Decaying World Chapter 283

Lin Xiaoliu's third brother? Song Yunhui had heard classmates ntion him—supposedly a formidable expert, one who held considerable standing in the Inner City.

But given the situation—a predicant that not even a City Lord could personally resolve—he couldn't understand where Lin Xiaoliu found such confidence.

He exchanged a glance with his mother.

What they truly valued was Lin Xiaoliu's perception. Without it, they would never have tracked down the school she'd transferred to and begged for her help when all other options had run dry.

Ultimately, Song Yunhui didn't want to die. He wanted to live—long enough to grow stronger, to return to the Royal City and take revenge on his so-called older siblings.

And yet, even as he hoped Lin Xiaoliu would co with them, guilt gnawed at him. He knew he was using her. Selfishness and conscience pulled in opposite directions, so he stepped back and left the choice to his mother—that way, the weight of it wouldn't fall on him alone.

Now, with no way out before them, Lin Xiaoliu seed to believe that running back to a stronger relative would be enough.

"Xiaoliu... you're underestimating the Mingxin Society. You'll die," Song Yunhui said quietly, lowering his head.

"We've already relocated across three cities. We can say with confidence that the City Lords of every district we passed through are connected to the Mingxin Society—every last one of them." His mother added with a helpless exhale.

If they hadn't been completely out of options, why would they have run so frantically?

"Yeah, Xiaoliu, your brother is incredibly strong—but this situation is unlike anything ordinary. If you go back and they find you, you'll really die!" Xu Yaya added, her voice tight with anxiety.

Her family was only middle-class in Black Cloud City. She'd seen far less of the world than Lin Xiaoliu, and she was already terrified.

"Don't be afraid." Lin Xiaoliu reached out and pulled her best friend close. "Whatever happens, I need to go back and talk to my third brother first. We're still young—our understanding isn't complete enough for a decision this big. We can't just make it on our own."

Xu Yaya was usually the one who looked after her. Now it was her turn.

Song Yunhui and his mother exchanged a helpless look. Lin Xiaoliu's mind was made up. There was no point arguing further.

"Alright... if you're sure, Xiaoliu—can we co with you to et your third brother?"

He had no intention of letting her go alone. With her perception beside him, there was no telling how much of the tracking and pursuit that haunted them they could avoid. When combined with his own Evil Energy, their chances of survival would rise considerably.

"I can't promise anything, but I can bring you along to try," Lin Xiaoliu said earnestly.

"Then you have to promise us: if nothing can be resolved, we leave imdiately. I'm worried the Mingxin Society will move before we do," Song Yunhui said.

"Okay!" Lin Xiaoliu gave a firm nod. Her perception was extraordinarily sharp—she could sense that neither Song Yunhui nor his mother held any malice toward her. If anything, they regarded her with genuine goodwill.

That was why she was willing to bring them.

The four of them ate so roast chicken, tidied their robes, and followed Lin Xiaoliu out.

They took care to detour through the busiest streets, hoping to force any Mingxin Society pursuers to hold back. After all, this was still Black Cloud City—the core territory of the three great City Lords. Anyone who dared cause trouble in a crowded area would be courting a direct confrontation with the Black Army.

They crossed the urban district, wound through parts of the suburbs, and changed vehicles along the way.

By the ti they finally exited the Inner City and passed through its white Boundary Wall, Song Yunhui and his mother had been tense the entire journey. But as they drew closer to the Clear Wind Temple, they began to notice sothing unusual.

The further toward the seaside they walked, the stronger the wind.

The buildings along the road grew increasingly magnificent.

The Outer City was supposed to be poorer than the Inner City—yet the estates here were lavish. It wasn't simply a matter of being newly constructed; the naval battle had only taken place a few years back, and most of the Outer City was new. What was striking was the contrast: one street over, the buildings were plain and sparse by comparison.

Before they knew it, an hour had passed. The four arrived by cart at the gates of the Clear Wind Temple.

Only then did Song Yunhui and his mother understand what they had been seeing. Every magnificent building along the way was arranged around the Clear Wind Temple, radiating outward in concentric rings. The source of it all was here—this white manor that, at first glance, seed no larger than it ought to be.

The manor was an enclosed architectural complex surrounded by thick white walls, inside of which rose more than a dozen white pavilions of varying heights. The walls themselves were nearly two ters across, with sword-bearing n and won in white patrolling their tops.

At a single glance, the martial bearing of the place made clear this was no ordinary household.

Still, given the cheap land in the Outer City and the martial background any academy student would naturally carry, the extravagance of a prominent family wasn't difficult to explain.

What puzzled Song Yunhui and his mother, however, was Lin Xiaoliu herself.

The mont she stepped down from the cart and stood before the gates, she began to tremble.

"Xiaoliu, are you carsick? Why are you shaking so much?" Xu Yaya rushed to support her, brow furrowed.

