The roar signaling the opening of the Ghost Gate was like the howl of a beast, wantonly gnawing at every corner of Wu City in the chaotic night.
Those not yet asleep all emerged at the same moment upon hearing the sound, without exception filled with curiosity, eager to catch a glimpse of the visiting cultivators' demeanor.
However, contrary to everyone's expectations, Jiang Tu, as the de facto ruler of Wu City, should have been waiting by the Ghost Gate to greet the guests as per tradition. Yet now, for some unknown reason, he had not shown himself.
Echoing this strange absence was a thought-provoking, thunderous noise from the Moon Embracing Pavilion.
To be honest, Wen Miaorou's feelings were not very good inside this magnificent and opulent high tower.
To be precise, it should be described as "absolutely terrible."
Everything that happened tonight was completely different from what she had anticipated.
According to intelligence from her information network, ever since Fu Chaosheng's failed assassination attempt, Jiang Tu had been constantly worried about copycats. Thus, he had hired four cultivators to take turns guarding him day and night.
Wen Miaorou had prepared for tonight's revenge for a long time. Her initial plan was to forge an invitation identical to Master Zhou's, entering the top floor of the Moon Embracing Pavilion rightfully as an invited guest.
Since the four hired guards took shifts, the opponents to be wary of on-site would only be Jiang Tu and another demonic cultivator around the Nascent Soul stage. Even if Master Zhou hadn't left yet, based on her understanding of him, he likely wouldn't attack her.
Master Zhou, though he had wasted away, still had backbone. If the timing was right, he might even fight alongside her.
Her chances of winning weren't great, but there was still hope.
Yet, from the moment she pushed the door open, things completely deviated from the plan—
A surge of sword energy erupted and scattered, forcing her back a step. As for whose hand that sword energy came from, Wen Miaorou could recognize it at a glance.
But why... had Master Zhou started fighting them first?
What was even more unexpected to her was that Jiang Tu's level of cowardice far exceeded imagination.
Being inherently cautious, he suspected that the people's hearts in Wu City were unsettled. So tonight he had actually brought all four of his guards to his side to ensure his safety.
Therefore, when Wen Miaorou stepped into the main hall, the first thing she saw was Master Zhou holding his sword, entangled with four figures.
And that genuine tyrant sat lazily in his seat, watching the spectacle with great interest, as if observing a cat-and-mouse farce from the sidelines — a true display of perverse, sadistic pleasure.
Noticing the sudden intrusion, everyone in the hall, including Master Zhou, turned their gaze towards her in unison.
Master Zhou's brow furrowed tightly. Just as he was about to speak, a storm-like onslaught instantly drew all his attention. Two of the ghost cultivators exchanged a brief glance and, with a tacit understanding, switched targets and attacked her together.
Thus, the extremely unfair four-against-one became a slightly less unfair four-against-two.
Wen Miaorou's mind was in complete chaos, and she could only grit her teeth and engage.
Thanks to her joining, Master Zhou's dire situation was significantly alleviated. Both of them were at the Nascent Soul stage. Although it took considerable effort, they ultimately managed to defeat all their opponents.
The only consequence of this situation was that by the time Jiang Tu slowly rose from his seat, the two of them didn't have much strength left.
How despicable. Looking at this man's supremely arrogant demeanor, Wen Miaorou felt sick to her stomach.
In the Ghost Domain, the Nascent Soul stage wasn't considered particularly remarkable cultivation.
The reason Jiang Tu could run amok in Wu City was entirely because it was a true backwater, lacking any cultivators capable of rivaling him. Yet he felt exceptionally pleased with himself, practically able to write a book titled "The One and Only Method for a Confident Man."
Even now it was the same. She and Master Zhou had been drained by the other four, yet Jiang Tu looked even more haughty than usual, as if all of it were his own merit, strutting about so proudly he seemed to stir up wind with every step.
Wen Miaorou cursed inwardly.
Jiang Tu used a saber. The moment his curved blade was drawn, it immediately caused a sharp, chilling wind.
Light as a swallow, she swiftly sidestepped to avoid a slash, simultaneously using her muscles and bones to protect her body, blocking the vicious wind blades rushing toward her face. She spoke urgently, "How did you end up fighting them? Taking on five by yourself—wasn't that suicide?"
When I arrived, I saw only Jiang Tu. It wasn't until I drew my sword that I discovered four others lying in ambush.
Master Zhou was already somewhat breathless, dark clouds gathering between his brows as he restrained his expression. "And why did you come here? Eager to show off just after breaking through to Nascent Soul?"
Jiang Tu's attacks grew faster. Wen Miaorou had no time to answer, only managing a hurried glance at him.
People in Wu City all said Master Zhou had changed a lot.
