79: Chapter 79 The Empress's Tolerance

Wang Sheng sat on the steps outside the Chiefs Tent.

Moonlight poured down like quicksilver, and the silver-blue radiance covered the stone steps in front of the Chiefs Tent like silk woven by the wild gods from moonlight.

The sound of the Lingxi River, resembling a gentle accompaniment, drifted from afar, like the oldest lullaby on the Wild Continent.

He rested his hands on his knees, gazing at Guangming Village beneath the moonlight.

The silver-blue outlines of the spirit crops in the spirit fields were like a silent sea under the moonlight, and the wooden fence of the primary defense wall stood like silent guards in the moonlight.

He was waiting.

Waiting for someone.

Footsteps came from the direction of the medical tent.

They were very light, like a spirit cat treading on moonlight, but Wang Sheng's spirit power perception caught that aura; the spirit power fluctuation of a Spirit Sound Master was like the softest pink glimmer.

Amidst the silver-blue moonlight, it was like a pink star hidden in the night sky by the wild gods.

Zhao Linger quietly slipped out of the medical tent.

Her right arm was wrapped in white bandages, looking like silver threads wound around a piece of white jade in the moonlight. The moonlight spilled onto her bandages, just like silver-blue threads wrapping around white jade soaked in moonlight.

She had changed out of her spirit vine combat suit and put on a white cotton blouse, which Hua Jieyu had found for her from the spare clothing in the medical tent.

The loose blouse could not hide the devilish curves beneath her petite frame.

Her slender waist beneath the white blouse seemed like a curve outlined by the wild gods with moonlight, and the shallow dimples at her waist appeared like two tiny silver-blue whirlpools in the moonlight.

The hem of the blouse barely covered her waist, revealing a section of fair, firm abdomen. The curve of her navel was like the stamen of a spirit flower, gleaming with a warm, jade-like luster under the moonlight.

Her short hair in the moonlight was like amber finely dyed with silver powder by the wild gods, with every strand shimmering with a silver-blue glimmer.

She was barefoot, her toes on the moonlit stone steps looking like ten pieces of white jade polished by the wild gods.

She walked to Wang Sheng's side without speaking, simply sitting down next to him.

Their shoulders brushed against each other, and the moonlight spilled onto them, as if the wild gods were weaving their figures together with silver-blue threads.

The night breeze blew from the direction of the Lingxi River, carrying the fresh fragrance of spirit crops and the cool dampness of water, gently brushing past Zhao Linger's short hair and the white bandages on her right arm.

It brushed over her collarbones exposed outside the blouse; her collarbones were like two silver streams carved by the wild gods, glowing with a warm luster under the moonlight.

"Wang Sheng,"

Her voice was no longer the playful tone of the daytime, nor the trembling from the journey back.

Instead, it was as quiet as moonlight falling into the Lingxi River, like a Spirit Sound Master finding the most soothing note in the wild night.

"You said during the day that after we got back, you had something to tell me."

Wang Sheng turned to look at her.

Under the moonlight, Zhao Linger's baby face shed all its quirkiness, the silver-bell-like laughter she usually had when playing, and the cloying sweetness when acting spoiled.

It revealed an expression he had never seen before—earnest, soft, like a spirit flower quietly blooming in the moonlight.

Her large, round eyes were like the two brightest stars in the moonlight, and the silver-blue moonlight falling into her pupils was like the deepest night sky of the Wild Continent reflected on the surface of the Lingxi River.

Her eyelashes were like the fine stamens of a spirit flower, trembling slightly in the moonlight.

Her lips were slightly pursed, no longer in the pouting manner she used when acting spoiled, but with an earnestness like a Spirit Sound Master taking a deep breath before a performance.

The moonlight covered her entire body like a silver-blue gauze garment, and the white blouse looked like a silk robe woven by the wild gods with moonlight.

It outlined the devilish figure beneath her petite frame, making it look like the most captivating painting on the Wild Continent.

