The green-robed figure vanished in the blink of an eye amidst the horde of demonic fiends. Wu Zhaoyan stood atop the towering city walls, his gaze piercing through the dark miasma of demonic energy to catch a glimpse of a dazzling azure light.
Beside him, another figure leaped down without hesitation, sword intent radiating lethal resolve.
A green and a golden sword light weaved through the demonic horde, slaughtering countless fiends in an instant.
Wu Zhaoyan’s throat tightened, as if he were seeing it again—the memory of many years ago, when an eighteen-year-old girl had descended the mountain alone for the first time to purge evil. Back then, she had been just like this.
She had thrown herself into the abyss, plunging into a swarm of bloodthirsty demons, cutting through them single-handedly. When she returned, her green robes had been dyed crimson, her appearance battered—yet her eyes remained as bright as ever, sharp and focused when she looked at others.
A commotion sounded behind him. He turned to see a family emerging from a house near the city walls—a man carrying a child, a woman following close behind, and an elderly man with a drum in hand, all rushing toward the southern district.
The child, too young to understand the terror of demonic fiends, only knew that help had arrived.
Perched on his father’s shoulder, the little one waved at Wu Zhaoyan.
The tension in Wu Zhaoyan’s lips eased slightly, his cold expression softening.
"Wu Zhaoyan, get down here! How dare you leave me to do all the work alone!"
Wu Zhaoyan followed the voice and saw Yu Zhiling, having just cleared a section of the fiend swarm, looking up at him with hands cupped around her mouth, her tone indignant—like a bristling kitten.
He chuckled, then flipped down from the wall, landing amidst the demonic horde.
At the same time, Mo Zhu fought his way to Yu Zhiling’s side, glancing at her before cutting down the fiends approaching from the southwest.
"Master, you shouldn’t stay here long. The demonic energy is too thick—it’ll aggravate your inner demons."
Yu Zhiling’s expression remained calm. "I’m aware of my own demons."
"It’s too dark here. You’ll be afraid."
"My Fourth Senior Sister didn’t give me that mermaid pearl for nothing."
Yu Zhiling flashed a hundred yards away, leaving a trail of fallen fiends in her wake. Her sword danced with precision, each movement sharp and decisive.
Mo Zhu followed closely, their backs pressed together.
A brilliant light emanated from her waist—the mermaid pearl, glowing brighter the darker the surroundings, banishing her fear.
Mo Zhu’s voice was grave. "Master, we can’t kill them all. We need an array."
"What kind of array do you suggest?"
Recognizing the test in her question, he answered as they fought, "From the River of No Return to here is about seventy li. This stretch is uninhabited, and there’s only one main road. We can set up an array at the four cardinal directions, enclosing the entire path from the river to the city."
"The array must be powerful enough to annihilate every fiend within its bounds. In my opinion, only the Fourfold Heavenly Slaughter Array fits—its range is vast, its lethality unmatched, and it targets only demonic entities, leaving others unharmed."
Yu Zhiling swiftly cleared another wave of fiends, pausing to pat his head. "Clever boy. Your master doesn’t even need to teach you—you’re the most considerate disciple I could ask for."
Mo Zhu lowered his head, nuzzling her cheek with affectionate reliance.
"I’ll always be like this—always making things easy for you, Master."
He was flirting shamelessly again.
Yu Zhiling rolled her eyes and teleported away, diving back into the fray where the fiends were thickest.
"I know what you’re thinking," Wu Zhaoyan said without turning as someone approached. "The Fourfold Heavenly Slaughter Array is the best option. The four of us are strong enough, but have you considered the backlash when the array activates? The pressure could level this city. Can we withstand it?"
Yu Zhiling’s lips pressed into a thin line as she mechanically cut down fiends, her grip tightening on her sword. "We can."
"Little Yu, the risk is too great."
"It’s the only way. Our stamina is limited. As you and Mo Zhu said, I can’t endure prolonged exposure to demonic energy. Do you think the three of you can slaughter tens of thousands of fiends? Do you know how many more lurk beneath the River of No Return?"
Wu Zhaoyan’s voice darkened. "If we hold out until tomorrow, the Blade Sect will send reinforcements."
Yu Zhiling countered, "Can you last that long?"
Wu Zhaoyan’s lips thinned. He didn’t answer.
"You can’t. You’ve been fighting You Zhou for three days. Yun Zhi’s injuries are worse than yours. My disciple just survived a tribulation. And I can’t risk my inner demons by staying here too long. This was You Zhou’s plan from the start."
