Chapter 828 - 695: Feeding and the Whetstone

Chapter 828: Chapter 695: Feeding and the Whetstone

"Who?" Raven asked, terse and to the point.

The Chief Member softly spat out a single name.

The moment he heard that name, Raven clearly froze, shock and suspicion written all over the face beneath his mask.

He looked at the Governor in bafflement, unable to stop himself from asking:

"You... after going to all this trouble, what exactly are you trying to do?"

The Governor only smiled, saying nothing.

Seeing he could not pry out an answer, Raven stopped wasting his breath and instead asked:

"Then at least tell me, this ’period of time’ you mentioned—how long is it, exactly? I can’t protect someone indefinitely."

A faintly meaningful smile appeared on the Governor’s face as he said:

"You’ll know when the time comes. Don’t worry, it won’t be too long."

This vague and hazy deadline made Raven unbearably irritable deep down, leaving him with the stifling sense of being led by the nose.

But he needed the Red Wax.

He drew a deep breath again, as if setting his resolve, and said in a low voice, "After it’s done..."

Before he could finish, the Governor cut in:

"I’ll give you another pellet of Red Wax. Fair trade, fooling neither child nor elder."

Raven had originally wanted to try bargaining, to see if he could wring a little more out of it.

But when he met the Governor’s wooden eyes, devoid of any ripple of emotion, the words that had reached his lips were forcibly swallowed back down.

He fell silent, whipped around, his black robes raising a gust of icy wind, and strode toward the door.

This time, the Governor did not call him back.

The door closed softly behind him.

The office sank back into stillness, with only the desk lamp burning alone.

After a long time, the Chief Governor slowly rose, walked to the window, lifted a corner of the heavy curtain, and looked down at the city below, lit by the glow of the Upper City.

"A fine, delicious feast demands meticulous cooking—just as the humans of the Lower City cannot grow without the Upper City’s feeding."

The ghostly murmur drifted around the room...

.....

The Upper City.

The Song Mansion, as the residence of one of the ancient Divine Bloodline Clans, was not a simple building, but a perfect fusion of archaic architectural aesthetics and cutting-edge technological defenses.

The glazed roof tiles glistened with a moist sheen under the cold light, beneath which an invisible force field lay concealed; beside the vermilion corridor pillars stood not only stone-carved auspicious beasts, but also defensive automatons, quietly poised, their eyes gleaming red.

Jingsi Hall, where the third branch of the family resided, was located on the western side of the clan’s architectural complex. Though not as towering and domineering as Qingtian Hall of the main branch, it possessed its own air of refined nobility.

The hall’s floor was paved with Peaceful Heart Jade tiles sourced from some Hidden Sect, polished enough to mirror one’s face; walking upon them, a coolness rose from the soles of the feet, calming the mind and settling the breath.

Ink-wash paintings of profound mood hung on all four walls, the mountains and clouds within seeming to flow slowly; on the purple sandalwood shelf in the corner were placed strange, unnamed potted plants, their crystalline foliage like glazed glass, emitting faint bioluminescence.

Yet all this carefully crafted elegance and tranquility was utterly destroyed by the low-pressure aura radiating from the beautiful woman seated on the main seat.

The mistress of the third branch, of the Song-Cao Clan, given name Guanyin, sat upright at the chief position, clad in a floor-length gown embroidered with complex cloud patterns, the fabric some rare kind of bio-velvet that shifted hue with the changing light.

On her head she wore a circular cover of completely transparent material, somewhere between crystal and reinforced glass, fitting her coiffure with exquisite precision, like a miniature firmament.

Beneath the crown was a well-maintained, still-alluring face, but at this moment that face was covered in frost. Her willow brows were sharply knitted, and in her beautiful eyes surged a suppressed fury and deep anxiety.

Her nails, painted a bright bean-red, tapped against the armrest of the purple sandalwood chair, producing a dull "thock-thock" sound. Each tap fell upon the hearts of those standing in attendance within the hall, leaving them afraid even to breathe too loudly.

Seated below her to the side was her eldest son, Song Kuangyi.

He too wore a Celestial Crown, dressed in a moon-white long robe over which lay a raven-blue soft-satin vest, his features handsome.

He had long been known for his gentle temperament and broad kindness toward others, and his reputation within and outside the clan was excellent.

Yet now, the face that was usually touched with a mild smile was rarely shrouded in gloom, his brows knotted into an inextricable tangle.

Song Kuangyi rose, bowed to the mother on the main seat, and said:

"Mother, please do not let worry and grief overtax you; your health is what matters most.

As for younger brother... the heavens watch over the virtuous. Perhaps he is only temporarily trapped somewhere, and no great misfortune will befall him."

Song-Cao Clan suddenly lifted her head, a sharp glint flashing in her eyes:

"How can I not worry? Your brother has vanished, and those useless wretches in Lower City District 9 still don’t even know who took him.

They can’t even find out whether Kuangyan is alive or dead—an utterly incompetent rabble!"

Song Kuangyi let out a sigh, striving to keep his tone calm:

"Mother, pray compose your anger. This matter indeed came upon us suddenly; for Lower City District 9 to fail to uncover the cause right away may... perhaps be somewhat understandable."

"Understandable?"

Song-Cao Clan seemed to have heard something ridiculous, and slammed her hand down on the purple sandalwood tea table beside her,

"I know you are soft-hearted by nature, but right now it is your own blood brother who has gone missing in Zone 9, his life or death unknown—yet you would still defend those worthless creatures?!"

Song Kuangyi shook his head and said:

"Mother, you misunderstand. I am not excusing them. What I mean is..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the servants standing with bowed heads in the hall. Song-Cao Clan understood, and impatiently waved her hand. The servants, as if granted amnesty, quickly withdrew from the hall.