Her slender waist resembled a willow branch soaked in moonlight, the dimples at her waist like two tiny crescents, and the section of fair abdomen revealed by the hem of the blouse was like white jade polished by the wild gods with moonlight.

Wang Sheng looked at her.

He looked into her eyes, looking at the anticipation sparkling like starlight in those large, round eyes.

He looked at her slightly pursed lips, the white bandages wrapped around her right arm, and her eyelashes trembling slightly from nervousness.

He remembered many things.

The books that scattered when she fell in the cafeteria, and when he squatted down to pick them up, she looked at him with bright eyes.

The way she was moved to tears by chili sauce during the autumn outing, and when he handed her a tissue, her hand trembled slightly as she took it, but she was smiling.

When she stood on stage singing at the New Year's gala, the lights were too bright for him to see her expression, but he heard her voice, a voice that was like the sweetest melody of a Spirit Sound Master.

He had always wondered why Zhao Linger always appeared by his side—in the cafeteria, on the autumn outing, at the gala.

Her figure was like the gentlest note of a Spirit Sound Master, always appearing in his life inadvertently.

Today, when she lay on his back and said those words, he finally understood.

"Linger,"

He reached out his hand.

Zhao Linger did not hesitate.

She handed him her left hand.

That hand was slender and warm, like white jade soaked in moonlight, with the pink glimmer of a Spirit Sound Master's spirit power still lingering on her fingertips, like five tiny pink stars.

Wang Sheng held her hand.

His palm was slightly hot—the temperature of a Holy Light Warrior, just like a small sun on the Wild Continent.

He closed his fingers, holding her hand completely in his palm, just like the wild gods holding their most cherished spirit flower in their hands.

Zhao Linger's fingers trembled slightly in his palm, as if a Spirit Sound Master had plucked the first note on their most cherished instrument. Then, she grasped his hand back.

Her slender fingers wound through his like spirit vines, fingers interlaced, like the tightest knot woven by the wild gods using moonlight and sunlight.

"You said you wanted to lean on me forever,"

His voice was like the golden tolling of a bell, piercing through the wild night, through the sound of the Lingxi River, and through the moonlight.

"I heard you."

Zhao Linger's tears were like broken silver in the moonlight.

One drop, two drops, like the clearest spring water of the Lingxi River, welling up from her large, round eyes and sliding down her cheeks, which were like white jade soaked in moonlight.

They dripped onto the backs of their clasped hands, warm, just like the softest rain on the Wild Continent.

"Then lean on me forever."

Four words, appearing like a vow written by the wild gods with a golden pen in the silver-blue night sky.

Zhao Linger threw herself into his arms.

Her petite body pressed against his chest, as if a spirit sparrow had returned to its nest, or a spirit flower had finally found the soil in which to bloom in the moonlight.

Her slender left arm wrapped around his waist, and although her right hand was wrapped in bandages, she still tried hard to rest it on his shoulder.

She buried her face in his chest, her tears like the clearest spring water of the Lingxi River, soaking his clothes, warm, like the softest rain on the Wild Continent.

Her heartbeat was like the sweetest melody.

"Thump, thump, thump,"

And his heartbeat,

"Thump, thump, thump,"

Intertwined together, like the most beautiful song on the Wild Continent. The hearing of a Spirit Sound Master was like the most precise instrument.

Weaving the beating of two hearts into a symphony as if composed by the wild gods themselves—steady golden drumbeats and a rapid pink melody.

In the moonlight, in the sound of the Lingxi River, and in the night of Guangming Village, they perfectly blended together.

Moonlight poured down like quicksilver, spilling onto the two figures embracing in front of the Chiefs Tent, as if the wild gods had woven them into an eternal painting with silver-blue threads.

On the second floor of the Chiefs Tent,

Shen Xun'er stood before the window.

