Knowing his cause was lost, Old Man Longsword gnashed his teeth in hatred. He glared at the two with bloodshot eyes, but ultimately did not dare to stay any longer. Clutching his wound, he fled miserably, leaving behind only a string of unwilling curses that dissipated in the wind.
The Black-clad Venerable's eyes turned cold, and the spiritual energy around him suddenly tightened. With a light flick of his dark sleeves, he prepared to strike and stop this green-clad youth who had intercepted him halfway.
But in the next moment, Shu Qingyi immediately withdrew all his sharp aura. Holding the plain silver intertwining branch hairpin with both hands, he stepped forward quickly in an extremely respectful posture.
"Venerable, I return this item to you."
The Black-clad Venerable was a handsome youth. He was slightly surprised, but did not rush to take it, instead asking, "You want to give this top-grade magical treasure to me?"
"I belong to no sect or faction, just a rogue cultivator. I have long heard the great name of Chongyang Mountain. Only a Venerable like you is worthy of such a treasure. If it falls into the hands of a rogue cultivator like me, it would be a waste of a precious gift, and might even bring about a fatal disaster."
He lowered his eyes slightly, his tone steady and humble: "Meeting the Venerable today is my serendipity. Offering this item is only natural. I dare not have any greedy thoughts; I only beg the Venerable to recommend me. If I could become a disciple of Chongyang Mountain, it would be my greatest fortune."
Such phenomena were not uncommon among cultivators, currying favor with people from large sects just to get an opportunity to enter the sect and cultivate.
The Black-clad Venerable quietly glanced at the green-clad youth.
To be able to cultivate to the Nascent Soul stage at such a young age was already quite good. If he had the support of a sect, he could indeed go further on the path of cultivation.
And more importantly, he was very satisfied with this body of his.
The Black-clad Venerable nodded slightly, his tone still cold. "Chongyang Mountain has always welcomed those whose hearts are set on the Dao. Once we leave the secret realm, you can follow me back to Chongyang Mountain."
As his voice fell, his long fingers curled slightly, about to pull the plain silver intertwining branch hairpin into his palm through the air. But just as his fingertips touched the cold silver surface of the hairpin, a sinister, bone-piercing chill suddenly backlashed along his spiritual energy meridians.
A vicious forbidden spell had long been placed on the hairpin, waiting to detonate the instant he touched it.
The respectful and humble look in Shu Qingyi's eyes was instantly torn away, replaced by a ruthless, bone-chilling killing intent.
Almost at the exact moment the Black-clad Venerable's expression changed, the power that had been brewing in his palm gathered. His move was sinister and tricky, attacking straight at the opponent's heart without a shred of mercy.
The sneak attack came unexpectedly. As the piercing pain of the chill entangling his spiritual meridians suddenly exploded, the Black-clad Venerable's eyes turned cold. A tyrannical wave of air erupted from his dark robes. He hastily dodged sideways, but his shoulder was still swept by that vicious energy, and he let out a muffled groan.
The youth who was docile and respectful just moments ago had now turned into a life-claiming blade. From the very beginning, he had laid out this deadly trap of offering a treasure to launch a sneak attack.
Blood seeped from the Black-clad Venerable's shoulder, his dark robes torn by the blast. He looked up at Shu Qingyi, a bone-deep chill in his eyes, and questioned word by word, "Since I have already agreed to let you enter Chongyang Mountain, why do you still strike to kill?"
Spiritual energy gathered in Shu Qingyi's hand once again, his killing intent fully exposed. "Blame it on the fact that you just had to be called the Black-clad Venerable."
Before his words faded, the youth's figure flashed, aiming straight for the Black-clad Venerable's lifeblood.
With his meridians blocked by the chill, the Black-clad Venerable's movements were half a beat too slow. Defending hastily, he ultimately proved no match. A fierce blast of energy pierced through his chest. His pupils contracted sharply as his body crashed heavily to the ground, his breath instantly cut off.
But at the exact moment of his death, a bizarre black mist, thick as ink, suddenly surged madly from his heart. Carrying monstrous malice and unwillingness, it attempted to tear through the air and escape.
A green barrier of light suddenly spread out, trapping the black mist tightly in the center and cutting off all its escape routes.
Shu Qingyi turned his head.
