allendalepharm Chapter 115 The person has vanished without a trace.
Chapter 115 The person has vanished without a trace.
Without a word, he turned and sped away—why stay here to die when he couldn't even catch a glimpse of the enemy?
Lin Tian reached out and gently patted Zi Nu's waist, laughing, "Miss Zi Nu, go back inside and rest. If you stay up too late and ruin your complexion, you'll be letting down this stunning face."
"Aren't you leaving?" Zi Nu could tell that he had other plans in his words.
"I'm not leaving." He looked in the direction where Mo Ya had fled, his smile deepening. "That guy is fast and quick-witted. I need a nimble helper."
"You want to take in Mo Ya?" Zi Nu was taken aback.
"No way?" Lin Tian asked back.
She shook her head, her tone slightly somber: "It's not that it's impossible... it's just that he belongs to Ji Wuye's 'Hundred Birds,' and is utterly loyal to his master, never harboring any disloyalty."
Lin Tian smiled faintly, his gaze calm: "Miss Zi Nu, in this world, don't use the word 'absolute' so often. Those trapped in darkness have only two ways of living—either they willingly succumb, sinking deeper and deeper into darkness; or, precisely because they have seen too much darkness, they yearn for light more than anyone else."
"You mean... Mo Ya belongs to the second type of people?" Zi Nu frowned slightly, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the embroidery on her cuffs.
"Who can say for sure if I don't try it myself?" Lin Tian chuckled. He knew perfectly well that in the original story, Mo Ya and Bai Feng would eventually betray Ji Wuye; it was only a matter of time.
"If we keep talking, Mo Ya might already be stepping into the General's mansion." Before he finished speaking, his figure had already disappeared into the thick night like melting snow.
Zi Nu gazed at the empty alleyway and subconsciously touched her waist—the spot where Lin Tian's hand had rested still held warmth, like a small, unextinguished flame. She let out a soft sigh, but her heart was rippled with unease, the source of which she couldn't explain.
Lin Tian made no attempt to conceal his presence, standing openly behind Mo Ya.
Mo Ya noticed it, of course. No matter how fast he suddenly accelerated, stopped abruptly, or even leaped onto the rooftops to dart away, Lin Tian always stayed steadily a hundred paces behind him, neither too fast nor too slow, following him like a shadow.
Mo Ya understood perfectly—this was a blatant test, and even more so, a silent mockery.
He suddenly stopped, turned around and looked back, his gaze sharp as a blade: "Since you didn't take my life before, why are you now relentlessly pursuing me? Do you think I'm easy to bully?"
Lin Tian was taken aback, then suddenly realized, and shook his head with a wry smile: "If I said that someone else kicked you, would you believe me?"
"Hmph!" Mo Ya sneered, his eyes filled with mockery.
"Fine, I admit it." Lin Tian spread his hands, his tone tinged with helplessness. "That kick was mine."
"What exactly are you after?" Mo Ya's voice was deep and cold as iron, each word dripping with frost.
He didn't believe Lin Tian was unaware that he was the leader of the "Hundred Birds"; if he really didn't know, why would he interfere when Han Fei was in danger?
"Do you... yearn to stand in the light, to be baked to the bone by the sun?" Lin Tian suddenly asked, his gaze intense.
Before he finished speaking, he pointed his fingers like a sword, and a sharp sword aura pierced the air, its chilling edge already pressed against Mo Ya's neck. Yet his voice was calm, almost gentle: "Hanging by a thread, do you... feel a tremor in your heart?"
"If I were afraid of death, I wouldn't be sitting in the top seat of 'Hundred Birds'." Mo Ya's voice didn't tremble in the slightest, and his eyes were completely calm.
Lin Tian slowly shook his head, his smile slightly cold: "I'm not asking if you're afraid of death. What I want to know is—are you afraid that after you die, no one will shed a single tear for you; are you afraid that no one in the world will remember that you ever lived, care about your well-being, or remember your name? Oh... there's still Bai Feng, who might shed a tear for you once. But so what? He is, after all, a wing about to be broken."