The moon-white ceremonial robe of the Moonlight Priestess was like a flag woven by the wild gods from moonlight in the silver-blue light.

Her long, dark hair cascaded like a waterfall in the night breeze, and her moist, almond-shaped eyes peered through the window lattice, watching the two figures clinging to each other downstairs.

She saw the moment Zhao Linger threw herself into Wang Sheng's arms.

She saw the two figures become one under the moonlight, and saw Zhao Linger's petite body pressed against Wang Sheng's chest.

The corners of her mouth curved, like a crescent moon reflected on the surface of the water.

In those curved corners, there was no jealousy.

Shen Xun'er was the first wife; she was the Moonlight Priestess, and she was Wang Sheng's first wife.

She knew better than anyone that on this Wild Continent, Wang Sheng needed more than just her.

Wang Sheng's SSS-rank aura: Spreading Branches and Leaves.

This was not a tribal ability she could change, nor did she need to.

Because in the look in Zhao Linger's eyes when she lay on Wang Sheng's back and said those words, she saw the same light she had once had.

It was not a struggle, not a fight, but a girl gathering all her courage, walking toward the person she had waited three years for.

Shen Xun'er had once been that girl too—the girl who gathered the courage to confess by the bonfire, the girl who had her hand held by Wang Sheng for the first time in the Chiefs Tent.

How could she be jealous of her former self?

"That's the fourth one."

She said softly, her voice devoid of jealousy, only a gentle relief like moonlight, as if the Moonlight Priestess had completed the gentlest ritual on the night of the full moon.

Then she turned around.

The hem of her moon-white ceremonial robe rippled in the silver-blue moonlight like a ripple woven by the wild gods from moonlight as she turned.

She walked toward the sleeping chamber.

To prepare a new room for tonight.

The East Chamber.

That was the room in the Chiefs Tent facing the Lingxi River, where moonlight spilled in through the window.

It was like silver-blue threads covering the Savage Beast skin carpet. Shen Xun'er personally laid the softest Savage Beast skin on the bed.

She placed the frost moon orchid from the Spirit Garden on the windowsill; the cold, faint fragrance of the frost moon orchid was like the scent of moonlight itself. She placed a moonlight rose in the spirit stone vase at the head of the bed.

The moon-white petals were like the gentlest dream on the Wild Continent in the silver-blue moonlight.

She stood in the center of the room, looking around: the moon-white Savage Beast skin, the cold, faint fragrance of the frost moon orchid, and the gentleness of the moonlight rose were like a spirit nest personally decorated by the wild gods with moonlight.

"It's ready," she said softly.

Then, she walked out of the East Chamber and gently closed the door. The footsteps of the Moonlight Priestess in the corridor sounded like moonlight falling on the Lingxi River.

Gentle and quiet.

She walked back to the master bedroom and stood before the window for a moment. Moonlight poured down like quicksilver, and the sound of the Lingxi River was like a gentle accompaniment.

She looked out the window at the empty stone steps downstairs. Wang Sheng and Zhao Linger were gone; they had probably returned to the Chiefs Tent.

The corners of her mouth curved again, like a crescent moon reflected on the surface of the water.

"Tomorrow, I'll prepare a moon-white nightgown for Linger," she murmured to herself.

Her voice was like moonlight falling into the Lingxi River—gentle, quiet, and carrying a composure that only the Moonlight Priestess possessed.

Outside the window, the sound of the Lingxi River was like the oldest lullaby on the Wild Continent. Moonlight poured down like quicksilver, covering all of Guangming Village.

The silver-blue light of the Ancestral Spirit Altar stood like a silent lighthouse in the moonlight.

The moonlight roses in the Spirit Garden swayed gently in the night breeze, like a silver-blue sea.

And in the East Chamber of the Chiefs Tent, the moonlight rose bloomed quietly in the spirit stone vase, like an invitation letter written by the wild gods with moonlight.

Waiting for a girl who had waited for three years.

To push open that door tonight.