Jiang Ci forced her lips to curl upward, trying to offer a reassuring smile. But she rarely smiled, and since this one was forced, the expression sat awkwardly on her face no matter how one looked at it—the corners of her mouth turned up, but her eyes remained still, making her face look as if it were being pulled from both sides. It was hard to tell if it was a smile or something else.
“Actually, you could just turn me in for the reward,” she said, her voice faltering. “Ten thousand spirit crystals... Even I would want to turn myself in for that.” She wanted to sound lighthearted, as if she were joking, but her voice trailed off at the end anyway. Suppressing the rising bitterness and sharp pain in her chest, she carefully enunciated every word, terrified her voice would shake. The time she had spent here with Lu Yan was one of the few periods in her life when she didn't have to worry about what tomorrow would bring. No missions to think about, no cultivation to worry about, and no unreachable “glory” to strive for. Every day was simply waking up, changing her bandages, eating porridge, and waiting for him to return. Back at the Azure Cloud Sword Sect, her life had consisted of only two things—cultivating and going on missions, cultivating and going on missions. It was an endless, repetitive cycle, like a road with no end. Her master would occasionally check on her progress. When she answered, he would show a satisfied expression before hardening his face, solemnly warning her not to grow arrogant, and then offering a few words of encouragement—saying she had the hope of ascending to immortality and restoring the glory of the Azure Cloud Sword Sect. She would listen, nod, and return to her cultivation.
Now, all of her cultivation was gone. Did that mean all those previous years had been completely meaningless? It seemed the only days of her life that she could actually “remember,” days that weren't consumed by cultivation, were these past two weeks or so. Even though the beginning hadn't been great—being picked up from a ruined temple, covered in wounds and half-dead—the ending probably wouldn't be much better either.
But perhaps heaven had heard her wish, allowing her to experience the life of a mortal before she died and granting her wish of not cultivating in her next life ahead of time. In that case, she hoped there wouldn't even be a next life. She stared intently at Lu Yan's face, carving his features into her mind bit by bit. She had never learned how to paint, so she couldn't draw him; she could only commit him to memory. His eyebrows, his eyes, the bridge of his nose, and the black silk ribbon he always wore wrapped around his head. She thought that if she could truly protect someone after she died, she would definitely protect him. After all, besides her master, he was the only person who had ever been good to her. She memorized his face, storing away as much as she could. As she thought about this, the awkward curve of her mouth gradually softened. The forced smile relaxed slightly, the corners of her eyes crinkled a bit, and it became a very natural smile. If her eyes hadn't been brimming with tears, one might have truly believed she was happy.
Hong Jiu saw that things were going south. How did a simple conversation end up bringing someone to tears? She quickly sent a transmission to Yao Wu, keeping her voice incredibly low and soft, pitched so only the two of them could hear: “What did you mean by that just now? You've practically driven her to tears!”
Yao Wu didn't reply to the transmission. He looked at the two of them—one silent, the other forcing a smile. She talked about leaving, yet her eyes were filled with tears. Suddenly, he raised his hand and slapped himself across the face. The slap wasn't loud, but in the quiet room, it sounded incredibly crisp.
“I didn't mean it like that,” he said, his voice tight. “I wasn't trying to chase this senior away. I—”
“My cultivation was destroyed long ago,” Jiang Ci interrupted him, her voice quiet but crystal clear. “I am no senior.”
Yao Wu opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but swallowed his words. He really hadn't meant it that way. He had only wanted to warn Lu Yan about how to deal with this massive trouble. How had it turned into this? He clenched his fists, then released them, realizing he had no idea what to say. He knew how to refine elixirs, how to curse, and how to slack off during night shifts. But comforting people? He had no clue. He turned to look at Hong Jiu. Hong Jiu avoided his gaze, keeping her head down and staring at the tips of her shoes.
The room fell silent again. It wasn't the sudden, heavy silence from before, but the kind of quiet where everyone wanted to say something but had no idea where to start. The stove fire had died out, but the candle was still burning, wax dripping down drop by drop and solidifying on the candlestick. The four of them were lost in their own thoughts, none of them speaking. Their unspoken thoughts drifted through the room, never quite meeting.
Outside the Mountains
About forty miles north of the city wall, beneath an abandoned beacon tower, a faint blue light crept along the stone crevices like veins, casting a cold aura over the entire structure. The Ice Spirit Cult had been camped here for at least three days, completely undetected.
