Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Six Conditions of Paradise

The warm and stirring voice burst forth like flames in the silent air, as if it could ignite the cold, desolate shop. Reflected in Tia’s emerald eyes was a face alight with excitement and warmth, and her heart was deeply shaken.

Ascending to Paradise had always been her dream.

She was utterly convinced she could reach Paradise, yet had no clear idea of the means to do so. Everything about Paradise was shrouded in vagueness; only scattered fragments of words hinted at its existence. As for the proclamations of various religions, they seemed unreliable at best—more like lies fabricated to beguile followers.

“Do you know how to ascend to Paradise?”

Tia suppressed her shock, keeping her voice calm. Whenever she faced important matters, she never let emotion cloud her thoughts. She always forced herself to remain composed, rarely experiencing the kind of excitement that would make her want to drill into her own skull with her fingers.

Wenxin took a deep breath, striving to steady her emotions. “I’m not entirely clear on the steps required to ascend to Paradise. I only know six conditions must be met. The first is the power of a sword spirit attuned to time.”

As she spoke, Wenxin glanced at the famed sword at Tia’s waist and ventured, “Is the initial ability of your sword related to time?”

After a brief hesitation, Tia nodded. “That’s right.”

“I knew it!” Wenxin’s hands trembled with excitement, causing the tiger skull atop her cane to shake and emit a faint rattle. “With a face like yours, you were born to rule above all others. The ability to manipulate time suits your imperial nature perfectly!”

Her voice brimmed with reverence and awe, as though worshipping a deity descended upon the mortal world.

Tia was unmoved by the flattery and continued, “What is the next condition?”

“The second is fourteen incantations imbued with divine power. So far, I have only uncovered three: Thorned Stigmata, Solomon’s Broken Key, and the Reversed Hanged Man of the Tarot.” For a moment, regret flickered across Wenxin’s aged face, quickly replaced by determination. “The third condition is to find a suitable location. But where that place is, I have not yet deduced. As for the remaining three conditions, my master never spoke of them. Still, if I follow you, I am sure we can fulfill the rest together.”

She paused, then smacked her own forehead. “Look at my memory! I forgot to ask your name, my lady?”

“Tia Pendragon,” she replied coolly.

At the sound of the surname, Wenxin’s face lit with admiration. “No wonder you possess such unrivaled fortune—you are a descendant of British royalty.”

Tia’s voice was as distant and indifferent as an echo from the mountains. “Yes.”

It was said that old Jocen, after committing some forbidden act, had been banished from Britain by King Arthur. The details were never spoken of. After leaving Britain, he settled in Shanghai. Relying on the prestige of the Pendragon family, he swiftly gained the support of the city’s elite and secured his place. After all, Shanghai never lacked those enamored with foreign nobility. Yet from then on, there was no further contact with the British branch of the family. Tia herself had never set foot on British soil and did not consider herself British.

“Let’s set aside matters of Paradise for now,” Tia said, abruptly changing the subject. Her voice sliced through the air like a blade. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

Wenxin was taken aback. She shook her head, her bony fingers gripping the cane tightly. “No, but if you ever need me to, Lady Tia, I would kill for you without hesitation!”

Tia saw that Wenxin was telling the truth and felt relieved. If this old woman had killed before, she would not have wanted further dealings with her, wary of arousing Bai Yujing’s suspicions. Not having killed was best.

She emphasized solemnly, “Without my command, you are not to do anything wrong or bring me trouble, understand?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll help you tidy up the shop.”

“No, no, how could I trouble Lady Tia with such tasks? Please, allow me!”

Wenxin hurried to take over the work. Tia did not insist—this was an employer volunteering, not her coercion. She leaned against the wall, watching Wenxin unpack the shop’s packages.

Inside were all manner of strange items: an ancient astrolabe, a jeweled dagger, bone fragments carved with runes…

Clearly, Wenxin was planning to open a fortune-telling shop here.

Tia narrowed her eyes. Was this old woman truly trustworthy?

Despite Wenxin’s apparent devotion—even willingness to die for her—Tia, since birth, had trusted only one person: her late mother.

Beyond her, Tia trusted no one.

Anyone could betray her.

And she would rather be the betrayer than the betrayed.

Her fingers idly brushed the hilt of her sword as her thoughts returned to the six conditions Wenxin had mentioned.

After some consideration, she decided not to rush after Paradise just yet. Comprehending Bankai and advancing to the rank of Ninth-grade Spirit Master were more urgent. Otherwise, with her current level at Eighth-grade, she genuinely feared being cut off by someone else on the path to Paradise—becoming another’s stepping stone would be nothing short of ridiculous.

...

Night fell, and the sky above Shanghai was studded with stars, like diamonds set into black silk.

The steam from the bathroom had yet to fully disperse. A thin mist lingered on the mirror as Liu Shuangling rose from her bath. Droplets slid down her slender body, sparkling in the light. Her toes, tinged pink, pressed lightly against the cold tiles, leaving a faint trail of wet footprints.

She walked to the mirror, reached for a white towel, and began drying her long, damp black hair. The towel slowly moved down, grazing her fair skin, attentive to every detail. When she reached the denser patches of hair, she wiped more thoroughly, ensuring not a single drop remained.

Lavender-patterned bra and panties made her skin appear even more luminous, like porcelain in the moonlight, exuding a subtle glow. At night, there was no need to wear the Azure Gate’s uniform, so her undergarments could be as colorful as she pleased.

She slipped into a lilac dress, its intricate patterns shimmering beneath the light like violets blooming in the night sky. Standing before the mirror, the hum of the hairdryer echoed through the quiet room as her long hair dried. She deftly twisted her hair up, leaving a fringe to soften her brow with a touch of languor and mystery.

Finally, she draped herself in a black robe embroidered with hidden runes, concealing her spiritual pressure and her face.

Tonight, Liu Shuangling was not seeking an experimental subject but rather the black market, hoping to find research materials on Orochi. Perhaps there was something in those documents she could use. After all, Orochi seemed the type deeply versed in scientific research—maybe he could be of help to her.