The Price of Interference

Such was the overbearing and unreasonable nature of this ability, effectively achieving the impossible feat of reversing causality.

Dangers could arise from myriad sources, and without true intelligence, it was nearly impossible to discern the root of one’s sense of crisis, often leading to erroneous judgments.

Xiang Qi’s talent excelled in this very aspect: she could, to a certain extent, interfere with impending crises, bringing them within a controllable range, thereby minimizing the damage she sustained.

For instance, if both a knife and a gun simultaneously threatened Xiang Qi’s safety, she couldn’t determine whether she would first be cut by the knife or shot by the bullet.

It was in such moments that she could utilize her talent, erasing the possibility of a more dangerous gunshot wound and transforming it into a knife injury.

While it didn’t truly eliminate danger, Xiang Qi could choose the type of harm she suffered and the resulting effects.

It was an unsolvable bug, nothing short of it.

That being said, the limitations were considerable. The primary constraint was the consumption of energy. If it merely involved foreseeing danger, it would still be within tolerable limits.

However, once alteration was involved, it could lead to extreme exhaustion and mental fatigue at best, or instantaneous death in the wilderness at worst.

Based solely on this, Xiang Qi had condemned the ability, vowing never to use such power unless she was truly pushed to a desperate corner.

Now, she found herself barely able to bear it.

“What a miscalculation…” Xiang Qi bowed her head, feeling an abnormal heat throughout her body. Her mind throbbed with needle-like pain, and her ears buzzed.

All she wanted was to lie down and sleep, hoping to slightly alleviate this unsettling sensation.

How could she describe it? It was akin to the feeling of having gone three days and nights without sleep, after frantically completing over a hundred practice exams.

‘I’m probably going to get a nosebleed,’ Xiang Qi thought, her eyelids trembling. Her long eyelashes fluttered, as if she might drift into sleep at any moment.

She had merely transformed the possibility of being discovered while acting into the possibility of Shu Xun, enraged and desperate, launching a deadly counterattack after the deed was done.

This semi-experimental maneuver had only worsened her situation.

Those few hours of rest earlier had been utterly wasted. Her current state was immeasurably worse than it had been that afternoon.

Xiang Qi shook her head, her waist-length black hair swaying with the movement, and she couldn’t help but sigh at her own oversight.

‘If only I had known, I would have used other methods. Although they would have been a bit more troublesome, they wouldn’t have been impossible to resolve.’

‘In this state, how can I possibly cope with the bitter battle ahead?’ Xiang Qi bit down hard on her arm, her tender skin breaking to reveal tiny beads of blood.

The physical pain cleared her mind considerably, and after releasing some blood, the feverish heat on her face also diminished slightly.

Patting her cheeks, Xiang Qi exited the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

She completely disregarded the resentful expression on Shu Xun’s face, who lay motionless within the room.

“A desperate counterattack requires the ability to do so… A stab that deep, I doubt she can even move, let alone mount any effective resistance…”

Xiang Qi felt she had grasped a clever application of her talent. Yet, the thought of the talent’s terrifying consumption immediately pushed all other thoughts deep into her heart.

‘Forget it, forget it. With my fragile constitution, these delicate limbs, it’s better to avoid such risky maneuvers. It wouldn’t be worth it if I ended up killing myself.’

As she considered this, Xiang Qi squeezed her arm, her eyes darkening.

‘I’ve killed someone…’

Though she had long prepared herself for killing, the actual act brought a different sensation—a suffocating feeling in her chest, something that couldn’t be released.

“‘It’s all because of what that guy did, making me completely unbothered by killing and seeing blood now…'”

She thought of her childhood experiences, marveling that she had survived such an environment and still retained a basic sense of conscience.

This helped to dilute the guilt of having killed with her own hands.

“Don’t blame me. This is a necessary realization in the game. To survive, one must stake everything on pursuing that elusive chance.”

There were other things to do. Xiang Qi adjusted her state, then ascended the stairs amidst the howling wind outside the window.

****

Meanwhile, Gu Changqing and Xiang Ke were staring at each other, eye to eye.

They had been waiting in the wind for over an hour, yet the promised person was nowhere in sight. Even with Gu Changqing’s temperament, he couldn’t help but suspect they had fallen into a trap.

“You said Liu Zhengxuan would be here, didn’t you? We’ve been standing in the wind for so long, where is he?”

Faced with Gu Changqing’s suspicious gaze, Xiang Ke also appeared somewhat guilty.

This was indeed her miscalculation. She had intended for them to have a good talk, but the blue-haired man had stood them up at a crucial moment.

“Don’t rush, he might have overslept. Let’s wait a little longer…” Xiang Ke explained, silently cursing a certain someone in her heart.

‘Whose evil did I believe to trust Liu Zhengxuan’s words?’

Xiang Ke’s mood was far from pleasant, yet she showed no sign of it on the surface. She desperately wanted to rush over, grab the blue-haired man by the neck, pin him to the ground, and interrogate him about what new trick he was pulling.

‘It seems my previous display of strength wasn’t convincing enough; I haven’t truly made this guy feel threatened.’

“My apologies, I’m late. I accidentally overslept. It shouldn’t be too late, I hope.” At that moment, a figure with iconic blue hair appeared on the rooftop, greeting them with a smile.

Seeing that the main person had arrived, Gu Changqing, though still somewhat displeased, managed to restrain his impulsiveness, waiting to see how this fellow intended to convince him.

Given that he knew these seasoned individuals each possessed strange and wonderful abilities, he still had sufficient confidence in his own martial prowess. Making someone lose their ability to resist by surprise was not difficult for him.

Talents were mostly supplementary; true hard power was the foundation.

Upon seeing the blue-haired youth arrive, Xiang Ke quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Despite her earlier display of dominance, she was actually at the end of her rope.

The massive amount of stamina consumed during her battle with the muscular man was very real, and she could barely exert any strength now.

Both of her talents were also unusable due to her body’s exhaustion. She was currently at her weakest.

It was precisely for this reason that she had chosen to use her last remaining bargaining chip to seek out Liu Zhengxuan, even at the cost of consuming her talents.

As long as her objective could be achieved, all of it would be worth it.