Tian Yuxue’s disdain was palpable.
Sang Dai’s nose stung even more.
But beyond the sourness, what she felt most in her heart—
Was joy.
Ying Heng might be innocent.
He might truly be innocent.
Sang Dai covered her eyes and suddenly burst into laughter, her shoulders shaking as joy overwhelmed her.
Tian Yuxue was momentarily affected by her emotion, her icy expression softening slightly.
But as her gaze swept past a certain direction, the faintly upturned corners of her lips returned to their neutral state.
Narrowing her eyes slightly, she remarked, “While I know you’re happy, it seems you need to deal with the trouble in front of you first.”
Trouble?
Blinded by her joy, Sang Dai’s sharp instincts had momentarily dulled. As soon as Tian Yuxue finished speaking, Sang Dai immediately sensed something was wrong.
A sword cultivator’s emotions transitioned swiftly. In an instant, Sang Dai unsheathed her sword and teleported, appearing atop a distant hill in the blink of an eye.
A chilling sword light slashed down, leveling the hilltop instantly. Both figures shifted to an open area on the ground below.
Sang Dai coldly regarded the distant figure.
The intruder wore black robes and had a tall stature. A mask concealed their face, revealing only pale lips and a sharp jawline. Sang Dai felt no familiarity with this person; her mind couldn’t match him with anyone she knew.
His lips were eerily pale, and his pupils glowed with a sinister dark red, faint flames flickering within them.
As for his aura—
It unsettled her deeply, making her feel profoundly uncomfortable, as if her very being rejected his presence.
She loathed him, as if they were naturally incompatible, as if their very existence clashed like water and fire.
And it wasn’t just loathing—
She wanted to kill him.
Desperately wanted to kill him.
The Zhiyu Sword in her hand sensed its master’s intense killing intent and radiated a dazzling light.
Sang Dai asked coldly, “Are you the one who orchestrated this to kill me?”
The man chuckled lightly. “Hmm, yes, indeed. But it seems now I can’t quite manage to kill you.”
Sang Dai couldn’t be bothered with his nonsense. Knowing he wouldn’t reveal anything useful, she charged forward with her sword, striking directly at him.
First, subdue this man. The interrogation can be left to Su Xuan later—he’s the best at that sort of thing.
The man in black continued laughing, raising his hand to condense frost and snow into an ice blade that clashed with Sang Dai’s Zhiyu Sword.
In the distance, Tian Yuxue sat idly, watching the fight as though it were entertainment. She was terrible in combat—despite her cultivation improving over the years, her lack of practical experience left her at a disadvantage.
Besides, she had struck a deal with that man.
He provided her with information, helped her locate the people she was searching for, and fulfilled the snow owl’s dying wish.
Whatever he wanted to do afterward, she wouldn’t intervene.
Whether Sang Dai lived or died had nothing to do with her.
Tian Yuxue sighed. After nearly a quarter-hour of watching them fight, she found herself bored.
Crossing her legs, she reached into her Qiankun Pouch and pulled out a fruit, preparing to take a bite. But before she could, the fruit was suddenly swept away by a strand of demonic energy.
“…”
She exploded in rage almost instantly. “Who dares steal from me—”
Turning around, she was met with a pale, sinister face. Blood-red eyes stared at her unblinkingly as the man casually tossed her fruit up and down in his hand.
The “Sin” character engraved on the side of his face was all too familiar—Tian Yuxue had carved it there herself years ago. She could recognize her own horrendous handwriting anywhere.
“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you? Why don’t you come back to the Demon Hall with me and have your fill?”
Ji Cang reached out, attempting to grab Tian Yuxue.
She stumbled back in panic. Earlier, she had used the snow owl’s innate power to hold this scoundrel at bay. Now that the snow owl had dissipated, no one could help her. She was no match for Ji Cang, a battle-hardened demon.
“I already apologized! You can wash that “Sin” mark off yourself! I didn’t mean to trick you back then. Why are you still holding a grudge?”
