After hearing Yun Shu’s plan, the Little Fox’s eyes widened. It jumped anxiously from paw to paw. “Host, don’t be rash! Let’s think of another way. You can’t do this. What if the male lead truly believes it? Then you’ll never be able to complete the mission. You’ll be trapped in this book’s world forever and never make it back to your original world!”
If Yun Shu had merely wanted to control the rate at which his favorability increased, the Little Fox would have supported her with both paws. But Yun Shu’s plan was not to control the rise in his favorability—it was to cut off every possible escape route and eliminate the threat posed by his favorability altogether.
“This cruel world has turned Wuling City into a living hell, leaving its people with no way to survive. And Wuling City is far from the only place like this in the south. The people in other cities are living in conditions that are even worse.”
Yun Shu took out the Dream-Entering Bell and sighed. “System, with the situation this urgent, I truly don’t have much time to waste on Shen Jue. If this means I can never return to the modern world, I won’t regret it. This is my duty as a police officer. My parents would definitely support my decision. Perhaps they would even be proud of me as their daughter.”
“Host…”
The Little Fox said gloomily, “Is it really worth going this far for a fictional world?”
“If I think it’s worth it, then it is.”
Yun Shu’s voice was firm and decisive.
Even though it knew there was no way to shake Yun Shu’s resolve, the Little Fox still couldn’t help trying to persuade her. “Why don’t we think it through again? There must be another way…”
Yun Shu shook her head. “I’ve thought of many possibilities, but none of them can solve the problem once and for all like this one.”
As she spoke, she shook the Dream-Entering Bell.
The hand Shen Jue held his brush with paused slightly over the document. A drop of ink fell, spreading into a blot.
He blinked instinctively, trying to dispel the sudden drowsiness, but his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
Before long, he lost consciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, he was standing amid a field of ruins.
The plaque bearing the name of the Marquis Ningyuan’s residence had broken in two. The charred character for “marquis” lay at his feet, still licking with half-extinguished flames.
He recognized the threshold before him.
When he was young, he would always trip over that three-inch-high piece of wood. His mother would laugh and reach out to help him up.
Now, a charred corpse lay slumped against it.
The jade bracelet around its wrist was still faintly visible. It had been a dowry gift from his maternal grandmother to his mother when she came of age.
“Mother!”
Shen Jue dropped to his knees with a thud, crawled over, pulled the corpse into his arms, and burst into anguished sobs.
“Brother, go… Hurry and go…”
Shen Yu’s broken voice reached his ears. Shen Jue abruptly raised his head, only to see an arrow piercing Shen Yu’s body. He lay curled on the ground, blood flowing everywhere and gathering in the cracks between the flagstones to form a dark-red stream.
“Fuyan! Fuyan!”
Shen Jue practically crawled toward him.
His palm accidentally pressed against something slick. He lowered his head and saw his younger sister’s spear. Its tassel was soaked in blood, twisted into a single dark knot.
It was the birthday gift he had given A-Ying.
He still remembered how, upon receiving it, his little sister had laughed and told him that from then on, she would even hug it while she slept.
“Big Brother?”
Was that Shen Ying’s voice?
Shen Jue’s entire body shook violently. He turned to look.
There she stood in the distance.
Her lips moved weakly, blood frothing at the corners of her mouth. “Why do you have to love the Goddess? You’re the one who got Mother and Father killed, and Second Brother too. It’s all your fault…”
Before she could finish, flames fell from the sky and landed directly on her and Shen Yu, who lay in a pool of blood.
Shen Jue watched, his eyes bulging with despair.
“No! A-Ying!”
He stumbled toward her, desperate to save her, but in the end, all he could embrace was a scattering of ashes.
When he came back to himself, he saw his father, the Marquis Ningyuan, lying in the grand chair in the main hall. He was looking at Shen Jue with profound disappointment and said bitterly, “Changfeng, how could an ordinary mortal dare profane the Divine Lady? You truly have lost your senses!”
Shen Jue knelt in the middle of the ruined courtyard.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. It felt as though something had shattered inside his chest, the fragments stabbing into every rib. The pain forced him to bend over until his forehead touched the ground.
Blood flowed toward him from every direction.
His father’s, his mother’s, his younger brother’s, his younger sister’s—all mingled together until it was impossible to tell whose blood was whose.
Suddenly, a cool, ethereal figure appeared above the ruins. Her white robes were whiter than snow, her beauty otherworldly, yet her gaze was cold as frost.
Shen Jue stiffly raised his head. His face was deathly pale, his eyes filled with despair.
“Divine Lady, I was wrong…”
His voice was hoarse. “Please, I beg you, spare my family. I’ll do anything. I’ll be your ox, your horse. I’ll accept an eternity of torment without complaint. Please, spare them…”
The Goddess looked down at him, her expression utterly calm.
“There is a divide between gods and mortals. You dared to harbor mortal feelings for a deity; that is an act of blasphemy against the divine. The divine punishment has already descended. There is no turning back.”
She swept out one delicate hand.
Countless fiery meteors once again rained down from the heavens.
This time, they fell upon the entire mortal world.
“No! Please, no!”
Shen Jue threw himself forward, crawling on his knees across the scorching flagstones. The fabric over his knees burned through, leaving his flesh charred and bloody.
He desperately knocked his head against the ground toward the Goddess in the sky.
But it was useless.
Countless people he knew and countless others he did not, one after another, were consumed by the heavenly flames. Wails of agony filled the land.
When a deity’s wrath descended, mortals were reduced to ashes in the blink of an eye.
“General Shen, wake up! What’s wrong?”
A blurred voice pulled Shen Jue out of the dream. After drawing several hurried breaths, he realized that he was lying facedown on his desk.
“General Shen, you look awful.”
Pei Du stood on the other side of the desk and handed him a cup of warm tea. “Have you been working too hard these past few days?”
Shen Jue accepted the teacup, his fingertips trembling slightly.
“I’m fine.” He took a sip. His throat felt dry and raw. “I’ve been reading documents for too long. I had a dream.”
Pei Du studied him thoughtfully. “General Shen, you should take a few days off. General Feng and I can handle Wuling City. There shouldn’t be any major problems.”
“No need,” Shen Jue refused at once.
In the tree across from them, Yun Shu put away the Dream-Entering Bell.
“Host, that was ruthless.” The Little Fox glanced at the number displayed on the system panel and sighed. “The male lead’s favorability toward you dropped straight from seventy to fifty.”
“All right. Now we can get to the real work.”
Yun Shu rose and gazed toward the distant sea. “Ten days is still too slow. I need to find a way to get Shen Yu and the others to Wuling City within five days.”
An army of rebels like Chen Chao’s was like a swarm of locusts.
Whenever they captured a city, they cared only about burning, killing, and looting. They had no concern whatsoever for the lives of the people, let alone the rebuilding of the city afterward.
The damage to Wuling City was far too extensive for the ten thousand Northern Frontier troops to rebuild it on their own. They were nowhere near enough.
Moreover, there were too many people in the city who were unable to fend for themselves, causing supplies to be consumed at an alarming rate—especially medicine. The military doctors’ stock of medicinal supplies was already running dangerously low.