Inside the main tent, there were no candles. The only illumination came from several ice crystals floating in midair. The light was cold, casting a frost-like pale glow on everyone's faces. Seven or eight people knelt on the animal skins covering the ground. Leading them was a slender woman with loose white hair. A thin layer of frost covered her face, making it impossible to tell her age. Her eyes were a very pale grayish-blue, resembling a frozen lake. She wore no armor, only a white robe that trailed on the ground, its cuffs embroidered with intricate silver patterns. She was the Right Protector of the Ice Spirit Cult, Shuangyu. Seated below her was a withered old man wrapped in a black cloak, leaning on a bone staff. Embedded in the head of the staff was a grayish-white bead that occasionally pulsed with light, like a beating heart. He was the Left Protector, Guhan, who had started as a ghost cultivator. He was an old enemy of the Formation Sect, but ghost cultivators possessed incredibly resilient life force; they had failed to kill him countless times.
“The array map of Black Mountain Fort,” Shuangyu said. Her voice wasn't heavy, sounding like the crisp crack of splitting ice. It carried a bone-chilling cold and a trace of raspy divinity.
A dark figure slipped into the tent from outside, kneeling on the ground and holding up a roll of beast hide with both hands. Guhan tapped his bone staff against the ground, and the beast hide floated up, unfurling in midair. Intricate array lines covered it, depicting the entirety of Black Mountain Fort—the city walls, gates, hidden outposts, and patrol routes were all clearly marked. Shuangyu glanced at it but remained silent. Guhan spoke first, his voice sounding like sandpaper rubbing against iron. “Who drew this?”
“A disciple undercover in Beizhou City,” the kneeling figure replied. “It took over half a year to draw, and it was only sent out a few days ago.”
Guhan asked no further questions.
Shuangyu pondered for a moment. “How many garrison troops are inside Black Mountain Fort?”
The dark figure responsible for intelligence replied, “There are two permanent garrison battalions, about three hundred men. Including the city guards and temporarily conscripted laborers, there are no more than six hundred. Among them, there are fewer than thirty cultivators, mostly loose cultivators, with no combatants above the Nascent Soul realm.” He paused. “However... someone recently spotted people from the Abandoned Guest Hall in Black Mountain Fort.”
The tent fell silent for a brief moment. The Abandoned Guest Hall. Shuangyu knew the name, and so did Guhan. They weren't exactly enemies, but they weren't friends either; when they weren't accepting bounties, they were just a pack of rats hiding in the black market. However, if they did cross paths, things would likely be unpleasant. After all, they were considered “traitors” to humanity.
“Which number?” Guhan asked.
“Unsure. Our disciples didn't dare get too close for fear of being discovered.”
Shuangyu tapped her fingers lightly on the table. “Put the Abandoned Guest Hall aside for now. The time of the raid remains unchanged.” She looked at the others kneeling in the tent. “All units prepare to strike the night after tomorrow. First break the arrays, then breach the city. Once inside, do not get bogged down in combat. Head straight for the warehouses and teleportation arrays. Take what can be carried away, and destroy what cannot.” No one answered; everyone simply listened. Shuangyu stood up, her white robe gliding silently over the animal skins. “The damnable Central Continent Alliance broke their word. After secretly signing an agreement, they still sent their Sword Heir to slaughter our Heavenly Dao Emissaries. Now is the time to make them pay in blood!”
Everyone present raised their arms and shouted, “Blood for blood! Blood for blood!”
Shuangyu nodded in satisfaction. Guhan stood up, leaning on his bone staff, the grayish-white bead flashing once. “Leave those two garrison battalions to me.” Shuangyu glanced at him but didn't reply. A ghost cultivator's methods weren't suited for an open battlefield, but a surprise attack was different. He could do more alone than an entire battalion. She withdrew her gaze and waved her hand, signaling everyone to dismiss. Only she and Guhan remained in the tent, the cold light of the ice crystals reflecting on their faces.
“That person from the Abandoned Guest Hall,” Guhan said. “How should we handle them?”
“Just kill him.”
“But what if—” Guhan paused. “What if he is Number Eleven?”
Shuangyu fell silent for a moment. “Do not kill him. Capture him alive.” Guhan leaned on his staff and asked no further questions. The Central Continent Alliance wasn't the only one coveting the heritage of the Formation Sect.
Unfortunately, they had not expected that people from the Central Continent Alliance had also arrived.
Rate on N.U.
