On the streets of Naica Island, traffic along the main thoroughfare leading to the royal palace was far more congested than usual, with all manner of vehicles unique to the Demon Realm crawling at a sluggish pace.
Though traffic had practically ground to a halt, the atmosphere in the streets was extraordinarily lively and boiling over, brimming everywhere with festive clamor and excitement.
Many demons halted in their tracks, their eyes glued to the screens, watching the situation in the square before the royal palace unfold across massive displays suspended between the buildings.
On screen, Princess Hyperion held a hand to her forehead, her shoulders trembling slightly, her expression obscured.
"Look, the princess can't keep a straight face anymore! She's about to burst out laughing—she can't keep up the act!"
The demons marveled at how effortlessly the princess had sent Count Sergio, the Blood Clan's divine detective, packing.
What was more, her hands were completely clean; she hadn't shown the slightest intention of harming the Blood Clan detective—the detective had simply gone mad on his own.
Yet in truth, everyone knew it had to be the princess's underhanded trick!
In the car, Lysandra, looking out the window, was equally bewildered.
Had the princess been putting on an act for her yesterday?
Just moments ago, she had been on pins and needles for the princess, fearing this ordeal would be fraught with peril, never imagining the princess would actually handle it with such composure.
Wait, no—no matter how you looked at it, the princess seemed to be choking back tears; how did that look like stifling laughter!
Lysandra knew the princess better than anyone.
After a moment's thought, Lysandra decided not to dwell on it; as long as the crisis had passed, it was fine. She could talk it over with the princess later.
As the sky barrier over Naicalis slowly dispersed, the eclipse-like spectacle drew to an end, and the sky of the Demon Realm began to welcome the dawn.
She breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against her seat.
The stars in the sky gradually faded, yielding to the rising sun, which cast a long-absent touch of warmth and brilliance through the scattered clouds onto this mysterious world.
In this moment, the deep purple completely gave way to a warm orange-gold, cloaking all of Naica Island in a soft radiance.
Between the nearby buildings, the gloom cast by the barrier brightened at once. Shafts of light replaced the shadows of the night, giving greater depth and detail to the square's architecture, sculptures, and pillars. Demonic blossoms seemed to awaken to Lanfu's singing, their stems and leaves swaying gently in the breeze with soft rustling sounds.
The cheerful melody echoing through the streets perfectly mirrored Lysandra's mood right now.
Lanqi was still stuck in traffic, but he had nearly delivered Lysandra to the palace.
The morning sun reemerged on the horizon. The bright air, coupled with the Poet of Great Love's sweet voice, breathed fresh vitality into all of Naicalis.
"Miss Lanfu's singing is truly wonderful. If only I could meet her in person," Lysandra said, looking utterly captivated as she sighed from the bottom of her heart.
Rumor had it that this demon songstress's voice could enrapture souls, even leaving demons breathless to the point of swooning. Having finally heard her voice today, Lysandra was fully convinced that she would soon become a massive star across the Demon Realm.
Yet this demonic songstress had always been shrouded in mystery.
While Miss Lanfu's formidable talent was undoubtedly crucial, there was bound to be serious capital pushing her relentless promotion behind the scenes, fueling her explosive, unstoppable rise in recent days.
"McCarthy, what's wrong?"
Lysandra noticed McCarthy's expression looked rather stiff, a vein on his forehead twitching faintly, as if the song had dredged up some etched-in-the-bone memory.
"Nothing. I just suddenly remembered my uncle."
Lanqi quickly came back to his senses, shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he replied.
Perhaps the morning sunlight was too glaring; he took a pair of sunglasses from the glove compartment and slipped them onto his face with one hand.
"..."
Something is definitely wrong, Lysandra thought to herself, seeing Lanqi's mournful state.
"Don't be sad. Wherever he is in the next world, your uncle would surely want you to be happy every day and love life," Lysandra comforted him.
"Right."
Lanqi nodded, lowering his gaze, responding as if finding solace.
Driving slowly, he brought Lysandra to a street not far from the royal palace.
"Parking isn't allowed any further ahead, so I'll have to let you off here."
At last, he pulled over to the curb and turned to speak to Lysandra.
"Thank you so much, Mr. McCarthy!" Lysandra thanked him sincerely.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow."
Lanqi raised his hand slightly, waving goodbye to her.
"Tomorrow?"
Lysandra tilted her head.
Could she really hitch another ride tomorrow?
Lanqi took a box of pastries from the food container and handed it to Lysandra.
Lysandra paused in slight surprise, not taking it right away.
She naturally recognized them as high-end pastries from McCarthy's shop.
Normally, being this sweet to a girl to win her favor would easily lead to misunderstandings, but Lysandra knew full well McCarthy didn't have feelings for her. His motives were utterly pure—so pure that his thoughts were sometimes written plainly on his face.
A whole box was certainly more than Lysandra could finish on her own, so it would have to be shared.
"Pastries for you and the princess," Lanqi confessed to her.
"You know the princess?!" Lysandra asked in astonishment.
In this moment, she finally understood why McCarthy had been so kind to her, and why he had looked at the princess so entranced earlier.
Everything seemed to click together.
Naturally, Lysandra believed McCarthy wasn't using her either, because she could feel he genuinely saw her as a friend. Even if she didn't hold such a position, Lysandra believed that if she ever ran into trouble, McCarthy would eagerly help her out—just like yesterday, when his sincerity-for-sincerity attitude had swiftly moved Miss Tia.
"Of course," Lanqi still admitted.
"I see."
In that offhand moment, Lysandra sighed with emotion.
"This coincidence is almost too bizarre," she murmured to herself.
"It's no coincidence."
Lanqi quietly countered with calm frankness, however.
Before Lysandra could ask further questions—
—she understood. The only reason McCarthy had bought that palace restaurant was that Princess Hyperion lived across the bay.
He had hoped Hyperion would attend one of his parties some night, but the princess had never come.
Then he began casually inquiring among the demons about the princess.
Only later did he learn that because the princess had failed multiple escape attempts, she was now confined by the Fall Lord, utterly unable to set foot outside the royal palace.
This revelation dawned on Lysandra with crystal clarity.
It turned out that on this July night, what he had been gazing at was not merely the stars in the sky.
In Lysandra's heart, his image suddenly took on full dimensions; he was no longer just a demon tycoon squandering wealth to curry favor with the demonic nobility.
His purpose was countless times simpler and purer than she had ever imagined.
All for the gentlest woman he longed to see.
Chapter 573