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Chapter 328. The Healing Saintess's Third Cycle (1) (Part 328)

"It's Lady Rainbow Witch!"

"Wow, so cool! Is that the legendary black broom she's holding?"

"My God, I actually met the witch!"

"Hey, who do you think is stronger, her or the Sword Master?"

"I think it should be Sword Master. Sword Master once swept through Zhenbei City with a single sword."

"Don't joke around. The Rainbow Witch can wipe out the contaminated area with a single broom. She's definitely stronger than the Sword Master!"

"I support Sword Master!"

"I support the Rainbow Witch!"

……

The singers' argument backstage was relayed through the throat of the emotional truth in their minds.

Jiang Jianxin couldn't take it anymore and was about to make it shut up when the answer, Truth, became her mouth first. It said unhappily:

Can you please shut up? You're being very noisy, you know that?

The emotional truth snorted, and then the two truths started arguing in her mind.

Jiang Jianxin helplessly covered his head, racking his brains but still unable to understand why the Predictive Master insisted on giving him such a truth.

Emotional Truth's emotions fluctuate greatly, often startled and easily agitated, and are extremely noisy in his mind.

She sighed, and seeing that the motivational performance hadn't started yet, she took out her phone and browsed the forum.

Because there is no algorithm to filter content, the forum mainly features low-level news, mostly written by Baili Song, who regularly updates the war-torn and stable areas.

Jiang Jianxin opened her homepage and glanced at the videos she had recently posted.

It's mostly the same content, like someone who's switched careers to be a war correspondent.

At the same time, her number of followers is also skyrocketing, and it has now surpassed the number of followers of many official accounts of TV stations and other influential figures, which is very rare among private bloggers.

Jiang Jianxin recalled that Baili Song's ultimate goal was to create a god-like figure through public opinion—she wondered where she was on that journey.

After browsing her homepage, Jiang Jianxin also checked out the recent events at Dream Pavilion.

As a chaotic force, it rarely releases information; its most recent announcement was about its newly developed "Dream Core" series of weapons.

In the comments section of related entries, many people are discussing this matter.

Jiang Jianxin flipped through it and learned some other things.

The developers of the Dream Core series of weapons were Chu Zhibai and another engineer from the Dream Pavilion named Ximen Xue.

The former is not only a giant in the paper industry, but also a senior weapons engineer.

Jiang Jianxin had always thought Chu Zhibai was the type who was good at fighting, but today he realized that his understanding of her was too one-sided. She was an elder who was promoted from the research and development department of Dream Pavilion. Her academic qualifications were all top-notch, and she was a genuine highly educated person.

Besides being a skilled fighter, she can also handcraft cannons. She was responsible for developing all the weapons in the childhood series.

She was also one of the main developers of the Dream Core series of weapons, but recently she and Wen Yu had a very bad falling out—it started because Wen Yu used weapons to support Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals without authorization, and there were also rumors of misuse of equipment. The two of them had a huge argument at an internal meeting.

This dispute acted as a fuse, directly igniting the internal conflicts within Dream Pavilion.

Now, Dream Makers Pavilion is clearly divided into two factions. The conservatives side with Wen Yu, believing that his boldness and decisiveness are the kind of sharpness that a manufacturing giant should have. The radicals, on the other hand, feel that he is too wild and that if he continues like this, he will drag Dream Makers Pavilion into the abyss. They have turned to support Zuo Siquan to take power.

The entire Dream Pavilion is now shrouded in the shadow of factional infighting, and nobody knows where it will go next.

Jiang Jianxin unconsciously rubbed his chin with his fingertips, his brows furrowing slightly, clearly deep in thought.

If she remembered correctly, Zuo Siquan seemed to be an important pawn mentioned by the oracle.

The internal strife within the Dream Pavilion is escalating. Is this because the Foresight Family is secretly gathering strength?
This idea was merely her conjecture. Just as Jiang Jianxin was preparing to delve deeper into it, a melodious tune suddenly pierced through the noise—

Before anyone knew it, the stage lights had quietly come on, and the concert had officially begun.

In the center of the stage, the pipa player she had met in the polluted Yutan area had changed into a newly tailored pale yellow Hanfu, the hem of which rippled gently with her steps.

She wore a semi-transparent veil, her fingers plucking the strings of the zither, producing a clear and melodious sound like shattered jade falling onto a plate.

Noticing Jiang Jianxin's gaze, the girl's eyes sparkled, and she even winked playfully at her through her veil.

"Peng—"

"Peng—"

Two clusters of fireworks suddenly exploded on either side of the stage, and waterfalls of silver and gold-red light shot into the sky, blooming into a dazzling cluster of stars in the night.