When Fu Chaosheng was determined to carry out the assassination, he was severely injured and hadn't recovered, lying sickly in bed for several years. Later, when he was mostly healed, Fu Chaosheng had long since vanished without a trace.
Perhaps due to his friend's departure, or because he grew accustomed to a leisurely life, this former powerhouse gradually dulled his edge and became an always-smiling, unambitious little shopkeeper. Any dashing spirit had long since been worn away without a trace.
Wen Miaorou had thought so too.
Until she witnessed Master Zhou's footwork and sword technique with her own eyes.
When Master Zhou and Fu Chaosheng first arrived in Wu City, the former was already severely injured and bedridden. After Fu Chaosheng disappeared, he became as lazy as a caterpillar, rarely even picking up his sword.
Therefore, this was the first time Wen Miaorou had seen him seriously draw his sword.
Master Zhou had an innocent, harmless, baby-faced appearance, yet every movement and stance was filled with lethal intent. His long sword condensed an invisible, fierce wind in midair, snuffing out a row of candles to the right one by one. The window curtains were shredded as well, fluttering down in a flurry from the upper floor.
Too fast.
Streaks of sword light flowed like streaming shadows, dazzling her eyes. Even though his stamina was depleted, in those few brief moments Master Zhou could still fight his opponent to a draw; the two were evenly matched.
This was absolutely not the demeanor of someone who had wasted away for years, never having touched a blade or sword.
Wen Miaorou seemed to understand a little.
After Fu Chaosheng's death, the person Jiang Tu feared most was this famously named "Prison Sword."
At that time, Master Zhou was still injured and ill, completely defenseless. Arguing would lead to execution, explaining for Fu Chaosheng would lead to execution, and even after recovering from his injuries, with his cultivation gradually approaching Jiang Tu's, he would most likely be executed.
To dispel the other's wariness, he could only resort to this last resort.
He lived against his will for a full fifty years, secretly continuing to practice his sword behind everyone's back. After enduring this bitter hardship, he finally waited for today.
In truth, this matter had nothing to do with Master Zhou from start to finish. Even if he left Wu City, no one would utter a word of blame.
Yet, solely because of Fu Chaosheng, this matter became completely and entirely a secret belonging to Master Zhou alone.
He was determined to take revenge, even if it meant mutual destruction—this was his final responsibility and promise to his comrade.
Jiang Tu saw their dwindling stamina. Although he himself was also badly injured, he still burst into loud, uninhibited laughter, his expression growing even more excited.
Blades of chaotic light fell, splitting the wooden pillars in the main hall. The tower could no longer hold; it began to collapse from the corners, gradually crumbling downward.
A blade-sharp spiritual force pierced her abdomen. As Wen Miaorou winced in pain, she felt an even more ruthless impact, sending her flying back several dozen feet.
The moment excruciating pain swept through her entire body, she already knew the outcome of this night.
It's just a pity... they were so close to success.
From outside the attic, the noisy footsteps of many people faintly approached, and later, the sound of conversation gradually grew louder, as if they were arguing about something.
Zhou Shen finally collapsed. Jiang Tu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, glanced indifferently out the window, and frowned impatiently: "What are those troublesome commoners up to again... Do they actually dare to enter my Moon-Embracing Pavilion?"
Wen Miaorou's heart skipped a beat, and a certain name surfaced in her mind.
That girl named Xie Jingci also knew Fu Chaosheng's whereabouts.
She must have made everything public, which is why so many people had gathered here, seeking an explanation.
The Moon-Embracing Pavilion was filled with Jiang Tu's lackeys. To reach the top floor, one would likely have to fight their way through those people.
And it was precisely this amount of time that would be enough for Jiang Tu to kill her and Zhou Shen.
They were only off by such a short moment.
Truly unlucky.
As agony assailed her whole being, Wen Miaorou saw Jiang Tu grip his curved blade, looking down at Zhou Shen before him.
The cold tip of the blade slowly traced his spine, finally pausing briefly near his heart.
From the moment she was born, it seemed "good luck" had never existed in Wen Miaorou's entire life.
She was the literal definition of losing every bet and choking even on plain water. When she told Fu Chaosheng about her misfortunes, she heard him give a soft laugh.
After that, Wen Miaorou suddenly began to have a streak of good luck.
Passing by a restaurant, she inexplicably became their hundredth customer, earning a month of free lunches; a mysterious person started secretly placing flowers on her windowsill every morning, claiming they thought she was a lovely girl, deserving of a small flower as a gift.
It was the first time in her life, from childhood onward, that she received such straightforward recognition and approval from a stranger. Wen Miaorou was so happy she skipped around for three whole days, carefully treasuring each unremarkable little flower.
Later, Fu Chaosheng left.
