Chapter 21: The Realm Between Life and Death

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Liu Ru felt an inexplicable sadness upon hearing Su Ziye’s words.

There were so many human emotions she simply couldn’t comprehend.

But as she listened, a great many of the Third Princess’s strange behaviors suddenly seemed to make sense.

“No one has ever seen the Third Princess show any change in expression. She doesn’t cry, nor does she laugh. She feels no sorrow, nor does she know joy,” Su Ziye said quietly, gazing at Liu Ru. “Yet she is, undeniably, a living, breathing person.”

“It’s truly odd if you think about it, for so many of her characteristics are not ones a human could possess. Take, for example, her almost instinctive mastery over space, which seems almost supernatural. Or her body, which neither ages nor grows. In truth, her physical state should be described as some kind of subtle superposition; if she wished, she could withdraw from this world in an instant and become completely untouchable by any being. Yet she can re-enter this world at any time, touch others, even eat.”

“I’ve often wondered whether she actually has a sense of taste. There are many eyewitness accounts of her eating, but it always seems as though she’s only pretending, for she has absolutely no need for food,” Su Ziye continued, pausing for a moment. “This isn’t just my theory, but the conclusion reached by the Scarlet Heart Dojo after long observation and study.”

“So that’s why you made her eat chili peppers?” Liu Ru looked at Su Ziye in astonishment.

She had thought it was just like before, a simple test of friendship—if you can eat spicy food, we’re old friends—but she never imagined it was actually a test of taste.

“Yes,” Su Ziye nodded. “Chili peppers pose no threat to her, but as a pure sensory stimulus, their impact is rather extreme.”

“From her reaction, she does seem to possess a fully functional sense of taste. So, by extension, her physical structure really shouldn’t differ from that of a normal human at all.”

Liu Ru listened quietly as Su Ziye spoke. Yet the more she heard, the deeper the mysteries surrounding the Third Princess seemed to become.

“Let’s return to the topic of ‘I’m sorry,’” Su Ziye went on. “She usually says those words when others display complex emotions.”

“She can’t comprehend human feelings—crying, gratitude, joy, pain. If you try to express these to her, she becomes visibly troubled, even distressed. In the end, she’ll simply say, ‘I’m sorry.’”

“She can’t empathize?” Liu Ru murmured.

“It’s more accurate to say she cannot understand,” Su Ziye replied calmly.

Liu Ru pondered.

If, back when she stood among the ruins of the slaughtered Liu family, her heart seething with anger and sorrow almost impossible to dispel, what would the Third Princess have said had she stood before her then? Faced with such suffering, what words would she have offered?

The answer was almost obvious.

“I’m sorry.”

She could not understand that pain, nor offer any help. Yet she saw it, and could not remain entirely unmoved.

But Su Ziye, when faced with her pain, could help her find a way to ease and vent it. That, perhaps, was the difference between the two of them.

“Nightleaf Academy truly is an extraordinary place,” Liu Ru finally sighed sincerely.

She had only been here a single day, yet already she had encountered people and beings she’d never seen or even imagined before. Now, as she stood on the threshold of Nightleaf Academy, she felt there would surely be more wonders and surprises ahead.

“That’s why I’ve always wanted to come here if I ever had the chance,” Su Ziye nodded quietly. “Of course, when I finally arrived, I realized it was because I had no other options left.”

“Will things get even more dangerous from here?” Liu Ru asked.

Since Su Ziye had gone to such lengths to gain the Third Princess’s help and acquire this nearly perfect safe house, it meant the road to Nightleaf Academy was far more perilous than she’d imagined.

“Yes,” Su Ziye said calmly, meeting Liu Ru’s gaze. “But neither of us has any way out now.”

“I’m not the kind of person who likes to hide forever. So this is the best choice I have.”

“Why would anyone want to kill you? Did you offend them?” Liu Ru pressed further.

Once, she wouldn’t have asked so many questions. But after spending time together, she found these questions came naturally.

“In this world, you don’t need to offend someone for them to want you dead,” Su Ziye said with a faint smile. “I am not important in myself. But my absence is very important to them.”

Outside the door, the sound of water was clear in the kitchen.

The Third Princess stood silently at the faucet, rinsing greasy dishes beneath the running water.

Her face showed no expression at all. Even though the conversation between the two seemed to echo right beside her, she showed not the slightest reaction.

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Nightleaf City, Binshan Manor.

Even in a place as valuable as Nightleaf City, there were a few spacious and elegant compounds handed down through generations—priceless, unobtainable for most.

To have a place in this city was, in itself, the ultimate symbol of power and wealth.

At this moment, Xiye stood in the courtyard of Binshan Manor, gazing at the overcast, rain-streaked sky, lost deep in thought.

He remained thus until a respectful voice sounded behind him: “Your Highness, I have it.”

Xiye turned to look at the speaker. “Lock onto all suspicious targets for me. Unless something unusual happens, he should be on this list.”

Saying this, Xiye glanced at his subordinate, who stood in the rainy night. “The Empire has very few connections in this city, and yet you managed to get the entire Nightleaf Academy enrollment list so quickly. How did you do it?”

After all, this was highly classified information.

At Xiye’s question, the subordinate coughed, a little embarrassed. “Actually, it wasn’t especially difficult…”

“Not difficult?” Xiye was curious now. “Explain.”

“I got the list from the Academy’s Student Council,” the subordinate replied, facing his prince.

Xiye was struck by the absurdity of it. It was common knowledge that the Student Council handled such documents. If he got the list from them, how was that any different from an inside job?

“How much did it cost?” Xiye asked.

The subordinate quietly gave a number.

Xiye’s expression grew even stranger.

“Are they really that poor?” he blurted out.

Surely poverty alone wouldn’t drive them to such extremes.

“The Student Council controls all the taxes and allocations in Nightleaf City, and has countless ties to the Western District. They’re said to have wealth rivaling nations,” the subordinate answered quietly. “But rumor has it, all this is closely tied to the current Student Council President.”

“Oh, and one more thing.” The subordinate respectfully offered a delicate, purple-red wooden box.

“What’s this?” Xiye curiously accepted the box.

“A gift from the Student Council, with a hint that it should be delivered to you,” the subordinate explained.

Xiye smiled as he looked at the box. “Did you open it?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” the subordinate replied respectfully.

Xiye nodded, opened the box, and unfurled the piece of silk within. He read it at a glance, and the amusement on his face deepened.

“June 3rd, Nightleaf Grand Restaurant… This is even more interesting than I’d expected.”