Everything in the tower city seemed to slow to a crawl.
Beneath Li Zhaoye, the hard blue bricks shattered inch by inch, spiderweb-like cracks creeping up the walls on either side.
He shook his head violently, bracing himself with one hand against the rubble as he struggled to rise.
His face was ghostly pale, the deep, narrow wounds on his body widening, making him look like a porcelain figurine already shattered and falling apart.
Before he could steady himself, the giant Qing Xu brought his palm crashing down.
The force of the blow sent Li Zhaoye’s robes and hair whipping back, and with him at the center, debris and stones were flung into the air, suspended for a brief moment before pelting the walls on either side.
In Li Zhaoye’s constricted pupils, a massive, bloodstained hand loomed closer and closer.
Luo Luo darted through the falling debris, reaching Child A Miao’s side.
She grabbed Miao’s arm and suddenly turned back toward the battlefield.
"Li Zhaoye!" Xu Junzhu cried out in alarm.
In her panic, she didn’t call him "senior brother," but shouted his full name instead.
While she had been focused on protecting the two of them, Li Zhaoye had silently opened his eyes—and now, one hand was wrapped around Luo Luo’s throat.
His expression was eerie, almost gleeful, as he tilted his head and leaned in, watching the pulse in her neck flutter weakly beneath his fingers.
With a slight squeeze, her lips began to turn purple.
He drew even closer.
His eyes, now completely black, stared coldly and dangerously at her lips, his fingers tightening further with each passing second.
Then, softly, he let out a whisper: "Pfft."
Xu Junzhu’s heart stopped. A chill ran down her spine.
Horror dawned on her—he was waiting for Luo Luo’s lips to swell to their limit before bursting like an overripe fruit.
"Li—"
No. This wasn’t Li Zhaoye.
It was the Godlord.
With Li Zhaoye’s soul absent, the Godlord had reclaimed control of his body.
Black miasma, violent and sinister, seeped from behind Him like demonic claws, writhing and screeching as they reached for Luo Luo’s eyes, nose, and lips.
His head tilted slightly, the crimson marks on his face so dark they seemed to drip blood.
Infiltrate… possess her… tear her apart…
Xu Junzhu’s heart pounded in desperation. "Luo Luo!"
"Clang! Clang, clang, clang!"
A series of sharp metallic rings echoed through the air.
Golden light flared from the surrounding seal lines, binding the demonic mist.
At the other end of the golden threads hung a spider, dangling miserably beneath a railing, holding back the sinister black energy.
The black mist, thwarted, seethed with fury.
Like a soul leaving its body, it suddenly condensed into a translucent, distorted face, silently roaring at Luo Luo, mere inches away.
Though restrained, the Godlord could still drag Luo Luo closer.
He yanked her toward Him by the neck, his fingers creaking from the force.
Her lips parted helplessly.
The black mist trembled with excitement, surging toward her mouth.
Xu Junzhu’s spine turned to ice. She formed a hand seal and thrust her sword forward!
"Clang!"
Her blade, half-green, half-white, blocked the mist’s path.
A shriek, sharp enough to pierce the soul, burst forth, instantly making blood trickle from Xu Junzhu’s ears.
The black mist coiled around the sword like a serpent, and an icy, bone-deep pain shot through her arm. Her grip faltered, nearly dropping the weapon.
Gritting her teeth, Xu Junzhu resisted the crushing weight, her hands trembling as she formed another seal.
Frost rapidly coated the blade, the black mist hissing like scalding ink on snow, the white ice corroding and melting away.
Cold and hot sweat poured down her face.
'This is bad…'
In an instant, she changed her stance, channeling every last drop of spiritual energy from her dantian and meridians into the sword.
The green-white blade hummed violently—her energy was spent in an instant.
She couldn’t stop this monstrous being.
Seal after seal.
Her body, pushed beyond its limits, began to bleed from all seven orifices.
With a flick of her fingers, she infused the sword with the last of her soul’s blood essence. The frost turned crimson, but even then, the demonic mist pressed forward.
'Senior brother! Junior sister! Hurry back!'
For some reason, Qing Xu’s killing strike hesitated for the briefest moment.
Li Zhaoye, still propped against the rubble, pushed off with all his strength, narrowly rolling out of the way.
Even now, he refused to let himself look undignified.
Two quick flips backward, and he landed gracefully on one knee amidst the raging winds.