She never received flowers at her window in the morning again.
It wasn't until that day, when she was still young, that she belatedly realized: she was still as unlucky as ever. That so-called "good luck" was merely another person's painstaking effort.
Her good fortune was all gifted by Fu Chaosheng.
The curved blade slowly pressed down. Wen Miaorou saw a splash of crimson bloom on Zhou Shen's back.
Jiang Tu was also seriously injured. If anyone were to appear suddenly, they would have a chance to instantly turn the tide. Yet, the corridor outside remained silent. No one came, nor could anyone possibly come.
She really was... unlucky her whole life. Even at death's door, she couldn't encounter a shred of good fortune.
"Farewell, Master Zhou."
As Jiang Tu finished speaking, he pressed the blade down. His low, male voice held not a trace of emotion, chilled by the winter snow, the last word striking the quiet snowy night like a falling bead.
Wen Miaorou trembled, took a deep breath, and clenched the protective talisman she had cherished for so long.
Inside the talisman was a petal from many years ago.
Fu Chaosheng.
Just a little bit of good luck, if it's possible—
And precisely in that fleeting moment.
From within the boundless twilight outside the window, another sound of something cutting through the wind suddenly arose simultaneously—the momentum of the blade wind was like splitting bamboo—
Aiming straight for Jiang Tu's brow!
Wen Miaorou: !!!
This sudden turn of events came without warning. Wen Miaorou's eyes flew open wide. Before she could even get a clear look, she felt a bone-piercing cold wind surge through the window.
No, that wasn't wind.
That was a... person crashing through the window.
Wen Miaorou held her breath, hearing her own frantic heartbeat.
—How did she get here from a place like that?!
The person hadn't ascended the stairs like the other commoners. Instead, she had ridden a magical tool through the air and leaped down from outside the window.
She held a slender, straight blade that was pitch black and oddly shaped. Using the residual momentum from her flight, she charged forward at an incredible speed. Though she was a young woman, she was filled with a fierce aura, wild as a wolf.
The straight blade lifted with the motion, reflecting sharp glints amidst the candlelight.
Even Jiang Tu hadn't anticipated such a development. For a moment, he found it difficult to block this ferocious surge of killing intent and could only abandon Zhou Shen, hastily retreating several steps.
The black blade drew back.
The newcomer had been slightly crouched. Now, halting her movement, she stood before Zhou Shen, took a light breath, raised her eyes, and straightened up.
Xie Jingci's features were beautiful and radiant, now shrouded in killing intent, like a sharp blade suddenly appearing amidst clusters of blooming flowers—exposed, fierce, and severe. Even within that astonishing beauty lay a hint of bloodlust.
Jiang Tu's perfectly calculated grand performance was forced to end prematurely. His face darkened as if splashed with ink, fury barely contained in his eyes as he stared fixedly at her.
A moment of silence.
"Don't glare at me like that."
Her tone was light and airy as she smiled, lifting her lips: "The reason I came isn't to disturb you all, but to join you."
At first glance, this sentence didn't seem to have much of a problem, but Xie Jingci clearly heard a snicker from the system in her ear.
Xie Jingci had reason to suspect that the sudden delivery of this line at such a critical moment was very likely its deliberate mischief.
As one of the classic quotes of the "green tea" persona, this line could be considered the enduring Longjing or Pu'er of the tea world. However, what others were joining was a family. What was she joining?
A brawl.
Xie Jingci: ...
This isn't green tea; it's gutter oil.
Wen Miaorou, recovering from her shock, urgently raised her voice: "Nonsense! What are you doing here!"
"The children in the building... they're all waiting for you to come home."
The young woman holding the blade fell silent for a moment, glanced at her, and curled a very gentle smile at the corner of her mouth: "One girl told me she wants to hear you read that letter left behind before you departed, aloud—if it weren't for their constant urging along the way, I wouldn't have gotten here so quickly. To barely make it in time is truly fortunate."
Wen Miaorou was left speechless, stunned.
After achieving some modest success in her cultivation, she had followed Fu Chaosheng's example and taken in many homeless children.
She knew she was utterly unlucky and held no expectations for herself. The only thing she could do was give those children a little bit of luck, so they wouldn't be as unfortunate as she was.
But tonight, it was they who had given her a piece of good luck.
Good fortune she hadn't seen in many, many years...
Xie Jingci said no more. She turned to face the blood-soaked Jiang Tu, cold light swirling around the long blade in her hand.
Snowflakes drifted down quietly from the collapsed roof, instantly sliced into fragments by the blade. Surging spiritual power, like a heavenly river flowing backward, instantly spread out in all directions, erupting with a prolonged, low hum.
Xie Jingci: "Come on, draw your blade."