The truth was clear—all four of them were wounded in some way, and Yu Zhiling, though the strongest, was the most vulnerable to demonic energy. Abandoning the city might have been the wiser choice.
Yu Zhiling cleared the fiends before him, then grabbed his shoulder and hauled him up, leaping back onto the city walls.
"Mo Zhu! Yun Zhi’s back—get up here!"
A golden light flashed through the fiend swarm as Mo Zhu vaulted onto the wall, landing beside Yu Zhiling.
In the distance, Yun Zhi had already opened the southern gate, evacuating the civilians.
"The people are being led out. The city should be empty within an hour. Are we really using the Fourfold Heavenly Slaughter Array?"
Of course Yun Zhi had guessed their plan.
Though the question was directed at all three, their gazes settled on Yu Zhiling—the only one who could withstand the array’s backlash.
Yu Zhiling reinforced the city’s barrier and nodded. "Yes. It’s our only chance. The three of you are injured, and my inner demons are a liability. We have no other choice."
Yun Zhi hesitated. "Little Yu, the array’s backlash is equivalent to the self-destruction of a Great Perfection realm cultivator. We—"
Yu Zhiling cut him off. "I can endure it."
She knew what he was about to say and continued firmly, "I’ll bear the residual pressure. The three of you are wounded. I’m the only one unharmed."
She took a deep breath, looking down at the endless sea of fiends below. A faint smile even touched her lips.
"To be honest, I think I’ve seen more fiends than this before. Far more."
With that, she leaped back into the swarm, shouting, "Mo Zhu! Follow me to the River of No Return!"
Mo Zhu pursued without hesitation. She moved swiftly, but his demonic physique allowed him to keep pace. Of the four, their injuries were the lightest—they were the best suited to charge toward the river.
Wu Zhaoyan and Yun Zhi exchanged a glance, sighing in unison before splitting off in opposite directions.
Yu Zhiling’s barrier on the city walls would hold for now, trapping the fiends between the river and the city. Their task was to encircle the horde from all sides and annihilate them completely.
Yu Zhiling worried that Mo Zhu might not keep up, so she turned back and grasped his hand. With the Zhuling Sword clearing the path ahead, her speed—now enhanced after transcending the tribulation—had reached a level almost comparable to Mo Zhu’s Tengserpent form. After all, the Tengserpent was a divine beast capable of soaring through clouds and mist.
Her hair, lifted by the wind, brushed against Mo Zhu’s face, carrying with it the scent unique to her—the fragrance of orange blossoms.
He tightened his grip, interlacing their fingers.
Yu Zhiling stiffened slightly, a reaction Mo Zhu noticed. Instead of loosening his hold, he clasped her hand even tighter, as if determined to hold on for a lifetime.
She didn’t pull away, nor did she look back. Perhaps now wasn’t the time to dwell on such matters—or perhaps, she allowed him this gesture.
Mo Zhu smiled faintly, the exhaustion from surviving the tribulation dissipating as they weaved through the horde of demonic wraiths. The creatures lunged at them, only to be repelled by the protective aura surrounding the pair.
As they neared the River of Unforgetting, the mermaid pearl at Yu Zhiling’s waist cast a soft glow around them. At this proximity, Mo Zhu could see each of her lashes, delicate and beautiful. Even in her disheveled state, she was breathtaking.
She sensed his gaze and glanced sideways at him.
Mo Zhu answered with a firm squeeze of her hand, his eyes unwavering, silently conveying his affection.
Yu Zhiling averted her gaze, her steps steady, but she returned the pressure of his fingers.
At the riverbank, she gave him a look, and Mo Zhu understood. They parted ways, moving in opposite directions.
Fortunately, there was only one path from the River of Unforgetting to the city’s outskirts, and the demonic wraiths couldn’t stray elsewhere. The four of them only needed to set up formation anchors at four key points. Yu Zhiling’s only concern was whether Wu Zhaoyan would manage his part.
Wu Zhaoyan had already reached his designated spot. He pulled out a jade token and asked, "Yun Zhi, how do I set up the formation?"
A brief silence followed before Yun Zhi sighed. "You really should study formations and talismans when we get back. You’re an Immortal Venerable—you can’t just rely on repairing the Four Killings Realm. Some things are worth learning."
Wu Zhaoyan, fending off wraiths while multitasking, grumbled, "Just tell me now. I’ll set it up immediately."