Fine gold dust drifted down like a gentle snowfall, landing on the shoulders and hair of the audience in the front row.

Immediately afterwards, the stage lights suddenly went out, and with a series of crisp electronic sound effects, a new singer walked onto the stage.

Jiang Jianxin sat at the very front of the stage, looking up at the changing lights and shadows on the stage.

That was the realm the singer had created, where light seemed to flow through the air as if it were alive.

She noticed that her shoulders, which had been tense all day, had relaxed at some point, the muscles in the back of her neck were no longer stiff, and even her breathing had become long and even.

"La la la..."

"La la..."

"Woo-la-la..."

One performance after another took place on stage. Jiang Jianxin was infected by the enthusiastic atmosphere. After another song ended, she unconsciously clapped along. The subtle vibration from her palms made her feel a long-lost sense of vitality.

The emotional truth and the answer truth in the mind also stopped arguing because the emotional truth also wanted to listen to music, while the answer truth was not interested in music and simply remained silent.

Sensing Jiang Jianxin's rapture, the answer, the truth, slowly materialized in her mind:

I feel that the Rose Group's sudden dispatch of singers to the front lines is likely an attempt to push the front lines further.

【What's the meaning? 】

Jiang Jianxin was confused by his words.

[Singers are usually sent out to inspire troops on the eve of a major battle. The previous campaigns have been progressing rapidly, so the Rose Group probably wants to press their advantage and push Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals south.]

"Intuition tells me."

I wonder how much longer I can enjoy these good times.

Jiang Jianxin felt it was unnecessary for it to think about sad things about the future, so she simply replied calmly:

It's almost impossible to avoid death on the battlefield. After such a long war, how many people will return alive?

The most important thing now is to cherish the happiness of the present moment.

"Peng—Peng—"

Fireworks exploded again on both sides of the stage.

Jiang Jianxin simply sat there, watching the interplay of light and shadow, listening to the flowing melody, and feeling the primal shock brought by the music.

The soldiers around them stood or sat in twos and threes, completely immersed in this rare moment of relaxation. Some swayed gently to the rhythm, their boots making a soft rustling sound on the ground; others closed their eyes, letting the music wash away their fatigue.

To Jiang Jianxin's left, a female soldier holding a sniper rifle was humming along to a melody. The reconnaissance scope hanging around her neck swayed slightly with her head movements, reflecting shimmering light under the lamplight. To his right was a male soldier wearing a tactical helmet, a small pistol tucked into his waistband. His fingers unconsciously tapped lightly on his thigh to the beat, and his eyes gleamed with a long-lost bright light.

At this moment, all the worries about the war and the sorrowful memories of the smoke-filled battlefield vanished as if by magic in the colorful lights.

They were no longer soldiers on high alert, nor frontline warriors burdened with missions; they were simply feeling, gently enveloped by the music, as if they were in a transparent bubble isolated from the world.

No one knows what kind of battlefield and smoke await them tomorrow.

But at least at this moment, every soldier's face was filled with genuine, pure joy.

……

At dawn the day after the concert ended, the Rose Group command issued an order to proceed.

Just as my intuition predicted, the singers who sang to boost morale last night became the prelude to the advance. Except for those who were unable to fight and left the front lines for the next garrison, the rest stayed behind to become combat support.

Because the firearms blockade was all transported to the front lines against the television station, the front lines against Rose Transportation lacked firearms. Black Eye Pharmaceuticals was short of firepower and was forced to flee south with most of its forces.

Xu Huan, as the Chief of Staff, was stationed in the more challenging battlefield of the television station, while the Rose Group was facing off against the former Chief of Staff who had been demoted.

Perhaps feeling they had lost face, they began a biological warfare campaign in order to win and restore their reputation.

Under the cover of darkness before dawn, three unmanned underwater vehicles quietly entered the upstream waterway of the drinking water source upon which the Rose Transportation base depended for survival.

"Wow--"

The moment the hull opened, tons of yellow mucus carrying mutated spores poured out, spreading rapidly in the turbulent water.

These modified viral mucus can disrupt the filtration systems of conventional water purification equipment and contaminate underground aquifers through soil infiltration, ensuring that the virus can penetrate into the Rose Transport Camp.

In addition, as a safeguard, even more insidious methods followed.

As night fell over the camp again, several drones painted to resemble nocturnal birds flew low over the defenses, precisely dropping dozens of corpses soaked in plague bacteria around the soldiers' tents.