Ji Cang sneered coldly. “I’m a demon. How big a heart do you think I have?”
Tian Yuxue gritted her teeth, glancing at the fight in the distance where Sang Dai was locked in combat. She looked too busy to come to the rescue. Great, this time she was on her own.
“Grandaunt isn’t leaving! Get lost, you little punk!”
Summoning the cold energy of the Snow Abyss, Tian Yuxue hurled it toward Ji Cang before taking off like a rabbit.
Ji Cang slashed through the cold energy with his blade and teleported after her with a cold expression, not sparing even a glance toward Sang Dai’s side.
Sang Dai’s brow twitched slightly. She regretted her earlier concern that Ji Cang might freeze to death, which led her to place a barrier around him. Who knew this demon had no sense of gratitude? Couldn’t he see she was in the middle of a deadly fight? Not even the slightest attempt to help.
She should’ve let him freeze to death.
Blocking an attack from the man in black with her sword, Sang Dai noticed his lips curl slightly under his mask.
“Even now, Miss Sang can still be distracted?”
Tapping her toes against the ground, Sang Dai leapt into the air while he parried Zhiyu Sword’s strike, her body twisting mid-air. She delivered a kick squarely to the man’s chest.
Having sparred extensively with Su Xuan, who was much more resilient than this man, Sang Dai’s attacks carried considerable force. That kick, imbued with spiritual energy, produced a satisfying sound of bones breaking.
The man flew back dozens of meters, crashing into a distant snowy mountain and carving out a deep hole in its side.
Sang Dai prepared to press her advantage, dashing toward the cavern. But before she could, an ear-splitting screech of an eagle echoed through the air, and a wave of murderous intent descended upon her.
Looking up, she saw a massive peregrine falcon blocking out the sky, diving toward her.
“Changmang!”
Changmang instantly expanded, forming a barrier in front of Sang Dai to intercept the falcon’s attack.
“Qingwu!”
The sword nestled in the Qiankun Pouch shot out, needing no command from Sang Dai, and slashed directly toward the peregrine falcon.
Sang Dai, gripping the Zhiyu Sword, moved toward the cave entrance to capture the man in black. Just as she reached the entrance—
Boom!
A deafening explosion.
A surge of immense spiritual energy erupted, causing the entire snowy mountain to collapse upward from its base, bringing down heaps of snow and rubble.
Sang Dai quickly retreated to a safe distance.
In an instant, the hundred-zhang-tall snowy mountain crumbled completely. The black figure broke through the rubble, emerging from the ruins. A whistle sounded, and the peregrine falcon, which had been clashing with the Qingwu Sword, immediately obeyed the call and flew toward him.
Standing on the falcon’s back, he twirled the ice blade in his hand. The crystalline weapon spun so quickly in his pale hand that it left afterimages.
From beneath the mask, his eyes carried a smile—a smile that sent chills down Sang Dai’s spine.
She keenly noticed…
The rib she had broken earlier seemed to have healed.
The sword wounds she had inflicted on him were already gone.
Sang Dai’s expression remained calm, but her grip on the Zhiyu Sword tightened imperceptibly.
Even for someone with an awakened Heaven-grade spiritual root, such powerful regenerative abilities were unheard of. In just the span of a few breaths, all his injuries had healed?
Moreover…
She couldn’t discern his cultivation level at all.
And during their fight earlier, he had clearly held back, not using his full strength. It felt as though he had been toying with her, like teasing a cat with a string.
He had set a trap to kill her, yet he hadn’t delivered a killing blow. Instead, his actions seemed more like mockery.
He looked down at her from above, his gaze shifting toward the distance. His thin lips parted.
“Ah, it seems I really can’t kill you today. I suppose I’ll kill you another time. How boring.”
The cryptic remark, with its playful tone at the end, sent a wave of disgust through Sang Dai.
