◎ (Revised) The Sheathed Blade ◎
The night wind billowed through her sleeves like butterfly wings, while the hem of her robe had long been dirtied from dragging on the ground. The cumbersome wide sleeves and layered skirts made movement difficult, and Bai Li nearly tripped several times.
Sword glints occasionally flashed overhead as she crouched low, pressing herself against the wall, planning to slip out from the rear. The front was undoubtedly a battlefield of chaos—if she foolishly charged in, she’d be nothing more than cannon fodder.
Though she didn’t recognize this place, at least it hadn’t yet been caught in the crossfire. Just as Bai Li was about to round the corner, two disciples soared past on their swords. Judging by their robes, they were disciples of the Giant Blade Sword Sect on patrol.
"...Have you heard? The four disciples under Uncle Chen of the Shouyang Sect died horribly—slaughtered halfway here, never even reaching the gates of the White Jade Tower. Even the two hostages they were escorting were taken."
"You mean they were killed by that nobody surnamed Wen? Impossible! In these troubled times, we should stand united. Stop spouting such sensational nonsense to scare me."
"I’m telling the truth! Let’s be honest—Uncle Chen is only a mid-level talisman cultivator, not even fit to lick the soles of our senior brother’s boots. Among his four direct disciples, the only one worth mentioning is that Zhao Mingrui. The other three were mediocre at best, only good for logistical work. The real vanguard is left to us."
Hiding in the shadows, Bai Li silently recalled the three cultivators who had tried to kill her.
They really had been rather weak.
The arrogant sword sect disciple continued, "And let’s not forget, this expedition to Longzhou to suppress the Wen Clan was ultimately Uncle Chen’s idea. Fifty years ago, his son and daughter both died at—" He gestured toward the towering White Jade Tower, giving his companion a knowing look.
"Officially, it’s about avenging his children. But unofficially? He probably wants to claim this Moonveil Pavilion for himself. I bet he hoped this campaign would establish his reputation in the Central Region, but instead, he lost four disciples right out the gate. You should’ve seen his face when he got the news—purpler than pig’s liver! He swore to tear the culprit limb from limb to avenge his beloved disciples. Hah! As if he had the strength. Did he really think a minor sect like his could meddle in these waters?"
He stretched lazily, yawning. "Who knows how the battle’s going up front. It’s so boring just patrolling here."
"If you’re bored, why don’t you two go take a look at the White Jade Tower?"
The two disciples startled. Beneath the lantern-lit corridor stood a figure as pristine as jade, his long hair like black silk, tied back with a delicate white jade cicada clasp, two long ribbons of his headdress draped over his shoulders.
His voice was like shattering jade from Kunlun Mountain—but Bai Li’s knees nearly buckled at the sound. She sucked in a sharp breath. Isn’t this… Isn’t this… Talk about bad luck!
"Young Master Xue!" The two sword sect disciples quickly recognized him, lowering their guard and bowing in greeting. "Young Master, our senior brother has already led the assault on the White Jade Tower. We were assigned to patrol the Ancestral Hall… Speaking of which, we didn’t see you earlier. Where have you been?"
His voice remained light with amusement. "Who’s looking for me?"
"N-No! No one’s looking for you!" The two disciples fumbled over their words, waving their hands. "We just couldn’t find you during our patrol. With the situation so chaotic, we were worried you might be in danger alone, so we asked."
"So it was you two on patrol."
They exchanged confused glances. What did he mean by that? Wasn’t it normal for them to patrol? This was their assigned jurisdiction.
But given his status, they didn’t dare question further.
"On my way here, I ran into Uncle Duan Yue. He’s short on hands—why don’t you go assist him? There’s nothing worth seeing in this desolate place. Even if any stragglers stumble in, they won’t escape with me here."
This Young Master Xue from the Eastern Region was surprisingly approachable, never putting on the haughty airs of a noble heir. Throughout this three-sect alliance, he had been cooperative and well-liked.
Bored from patrolling, the two disciples had been itching to join the frontlines. Without suspicion, they summoned their sword glows and shot toward the crimson-clouded western sky.
The next moment, those two sword lights plummeted like severed kites, vanishing into the night as two streaks of blood.
"What a shame." The youth’s voice, smooth as jade and brimming with playful malice, carried like a breeze under the moon. "They flew the wrong way."
Holy— Holy—! Just like that? No warning, no mercy? What kind of inhumanity was this?!
Bai Li scrambled into a nearby building, slamming the door shut behind her.
The room was vast, lined with dozens of ancestral tablets. Three solemn portraits hung on the walls, flanked by two softly burning lantern trees—she had accidentally barged into the Ancestral Hall.
If she remembered correctly, this place held many secrets. And where there were secrets, villains were never far behind. It wouldn’t be long before that murderous demon outside stepped in, sharing the same space as her—maybe even a face-to-face, life-ending conversation.