Yun Zhi explained, "Connect the positions of the Trigram of Stillness and the Trigram of Earth. Once linked, use the Formation Establishment Chant to anchor the node and reinforce it with your spiritual energy."
Wu Zhaoyan frowned as he followed the instructions. "This is so tedious. The chant is way too long."
"Do you even know it by heart?"
"...I do." Wu Zhaoyan muttered defensively, "Don’t act like I’m completely useless. I had to copy this stuff endlessly as a kid."
He sounded almost proud. Yun Zhi listened silently as Wu Zhaoyan recited the chant, having already completed his own anchor.
Meanwhile, more wraiths surged from the River of Unforgetting, piling against the city’s barrier like a grotesque mountain.
Wu Zhaoyan soon returned, his breath catching at the sight. No matter how many battles he’d witnessed, the sheer scale of this horror sent a primal chill down his spine.
"How long do you think we’d last if we jumped down now?"
"You’re welcome to test it."
Wu Zhaoyan rolled his eyes. "You’re such a block of wood. Talking to you is exhausting."
Yun Zhi, unbothered as ever, clasped his hands behind his back and gazed at the endless sea of wraiths. Wu Zhaoyan crossed his arms, slouching lazily.
"About Yu Zhiling’s inner demon… any idea what it is?"
Yun Zhi shook his head. "Not certain. But I noticed she seems afraid of the dark."
Wu Zhaoyan didn’t ask how he knew. Yun Zhi was observant, catching details others missed. They’d all seen the sweat on Yu Zhiling’s brow when she first leaped into the wraith horde.
"So her inner demon is darkness?"
"Not just that. There must be more. Something terrible happened to her in the Four Killings—no, the Abyss. The Abyss of Demons. That’s why she…"
Wu Zhaoyan recalled You Zhou’s words to Mo Zhu.
Yu Zhiling had died once—by her own hand.
A heavy weight settled in his chest. The sight of the writhing wraiths only deepened his frustration. He tilted his head skyward, but the world remained shrouded in oppressive darkness.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the ceaseless shrieks of the wraiths.
They waited until the barrier trembled under the strain. Just as Wu Zhaoyan knelt to reinforce it, the horde split apart violently.
A streak of green and black cut through the chaos—Yu Zhiling and Mo Zhu leaped onto the wall.
Both were battered, having fought their way to the river, set the anchors, and battled back. Their exhaustion was evident.
Wu Zhaoyan’s gaze lingered on their intertwined hands—something even they might not have realized.
His throat tightened. Before Yu Zhiling could notice, he looked away and vaulted down into the city.
"Activate the formation, Yu Zhiling."
She released Mo Zhu’s hand, wiping sweat from her brow. "The three of you, retreat into the city. I’ll handle the activation."
Yun Zhi nodded without hesitation. "Be careful."
He left the wall, leaving only Yu Zhiling and Mo Zhu.
She exhaled slowly, nerves coiling in her stomach. She wasn’t entirely sure she could withstand the backlash.
Noticing Mo Zhu hadn’t moved, she frowned. "Why are you still here? Go."
Mo Zhu insisted, "Let me stay. We’ll bear it together."
"No. You’re injured. You won’t survive it."
"Master, I can—"
"You can’t. That’s an order."
Her tone brooked no argument.
Mo Zhu finally relented, turning away.
Step by step, he walked further from her. Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan stood at a safe distance—far enough to avoid the formation’s deadly backlash.
Mo Zhu moved slowly, barely a dozen steps away when a resonant hum erupted from the wall.
Four pillars of light shot into the sky, illuminating seventy miles in all directions, turning night into day.
The wraiths’ screams reached a fever pitch—agonized, desperate, the sound enough to freeze blood.
Mo Zhu turned back.
There she stood, alone atop the wall, Zhuling hanging at her waist. Her hands wove an intricate seal, a spell that would take most cultivators days to master—yet Yu Zhiling needed only a glance to commit it to memory.
Intricate seal scripts swirled in the void, expanding from the size of a small disk to a hundred, a thousand times larger, standing like an unyielding shield outside the city walls.
Her cyan robes were tattered, the jade ribbon tying her hair stained with blood, fluttering wildly in the wind. Yu Zhiling took a step back with her right foot, her gaze icy as she stretched the barrier to its limit, enveloping the entire city.
