Chu'he ran back to the spot where she had fallen. Raising her head, she saw light filtering down, surrounded by vines and flowers growing wildly along the stone walls.
Gritting her teeth, she gripped her longsword and began climbing up the vines.
Chu'he had never been particularly strong, but the instinct to survive unleashed boundless potential within her. Every inch she moved upward was fueled by sheer desperation.
After what felt like an eternity, her face was scratched by the branches, and her hands were bloodied from gripping the rough vines.
Holding her breath, she finally managed to reach out past what seemed like an illusory barrier—the "water's surface."
But just as her foot slipped, threatening to send her plummeting again, a hand seized her arm from above, dragging her forcefully out of the "water" and onto solid ground.
Gasping for air, Chu'he pressed her hands against the earth, breathing heavily for a long while before she could steady herself.
"This pool is bottomless. How did you manage to climb out of it?"
Hearing the man's voice, Chu'he looked up, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Erlang?"
"What a coincidence, traveler," the man replied with a smile. He raised his hand and snapped at the servant behind him, "What are you standing around for? Can’t you see the lady’s face is dirty? Fetch a handkerchief, quick!"
The servant was burly yet delicate-skinned, clearly not someone accustomed to hard labor. At his master’s command, he fumbled out a handkerchief and respectfully handed it over.
Chu'he suddenly remembered.
Back on the post road of Canghaizhou, while she and Ninth were walking back to the city, they had encountered this very pair—a master and servant riding in a carriage. Later, they had shamelessly stolen their horse.
Only back then, the master had been this plump servant, and the servant had been the man now called Erlang.
Who would have thought that upon entering Wutong Village, their roles would be completely reversed?
Erlang kindly offered the handkerchief. "You gave us silver last time. Consider this handkerchief as something bought with the leftover coins."
"No need, thank you. I have urgent matters—I must go!"
Chu'he hastily grabbed her sword, scrambled to her feet, and stumbled forward in a frantic run.
The chubby servant’s eyes lingered on her retreating figure. "Such a beautiful girl. If only she could be my wife."
Erlang shot him a disdainful glance. "A toad lusting after swan’s flesh."
Along the way, villagers who had once seemed ordinary now moved with eerie precision, each absorbed in their tasks. But unlike before, the moment Chu'he dashed past, they all stopped in unison, their eyes locking onto her with unsettling intensity.
Clutching her sword tighter, Chu'he felt a chill crawl down her spine. After seeing the skeletons tangled in the vines, every face now filled her with dread.
Then, the villagers moved.
They surged toward her in perfect sync—some sprinting, others leaping with unnatural agility, and a few even dropping from rooftops and treetops in grotesque, twisted poses, surrounding her from all directions.
Dodging past two attackers, Chu'he found herself facing an even greater swarm.
She couldn’t die here.
Fumbling for the short flute at her waist, she brought it to her lips like a lifeline. After two shaky attempts, she finally managed to produce a melody.
From the grass, cracks in the stones, and shadows of the trees, countless skittering sounds converged. Dark, swarming insects crawled along the ground and up branches, scattering toward the advancing figures.
This was the most basic insect-summoning technique of Miaojiang. She had practiced for ages under Ninth’s guidance, yet this single tune was all she could master. When Ninth played, he could summon a sky-blotting tide of gu insects. But her melody only called forth a sparse scattering of earthbound bugs.
Though they briefly slowed the attackers, the insects lacked any real lethality.
Ninth had called her foolish, and she was.
Before long, an unfamiliar flute melody cut through the air, scattering the few insects she had summoned. The figures closed in again.
Chu'he didn’t dare look back, but she could feel the cold gust of wind as one of them lunged for her.
Exhausted from climbing out of the pool, her ankle swollen and throbbing, she staggered as the chilling presence closed in. Her legs gave way, and she pitched forward uncontrollably.
Before she could hit the cold ground, she was caught in familiar arms, the sound of ringing bells washing over her.
A strong arm wrapped tightly around her, pressing her securely against his chest.
"Ninth!" Chu'he lifted her dirt-streaked face, and upon seeing his familiar features, her eyes welled up with tears before joy could even register.
He glanced down with a soft smile, his voice gentle. "I’m here."
"I couldn’t stop—they were too fast. I couldn’t outrun them. Even the insects I summoned… they were all driven away. I was so scared… scared I’d get you killed—"
"Don’t cry. I’m fine." The young man patted her back soothingly, though his pale cheeks bore fresh scratches, belying his words.
Eyes crinkling fondly, he nuzzled her cheek, unbothered by the grime. "My foolish A’he, I know you tried your best. You did well."
Around them, a storm of blood and malice unfurled. An invisible pressure radiated outward, forcing the encroaching figures to halt three paces away, none daring to advance.
From the shadows, the flute sounded again, and the attackers turned to flee.
Ninth slowly lifted his crimson eyes—a shade so deep it bordered on unnatural, saturated with the metallic tang of blood. The wind carried his killing intent, thick and suffocating, freezing the air itself.
In the next instant, the fleeing figures collapsed.
Countless venomous scorpions poured from their sleeves, collars, and pant legs, swarming over their bodies in a writhing mass. Their throats produced only gurgling, blood-filled gasps before they could even scream.
Limbs twisted unnaturally, joints popping grotesquely as the insects feasted on flesh, the sounds of gnawing and tearing filling the air.
