Chapter 46
Wakako had a long, long dream.
In the dream, she clutched the soft hem of the Saint’s robe, burying her head in the warmth of the Saint’s embrace, surrounded by that comforting fragrance. She did nothing, simply stayed there, basking in the comfort.
She remembered every detail vividly, including how Miki reached out to stroke her head, smoothing her stray hairs, her fingers tapping on her shoulder as if keeping a rhythm.
A soft melody drifted into her ears, lulling her to sleep.
It was a Waka poem, but no matter how hard Wakako tried, she couldn’t decipher the specific words.
The singing stopped, and she suddenly awoke from her dream, her face pale as she looked at the person beside her.
She remembered which waka it was.
The moon is not the same
Spring is not last year’s spring
Only I remain
As I was in days gone by
Unchanged from the past
Though today is different from the past, Wakako still hasn’t changed at all.
Unchanged from the past.
She had once again willingly crawled into the Saint’s bed, shamelessly rubbing against Miki’s fingertips until they turned red.
There was a buzzing in her ears, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Miki’s palm, dirtied by her actions, but she didn’t even have the courage to look closely.
She…
The night outside was deep; she had no idea what time it was. The Saint’s eyes showed a sleepy confusion as she softly asked, “Aren’t you going to sleep?”
Just how far had their intimacy gone that she had even forgotten to wipe the Saint’s hand?
Wakako trembled all over.
Seeing her dazed expression, Miki gazed at her tenderly and asked softly, “Does it hurt?”
Hurt?
“Every time you drink, you tease me,” the Saint said with a hint of reproach, her voice a whisper in Wakako’s ear. “You always insist on adding another finger… That must hurt, right?”
Wakako quickly understood what she meant, and a wave of heat rushed to her cheeks, leaving her speechless with shame.
She really…
Yet Miki continued to express concern, repeating her question, “Does it hurt?”
No, it wasn’t painful. On the contrary, she quite enjoyed it. The feeling when those slender fingers came together…
But how could Miki speak of such things so casually?
Wakako couldn’t bear to look into Miki’s eyes, her mind filled with only one thought: to escape from here as quickly as possible. She abruptly rolled off the bed, grabbing her black shirt and hastily pulling it on, when she heard a voice behind her:
“Waka.”
The Saint spoke.
“You said you didn’t want to see me again. Why did you come here, take my clothes, and pleasure yourself in my bed?”
“And now you’re leaving without a word… Do you… not like me anymore?”
Her tone was calm, yet empty.
Wakako turned to see her eyes, red and on the verge of tears, like a flower drenched in rain.
It was always like this. Whenever Miki cried, Wakako couldn’t think straight.
But this time, Wakako held her ground, though her body still trembled. “Did you do this on purpose, to lure me here?”
It was Lin Lin who had brought the alcohol, and it was her own suggestion to come here to enjoy the breeze, but she had a gut feeling that all of this was somehow connected to Miki.
Miki blinked, looking as if she had been wounded, and said with a hurt tone, “Why would you say that…?”
Wakako didn’t dare to listen to any further explanations. She rushed out the door, not daring to stay even a moment longer. was terrified that she wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to hold Miki in her arms.
Miki would be hurt.
Their intimacy would only bring divine punishment. Every kiss, every intertwined finger, would turn into a curse, dragging the Saint into suffering she shouldn’t have to endure.
The cold wind blew in the courtyard, and Wakako suddenly didn’t know where to go. Remembering that Lin Lin was still in the adjacent courtyard, she quietly climbed over the wall.
Her junior sister had been resting for quite a while, and even in her drunken state, she was gradually regaining consciousness.
As someone approached the bed, her mercenary instincts kicked in, and she abruptly opened her eyes. However, upon seeing who it was, she relaxed.
“Senior Sister,” Lin Lin yawned. “What time is it?”
“The bell for evening prayers has already rung.”
“Oh…” Lin Lin mumbled, still drowsy, and rolled over. “Then I’ll sleep a little longer.”
Wakako stood silently in place. After a long while, she asked, “Lin Lin, was the wine we drank today brewed by our Master?”
“I think so.”
“The taste seemed different.”
“Really?” Lin Lin’s words were slurred. “Doesn’t all wine taste the same? I can’t tell the difference.”
After a moment, Wakako dismissed the strange thought. Forget it, there was no need to doubt Lin Lin.
Perhaps she had simply been confused and had done such a foolish thing due to intoxication…
Wakako sat down on another bed in the room, reaching into her clothes for something.
A few days ago, as she was leaving the divine temple, a mysterious woman in black had brushed past Wakako. They had bumped into each other lightly, and the object the woman was holding had fallen to the ground.
Wakako quickly apologized and bent down to pick it up.
The woman smiled and said, “Meeting is fate. I’ll give this to you. If you ever feel restless, hold it in your hand, and it will help calm your mind.”
Wakako felt it was wrong to take the woman’s item for free after bumping into her. But as the crowd surged, they were quickly separated, and in an instant, the woman vanished as if she had never been there.
The item the woman left in her hand was a round jade, threaded with a silk cord, perfectly sized to fit in her palm. It was warm and smooth, with a mysterious ability to bring calm to the mind.
But now, Wakako couldn’t find it. She didn’t know where she had lost it. Could it be that she had left it in the Saint’s residence?
…
The Saint’s bedroom was once again empty.
After Wakako left, Miki’s expression instantly turned blank. Calmly, she picked up a handkerchief from the side, dipped it in water, and meticulously wiped her hands.
Aside from her slightly red eyes, there was no trace of tears.
Yes, she had done it on purpose. So what?