Qing Xu’s strike had missed. His lips curled slowly.
"I told you," his voice reverberated through the gate tower, "if you want to buy her a chance to live, then die. Since you refuse to die quietly…"
His smile, once sweet as spring blossoms, now dripped with venom.
"Then she will die instead."
Li Zhaoye’s expression darkened.
On the other side, Luo Luo, who had just taken hold of Miao’s arm, suddenly went limp. Her face paled, a muffled groan of pain escaping her lips.
Her hands flew to her throat and chest, her mouth opening wide—gasping, choking, as if an invisible force had seized her breath.
Li Zhaoye understood immediately. "The Godlord."
"Correct. With your soul gone, what do you think the Godlord will do to her?" Qing Xu smiled. "Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be… entertaining."
Li Zhaoye’s gaze turned to ice.
Qing Xu’s grin widened. "Last time I killed you, you refused to beg with words—but your eyes pleaded with me. Begged me not to hurt her."
Luo Luo lifted her trembling gaze.
"And now?" Qing Xu taunted Li Zhaoye. "Why not surrender? The faster you die, the better her chances of survival, no?"
Before the words had fully left his mouth, he struck.
"You people—always so eager to die for others!" His palm descended with a furious roar. "You’re no different from Lingxue! Playing the martyr, thinking yourselves noble—when in truth, you’re nothing but fools!"
This time, he left no room for escape.
Luo Luo, fighting against the suffocating pain, suddenly raised her head.
At the brink of life and death, her voice, raw and desperate, tore through the air.
"Li—"
In the half-finished pavilion, Xu Junzhu’s sword trembled violently in her grip.
Her vision swam with red, her ears submerged in a muffled, ringing haze.
Faintly, she thought she heard Qing Xu’s voice, dripping with scorn.
'Dying for others… what fools… absolute fools!'
Xu Junzhu swallowed a mouthful of blood.
Her meridians were on the verge of collapse.
A newly ascended Nascent Soul cultivator like her, daring to stand against the Godlord’s power—perhaps she really was a fool.
But…
When a comrade was in danger, she could not stand by.
If the path was righteous, even the impossible was worth attempting.
Xu Junzhu still remembered, back when she was young, how she had pestered her master endlessly, asking how she could become someone as radiant and revered as her.
Her master, likely exasperated, had made her recite the sect’s rules over and over.
And before she knew it, people began to say she and the sect leader were cut from the same cloth.
"A rulebook given life," they called her.
But Xu Junzhu knew the truth—she was nothing like her master.
Her master was fearless, her spirit unshakable as ice and snow.
Xu Junzhu, on the other hand, was always plagued by doubt—by fear, by hesitation.
There is no such thing as surpassing one’s master—only clumsy imitation.
Qing Xu’s mocking sneer still seemed to linger in the air.
"Lingxue… utterly foolish!"
Utterly foolish… utterly foolish…
She had already reached the Soul-Suppressing Banner. She knew the Sealing Divine Hall was riddled with flaws. She should have fought her way out to settle the score with Qing Xu.
Yet she chose to die there, using her life to shield the world one last time.
Master, I fall far short of you.
In the depths of her dantian, the frostfire Lingxue had passed down flickered faintly.
Xu Junzhu felt unworthy.
"Hum…"
A cool breath brushed past her spiritual platform.
Fragmented memories suddenly surfaced in Xu Junzhu’s mind—
Lingxue throwing things in anger after Qing Xu provoked her. Lingxue sulking after being cornered by Luo Luo. Lingxue deliberately taking in Gu Meng, only to end up infuriated…
Xu Junzhu froze.
A distant voice seemed to echo in her ears—
I was never some radiant, flawless figure.
You need only give your all to fulfill what must be done.
Her spirit trembled.
These were words her master had once spoken to her.
Back then, she had thought her master was merely being modest. Only now did understanding strike like lightning.
"Master…" Xu Junzhu awoke as if from a dream. "This disciple was blinded!"
In that moment of enlightenment, the frostfire in her dantian erupted.
No resistance, no rejection.
The spiritual power of master and disciple merged seamlessly. In an instant, Xu Junzhu’s aura surged, her sword humming as frostfire roared to life!
"Screech!"
The demonic claw formed of yin-laden black energy recoiled violently, as if scorched by flames.