Mo Ya's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly, and his voice suddenly rose: "Have you said enough? If you have, then make your move!"
"I'm done." Lin Tian smiled, and the sword energy at his fingertips suddenly dissipated, like smoke and mist, leaving no trace.
Mo Ya was taken aback, his brows furrowing: "What do you mean by this?"
"It didn't mean anything special." Lin Tian shrugged. "That 'Do you want to bask in the sunlight?' I wasn't joking. I can give you a new life."
"Ha—you want me to switch allegiance and become your lackey?" Mo Ya's lips curled into a mocking smile. "Do you think I'm a caged bird?"
"No, no, no..." Lin Tian waved his hands repeatedly, "It's more accurate to say it's a cooperation. I'll protect you, and you'll do a few things for me. The rest of the time, you're still Mo Ya, go wherever you want, do whatever you want. If you feel it's not right one day, just walk away, and we'll both be dignified."
He had initially considered using a soul-controlling technique to lock Mo Ya's mind. But after actually meeting him, that thought faded.
Mo Ya had a solid foundation and was at the peak of the Innate Realm. Forcibly planting the idea of a puppet in his sea of consciousness was like trying to sew iron armor with a fine needle—a futile effort.
If one were to forcefully use magic, it wouldn't be impossible to subdue him temporarily—but this person possesses exceptional talent and is highly likely to break through to the legendary realm. At that time, the restrictions would loosen, and the backlash would be unpredictable. In the end, it would be a waste of effort, and one would have to personally eliminate a promising talent.
"If I refuse... will you kill me?" Mo Ya stared directly at Lin Tian, his gaze like a nail.
Lin Tian didn't answer, but turned around and took a step, the hem of his clothes drawing a neat arc in the night wind.
"What—what's this all about?" Mo Ya blurted out, full of doubt.
Lin Tian paused, turned his head, and smiled lazily: "It's the middle of the night, you're not resting, but I'm still sleepy. Come find me at Zilan Pavilion when you figure it out; if you still can't figure it out... then just pretend we never met tonight." After saying that, he yawned a long yawn, and his figure gradually disappeared into the distance, carefree and without a trace of regret.
The seeds have already been planted, and someone will water and cultivate them for him. He only needs to wait for the fruit to ripen and fall from the vine, then reach out and pick it.
It won't be long. Lin Tian was certain that Ji Wuye was the most diligent gardener.
Mo Ya stood still, his brow furrowed in a mixture of emotions, but he didn't dwell on it for long. With a slight gathering of his breath, he transformed into a black shadow and dashed towards the brightly lit General's Mansion—he still had to report back.
……
Even at midnight, the General's Mansion was still as bright as day.
In the hall, Ji Wuye reclined on a tiger-skin couch, one arm around a stunningly beautiful woman, the other casually toying with the hilt of the sword at his waist. He glanced down at Mo Ya, kneeling on the blue brick floor, his eyes sharp and piercing, like drawn knives: "You said—a master whose skills far surpass yours, whose lightness of movement is thirty percent better than yours, intercepted Han Fei halfway? Then why didn't he snap your neck on the spot?!"
Mo Ya lowered his head and recounted everything he had seen and encountered that night. Naturally, he didn't mention a word about Lin Tian's secret recruitment of him—saying such a thing would be suicide.
"Perhaps... he recognized my identity and, fearing the Grand General's power, dared not act rashly." Mo Ya's voice was low, yet steady and meticulous.
He had already chewed over, swallowed, and pressed these words into his heart before he even stepped into the General's Mansion.
Ji Wuye didn't reply, only staring at him, his gaze as deep and still as two dry wells. The hall was so quiet that the crackling of the candlelight could be heard. Even the beautiful woman nestled against his chest held her breath, her fingertips digging into her palms, afraid to move.
"You've been up all night, go and rest," Ji Wuye suddenly said, his tone as calm as if he were ordering tea.
"Yes, General."
Mo Ya felt a sense of relief, but his back tensed even more. In the instant he turned around, his black feathers fluttered like a rain of ink, and he had vanished without a trace.