Blood energy surged wildly through the basement, causing Luo Yang’s mental power to fluctuate under the pressure. His grip on the hilt tightened further as he calculated whether to stall the man in front of him or rush downstairs to check on her. But before he could decide, the man across from him moved first.
“Hmm...”
He let out a long, drawn-out hum from the back of his throat.
“This scent... could it be the Crimson Abyss?”
He pushed the brim of his hat up slightly, revealing eyes that seemed to have no depth.
“My, the Qiu family truly has some skill, being able to get their hands on even this divine flower.”
He tilted his head toward the basement door and sniffed the air again.
“Not bad at all. It is a fitting match for Miss Qiu.”
With that, he started walking toward the basement door. His steps were natural, as if he were simply going into his own kitchen to get a glass of water.
“Stop right there.”
Luo Yang moved to block him, standing squarely in front of the door.
Night Owl-Slash was pressed against his outer thigh, its blade partially drawn from the scabbard, reflecting the cold gleam of the overhead lights.
Si Zhen stopped less than two steps away. His eyes met Luo Yang’s, his gaze shifting slightly.
“Miss Qiu is in the middle of a breakthrough, isn’t she? I believe I should go and give her a hand.”
Si Zhen pulled his hand out of his pocket and made a vague gesture toward the door.
“Give her a hand?”
“With the secret arts I possess, her journey could be much smoother. The Crimson Abyss is no hothouse flower; it is a very volatile and temperamental little thing.”
He paused, his tone taking on a hint of concern.
“I wouldn’t want Miss Qiu to falter at such a critical juncture.”
“No.” Luo Yang’s response was absolute. The word dropped like a heavy stone.
“You won’t let me pass, sir?”
Si Zhen let out an “Oh” and tilted his head to the side, as if he had heard something quite novel.
“Sir, I can see that you value Miss Qiu very highly.”
“However, I also have things I must do. If you insist on standing in my way, then I’m afraid we’ll have to exchange a few pointers in this room.”
Before the final syllable had even left his lips, the air in the living room turned frigid.
Blood energy spread out from beneath Si Zhen’s feet, pushing outward inch by inch along the patterns of the floorboards. A mask emerged from within his body, carrying an indescribable eeriness.
The mask covered the left half of his face, its surface shimmering with a faint light. Black and white patterns crisscrossed over it, seemingly chaotic yet not at all discordant.
Si Zhen was already quite refined in appearance, but with half of his face covered, the remaining half appeared even paler. The corner of his visible eye drooped slightly while his lips curled upward, suddenly giving his face a bewitching, demonic quality that made one hesitate to look directly at him.
Luo Yang’s right hand moved back, drawing Night Owl-Slash completely from its sheath.
His mental power tunneled through his knuckles into his space ring; Weapon’s End, Ember’s Birth was ready to be unleashed.
If Si Zhen took even half a step forward, he would immediately deploy every means at his disposal.
Si Zhen stood perfectly still. The eye behind the mask stared at Luo Yang, while the other eye crinkled into a smile.
“Your reactions are truly swift, sir.”
He offered a word of praise. There was no detectable hostility in his tone, yet the coldness pressing down on the living room was so intense that even the hum of the refrigerator’s compressor dropped a pitch.
Luo Yang didn't respond.
He only needed to stall for a moment. If he caused enough of a commotion, Yan Ya would react immediately.
But just as the two were at a breaking point, the blood energy from the basement suddenly surged upward.
Crimson light seeped through the cracks of the basement door—first a thin line, then a broad sheet, until the entire house looked as if a lamp had been lit from beneath, every window glowing a deep red.
The smile froze on Si Zhen’s face. He glanced toward the basement door, and in that instant, the door was pushed open from the inside.
Bloodfall flickered into existence beside Luo Yang, its tip pointing diagonally toward the floor. The original layer of plain white on the blade had mostly vanished, replaced by a faint gold from hilt to tip. Several dark red lines had appeared on both sides of the blade, outlining the shape of petals. Arranged one by one, they looked as if someone had planted half a spider lily onto the sword.