The corpses were covered with bluish-gray spots, and foul-smelling mucus seeped from their joints. The whole thing was like a petri dish containing countless microorganisms.

"Om————"

The alarm at the Rose Traffic Monitoring Tower pierced the night sky, but it was too late.

The first to show abnormalities were the logistics team responsible for fetching water. Two soldiers suddenly knelt down with their hands on their heads while drawing water in the early morning, and black lines appeared to spread across their skin at a visible speed.

Within just three hours, the camp's medical station was flooded with more than two hundred patients with high fever and convulsions, their bodies covered with purplish-black bruises.

As night fell, the screams of more infected people rose and fell—some scratched their flesh until their bones were exposed, and others had pus and blood flowing from their seven orifices.

The disease spread like ashes scattered by the wind throughout the Rose Transport Garrison at an alarming speed.

The once neatly arranged camp area was now filled with painful groans and desperate cries. The smell of disinfectant mixed with the stench of decay condensed in the air, creating a suffocating haze.

Those soldiers who were applauding the singers' performance yesterday are now half of them huddled in the quarantine zone, struggling in agony.

The remaining people, wearing makeshift protective masks, struggled to maintain the defense line under the dual threats of guns and disease.

At the same time, even worse news came: the plague had also spread to the singer, and was even more severe.

One evening, after leaving the battlefield, Jiang Jianxin heard that the little girl who played the pipa had also contracted the plague.

"Hey, you can't go in, you'll get infected!"

Jiang Jian rushed to the outside of the medical tent, but was stopped by soldiers. He calmly said:

"I won't die, and I won't get infected."

Before she finished speaking, her figure had already become a blur, gracefully passing over the blockade line.

After a few days apart, the girl who used to sing and dance on stage has become thin and withered, curled up on her sickbed like a withered autumn leaf.

The black veins, as if alive, slithered across her pale, paper-like skin, spreading from her slender neck to her wrists, and finally converging on her slightly heaving chest, as if countless venomous snakes were gnawing at her soul.

"Your Excellency the Witch."

Hearing the noise, the girl turned her head with difficulty. She tried to move her chapped lips and forced a smile that was more heartbreaking than crying.

Jiang Jianxin looked at her appearance with sadness and said:
"how so."

Her voice caught in her throat, turning into a broken sigh.

"You don't need to be sad for me."

"That's what the girl in the hospital bed said. She tried to straighten her back and sit up, trying to be as dignified as she usually was when she played, but a violent cough from her chest shattered this stubborn posture."

"It is an honor for a combat support officer to die on the battlefield."

Jiang Jianxin didn't know how he got out.

She touched the unfinished scythe in her hand, then touched the paper sword in her pocket.

As a child, the Sword Master believed that as long as he possessed a sufficiently sharp blade, he could cleave through all the suffering in the world.

But even after she grew up and acquired two sharp weapons, she still felt empty.

Just as Jiang Jianxin was feeling sad, his phone suddenly vibrated, and the message read: "Brother".

She avoided the patrolling soldiers and walked to a depression hidden by sand dunes, not caring that sand was getting into her combat boots.

When the call connected, Jiang Jianxin's voice was so hoarse it sounded unlike his own:
"Hey, brother."

"It's been so long since we last called, little sister, don't you miss your brother at all?"

Edric's familiar voice came through the receiver, with his usual teasing tone.

Jiang Jianxin stared at the black smoke rising from the top of the tent in the distance, feeling as if something was blocking his throat.

She recounted briefly—the push order after the concert, the biochemical attack by Black Eye Pharmaceuticals, water pollution and poisoning of corpses… Her voice trembled involuntarily when she spoke of the little girl who played the pipa.

"She was playing the pipa for me in Yutan just last month... and now she's covered in black lines all over her body from this damned epidemic."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. Edric's voice lowered:

"Wait, you just said... black patterns?"

"Do the symptoms start spreading from the extremities and then the neck? Will the infected person eventually cough up contaminated black blood clots?"

Jiang Jianxin was stunned; she had never mentioned those details to Edric.

"Yeah...how did you know?"

Edric gasped.
"The symptoms are so familiar, somewhat similar to the epidemic that swept through many years ago."

"You really have a bad memory."

His voice was gentle, as if he were reminiscing about some beautiful old times.

"You ended that last epidemic. You saved them."

"I'm so proud of myself," Edric said, practically puffing out his nose.

"My sister is the former Holy Maiden of the Church of Light, a Grandmaster of Healing at max level."

The wind on the sand dunes ruffled Jiang Jianxin's hair. She stared at the camp in the distance, still battling the plague, and suddenly her eyes widened.

"what?"