fell.

“Fool, who asked you to take care of me… who asked you to protect me…”

…