Chapter 344: Lost in the Flower Thicket

When did this smudge of white ash appear?

Chen Ling suddenly recalled the Joker’s finger brushing past his nose moments ago. Was that when he left something inside him?

He immediately plunged his hands into a puddle, scooped up some clear water, and splashed it on his face, attempting to wash away the white ash.

But no matter how hard he tried, the white ash seemed to be fused to his nose, showing no signs of fading. Moreover, as Chen Ling’s physical and mental energy rapidly depleted, the smudge grew larger…

He was increasingly resembling a “Joker.”

Chen Ling’s brows furrowed deeply. After several fruitless attempts to wash it off, he simply reached for his chin, grabbed his face, and tore it off with force!

Rip—

As a face smeared with white ash drifted down, beneath it was yet another face, also marked with white ash on its nose.

Chen Ling’s brows furrowed deeper and deeper. He frantically tore off and replaced faces, but no matter who he transformed into, the white ash remained, like an inescapable mark. Only after he ripped off another layer of skin did his fingertips finally touch a smooth surface.

He could no longer use Wuxiang.

Not only Wuxiang, but his Scarlet Trick and Court of Judgment abilities also failed to respond. As his mental energy was drained and the white ash solidified on his nose, his skills were inexplicably sealed, leaving him completely an ordinary person.

Even though he had left Clown Peak, the Joker’s power was still at work. Perhaps this white ash was a tracking mark, allowing the Joker to find him again if he ever escaped from King of Clubs?

“Damn it... Hahahaha...”

Chen Ling stumbled to his feet, supporting himself on his weakened legs, slowly making his way towards the patch of pale flowers.

He knew he was nearing his limit, but he couldn't afford to lose consciousness in the Ash Realm. Who knew if some bold calamity would approach and take a bite while he was unconscious, or if the escaped Joker would catch up to him?

But... where exactly was the Mortal Realm?

Chen Ling struggled into the flower patch, but could no longer find the path to the realm. Just as King of Clubs had said, the Mortal Realm wasn't a place one could enter simply by wishing to.

The images in his vision began to streak, like a black-and-white film skipping frames, and his consciousness slowly blurred.

A gentle breeze swept through the silent, undulating sea of flowers. A red-robed figure walked with great difficulty through it, like a lost wanderer in a dense floral labyrinth. His steps grew heavier and heavier until, with a final stumble, he collapsed into the swirling waves of blossoms.

“...Mortal Realm...” his chapped lips parted slightly, before he completely lost consciousness.

The gray world fell into a profound silence, save for the pale blossoms swaying in the breeze. A lone splash of crimson, amidst the white floral expanse, resembled a solitary martyr.

Whoosh—

As a gentle breeze swept through, loose petals among the blossoms were carried up into the sky.

A figure appeared silently beside the red-robed form, standing amidst the swaying flowers and swirling petals, like a phantom.

The figure gazed at Chen Ling, a complex expression flickering in their eyes.

A helpless sigh escaped them.

The hem of a white lab coat, dancing in the wind, gently brushed against the red garments. In the next instant, Chen Ling’s form vanished without a trace.

The gray world returned to its silent stillness.

“Oh?”

Within a remote town in the Mortal Realm, a figure in a theatrical robe slowly raised their head, looking in a specific direction.

The setting sun gradually dipped below the horizon. Amidst the overgrown wilderness, a simple, unfinished stage stood solitary. Beside it, several figures were busily working, holding wood and hammers, their brows beaded with sweat.

Dressed in performance costumes, they tapped and hammered at the stage, seemingly testing its stability. Their clothes and faces were covered in dust, and they occasionally laughed and gazed into the distance.

Towards the sunset, a lush green forest was visible, along with distant homes from which wisps of cooking smoke ascended.

Moments later,

One of them approached the robed figure and paused in silence:

“Master, could you move? You’re sitting on our planks.”

“Not quite,” the robed figure replied leisurely, remaining seated. “This master is not sitting on a plank, but on a stage.”

“...Master, it’s a plank right now. It will be a stage tomorrow.”

“This master does not step off the stage.”

The person paused, then turned to bring a small stool. “Master, please sit here.”

“Haha, my dear disciple, you are indeed the most thoughtful.”

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t step off the stage?”

“Hmph, wherever this master is, that place becomes the stage.”

The figure unhurriedly shifted from the plank to the small stool, leaning back in relaxation. In the twilight, they gently fanned themselves with a palm-leaf fan, their gaze fixed in a certain direction.

“Master, what are you looking at?”

“A person.”

“Who?”

“My sixth disciple.”

“Our junior brother??”

Hearing those words, everyone’s eyes lit up. They immediately put down their work and gathered around. “Junior brother has arrived in the Mortal Realm? When can we go pick him up?”

“Hmph, why aren’t you usually so attentive to me?” The figure’s fanning quickened slightly. “Now that you hear the sixth disciple is here, your eyes are all shining?”

“Master, what are you talking about? Haven’t we always been attentive to you?”

“Doesn’t the third brother cook meals according to your taste?”

“Aren’t your clothes all woven by the second brother?”

“And...”

“Alright, alright, I know you all want to go find him... but it’s not time yet.”

“Why??”

“What have I taught you?” The figure gestured towards the simple, nearly finished stage. “The stage is set up. You can’t just run off before the performances are done, can you?”

A wave of disappointment washed over them, but then they spoke,

“But we only have three performances in total. We’ll be done in three days, right? Then we can finally go?”

“But didn’t our second senior sister go to the Aurora Realm? Didn’t they return together?”

“There are so many towns in the Mortal Realm; which one is junior brother in?”

The robed figure slowly fanned themselves, speaking languidly, “You just focus on performing these few plays well. As for the rest, this master has his own arrangements... If I see you performing distractedly these next few days, you’ll be in for a rough time when we return.”

The disciples exchanged helpless glances, knowing they couldn’t persuade him. They ultimately returned to the unfinished stage and resumed their repairs.

As they left, only that one figure remained seated in the twilight, their shadow gradually lengthening under the setting sun.

The smile on their lips slowly faded, and their gaze, fixed on the distance, became as deep as an abyss.

“Who... are you, truly?”