"No—I'm not shaking at all. What are you talking about?" Lin Xiaoliu's gaze was steady. "This is happiness. I'm excited!"

The three of them watched as she unclipped a ring of keys from her waist, picked one, and tried to fit it into the lock of the side door. Three tis in a row, her hands trembled so badly that she missed entirely, the key scraping uselessly against the rim of the keyhole.

"…" Song Yunhui and Xu Yaya both felt a sudden crawl of dread up their spines.

Clatter.

The key dropped to the ground.

But then —

Click.

The door swung open from the inside on its own.

"Little Junior Sister—why didn't you send word ahead of your arrival? If the patrol hadn't spotted you, no one would have co out to receive you properly."

The figure behind the door wore a white dress cinched at the waist, a sword at her side. Black hair flowed like silk to her waist. The contrast between her cold, striking features and the full curves of her figure was sharp enough to make Song Yunhui swallow hard.

"Senior Sister Yuanyuan." Lin Xiaoliu did her best to steady her voice, managing a strained smile. "I just... I just need to see my third brother. It's important."

"You're still so shy." Li Yuanyuan's gaze moved briefly to the three figures behind Lin Xiaoliu.

"I am Song Shihan—Xiaoliu's classmate's mother. I escorted them here. Now that we've arrived, our part is done," Song Yunhui's mother said in a clear voice.

She intended to wait outside and try once more to talk sense into Lin Xiaoliu when she ca back out.

"No need. The Dao Master is already aware you've arrived. Co in together," Li Yuanyuan said flatly.

"Then... we'll impose." Song Shihan hesitated, then nodded. She reasoned that Lin Xiaoliu alone might not carry enough weight for what needed to be said—as the only adult among children, her presence might make a difference.

The four followed Li Yuanyuan through the side door.

Inside the enclosed corridor, they passed one or two figures in white resting against the walls with eyes shut, formless currents of air drifting around their bodies—all of them, it seed, practicing the sa internal art.

That alone wouldn't have unsettled Song Shihan. Large clans commonly shared a foundational practice.

But as the small training yard in the adjacent courtyard ca into view, she went rigid.

A figure in white, multicolored light shimring between their brows, moved through a single-handed sword exchange with two opponents at once—the blade trails so swiftly she couldn't track them.

A Blood Ancestor. There was a Blood Ancestor here?

How could soone at that level—who by all reason should only appear sowhere like the Moon Tower—be standing in an Outer City compound?

If she couldn't follow their blade, she couldn't stop their strikes.

Song Shihan began to wonder if following Lin Xiaoliu here had been a terrible mistake.

Turning a corner, they entered the next section of the corridor. Coming toward them was a tall woman with faintly dark skin and a black eyepatch over one eye. She wore the sa white waist-cinched dress, her build full, her features sharp and remote—a different quality of coldness than Li Yuanyuan's.

As she drew close, she gave Li Yuanyuan and Lin Xiaoliu a brief nod, then walked past without a single glance at anyone else.

She seed no different from the other white-clad figures. But the mont she brushed by, Lin Xiaoliu went completely still, not daring to move a muscle.

Only after the woman had fully gone did she exhale.

And this ti it wasn't only her. Song Yunhui and Xu Yaya had both felt it—a ghastly, bone-deep chill radiating off the woman as she passed.

It had been no illusion.

Song Shihan's gaze dropped to the ground the woman had crossed. There it was: a shallow trail of blue frost, already lting.

Extre Cold Heaven. That was the power of Extre Cold Heaven. She recognized it at once.

How could a corrupting force like that be present here?

Even the power of Extre Cold Heaven—on par with Purgatory itself—had shown up in this place.

But what she couldn't reconcile, what defied all logic, was this: the frost showed no sign of spreading. It was simply dissolving, fading into nothing before it could take hold.

Extre Cold Heaven frost... lting on its own.

It was as absurd as fire going out the mont it touched dry wood.

"That was Senior Sister Fan Lingxi—my third brother's personal disciple," Lin Xiaoliu said, turning back to them. "But don't be afraid. She's... she... aside from the cold expression, she's actually very kind."

The three of them: "…"

If her voice hadn't been trembling as she said it, they might have believed her.

The four pressed on. The next two stretches of corridor passed without incident, and all four quietly breathed easier.

Click.

Ahead, Li Yuanyuan stopped before a pair of pure white arched double doors and pushed them open. They swung inward like white wings.

The figure seated inside made Song Shihan and Song Yunhui freeze.

It was a well-built man—square-jawed, hair loose and disheveled. He sat cross-legged on the floor to the left of the hall, a long silver sword lying flat across his knees, eyes closed in deep stillness.

Neither Song Shihan nor Song Yunhui knew who this person was. But they knew imdiately what he was.

A Mistborn.

Having grown up in the Royal City, Song Yunhui had encountered Mistborn before. He could feel the markers of such an existence—and there was no mistaking them.