She noticed a fissure appearing in the void. The crack grew larger and larger, resembling a pair of gloomy eyes staring at her. On the other side of the rift…
Was a city gate.
Hanging above it was a plaque that read:
Linglong Town.
“Sang Dai, I’ll be waiting for you here.”
Sang Dai summoned Changmang and moved to capture him, but faster than Changmang came the sudden roar of thunder.
Despite the lack of clouds in the sky, a bolt of heavenly lightning appeared out of nowhere!
The lightning had clearly been summoned by someone, striking directly toward her. As Sang Dai prepared to draw her sword and form a shield to block the lightning, the figure on the peregrine falcon smirked, leaned back, and fell into the rift.
The rift snapped shut in an instant. Before Sang Dai could form a sword shield, the heavenly lightning was already upon her, appearing out of thin air with astonishing speed.
But in the very next moment—
The lightning that was meant to strike Sang Dai was blocked by another person’s spiritual shield.
The lightning paused for a brief instant as it hit the shield, then exploded outward with a thunderous roar, shattering the shield along with it.
Sang Dai felt an arm wrap around her waist as someone pulled her into their embrace.
She caught a faint scent of grass and wood, but what overwhelmed her senses was the heavy smell of blood.
Snow fell silently around them as Sang Dai’s trembling hand let go of the Zhiyu Sword, which clattered to the ground.
In a daze, she reached out to touch Su Xuan’s back, only to feel a sticky wetness.
Her fingers brushed over something protruding…
It was his exposed bones.
Sang Dai lifted her hand, now covered in blood.
The person holding her coughed heavily, each cough expelling a mouthful of blood. His black robe was in tatters, and blood soaked through the fabric.
Even in their previous sparring matches, Sang Dai had never injured Su Xuan like this. Now, she could feel that nearly all his bones were broken, as though crushed by some immense force. He could barely stand, relying entirely on her strength to support him.
“Su… Su Xuan…”
Her voice was trembling with fear, even catching in her throat with a sob.
Su Xuan tried to speak, but the moment he opened his mouth, a torrent of blood spilled out, staining Sang Dai’s cloak.
He didn’t even have the strength to lift his hand to wipe the blood away.
The little fox pressed his ear close to hers, as if to confirm that she was uninjured. Satisfied, he nuzzled her cheek gently in an attempt to calm her.
Once he was certain she was unharmed, his last bit of strength faded.
Sang Dai felt his body go limp and heavy, collapsing against her.
She hurriedly supported him, kneeling on the snowy ground as Su Xuan lay on his side in her lap.
For the first time, she saw the extent of his injuries.
His broken bones had pierced through his skin, stark white fragments protruding amidst pools of blood. Her hands were slick with it, and the sight was horrifying.
In a panicked frenzy, Sang Dai abandoned all thoughts of the man in black or the vanished Tian Yuxue.
Her voice was shaky, desperate: “Su Xuan, Su Xuan, I’ll help you. I’ll help you. You won’t die, you won’t die.”
Her words were incoherent, her actions frantic. She pressed on his acupoints to stabilize his spirit and dumped every pill from her Qiankun Pouch onto the ground. Without hesitation, she tried to force them into his mouth.
But he was unconscious and couldn’t swallow. Growing more desperate, Sang Dai shakily placed the pills in her own mouth, crushed them with her teeth, then pried open his clenched jaw and used her tongue to feed him the medicine, pushing it down with her spiritual energy.
She tasted Su Xuan’s blood.
For the first time in her life, Sang Dai realized just how terrifying blood could be.
One pill after another, she continued to feed him, tears blurring her vision.
Beside her, Changmang whimpered pitifully, while the Zhiyu Sword held up a shield to block the falling snowflakes.
Qingwu was nowhere to be seen.
Sang Dai suddenly broke into sobs, tears falling like broken strings of pearls.
With her master missing, all she had left was Su Xuan—the only person still by her side.
She didn’t even dare to hold him tightly. Every time she raised her hand, she would brush against his broken bones.