Seriously?! Could her luck get any worse? Even finding a hiding spot led her straight into the lion’s den!
With no escape, Bai Li steeled herself and climbed onto the highest incense altar at the far end, squeezing behind a curtain. She fished out a Spirit-Concealing Pill from her pouch and swallowed it, suppressing her spiritual presence to the bare minimum.
The door she had just closed burst open. A pair of white boots embroidered with intricate gold threads deliberately stepped over the bloodstains on the threshold, golden powder shimmering like dancing sprites in the moonlight.
Bai Li’s heart pounded. Through the gap in the curtain, she could clearly see the youth standing just steps away.
He looked different from their first encounter. Over his fitted attire, he now wore a pristine snow-silk robe, its hem adorned with golden embroidery—the emblem of the Golden Scale Xue Clan. He stood there quietly, posture elegant, his obsidian eyes glimmering softly in the candlelight. His skin was so pale it seemed translucent, like crystallized ice.
If their first meeting had revealed his razor-sharp edge, now he was like a lethal blade sheathed in an exquisite platinum scabbard—deceptively harmless, devoid of any trace of danger or bloodlust.
He seemed unaware of the intruder in the room, leisurely studying the portraits on the wall like a curious passerby pausing for a moment.
Don’t see me, don’t see me.
Bai Li quietly lowered the curtain to block his line of sight. If she stayed still and silent like a rock, he might just overlook her.
"Fellow cultivator hiding over there, why not come out?" The youth’s melodious voice broke the stillness. He didn’t even glance her way.
Bai Li froze. Not just her heart—even her pupils trembled violently.
She’d been discovered.
"Still not showing yourself?" Slowly, he turned his gaze toward her. Those dark, fathomless eyes gleamed like black obsidian submerged in water—darker than the night, brighter than the moon.
The moment before their eyes could meet, Bai Li snapped the curtain shut with a sharp flick of her wrist. But it was already too late—footsteps drew closer, far too close for her to find another hiding spot in time.
Staring at the bloodstains splattered across her clothes, Bai Li hesitated for a long moment before gritting her teeth and smearing the blood all over her hands.
The footsteps halted abruptly. A hand, its bones sharply defined, gently lifted the curtain.
Darkness spilled out, thick with the metallic tang of blood, followed by the tumble of a girl in a red-and-black embroidered dress.
She was unconscious, her forehead marred by a glaring smear of blood.
The great villain, clad in pristine white like freshly fallen snow, clearly had a severe aversion to filth. The moment she rolled out, he took a step back, making no move to catch her—never mind that the incense altar was nearly eight feet high. A fall from that height would either kill her or leave her crippled.
He did it on purpose! Bai Li cursed him inwardly, tears streaming down her face as she mentally flipped him off.
Yet, at the very last instant before she hit the ground, something gently hooked beneath her shoulders and the bend of her knees, cushioning her fall as if she’d been caught by a wisp of cloud.
"You're awake? That was close." The young man knelt on one knee, having caught her at the critical moment—yet not a single inch of his hands touched her skin. Had Bai Li not known his true nature, she might have mistaken him for a Confucian gentleman, scrupulously upholding propriety.
Close? Close your head! Waiting until the last second to act—wasn’t this just a test to see if I was truly unconscious or faking it? If I’d opened my eyes, would I be dead already?
"Fellow cultivator, why are you here alone?" His dark, liquid eyes held scattered flecks of light. If one could glimpse the purest depths of a person’s soul through their gaze, then he had masterfully disguised this treacherous abyss as a sky full of romantic stars.
Bai Li could feel the hand beneath her shoulder ready to snap her neck at any moment. She could only be grateful she’d altered her appearance earlier—otherwise, if he recognized her now, wouldn’t she end up like those other two, denied even a chance to plead before being handed a one-way ticket to the afterlife?
She opened her mouth to explain, "Actually, I—"
"Actually, you were being hunted, hit your head here, and only just woke up from the fall." His icy fingers brushed over the nonexistent wound on her forehead, then lifted them to show her the crimson stain. "Is that what you were going to say?"
Bai Li: "..." How dare you steal my lines!
"Was it really a head injury? Then why can’t I find a single wound?" He leaned in, his cold hand settling around her throat, tightening slowly. "Or is the blood coming from here instead?"
He wasn’t even exerting force. There was no murderous intent in his eyes—only a smile so gentle it was terrifying. Yet Bai Li could barely breathe. She’d been naive. Having stumbled upon this villain’s murderous secret, how could she possibly escape death?
Only a miracle could save her now.
In that split second, a blinding sword-light shot through the air like a streaking arrow. The young man’s gaze darkened, his grip loosening slightly.
A sword-light that radiant… Jiang Biehan?
Gasping for air, Bai Li seized the fleeting opportunity and shouted, "Fellow Cultivator Jiang, your timing is impeccable!"