The Four Extremes Slaughter Array erupted at that moment, crimson light flooding the skies as the wails of the demonic fiends abruptly ceased.
The explosive shockwave rolled forth like a storm cloud, crashing violently against the barrier outside the city walls. Yu Zhiling gritted her teeth, bearing the brunt alone, her slender frame trembling as she held up a force ten thousand times her size. A sharp pain pierced her chest as she channeled every ounce of spiritual energy into reinforcing the array.
This slaughter array was formidable—it had trapped and annihilated at least a hundred thousand demonic fiends. The residual force of its detonation was akin to a Great Perfection-stage cultivator detonating their golden core, a strike powerful enough to rival the Transcendence Realm.
Yu Zhiling braced the barrier, her arms shaking as she was forced back step by step.
If she could just hold on for another quarter of an hour, until the shockwave outside dissipated, the city would be saved.
She didn’t use Frostwind Slash—she could do this alone.
She had to do this alone. Swallowing the blood rising in her throat, Yu Zhiling poured more spiritual energy into the barrier, lifting her nearly broken leg to take a step forward.
A single step—yet it felt like scaling the heavens.
Her arms faltered, and the barrier weakened slightly. The shockwave surged down like a collapsing mountain, forcing her back several more steps.
If she retreated any further, she would fall from the city wall.
Yu Zhiling clenched her jaw, her dantian churning violently as spiritual energy gathered into a fierce gale, reinforcing the barrier.
Even if her energy ran dry, she would hold this line. The city still held Mo Zhu and the others.
"Master."
A hand settled on her shoulder.
Yu Zhiling froze for a moment before the figure behind her stepped to her side, swiftly forming a hand seal—the same one she had just used, memorized in a single glance.
"Who told you to come up here? Get down! If I fail, you’ll die instantly!"
Mo Zhu completed the seal, channeling his spiritual energy outward as he steadied the array.
"I know."
"Go down! I won’t die! But if I falter, the shockwave will kill anyone this close!"
"Then don’t falter." A cold, mocking voice sounded from her other side. Wu Zhaoyan fumbled with his hand seal while glancing at Yun Zhi. "I swear, after this, I’m finding someone to teach me proper seal techniques. Yu Xiao-Wu, what kind of ridiculous seal is this? It’s impossible to draw!"
Yu Zhiling nearly coughed up blood from sheer frustration. "I can hold it alone! But all of you are injured—if I slip even slightly, you won’t survive this!"
"Wu Zhaoyan! Yun Zhi! Get down!"
Wu Zhaoyan rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Weren’t you the one who said we were your hope? Spouting such sentimental nonsense, and now you’re taking it back?"
Finally managing to replicate the barrier seal, the two Immortal Venerables poured nearly ninety percent of their spiritual energy into it. The crushing weight on Yu Zhiling lessened immediately—the mountain she had borne alone was now shared among the four of them.
She could see fresh blood seeping through Yun Zhi’s white robes at his waist, stark against the fabric.
Wu Zhaoyan’s brow remained furrowed as he continuously reinforced the barrier with new seals, his face growing paler by the second. Though he felt Yu Zhiling’s gaze, he refused to meet her eyes—he couldn’t bear to look at her now.
Yu Zhiling averted her gaze, only for her eyes to meet Mo Zhu’s.
He gave her a slight nod, wordlessly urging her to conserve her strength.
Yu Zhiling stared at the roiling crimson dust beyond the barrier, then closed her eyes and released another surge of spiritual energy.
They would survive this—together. No matter who was scheming behind the scenes, the people by her side would live.
The four of them emerged from the southern gate, where the road was packed with fleeing crowds.
The night watchman clutched the worn-out drum he had carried all his life, turning back to gaze at the city he had called home for decades.
Crimson light blazed across the sky, dark clouds churning above the city. Even from this distance, the tremors from the eastern gate were palpable.
A child perched on his father’s shoulders asked in a small, sweet voice, "Grandpa, Papa, where are we going?"
The man holding him sighed. "We’re just finding somewhere to hide for now. Once the Blade Sect deals with this… how can they possibly kill so many demons?"
Tens of thousands of fiends—even the Transcendent Realm Venerable Zhuo Yu couldn’t eradicate every single one. Among the four, the other two Immortal Venerables seemed injured, the young man’s robes in tatters, wounds visible beneath. Only Venerable Zhuo Yu remained unscathed.
The man motioned for his wife to follow as they continued their desperate escape.