Xu Junzhu forced the dark mist back with a single slash, then swiftly formed a seal to unleash a barrier of glacial light, blocking every path the darkness could take to strike Luo Luo.
Frost and shadow collided in a deafening explosion!
Black and white tangled, clashed, twisted.
With her left hand maintaining the seal against the dark mist, Xu Junzhu flipped her sword with her right—shing!—and leveled it at Li Zhaoye’s wrist.
His fingers were already buried deep in Luo Luo’s throat, impossible to pry loose.
To save Luo Luo, she would have to sever his hand.
"Senior Brother! I’ll count to three—if you don’t let go, I’ll have no choice but to act!"
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One!"
Beneath the city gates. The ruins.
At the brink of life and death, Luo Luo suddenly rasped out a name: "Li Er Miao!"
Her right hand still clutched the arm of Child A Miao.
As she shouted, she twisted it violently.
A Miao cried out in pain: "Ow!"
The child’s wrist bent unnaturally, and the towering Qing Xu’s movements faltered slightly once more.
He turned—slowly, so slowly.
Luo Luo forced herself upright, flicking her sleeve to reveal a sharpened branch gleaming coldly in her grip. She pressed its tip against the child’s throat.
"What?" Qing Xu smirked. "Using an innocent life to threaten me into stopping? Little pheasant, are you overestimating my morals? Do you really think he could be my weakness?"
Luo Luo repeated hoarsely: "Li. Er. Miao. I’m calling you."
Their eyes locked.
Qing Xu’s expression darkened, the corner of his eye twitching imperceptibly.
"Do it!" Li Zhaoye urged, bracing himself against his knee.
Luo Luo nodded but kept her gaze fixed on Qing Xu.
Her vision was blurring at the edges, her throat raw from speaking, but she had to say this.
"Master," she said. "You’re sick. Very sick."
Qing Xu stared, lips unmoving.
Luo Luo continued, "You didn’t just imagine a ruthless version of yourself—you also imagined another, innocent one."
Qing Xu finally spoke, voice light: "...How did you figure it out?"
Luo Luo pressed her lips together.
Truthfully, it was Li Zhaoye who had realized it.
He had whittled this branch and handed it to her, and the only "person" she could reach now was A Miao.
When he’d given her that look—you know what to do—she’d understood immediately. They had always been in sync.
As for how Li Zhaoye had guessed… Luo Luo wasn’t entirely sure.
Perhaps it was because the thin man had referred to A Miao’s father as "Old Li," and the child’s parents had mentioned an elder son they once had.
Qing Xu was also called "Li Second Brother."
Li Second Brother. Li Er Miao. A Miao.
Qing Xu had claimed he would sell A Miao to a brothel to live in luxury. Before losing his eyes, he had lived lavishly in such a place, cultivating a face like springtime blossoms.
That was probably how Li Zhaoye pieced it together… probably.
Luo Luo confirmed it when she twice yanked A Miao’s arm as the giant Qing Xu struck.
Each time, the giant’s movements had hesitated.
"Master, you’re too arrogant," Luo Luo whispered. "You even dared to hand ‘yourself’ to me. If I’d truly taken A Miao out of this ‘hell’ as you wanted, you’d have laughed yourself to sleep under the covers, wouldn’t you?"
Qing Xu grinned. "Ah, you got me!"
"Was it fun," Luo Luo croaked, "playing with people like this?"
Qing Xu’s smile widened. "Immensely."
Luo Luo nodded, hatred thickening her voice. "Just like how you played with us back then."
Qing Xu shrugged slightly.
Li Zhaoye tried multiple times to reach Luo Luo, only to be effortlessly forced back.
"Luo Luo, do it!" Li Zhaoye’s face was grim.
Luo Luo drew a ragged breath. "One last thing. Master… in all these years, was there ever a moment you truly cared for us?"
The giant’s eyes flickered with unmistakable surprise.
As if startled by the absurdity of hearing a line straight out of a melodramatic script.
"Oh," Qing Xu chuckled. "Of course. You’ve seen it yourself—aside from me, ‘those two’ aren’t so bad."
Luo Luo exhaled softly.
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and when they opened again, her gaze was unfocused.
Lack of air made her chest heave violently. Her fingers spasmed, trying to tighten around the branch at A Miao’s throat—but her grip failed. A fingernail caught the wood with a faint click, and the branch slipped from her hand, falling.
"...Hah."
Qing Xu had been watching it all along.