She knew Wakako well. She knew that if Wakako avoided the banquet, she would definitely go to the training grounds, likely to vent her frustrations through training. Knowing that her junior sister, Lin Lin, had a weakness for alcohol, she knew that if Wakako was feeling down, Lin Lin would most likely bring her some of the wine brewed by their masters to drown her sorrows.
So she had switched the wine beforehand, replacing it with the same kind she had once gifted to Wakako, not the one brewed by their master.
By drinking that old wine and with Wakako’s heightened sensitivity to her scent, it was only natural that Wakako would be lured into her room, exactly as Miki had planned.
Most of the time, Wakako was reasonable, but occasionally she would stubbornly follow her own path, refusing to listen to reason.
But that didn’t matter.
Miki had learned from a young age that whether it was handling people, horses, or dogs, when gentle persuasion failed, one should switch tactics and make the other party realize—
Some bonds are like delicate yet unbreakable vines, could not be severed, even with a knife.
Miki placed the handkerchief aside. Senryu would come to clean up at dawn.
Her gaze was suddenly drawn to something at the foot of the bed. At some point, a jade pendant, entirely green, had appeared there. It wasn’t hers, and she had never seen Wakako wear it before.
But it seemed to carry the faint scent of incense from the divine temple.
Disgusting.
Miki looked at the jade pendant coldly, thinking she might as well smash it to pieces. But the moment her fingers touched it, she paused, her gaze fixed on it as she pondered.
Could it be…?
After a long moment, she carefully put the jade pendant away.
***
Eagle Kingdom.
“Your Majesty,” a servant hurriedly reported, his steps quick and anxious. “Lord Saburo has awakened.”
Alva, the ruler of the Eagle Kingdom, had been discussing important matters with other ministers, but upon hearing this, he immediately stopped. “Have Saburo brought… No, I will go see him.”
The wound on his abdomen was deep; even if he had woken up, he likely wouldn’t be able to move.
Alva followed the servants to where Saburo was resting.
That day, he and his close attendant had disappeared without a trace. After several searches, the Eagle Kingdom’s forces finally found Saburo unconscious near a cliff.
The sight was truly horrifying. There was a gaping, bloody hole in Saburo’s abdomen, as if all the blood in his body had drained from it. Everyone thought he was already dead, but upon checking, they found a faint breath, clinging to the edge of life and death.
So they brought Saburo back and treated him with great care. It took a whole month for him to wake up.
Alva’s eyes held a hint of anger, but as the ruler of a kingdom, he maintained his outward decorum and didn’t forget to express concern for his subject. “Lord Saburo.”
But his tone was almost gritted. “How… is… your… health?”
After all, the Saint had spent the past five years in the Eagle Kingdom, and with Saburo’s assistance, they had understood the will of God earlier than Mios. They knew that only one kingdom could remain on the Eastern Continent, so they had made thorough military preparations.
Sending troops to Nanling City was just a smokescreen in their plan. Victory or defeat didn’t matter; even losing was acceptable because their true target was another city in Mios: Jinxin Port.
The surprise attack on Jinxin five years ago had taken place there.
Mios had won the battle at Nanling and pursued them relentlessly to Yueqing City. Then, the mudslide occurred, providing the perfect opportunity for a diversionary tactic!
If they had attacked Jinxin Port at that time, they might not have achieved a complete victory, but they could have at least weakened Mios considerably.
But the Saint had declared a truce between the two armies in front of everyone and even left with the people of Mios.
This incident was undoubtedly a slap in the face for Alva, in front of everyone from both kingdoms. Although he hadn’t achieved remarkable political accomplishments as a ruler, he had never experienced such a humiliating defeat.
The people who had once believed in him wholeheartedly now cursed him for defying the will of the God and waging war, claiming he would bring ruin upon the entire kingdom. Residents near the border even risked execution by fleeing to Mios.
How could Alva not be enraged?
He had barely slept these past few days, working tirelessly with his trusted ministers to temporarily stabilize the situation.
His eyes were bloodshot as he stared at Saburo, waiting for an explanation.
Although Saburo had woken up, he was still very weak and couldn’t even stand up to bow. “Your Majesty.”
He knew he had to appease Alva’s anger as soon as possible.
In a weak voice, Saburo said, “My wound… was inflicted by the Saint.”
“The Saint?” Alva didn’t believe it. He knew how frail Miki was. “How could you be injured by her? Weren’t you always able to control her? What happened?!”
Saburo coughed up blood. “She is… the Saint. She possesses… abilities that ordinary people do not.”
His eyes flashed with darkness and hatred.
“But Your Majesty, do not worry. Now… the favor of God rests with me.”
Saburo’s voice was weak and broken. “Please look at my wound. I survived only because of… the divine protection of God.”
Alva frowned and glanced at the wound. Indeed. Saburo had been stabbed in a vital spot and left exposed on the mountain for days. If not for divine protection, his body would have long since turned cold.
It seemed God still favored Saburo to some extent. Thinking of this, Alva’s expression softened slightly.
“But what did the Saint mean that day when she said God ordered a ceasefire?”
“She fabricated it.”
“What? How dare she?!” Those simple words had single-handedly destroyed the Eagle Kingdom’s long-planned surprise attack.
No one had expected Miki to be so bold.
Alva’s expression darkened; his anger so intense it seemed as if it could spill over at any moment.
“The Saint has repeatedly defied divine will and has lost God’s favor. She is no longer fit to serve as the Saint…” Blood trickled down the corner of Saburo’s mouth, which he wiped away nonchalantly.
With great effort, he forced himself to sit up, his face pale. “Since that is the case, Your Majesty, would you be willing to support a new Saint— a Holy Son? That way, each kingdom would have a divine emissary, and we could compete fairly.”
Alva stared at Saburo in shock and disbelief.
Support a new… Holy Son?