The night watchman stood frozen, his aged eyes brimming with tears as he watched the crimson light—somehow held back, unable to breach the city.
The shrieks of the demonic fiends had vanished.
The man carrying his child turned back, patting the watchman’s shoulder. "Uncle Chen, why aren’t you leaving?"
The watchman shook his head. "Where would I go? My home is here."
He sat down on the ground, setting aside his rusted drum. "I’ve spent my whole life keeping watch over this city. If it falls today… what’s left for an old man like me?"
The man tried to pull him up. "Don’t talk like that! Let’s go—what if the Venerables can’t hold on? If they were certain, why would they evacuate us?"
The watchman didn’t move, instead reaching out to stroke the child’s head. "Go. Take the little one and go. I’m too tired to run."
Leaning against a tree, he murmured, "I’m old. I can’t walk miles to save myself. My wife is buried here, you know."
Left alone, he felt no fear. Sitting in the woods outside the city, he tapped his drum lightly, a faint smile crossing his weathered face.
He truly had no desire to leave. This city held his memories—a lifetime without children, all his departed kin resting within its walls. Where else could he go?
The watchman lifted his head, watching the distant sky split between crimson and darkness. He knew exactly who was holding back that destructive light.
The eerie red glow that should have leveled the city was being steadily repelled by an ever-strengthening golden radiance.
Closing his eyes, he listened—to the wind, the croaking of frogs in the woods, the distant shuddering of the city walls.
As a night watchman, time was his life. One breath, two breaths… half a quarter-hour passed.
His heart was calm. More stragglers rushed from the city, desperate to survive.
The watchman sat in the shadows, waiting.
A full quarter-hour later, he instinctively reached for his drum, ready to strike the hour—marking the time just past midnight.
But—
He slowly stood up, eyes widening as he watched the crimson glow in the eastern gate's direction dissipate at a visible pace. The rumbling of the shaking city walls gradually quieted until the golden shield protecting the city was withdrawn, and everything returned to stillness.
The fleeing citizens who had escaped the city stood frozen beside him, equally stunned.
They turned to look back—stars still dotted the night sky, and the moon hung full and bright overhead.
Yun Zhi and Wu Zhaoyan descended from the city walls and stumbled into a nearby pavilion, collapsing inside.
Wu Zhaoyan tossed a pill toward Yun Zhi. "Take it. You need to stop the bleeding."
Yun Zhi chuckled weakly. "I’ll need to recover for a while. If the Four Killing Realm stirs during this time, you and Xiao Wu will have to handle it."
Wu Zhaoyan snorted. "You’ve always been trouble—can’t handle wind, can’t handle rain."
Yun Zhi swallowed the pill and folded his hands over his chest, lying quietly. "But you and Xiao Wu always make sure I’m dressed warmly and hold an umbrella for me when it rains. You never minded my troubles."
Wu Zhaoyan turned his back, refusing his friend’s sentimental words. "You’ve spent too much time with Yu Xiao Wu. Your words are getting sappy. Don’t talk to me—let me rest. I’m exhausted."
Yun Zhi laughed softly, closing his eyes, too weary to even lift a hand.
Yu Zhiling sat cross-legged atop the city wall while Mo Zhu crouched before her, carefully wiping her hands with a silk handkerchief. "Master, why didn’t you say anything about being scratched by the demon wraiths?"
He had only just noticed the bloody wound near the base of her right palm.
Yu Zhiling murmured, "It’s nothing. You can’t walk by the river without getting your shoes wet."
Mo Zhu glanced up, correcting her earnestly. "That’s not how the saying goes."
Yu Zhiling smacked him lightly. "Who cares? I’ll say it however I want!"
The master was unreasonable, but the disciple was patient. He simply smiled and said nothing, focusing on drawing out the demonic energy from her wound.
"Master, after being surrounded by demon wraiths for so long, do you feel unwell?" Mo Zhu hesitated before asking, "Your inner demon…?"
Yu Zhiling waved a hand. "I’m fine. Not uncomfortable at all. Ever since I took that Skyward Lotus, my mind’s been steadier. Just a little inner demon—don’t worry."
She could always laugh, but Mo Zhu remained uneasy. Still, when he discreetly checked her meridians, he found no trace of the inner demon.
Forcing himself to relax, he bandaged her wound and sat facing her, their knees nearly touching.
Under his gaze, Yu Zhiling instinctively touched her face. "Why are you staring at me? Do I look filthy?"