The moment it dropped, he struck—
His massive form loomed over Luo Luo like a collapsing mountain: "Read too many scripts, didn’t you? Never learned that villains die from monologuing?"
His eyes gleamed with something almost like relief—relief that it was Li Zhaoye stalling him and Luo Luo handling A Miao. Had it been that ruthless fox Li Zhaoye, A Miao would already be a corpse on the ground.
Luo Luo was still too naive. The moment she realized A Miao was him, she should have struck to kill instead of wasting time on words. Now, as they say, complications arose.
Qing Xu smirked inwardly.
His hand shot out to snatch A Miao away, to swat Luo Luo aside—
A gust of wind sent the falling branch arcing through the air…
Thud.
It landed steadily in Luo Luo’s left palm, which hung loosely at her side.
In the enormous pupils of the giant Qing Xu, Luo Luo’s tiny figure was reflected. She moved like the wind, ruthless as a wolf, flipping her hand upward and stabbing with all her might!
Thud!
The giant was caught off guard—so was the child, A Miao.
The sharp, spear-like branch pierced through the throat and skewered diagonally into the brain.
Guh… guh…
Luo Luo released her grip, and the child toppled backward with a heavy thud.
The giant’s movements froze mid-air.
Luo Luo raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “Master, still having fun?”
—Was it fun to toy with others?
—Oh, it was.
Now, it was his turn to be played.
Both her “chattiness” and her “slip-up” had been deliberate.
The giant’s mouth slowly parted like crumbling clay, and a waterfall of murky blood cascaded down—every injury inflicted on the child A Miao was mirrored perfectly on the giant’s body.
“Master,” Luo Luo rasped, “did you conjure up A Miao as a version of yourself because you felt guilty for killing your parents?”
The giant’s pupils trembled.
“A Miao’s parents were kind, steadfast people. They had weapons but never robbed or harmed others. People like that… would never resort to trading children to survive.” Luo Luo’s voice grew quieter. “You saw others do it and assumed your parents would too, so you struck first.”
She smiled faintly. “Did their wide, unseeing eyes and your own bloodstained hands haunt you? You had to convince yourself they wronged you first—so you split yourself into another victim, ‘A Miao,’ and let a cold, merciless version of yourself carry out ‘justice.’”
The giant’s mouth gaped wider, vomiting a torrent of blood.
“That way, you could eat them with a clear conscience and survive.” Luo Luo’s eyes brimmed with sorrow. “Master… you’re such a hypocrite.”
Qing Xu cared nothing for anger, scorn, or hatred.
But the grief in her gaze stabbed straight through him.
Hah… A sound like a broken bellows escaped his throat. “Next time… I won’t hold back.”
The giant collapsed with a thunderous crash, and the hellscape around them dissolved into nothingness.
One!
Xu Junzhu’s icy voice exploded beside Li Zhaoye’s ear.
A cold blade slashed toward him, and Li Zhaoye instinctively raised his sword to block.
Clang!
The two blades locked, and Changtian trembled violently in excitement.
Xu Junzhu’s eyes lit up. “You’re back!”
Li Zhaoye frowned, flexing his fingers—only to hear a muffled groan.
His pupils constricted as he whipped his head toward the sound.
Luo Luo lay there, eyes half-lidded, lips parted weakly as she gasped for air.
His damned left hand was wrapped around her throat, squeezing her already-slender neck even thinner.
Li Zhaoye sucked in a sharp breath.
He didn’t dare release her all at once—forcing air back into her lungs too suddenly could damage her windpipe.
Instead, he leaned down and gathered her into his arms.
Luo Luo slumped against him, forcing her eyes open to meet his gaze. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his expression icy.
The hand at her throat loosened gradually, millimeter by millimeter.
She knew it wasn’t him who had attacked her, but the sight of him restraining himself, refusing to let go all at once—controlling her very breath—was terrifyingly cold, dangerously gentle.
Her heart pounded wildly from the thrill and fear.
“Breathe,” he commanded lowly.
“Mm…”
Guided by him, she slowly regained her rhythm.
Cool, spirit-infused air filled her lungs, and she didn’t cough—her throat didn’t even hurt much.
His hand still hadn’t fully released her.
Leaning into his grip, she let him support her weight entirely.
His Adam’s apple bobbed several times before he gritted out, “One day, I’ll chop this hand off and let you kick it around.”
