She had expected this wave of embarrassment and annoyance to make her truly angry. Yet, after she touched her lips, Isis inexplicably recalled the sensation of her kiss on Beacai’s forehead.
Though Beacai’s forehead carried a rich fragrance, it lacked the softness of her cheek, making the touch less than perfect.
A hollow feeling settled in her heart. She couldn’t discern if it was due to not having kissed Beacai’s cheek, or something else entirely. All she knew was that the Isis of the present was utterly different from her former self.
Ever since her soul had been defiled, she found herself growing increasingly tolerant of Beacai’s antics. At times, she even indulged in mischievous, almost impish acts herself.
If this continued, would she truly descend into a malevolent deity?
A flicker of unease crossed her mind. Yet, Isis felt certain she wouldn’t become a malevolent deity, for her soul and consciousness remained lucid, still capable of discerning right from wrong.
She had experienced many things she wouldn’t have done as the World Tree. These actions were harmless, yet the novelty they brought somewhat captivated her.
For a moment, she found herself unsure if this transformation was for better or worse.
Observing Isis lost in thought, Beacai touched her own forehead. Feeling a trace of dampness, she smiled suggestively:
“…Mama, if you’re being a tsundere, you could find another way to kiss me. There’s no need to pretend to fall.”
“Who would ever fake such a thing just to kiss you…”
Rising from her position, Isis straightened her dress, eager to move past the topic quickly. She extended a hand to Beacai, saying, “Come on, let’s continue enjoying the celebration!”
Yet, while Isis wished to avoid the subject, Beacai had no such intention.
“Mama’s lips were damp and soft, and they carried such a lovely fragrance. I absolutely adored it!”
Her gaze lingered on Isis’s lips, as if Beacai wanted another kiss. Isis’s expression stiffened. She withdrew her hand and, without uttering another word, walked directly towards the inn’s staircase.
“Huh? Mama! Wait for me!”
A voice tinged with laughter echoed down the corridor. Beacai eventually caught up to Isis, and together they made their way back to the celebration.
****
After escorting Anna back to the inn, darkness had already enveloped the sky. The Divine Birth Festival’s celebration was nearing its end. In the very center of Perfume Street, a blood-red tree emerged from the blood pool, its slender branches extending beyond the crimson depths.
At the tips of these branches hung countless bamboo slips of various colors. Each slip bore densely written wishes, serving as prayers from the devotees to the Blood God.
Passersby, regardless of their faith in the Blood Church, would take a bamboo slip from a nearby basket. After inscribing their desires, they would hang it from a branch tip, hoping the Blood God would grant their wishes.
Whether the Blood God truly heard their wishes was of no concern to them. After all, these wishes were more akin to prayers for a beautiful future, serving as their spiritual motivation for the new year.
Isis had intended to bypass this Wishing Tree and head towards the back of Perfume Street. However, Beacai took her hand, pointing to the basket of bamboo slips nearby, indicating her desire to hang her own wish on a branch tip.
Had she been strolling with an ordinary girl, Isis might have understood the reason for this. But Beacai was the Blood God herself. Why would she hang a slip on a Wishing Tree that was essentially dedicated to her?
“The object of this Wishing Tree’s prayers is you, isn’t it?”
“Of course.”
“Then, if you make a wish, does it still hold any meaning?”
“Of course it has meaning! I hope that the divine me can hear my wish and strive to fulfill it.”
After uttering words that somewhat baffled Isis, Beacai took two bamboo slips from the basket, keeping one for herself and handing the other to Isis.
After writing her wish on the bamboo slip, Beacai hung it on a branch tip. She then turned to Isis, impatiently urging, “Mama, you should make a wish too. Think of it as a prayer for a beautiful future.”
“Alright, alright.”
Unable to resist her, Isis reluctantly wrote her own wish on a bamboo slip, hanging it just in front of Beacai’s.
Witnessing this, Beacai let out a small hum. Taking Isis’s hand, she prepared to lead her to their next destination. “Come on, we can go to the next place now.”
“Oh.”
After taking a few steps, Beacai noticed Isis’s attention had drifted to the stalls lining the street. Subtly, she crooked her finger, and the Wishing Tree within the blood pool began to tremble faintly.
Her wish was actually quite simple: she wanted to receive a gift from Mama. The reason she wrote it down was precisely to prompt Mama to do the same.
As the Blood God, she could, of course, freely inspect the wishes on the Wishing Tree. She wanted to discover Mama’s wish and then fulfill it.
Naturally, if it were a wish that crossed her boundaries, she might have to reconsider…
Locating the bamboo slip Mama had hung, she secretly peered at it with her divine consciousness.
[I wish Beacai would stay until the end of tonight’s celebration.]
‘Hmm? What kind of wish is this?’
She didn’t quite understand the meaning of this wish.
According to the usual Divine Birth Festival proceedings, once the Wishing Tree vanished, it would be time for the various priests to present their offerings. At such times, she was typically absent, as she had no desire to even look at those rituals.
Yet, despite her aversion, upon receiving these offerings, she would still use her divine power to bestow a small blessing upon the believers, as a sign of divine pleasure.
For Isis to want her to stay until the end of the Divine Birth Festival celebration, did it not mean she wanted her to witness these priests present their filthy and unsightly offerings?
Her heart felt a certain resistance, but this was her mother’s wish, one she felt compelled to fulfill. Moreover, compared to other wishes, this one was remarkably easy to grant.
Isis, whose hand Beacai still held, sensed her unusual demeanor. She paused, asking with a smile, “What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing.”
Those golden pupils seemed to see through everything, fixing intently on Beacai’s eyes. It was the first time Beacai had found those eyes so terrifying.
She deliberately cast her gaze into the distance, avoiding eye contact with Isis.
But then, Isis leaned close to her ear, whispering like a demon, “Could it be… you secretly peeked at my wish?”
Her heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran down Beacai’s spine. She felt an extraordinary surge of nervousness.
‘Isis had actually guessed?’
With extreme guilt, she averted her gaze, looking to the side. Slowly, she replied, “What are you talking about, Mama? You can’t accuse me…”
“I hope you didn’t peek, because if my wish doesn’t come true, it’ll all be your fault.”