She cast a cleansing spell, washing away the grime. Aside from her tattered robes, she now looked every bit the pristine Jade-Cleansing Immortal.
Not forgetting her disciple, she cast the same spell on him, restoring him to his usual striking appearance.
Satisfied, she didn’t notice Mo Zhu taking her hand—such closeness was familiar between them.
Mo Zhu spoke softly, "Master, do you know why we insisted on coming up here?"
Yu Zhiling pinched him. "You still dare ask? I told you to stay put, but none of you listened!"
The crescent-shaped marks from her nails didn’t bother him. He didn’t pull away, still watching her. "We were worried you’d get hurt. But more than that… we wanted you to understand that you don’t need Frostblade to accomplish great things."
"Master, you’re never alone. You don’t have to face storms by yourself. You have friends—no matter what happens, we’ll face it together. Please, don’t use Frostblade again."
"And… there’s me. I’ll always follow you. No regrets, no fear. Living is good, but dying together wouldn’t be so bad either."
They sat atop the towering city wall, the night silent around them, the moonlight pure and bright.
Facing each other, their hands intertwined, his warmth seeping into her. His gaze held only her.
Yu Zhiling’s throat tightened. Her lashes fluttered as her grip unconsciously tightened around his hand.
"Mo Zhu."
He brushed aside the wind-tossed strands of her hair. "Mm. I’m here."
Her fingers curled around his slender, jade-like hand. She looked down at their joined hands—his fingers were long and elegant, nails neatly trimmed, far larger than hers. Scratches marred his skin, veins prominent beneath.
She traced his ring finger, suddenly murmuring, "You know, I always thought a ring would suit this finger. Your hands are so beautiful."
"...A ring?"
Yu Zhiling smiled faintly. "A gift between lovers, symbolizing their bond."
Mo Zhu’s throat bobbed. He clasped her hand. "Do women wear them too?"
Yu Zhiling pointed to his left hand. "Men wear it here."
She wiggled her right hand. "Women wear it here."
Mo Zhu lowered his head, voice quiet. "Mm."
He untied the pouch at his waist and retrieved a small wooden box. Yu Zhiling tilted her head, peering curiously. "What are you doing?"
A jade ring slid onto her right hand.
The cold metal made her freeze. She stared at the ring now snug around her ring finger—a spiritual tool that adjusted to fit perfectly.
Mo Zhu’s ears reddened as he explained, "I bought this artifact earlier. It contains all the spirit stones I’ve saved over the years. It’s not much, nowhere near what Ying Mountain could offer you, but… I’ll work harder. I won’t let you suffer."
Her heart skipped. Meeting his earnest gaze, the ring burned like a brand. Abruptly, she yanked it off and tossed it back at him.
"You—you—why do you keep teasing me like this?!"
Mo Zhu fumbled to catch it, bewildered. "...What?"
He looked lost, unsure why she reacted this way. Was "teasing" an insult? Did she think the offering too meager?
Panicked, he stammered, "I’m sorry, I don’t have much now, but I can take missions, earn more—"
"Shut up!"
Yu Zhiling sprang to her feet and vaulted off the wall, vanishing in a flash.
Mo Zhu sat alone as the cold wind gusted. The chill he’d barely noticed earlier now cut to the bone.
His heart sank. The ring in his palm mocked him. Lips pressed thin, he reached for the box to put it away.
Before he could close the lid, a hand shot out and snatched it from him.
Mo Zhu looked up. "...Master?"
Yu Zhiling's face flushed crimson as she clutched the wooden box, stammering awkwardly, "I—I'll keep the money safe for you. Just ask me when you need to spend it."
In truth, it was her roundabout way of accepting the jade ring.
His eyes were faintly red—he must have been upset earlier. A pang of guilt twisted in Yu Zhiling's chest, her trembling fingers tightening around the box. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at the empty city streets.
Not a soul in sight.
Suddenly, she leaned in, cupped his face, and pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips.
A mere brush, gone as quickly as it came, yet the thunderous pounding of their hearts echoed between them, loud enough for both to hear.
"Don’t cry anymore. I’m leaving!"
Before Mo Zhu could react, she leapt off the towering city wall and fled in a fluster.
He remained seated on the wall, breath ragged, his sinking heart now suspended again—pounding wildly like thunder, like drums.
Mo Zhu lifted a hand, fingertips grazing his lips where hers had briefly lingered.
She had kissed him again.
This time, she wasn’t drunk.
