Chapter 79: On Their Knees

The old man’s breath was as fragile as a thread; he could no longer lift his hand and could only nod faintly toward the door that Xiao Qing had just closed. He wanted to tell them, “The person you’re looking for is inside. Why did you shut the door?”

Smack!

A sharp sound rang out. Xiao Qing slapped the dying old man across the face. His frail body, already burdened beyond endurance, suffered even more. Unable to catch his breath, bewilderment clouded his eyes as his head turned—and he was gone. Perhaps, even at the moment of death, he never understood why this adorable girl chose to slap him.

At a time like this… Shouldn’t she have attempted some dramatic rescue, some artificial respiration?

Smack!

Another crisp slap. Xiao Qing anxiously struck the old man’s face.

“Qing, why are you hitting him? He’s already at peace with the heavens, blessed beyond measure. See? His eyes have rolled back.” Hei Wa stared in shock at Xiao Qing’s strange behavior.

“Oh, isn’t Xiao San meant to be hit?” Xiao Qing smoothed her hair, frowned at Hei Wa, then raised her hand again and landed another slap on the old man.

Zheng Qiguai had told them Li Changluo was secretly meeting Xiao San here. Apart from the old man, there was no one else in the room. If he wasn’t Xiao San, then who was? And in Xiao Qing’s mind, the notion of beating Xiao San seemed ingrained, as if Xiao San were some sort of monster—once beaten, Li Changluo would be saved.

Just as Xiao Qing raised her hand for another slap—

The door in the center of the living room shimmered, as if made of glass, and suddenly fractured. With its disappearance, Xiao Qing and Hei Wa saw two figures slowly materialize in the room.

One stood; the other knelt.

Li Changluo stood, and Lord Long Qi knelt. Long Qi knelt before Li Changluo, head bowed, holding out a brilliantly crafted jade casket carved with dragons and phoenixes, his manner reverent.

Xiao Qing and Hei Wa were both stunned.

Lord Long Qi, a figure revered as a god in the Monster Tavern—the favored scion, the genius monster—now knelt before Li Changluo.

As Hei Wa would say, Li was now the epitome of the extraordinary, untouchable, making Lord Long Qi submit in such a manner.

Time seemed frozen. Lord Long Qi and Li Changluo remained in their poses for what felt an eternity.

After a long while, Lord Long Qi coughed awkwardly, quickly stood up, and his usually cold face twitched with embarrassment. He glanced again at the jade casket, then swiftly tucked it away inside his robe.

Finally, under Xiao Qing and Hei Wa’s astonished gazes, he vanished in a wisp of smoke from the living room.

The entire process happened so quickly it left them dumbfounded.

Li Changluo remained standing, dazed, as if spellbound, the corners of his mouth curving in a half-smile, half-smirk. He was not enchanted nor frozen by some spell; rather, he was simply savoring the thrill of his own performance.

The feeling of Lord Long Qi kneeling before him was indescribably exhilarating—like the child praised endlessly by the neighbors suddenly kneeling before you, crying, “Big brother, your arithmetic is phenomenal—please accept my humble knees. Teach me how to solve these problems, I’ll do ten questions, and if I fail, I won’t get up.”

Such a moment of triumph was meant to be quietly enjoyed—nothing else.

So Li Changluo suppressed his laughter and basked in the present, determined to let no one disturb him.

“Ow, my eyes!” Li Changluo cried out in pain, clutching his eyes and squatting down, groaning.

“It’s alright now, thank goodness!” Xiao Qing smoothed her hair, jumped with joy, and finally released her scissor-shaped fingers from poking Li Changluo’s eyes.

Hei Wa, witnessing this, instinctively rubbed his own eyes. This girl’s method of waking people was… truly unique. He kind of wanted to see it again.

Li Changluo’s eyes were red as he stared at the absent-minded girl in front of him. He was at a loss, stomping his feet in frustration.

Teaming up with a girl like this—it was a miracle he was still alive.

Just moments ago, Li Changluo had been fleeing in delight, only to be kicked by Xiao Qing straight into the enemy’s trap… That feeling of being booted by a teammate into the enemy camp during a battle—well.

After entering that door, Li Changluo felt as if he’d lost his memory, unable to recall anything. The only sensation was that, upon flying through, he seemed to collide with something, then a chill enveloped him, as if he’d plunged into an icy abyss, numb from the cold.

When he came to, he saw Lord Long Qi kneeling before him with the jade casket. Then that scoundrel, Lord Long Qi, fled in shame.

He still had no idea what had transpired.

But thankfully, the danger here had passed, all was over.

Clutching his eyes, Li Changluo asked Hei Wa, “How did you two find this place?”

Though the clues in the comic were blatant, a lovable airhead and a foreign oddball who couldn’t understand Chinese could hardly decipher the information.

Hei Wa gesticulated and narrated their journey with vivid emotion.

Li Changluo listened intently, and finally realized that Hei Wa’s lengthy tale boiled down to a single sentence: Zheng Qiguai knew his whereabouts and had told Hei Wa and Xiao Qing.

Poor old Hei Wa, so eager to show off his idioms, he spun a web of nonsense.

This waiter, Zheng Qiguai, truly was odd. How did he know Li Changluo’s movements? It baffled Li Changluo—Zheng always gave off an uncanny vibe.

Moreover, ever since he’d emerged from the tavern’s stove last time, this sly waiter seemed to pay him special attention.

It made no sense.

Li Changluo just wanted to leave this cursed place; the room full of “painted skins” made his back feel cold, chilled to the bone.

“Hey, why is your back frozen?” Xiao Qing curiously poked Li Changluo’s back.

Startled, Li Changluo quickly reached back to touch it. Sure enough, there was a thin layer of frost, numbing his fingers as soon as he touched it.

“Li, are you some kind of popsicle monster?” Hei Wa licked his lips greedily, eyes fixed on Li Changluo’s back as if he’d spotted a feast, itching to try it.

Perhaps it was psychological, but Li Changluo, who moments ago felt jubilant, now sensed something was wrong with his body—his legs felt weak, his energy drained, craving a tonic to restore his strength.

And then—

Li Changluo suddenly had a bold idea.

He whimpered softly, then collapsed into Xiao Qing’s arms.

Ah, how dark it is…

Ah, I’m fainting…