"No, that’s not it... That’s not the way it is..."
Today, Baili An didn’t want to waste words, but upon seeing that Ning Feiyan, a person so calm, decisive, and even cruel to himself, had such a weak and incompetent mother, he desperately wanted to strip this woman of her falsely loving veneer.
Without stripping her to the blood-soaked bone, it seemed he would never understand how much pain the child who had been abandoned all those years ago felt.
"From the beginning to the end, you were unwilling to believe in Ning Feiyan, not because she was particularly bad.
Rather, it stemmed from the fact that you treated her with utmost cruelty and indifference. You knew well how cruelly indifferent you were to the child, how could she not harbor resentment towards you? Therefore, you guarded against her, envied her, loathed her, hated her, slandered her."
Mrs. Ning collapsed to the ground, suddenly feeling as if the Fierce Ghost inside her heart had been exposed under the broad daylight, scorched by the sun, tearing her heart apart. She became distraught, "It’s not like that, I didn’t..."
Baili An’s eyes were deep and slightly cool as he looked down at the woman, "You called her a venomous snake, not realizing that the venomous snake had long been residing in your own heart."
"If you truly opened your eyes and took a serious look at her, you would find that underneath the guile harbored in people’s hearts, there also lies a utopia."
He wasn’t sure if she had taken in his words. Mrs. Ning slowly lowered her head, her face disappearing into the shadows. Her voice was hoarse from recent crying as she spoke with difficulty,
"River Lord, may I speak with Fei Yan alone?"
Baili An’s gaze subtly shifted as he looked towards Ning Feiyan.
Ning Feiyan was also looking at him. Seeing his gaze turn towards her, she diverted her eyes and said, "You go wait for me at the street corner first."
Seeing she had no objection, Baili An left her there alone.
The alley beside the tavern was exceptionally desolate, dust hazed in sorrow, the vast Mo City, a corner of melancholy.
The unnamed bun shop at the street corner offered the most common food found in the Mortal World. Even though the fragrance was continuously warm, the business was always tepid.
The shop owner was an old merchant from the Demon Clan with a husky expression. His once robust body was now bent by the years, and brown age spots covered his face,
but when he smiled to invite Baili An to sit, there was none of the killing intent that one might expect from a member of the Demon Clan.
Baili An ordered two baskets of buns and a bowl of porridge, warmed over a small charcoal stove.
The porridge had been bubbling and boiling for who knew how long when suddenly a slender hand lifted the blue cloth curtain.
Ning Feiyan walked in and sat down in front of him, served herself a bowl of hot porridge, and said, "The Monarch’s Return Banquet is ending today. Do you truly... intend to save Hong Zhuang for me?"
Baili An’s hand, which was about to pick up a crab meat dumpling for her, paused in mid-air. He looked at her somewhat peculiarly and asked, "What did Mrs. Ning tell you?"
Ning Feiyan set down the spoon she was holding, squinted her eyes, and said, "It seemed like she said a lot, yet it also felt like she said nothing?"
Seeing that she hadn’t touched the porridge in her bowl, Baili An took a small plate from the side and passed it to her, "If you’re feeling bad, have something sour to stimulate your appetite?"
The plate was neatly lined with bright red hawthorn fruits. Ning Feiyan glanced at it and didn’t refuse.
She took two and ate them.
Looking at Baili An, she suddenly smiled and said, "You’ve been so kind to me, how about I accompany you to watch a good show today?"
Baili An’s interest seemed lukewarm, his gaze falling on the residual crimson on her fingertips as she picked up the hawthorns. He asked in a low voice, "What kind of show?"
At that moment, a cold wind swept around the corner, scattering the steam rising from the steamer baskets of buns.
Her lips curled up slightly, and her voice dispersed in the wind, somewhat indistinct, "A show... about redemption."
As the wind stopped, this appointed trip came to an end.
As the Demon Clan elder in the shop cleared the table, he noticed that the charcoal had extinguished, the porridge had cooled, and the two baskets of buns along with a bowl of porridge were untouched, cold and lifeless.
Only the plate of hawthorn fruits was missing two pieces.