“My familiar — I know him better than anyone. His poison couldn’t possibly have killed him. If he’s dead, you’re involved.” Song Nanxu spoke as if she were pronouncing a sentence. She was determined: the death of her familiar had to be pinned on Xiao Ling’er.
She couldn’t let it be for nothing.
Han Luosu opened his mouth to speak, but Xiao Ling’er caught his sleeve and lowered her voice. “I’ll handle this. Don’t step in.”
Uncle Luo protected her fiercely; she refused to drag him into trouble. After all, whatever debt Uncle Luo owed the Song family, Song Nanxu’s position in the clan suggested the debt — and the favor it represented — was worth a lot. If Song Nanxu really died in these mountains, the Luo family might end up lifelong enemies with the Song house.
The poisonous beast had clearly wanted her dead. She couldn’t let Song Nanxu die, but she could make her life a living hell. For a little poison master like her, reducing someone to misery wasn’t difficult.
Han Luosu looked at her, worried. Xiao Ling’er’s calm, steady gaze — so confident and composed — had a strangely calming effect. He found himself relaxing, oddly persuaded by a child barely past two. He even felt a little embarrassed at how easily he’d been soothed.
“All right,” he said. “But I’m with you. I’ll stand behind you.” Still, his curiosity nagged at him — what had Xiao Ling’er given him just now? He’d been poisoned and hadn’t even noticed at first; he’d assumed the toxin was no threat to him. He’d known about Song Nanxu’s venomous beast, and hadn’t expected the poison to be doubled. The array the child used had redirected the toxin and amplified it — that was why he’d gone under. Then, just as suddenly, the poison had been neutralized. He hadn’t expected Xiao Ling’er to have such a potent antidote in a single pill.
“Han, are you really going to take her side?” Song Nanxu’s voice cracked with fury when she saw his position. Han glanced at her and didn’t bother to answer; it wasn’t even worth it.
Song’s face darkened as she stared at Xiao Ling’er. But Xiao Ling’er, for her part, wasn’t afraid.
“Your familiar tried to hurt me, didn’t he?” she asked, disarmingly calm.
Song snorted. “My familiar has no grudge against you. Why would he attack you?”
“He didn’t attack me for no reason — he sprayed poison at me.” Xiao Ling’er blinked with perfect innocence, wearing the look of a child asking an earnest question. Han couldn’t help smiling. How someone’s parents had taught her to be so endearing was beyond him.
“You were the one who ran forward,” Song insisted. “My familiar was fighting another beast — it was you who charged in.”
“How do you know what your eyes saw was the truth?” Xiao Ling’er’s voice sharpened. “If you’re going to accuse me, produce proof. Otherwise you’re just making trouble.”
There was no more childish lilt to her tone; it had hardened into something almost adult. If she were already cultivating spirit energy, she might even have radiated a pressure that would make Song flinch.
“I saw it with my own eyes,” Song shot back.
“I saw it too — your familiar spraying poison at Xiao Ling’er, and then accidentally spraying itself,” Xiaoying added quietly from the side.
“You two are in cahoots,” Song snapped at Xiaoying. “You’re not trustworthy.”
Xiao Ling’er turned that accusation into a smile. “So you and your familiar aren’t close? If we’re counting closeness, you’re closer to your familiar than I am — Xiaoying’s not even my spirit pet.”
Song had not expected Xiao Ling’er to be so sharp at only a tender age. With Han standing there, she couldn’t force the blame onto the child. Rage flared in her, hot and ugly.
Xiao Ling’er didn’t care about Song’s anger; she was genuinely pleased. Killing one of Song Nanxu’s familiars wasn’t something to be ashamed of.
“If there’s no evidence, this stops here,” Han said softly, stepping out. Song stared at him as if he’d just betrayed everything she stood for. “Han — my familiar is dead. You can’t just let this go.”
“Do I even need to point out the obvious?” Han’s voice turned cold, distant. “Your familiar wasn’t killed by some stranger.” The words hit Song like a blow; she felt the air sucked from her lungs. She hadn’t meant for this to backfire — she’d intended to get rid of Xiao Ling’er, not lose her own companion. She’d never been so humiliated.
Xiao Ling’er, apparently unimpressed by Song’s fury, angled her body toward Han as if seeking confirmation, and then turned her face back at Song with a small, almost mocking smile.
Song’s expression darkened further. If she could have contorted her face into a mask of hatred, she would have; inwardly she already did.
“Right,” Xiao Ling’er said, the smile never leaving her. “Your familiar wasn’t killed by some stranger.” She gave a tiny sigh of mock innocence and, only in her thoughts, finished the sentence: Not a stranger — me. After all, you told your familiar to attack me.
Seeing Xiao Lingxu’s fake innocence made Song’s face go from bad to worse. Xiao Ling’er’s act of fragile helplessness pushed Song closer to anger’s edge. Xiaoying averted his eyes; he’d realized the child had chosen to play the role of the white lotus who makes everyone’s righteous indignation look foolish.
They resumed the march. Xiao Ling’er knew Song Nanxu would have more to say, so when Han announced they’d scout ahead, Xiao Ling’er deliberately lagged a few steps.
Song caught up and leaned close, voice low and dangerous. “Don’t think you can fool Han with this act. The day he finds out who you really are, he’ll be disappointed in you. He’ll turn his back forever.”
Xiao Ling’er turned and smiled at her — sweet, unbothered. “Really? I don’t care.”
She had people who loved and cared for her. Whether Han stayed or left wouldn’t change the center of her world.
“You—” Song hadn’t imagined the person she pined for would be so indifferent. She inhaled sharply, forcing herself calm. “Even if you don’t care, you can’t avoid responsibility for my familiar’s death.”
Xiao Ling’er’s grin remained bright as sunshine. “I’m not trying to dodge responsibility. Your familiar — I killed him. Want revenge? I welcome it.”
With that she broke into a small, jaunty run, sprinting after Han, who was already a few paces ahead. Xiaoying glanced once, then followed her.
Song Nanxu was left at the rear, furious to the point of near hysteria — furious, and utterly helpless.