A blinding light erupted from the tip of the blade, forcing both Luo Yang and Si Zhen to close their eyes and turn away. In the span of a breath, wisps of fragrance drifted into Luo Yang’s nose, and Qiu Shubai’s figure appeared behind Bloodfall.
Her face was unnaturally pale, and her gray-white hair fluttered despite the lack of wind. Her right hand was gripped tightly around the transformed hilt of Bloodfall, the edge of the blade pointed directly at the center of Si Zhen’s brow.
Luo Yang glanced at her and nearly lost his grip on his own blade out of shock.
In the center of her right pupil, a flower was actually rotating slowly!
The petals were a brilliant red, spinning at a sluggish pace as they radiated from the depths of her eye. It was a bewitching sight that stood its ground against Si Zhen’s presence, though while Si Zhen’s mask was static, her flower seemed like a living thing.
Her cold voice exploded in Si Zhen’s ears.
“I will not agree to anything you have to say.”
Si Zhen raised an eyebrow. “Miss Qiu...”
“Leave now, and I can act as if you were never here.”
The tip of Bloodfall moved forward half an inch.
“But if you insist on a fight—”
“Then I shall accompany you to the very end!”
The moment those words were struck, Luo Yang felt the air around him vibrate.
Si Zhen stared at Bloodfall for several seconds, then looked at her right eye. Immediately after, he did something Luo Yang hadn't expected.
He bowed to Qiu Shubai.
He bent his waist to a precise angle, his hand pressed against his side. His posture was even more formal than when he had first entered.
“I have been presumptuous today.”
He straightened up, the faint azure light on his half-mask flickering once.
“Miss Qiu is still regulating her breath. My intrusion at this time was indeed discourteous.”
He gave Luo Yang a nod as well. The angle was shallower than the one he gave Qiu Shubai, but the etiquette was observed.
“Until we meet again.”
Before his words had fully faded, the figure in the white shirt began to change. A transparent substance seeped inward from the edges of his skin until his entire body transformed into a pale blue shadow. It slid along the lines of the wall and vanished without a sound.
Luo Yang’s mental power followed for a few steps, but he lost the trail at the courtyard gate.
He didn't dare sheath his blade immediately. Night Owl-Slash remained held across his chest as his mental power swept through every corner of the house repeatedly until he was certain that Si Zhen’s aura had completely vanished from his perception.
Only then did he hear a very soft exhale from beside him.
The arm Qiu Shubai was using to hold Bloodfall was trembling slightly.
She raised her hand to retract the sword. The sword-light dissipated as Bloodfall turned into a streak of white-gold light and returned to her body.
She swayed on her feet. Luo Yang reached out to steady her, catching her by the outside of her elbow.
The moment his fingers touched her arm, his brow furrowed.
So cold.
Her skin was as cold as a corpse. It was so chilling that he instinctively tightened his grip, afraid that if he let go even a little, she would slip through his fingers.
“You...”
He was about to speak when he saw her right eye again.
The spider lily was still rotating. The red light in the center of her pupil pulsed rhythmically, as if a tiny heart were beating within her eye.
Luo Yang sent his mental power through his palm into her meridians to investigate, and what he found nearly made him lose his footing.
“You’ve reached Clear Heart Level 2?”
Even as the words left his mouth, he felt the question was redundant.
Qiu Shubai kept her eyes downcast, her breathing very slow. Her left hand still gripped her right wrist, as if she were afraid something terrible would happen if she let go.
It was a long while before she dared to look up. Her gaze traveled from Luo Yang’s hand on her arm, up his sleeve, past his shoulder, and finally came to rest on his face.
She looked at him with extraordinary intensity. The strange look in her eyes made the back of his neck break into a cold sweat.
“Luo Yang.”
“Yeah?”
She pursed her lips.
“Do you...”
When those final words came out, they carried a distinct tremor.
“Do you believe me?”
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