A green skirt fluttered lightly in the wind as a young pregnant woman slowly walked out. Her brows and eyes were serene, surrounded by a faint green spiritual energy. The light barrier that had just imprisoned the black mist had spread from her hands.
Han Yu swam beside her, looking very much like it had become her little follower.
Mu Ran looked at the trapped black mist and raised her eyebrows slightly. "So it's you."
The black mist clamored, "Let me out, let me out!"
Mu Ran reached out her hand. With just this subtle movement, the green spiritual energy lingering at her fingertips instantly seemed to come alive, pouring madly along the patterns of the light barrier.
The black mist, which had been struggling, was instantly entangled tightly by a dense layer of green light, leaving not a single gap for it.
Then, her fingertips abruptly clenched.
In an instant, the green light surged, piercing ruthlessly into the black mist like thousands of steel needles.
The black mist let out a mournful shriek and was instantly shredded into countless tiny ink-like dots. Without leaving even a fraction of a remnant soul, it completely dissipated into the world, leaving behind only a faint scent of blood that was quickly blown away by the breeze.
The light barrier then faded, and silence returned to the forest.
Far away, inside a cave dwelling on Chongyang Mountain, a person in secluded cultivation suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.
He looked at the deeply wrinkled skin on his arm, which was shedding quite a bit of wood chips like dead tree bark, and let out a soft sigh.
"...So, this is the end."
In the dense forest, Mu Ran, having used her power, suddenly felt dizzy. In the next moment, a strong arm steadily wrapped around her waist, gently pulling her into a chest that carried a clear, cool scent.
The youth's voice hid an unconcealable panic and concern. "Where does it hurt?"
Mu Ran quickly regained her strength. She stood up on her own, smiled, and shook her head. "I'm fine, just a little tired."
She quietly placed one hand behind her back.
Han Yu saw that her hand had turned transparent for a split second, as if her entire being was about to disappear.
It swam around anxiously but couldn't tell its master.
Mu Ran leaned into his embrace, pressing against his chest. "Hold me while I sleep for a while, okay?"
Shu Qingyi's heart softened. The sharp and imposing look in his eyes from just a moment ago instantly withdrew all its edge. He just nodded gently, his voice extremely low: "Okay."
He carefully picked her up in his arms, his movements so light for fear of disturbing her. With a flash of his figure, he found a hidden, dry cave beneath a waterfall.
The cave was cool and quiet, with only the murmuring sound of water outside.
Shu Qingyi sat down on a cold bluestone, gently holding her in his arms, letting her rest peacefully against his shoulder. Supporting her steadily with one hand, he remained motionless.
Mu Ran had already fallen asleep from exhaustion, her brows slightly furrowed, her breathing shallow.
He just sat there like that, quietly guarding the sleeping person in his arms.
Not long after, Han Yu saw the hairpin he had obtained through underhanded means appear in his hand, and it quickly swam over.
Master, her cultivation level is even higher than yours. Are you sure you don't want to keep it for yourself?
The youth said softly, "She is my woman."
Though young in age, growing up amidst a storm of blood and slaughter had made him far more mature and paranoid than his peers.
Once he had set his mind on something or someone, he would never change it, even unto death.
He carefully freed one hand and gently brushed aside the stray strands of hair by her ear, intending to securely pin the hairpin in place. But the moment his fingertips touched her hair, he froze.
Nestled within her soft, raven hair was an identical plain silver hairpin engraved with intertwined branches.
The intricate patterns and the subtle fluctuations of spiritual energy were exactly the same.
The young man slowly clenched his hand, his knuckles turning white.
He never believed in absurd coincidences.
This hairpin belonged to the present; it was a rare treasure he had just fought to obtain. Yet, she was already wearing it. There could only be one explanation.
She was not from this time.
Suddenly, all his lingering doubts were answered.
Why had she been so affectionate and completely unguarded around him from the very moment they met?
Why could she always see right through him, understanding him better than he understood himself?
Why... why did she always look at him with such a tender, aching gaze, as if she were looking at a priceless treasure she had lost and finally found again?
His throat tightened. It felt as though something warm yet bittersweet had fiercely gripped his heart, making even his breaths tremble.
He lowered his head, quietly watching her sleeping features. Pressing his lips against hers, he murmured in a voice so faint only he could hear, carrying an almost imperceptible tremble:
"You were already my wife, weren't you?"