Luo Luo: “……”
She nuzzled lightly against him.
His fingers still cradled her neck, but now they traced the bruises left behind, inspecting the damage.
“It doesn’t hurt,” Luo Luo reassured him hastily. “You didn’t choke me hard.”
Then, in a muddled attempt to stop him from self-amputating, she blurted, “I like it no matter what you do.”
Li Zhaoye: “……”
Did she even realize what kind of dangerous nonsense she was spouting?
His gaze swept across the room—the loft looked like a hurricane had torn through it. The doors hung open, and the half-built window frames lay scattered across the floor.
Xu Junzhu slowly withdrew her energy, drenched in sweat as if she’d been pulled from water.
Li Zhaoye dipped his chin. “Thank you.”
Xu Junzhu exhaled. “No need. I broke through a mental barrier of my own.” She frowned. “What exactly happened to you two?”
Knowing Li Zhaoye wouldn’t bother explaining, Luo Luo wriggled out of his arms and quickly summarized the events in a breathy whisper—gentle enough not to strain her throat.
Xu Junzhu listened intently, her frown deepening.
While she pondered, Luo Luo turned back to Li Zhaoye.
She’d been dying to ask: “How did you know A Miao was him?”
Li Zhaoye was uncharacteristically silent for a beat.
“When I took you to that valley before, it was because the old man mentioned it drunk.” His tone was light, almost careless. “He kept a few worthless trinkets carved with sprouts. A man like him… if he keeps burdens close, there’s always a reason.”
Luo Luo fell quiet.
To the giant Qing Xu, “A Miao” was a burden.
To Qing Xu the True Monarch, those old trinkets—and even Li Zhaoye himself—were burdens too.
If he keeps burdens close, there’s always a reason.
She stole a glance at Li Zhaoye. His eyes were half-lidded, gazing lazily at some distant point beyond the window.
His face betrayed no sorrow.
But how could he not be hurting?
Once, just because the old man had drunkenly mentioned that forsaken valley as his homeland, Li Zhaoye had taken her there and slaughtered every demon in Dongyu Province.
He’d never even told her the real reason.
He probably thought it sounded pathetic.
Luo Luo pressed her lips together and, feigning weakness, rested her head against him.
Sharing her warmth, giving him what little comfort she could.
“I’ve got it,” Xu Junzhu murmured suddenly, looking between the two of them. “The Void Nightmare.”
“Hm?”
Xu Junzhu explained, “Master once mentioned that the former sect leader, Daoist Qin Wuyi, once slew an ancient demon called the Void Nightmare. This fiend specialized in crafting nightmare realms, luring souls inside to devour and strengthen itself.”
Luo Luo and Li Zhaoye exchanged glances.
Chen Xuanyi had inherited Qin Wuyi’s legacy, and Qing Xu had manipulated Chen Xuanyi effortlessly.
Luo Luo: “He obtained the Void Nightmare—or its powers?”
Li Zhaoye: “Close enough.”
Luo Luo mused, “Chen Xuanyi’s so dense… could his soul have been gnawed on?”
Li Zhaoye: “Tch.”
Not entirely impossible.
Just as the three of them were sinking into horrified contemplation, someone came rushing in, shouting at the top of their lungs:
“Senior Sister! It’s chaos—they’re fighting!”
Xu Junzhu & Luo Luo & Li Zhaoye: “……”
After an exhausting night, was there no peace to be had?
Xu Junzhu walked out with a sullen face, resigned to his fate. "Alright, who's come knocking at our door this time?"
"It's not that, not that," Bai Yi said, frantic. "The main hall is finished, but the plaque space is still empty! Uncle Shuo Yun proposed 'Flame Hall,' Senior Uncle Fuling suggested 'Old Lord Hall,' and Senior Uncle Wujiu came up with 'Azure Feather Hall'... No one’s backing down, and they’re all fighting to have theirs hung on the front!"
Xu Junzhu, Luo Luo, and Li Zhaoye: "..."
The three of them, still recovering from the night’s ordeal, had absolutely no desire to speak.
Bai Yi gaped at them as they turned to leave. "Wait—Senior Sister, Senior Brother, Junior Sister, say something! This is a huge deal! Aren’t you going to step in? Do something?!"
Xu Junzhu: "Heh heh heh."
Luo Luo: "Heh."
Li Zhaoye: "H̶e̶h̶."
