Chapter Twenty-Nine: Reprimand and Encirclement

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Perhaps in Lividia’s eyes, her anger was nothing more than a natural outburst, yet the consequences were the loss of countless vibrant lives. The most terrifying part was that she might not even realize the gravity of her own actions.

Seeing the filthy, ill-fitting dress she wore, Chen Tu could almost picture this girl—who knew nothing of good or evil—brutally robbing or even killing someone just for a beautiful piece of clothing.

Chen Tu pressed his forehead and muttered, “What a mess… I really shouldn’t have taken in a troublemaker like you.”

Though he grumbled, if he had the chance to choose again, would he really let this girl wander the streets alone? Thirty years ago, he had already missed an opportunity; he had spent three decades doing good deeds, helping the needy until it had become second nature to him.

What’s more, this was a young girl carrying a child—her hidden suffering and the shadow of her crimes made it impossible for Chen Tu, by any sense of justice or compassion, to turn a blind eye.

“The incident with the ogres, and the firefight with those foreign terrorists—were you involved?” he asked.

Lividia nodded. “I don’t know about the ogres, but the terrorist was actually someone trying to take me back. I had no other choice, so I let Leviathan deal with them.”

“Leviathan? So that’s your power… An ability user unit, and they dared to break even that code of conduct. That means you’re more important than the wrath of any Pulse-wielder,” Chen Tu said with a deep headache. Handing Lividia over would only thrust her back into the flames of war, but keeping her would bring disaster upon the orphanage.

Just then, a caretaker hurried over, breaking the heavy silence. “Director Chen, there’s someone at the door—he says he’s an old friend and would like to speak with you.”

Chen Tu was taken aback, then nodded. “The Pulse-wielder in charge of the investigation, I presume… I’ll be right there.”

He spoke solemnly to Lividia. “Lividia, I want you to remember this: Until I say otherwise, you’re absolutely forbidden from using your powers again. If you’re willing to keep this promise, then I’ll protect you for now.”

Lividia nodded with a trace of confusion.

Chen Tu wondered how such a naive girl could have managed to escape from Yamest, crossing an entire ocean to Tianjing.

Could it be she had simply forced her way through with telekinesis?

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After Chen Tu left, Lividia suddenly gazed into a shadowed corner of the room. Though the blazing sunlight should have dispersed it, the darkness there seemed unusually thick and viscous.

Pale tendrils emerged first, followed by slick, greenish skin; finally, a head like that of a water demon surfaced. Its shapeless form crept toward Lividia.

Instead of screaming like an ordinary girl, Lividia exclaimed in delight, “Tindalos, did Fran send you to help me?”

Tindalos circled her once, its pale head rising to her level. Through resonance, it produced a low, muffled voice.

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“Lividia… Leviathan… come with me.”

Lividia suddenly lowered her head and fell silent.

Ardonsa was puzzled, but not wanting to arouse suspicion, continued imitating Tindalos’s voice. “Come with me. It’s Fran’s order.”

But Lividia shook her head. “No, Tindalos, I really like it here. I want to keep playing with everyone. Chen Tu also promised to protect me as long as I don’t use Leviathan.”

“Come with me.” A tentacle reached for the girl.

“No!” The air vibrated violently. Tindalos instantly retracted its tentacle.

This was not the place for a confrontation.

Ardonsa found the situation troublesome. Lividia’s overwhelming power made violence an impossible option from the start, which meant that if she was stubborn, there was almost nothing it could do directly.

“You’ll regret this, Leviathan.”

Tindalos swiftly withdrew into the shadows and disappeared as if it had never been there.

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Chen Tu walked on and soon spotted a chubby boy squatting in a corner, crying. He went over and pulled the boy’s hands away from his face.

“Chubby, were you bullied by Beibei and the others again? It’s because you like to cry so much that they keep picking on you.”

Chubby boy pouted, “Beibei poured water under my seat and said I wet my pants… even Xiaomei laughed at me.”

Chen Tu helped him up, brushing off his dirty clothes. “If someone bullies you, fight back. If someone laughs at you, laugh back. We don’t raise cowards here.”

He pointed to a mischievous-looking child playing in the distance. “That’s Beibei, right? Go over, kick him in the butt, pin him down, and tell everyone you didn’t wet your pants. I guarantee Beibei won’t dare bully you again, and Xiaomei won’t laugh at you.”

Chubby boy clenched his fists. “I, I, I…”

Chen Tu glared. “Otherwise, I’ll tell Xiaomei you really did wet your pants.”

With a look of tragic resolve, the chubby boy charged off like a wild boar and soon was rolling on the ground, tussling with another little boy.

Watching the scene with satisfaction, Chen Tu smiled. The caretaker beside him said awkwardly, “Director, isn’t it a bit inappropriate to encourage kids to fight?”

Chen Tu waved his hand. “They’re children. What’s the point if they don’t roughhouse a little? Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

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The caretaker’s mouth twitched, lost for words.

The two continued on, soon reaching the orphanage gate.

Chen Tu saw Li Zhicheng, standing as straight as a rifle by the roadside, and sighed.

Through their mutual sense for the pulse arts, both instantly recognized each other.

Waving the caretaker away, Chen Tu led Li Zhicheng into the reception room.

“Guests from afar are always welcome. Please, have a seat.”

Li Zhicheng did not sit. Arms crossed, he surveyed the surroundings. “Anxin Children’s Welfare Home… Who would have thought the Silk-Hand Chen Tu would retire here to be a caretaker.”

Without expression, Chen Tu sat down. “Yes, I’m a caretaker here. If that’s all you have to say, you can leave now.”

Li Zhicheng cleared his throat and saluted. “Li Zhicheng, fifteenth-generation heir of the Golden Gate, greets Master Chen Tu, the Silk-Hand.”

Chen Tu replied, “There’s no need for such formality. I’m just an orphanage director now.”

Li Zhicheng said, “In the martial world, the accomplished come first. You deserve my respect, no matter what.”

“Martial arts…” After so many years, the memories of practicing in the sect and the wild remained vivid. The faces and laughter of his brothers and sisters seemed alive again, and Chen Tu felt a pang of nostalgia.

But soon, a wave of sorrow washed over him. He waved his hand. “Martial arts? I’ve been out of practice for over thirty years. If you want a tour, I’ll arrange it. If you can leave a donation, I’ll even put your name on a banner. But let’s not talk about anything else.”

“Mr. Chen, I came to spar with you.”

“See the guest out.” Chen Tu didn’t even look up.

Li Zhicheng frowned, turned away, but after two steps, he suddenly spun around and struck out with a fierce punch. The air crackled, doors and windows shuddered under the force of his energy.