It was a scene straight from hell.
Yet amidst the carnage, the young man stood untouched—his silver ornaments chiming, white hair dancing in the wind, crimson robes fluttering. Cradling the girl in his arms, he shielded the last untouched sanctuary in this nightmare.
Bodies disintegrated into gory heaps, limbs scattering like fallen leaves.
Hidden in the shadows, the flute-wielder finally grasped the true horror of the Witchcraft and Gu Sorcery Sect’s young master. He turned to flee—only for the flute in his hand to explode. A searing pain shot through his fingers before something slimy and corrosive lashed out, coiling around him.
With a sickening thud, he was yanked forward and slammed into the blood-soaked earth.
"Ribbit!"
An enormous toad croaked cheerfully, as if delighted by its rare moment in the spotlight.
Still clutching her sword, Chu'he was lifted by Ninth and placed atop the toad’s back. More than the terror of death, the fear of causing her loved one’s demise had shaken her to the core.
Her sobs hadn’t ceased. The face that was usually so pristine and lovely was now a mess, streaked with tears that carved pale trails through the grime on her cheeks, looking almost comical.
Ninth stood before her, his fingertips lightly brushing the wounds on her face. "Does it hurt?"
Chu'he shook her head and asked, "Does it hurt for you?"
He smiled. "Not at all."
His hand then touched the red-string anklet around her foot, beneath which her ankle was badly swollen.
It wasn’t a sprain—her bone had dislocated when she fell into the pool.
Ninth spoke softly to her, "Are you scared?"
Chu'he shook her head. "I’m not."
Then, with a faint click, her bone was set back in place. After some rest, the swelling would likely subside.
Suddenly, Chu'he’s tears fell even harder. She wiped at them frantically with her scraped-up hands, smearing her face into a chaotic palette of gray and white.
Ninth held her by the waist, leaning in close as he whispered, "Does it hurt that much?"
Chu'he shook her head again, her vision blurred as she choked out, "It’s me… I’m the one who made you hurt!"
His hand on her waist stilled for a moment. A few strands of his silver-white hair slipped forward, resting against his chest before she clutched them tightly in her hand.
His crimson eyes lingered on her face, the turbulent emotions within them gradually suppressed as he gently wiped away her tears with his fingertips.
"Chu'he, you’re such a fool, worrying about me when you don’t even understand anything."
She sniffled, staring at him in confusion.
She really wasn’t very bright. Even now, she hadn’t realized that all the suffering and danger she’d faced were because of him.
If she had never met him, things like Miaojiang, gu poison, and conspiracies would have had nothing to do with her.
She would still be that carefree young lady from a wealthy family.
"I’ve never been able to bear seeing Chu'he cry. My Chu'he is most beautiful when she smiles."
"Chu'he loves me so much, she could never bear to be apart from me."
"But today, you made her shed so many tears. How will you make up for that?"
The silver-haired youth with crimson eyes let the red hem of his robes flutter amidst the blood and storm. Holding the girl’s hand, he tilted his body slightly, his smiling face finally deigning to glance at the person who had been lying on the ground for some time.
How did he manage it?
On the side facing the girl, he was tender and warm, but toward the insignificant creature on the ground, he was nothing but cruel and bloodthirsty.
Lan Yingying was already drenched in blood, her entire body dyed red. The moment she met the youth’s gaze, a chill surged from her heart, spreading rapidly through her limbs.
"Your expression right now is quite good."
A foot came down lightly, and Lan Yingying heard the sound of her right leg’s bones shattering. She screamed in agony.
Song Tieniu couldn’t fly, so by the time he heard the commotion and rushed over, the sight of Lan Yingying’s miserable state made him instinctively try to intervene.
"Ninth, wait! There might be a misunderstanding here!"
Ninth glanced at him, the corners of his lips curling as he chuckled.
He called out, "Little Qing."
The small green snake slithered onto the toad’s back before darting over to Chu'he, coiling around her eyes to block her vision.
Before Chu'he could pull Little Qing away, she suddenly heard a woman’s piercing scream.
Then came Song Tieniu’s horrified voice as he ran closer. "Ninth… you… you…"
Chu'he finally managed to grab the little snake away, but what she saw next left her mind blank with shock.
Lan Yingying lay writhing on the ground, one eye socket gushing blood, the crimson liquid covering half her face. She clutched at the ruined side, her breaths ragged and desperate.
Ninth’s expression was indifferent as he casually tossed the extracted object aside. When he turned to Song Tieniu, his pale face regained its usual innocent, childlike smile.
"My Chu'he cried so many tears. Taking one of her eyes as compensation isn’t too much, is it?"
He lifted his foot slightly before setting it down again, crushing the eyeball into pulp beneath his heel.
Ninth had never possessed any sense of morality or justice. The reason he usually acted human was solely because Chu'he’s existence gave him a reason to pretend.
But "pretending" didn’t mean he had truly become a living, breathing "person."
His cruelty had always been concealed beneath an innocent facade, unrestrained and driven purely by whim. All his violence flowed freely, without reason or regard for right and wrong.
A sudden realization struck Song Tieniu—
He could hide the deadliest poison within the softest melody of a flute, or turn the gentlest gu worm into a weapon of slaughter in an instant.
He could smile as purely as a mountain spring, yet in the next moment, transform his surroundings into a blood-soaked hell.
So this was the true Ninth.
