Yan Qingqing burst past the expanse blanketed by the seven traces of light, intent on taking down Li Weiyi without delay. Her three-foot flexible sword slashed through the air, its arcs winding along an elusive, bewitching path that bristled with bizarre, unavoidable killing intent.
Li Weiyi knew she had opened seven springs. How could he dare meet such a strike head-on?
Retreating at top speed, he reached into his robes for the vial of Golden Crow blood.
Having seized the upper hand with a single thrust, Yan Qingqing pressed her advantage, refusing to give him any opening to retaliate.
Whoosh!
Before Li Weiyi could pour the Golden Crow blood onto his scripture belt, a sky full of sword shadows descended upon him, his ears filled with shrill whistling. Every glint of a sword tip seemed real, threatening to riddle him with bloody holes like a sieve.
Without a second thought, he turned and fled.
A piercing ray of sword qi sharp enough to impale a man struck his back with a dull thud. Yet, blocked by the ghost banner draped across his shoulders and the corpse-garment soft armor worn beneath his robes, it left him unharmed.
"You think you can run?"
Yan Qingqing knew he possessed defensive dharma artifacts. Envy and hatred flared within her as she gripped her blade and gave chase.
Li Weiyi alternated between the Qingxu Cicada-Chasing Step of the Chan Sect's Twelve Loose Hands—his figure shifting like a phantom, his footprints overlapping—and Yellow Dragon Ascends to Heaven, soaring through the air to leap over the hillocks of piled coffins as though traversing flat ground.
Even without relying on the scripture belt, his speed was entirely on par with Yan Qingqing, who had opened seven springs.
"I've killed one and tied down another; that should already count as going above and beyond my duty, shouldn't it? If Li Ling can quickly subdue that donkey-faced man, we'll have a chance to eliminate every hidden danger today."
Li Weiyi now had a clear sense of his own capabilities. At the very least, in terms of speed, he had no reason to fear a so-called peak Gushing Spring realm dharma-martial cultivator like Yan Qingqing.
"Awoo!"
A deep, muffled wolf howl shattered the silence, echoing across the sea of coffins with enough force to scatter the surrounding night fog.
Boom! Boom! Boom...
Heavy, swift footsteps thundered closer from the distance.
Li Weiyi glanced back and saw a white-furred wolf king, five to six meters long, sprinting frantically toward them in pursuit of Li Ling.
The wolf king's form was half-ethereal and half-solid. The chill radiating from its body instantly coated the floating coffins beneath its paws in a layer of white frost. Fang Tong stood tall upon its back, his hands encased in thick, black metal gauntlets.
Weighing a hundred jin, the gauntlets were heavy dharma-martial armaments forged from an exceedingly rare, ultra-dense metal.
Li Weiyi immediately retrieved the Golden Crow blood and poured it onto his scripture belt.
Yan Qingqing had already abandoned her pursuit of him, turning to strike at the fleeing Li Ling instead. She wanted to see whether that mysterious man would keep running or turn back to the rescue.
In an instant, Li Ling found herself trapped in dire straits, flanked by a hound before her and a wolf behind. Yet her expression remained utterly composed as she struck a palm against the thrust of Yan Qingqing's flexible sword.
The gust of her palm carried dharmic power like a wall of air, setting the flexible blade violently quivering.
Yan Qingqing stumbled back repeatedly, her eyes filled with disbelief. She had never expected to lose in the martial realm to a Nether Lamp Wayfinder of the Spiritual God path.
"Roar!"
The Snow Wolf King overtook them, sweeping out a razor-sharp, massive claw to swat Li Ling's body into paste.
Bang!
Li Ling met the blow with her palm, but she was hopelessly outmatched. Her body was hurled sideways, her entire arm dripping with blood. Before she could find her footing, Fang Tong leaped down from the wolf's back, driving a fist straight for her head.
Li Ling barely rolled out of the way in disarray when Yan Qingqing closed in with her sword to pin her in a pincer attack.
Clang!
A flash of yellow light erupted as two swords collided.
The flexible blade went limp, deflected away from Li Ling's chest.
Li Weiyi stood back-to-back with her, blade in hand, scanning the enemies encircling them on three sides.
"Your character is far better than I expected. You actually didn't leave me behind. Dependable!" Li Ling's face and eyes remained icy, but the corners of her lips curved up faintly.
"I simply understand one truth: if we don't slay that hound-mutant woman today, running away won't do any good."
That single clash of blades had shown Li Weiyi that a dharma-martial cultivator with seven opened springs was not so terrifying after all.
The combat strength of mutants was only so-so.
Li Ling said, "Be careful. Legends say the Snow Wolf King is Shi Jiuzhai's mount, possessing strength and speed far beyond what we can match. But it has a fatal weakness: it is not a real wolf, but the spirit of a dharma artifact. I can counter it with my mental power, but I need time to trace a beast rune."
Li Weiyi looked toward Fang Tong and Yan Qingqing. Taking on both at once, he did not have even half a shred of confidence.
Then, catching everyone off guard—including Li Ling herself—Li Weiyi hoisted her onto his back, wrapped his arms firmly around her legs, and executed the Qingxu Cicada-Chasing Step. Shifting like a phantom, he slipped past Yan Qingqing's incoming thrust and dashed into the distance.
With the scripture belt's empowerment, his speed far outstripped that of a seven-spring dharma-martial cultivator.
"This time, you were the one who chose to carry me. For an unmarried maiden like me to be so intimate with you... if word ever got out..."
Before Li Ling could finish, Li Weiyi cut in, "The Snow Wolf King is catching up! How long will it take you to trace that beast rune?"
The point of light between Li Ling's brows flickered like a star. The moment Li Weiyi had taken her onto his back, she had already begun using her mental power to delineate the beast rune within the spiritual domain of her Yintang point.
Fang Tong and Yan Qingqing both stood upon the Snow Wolf King's back, rapidly closing the distance to the pair ahead.
"Don't let her finish that beast rune!"
In the next instant, Fang Tong seized Yan Qingqing's left wrist, channeled his dharmic power through his arm, and hurled her forward with all his might.
Soaring through midair, Yan Qingqing's long hair fluttered wildly as her dharmic power poured from her body like mist.
Her flexible sword transformed into a wind-cleaving arrow, plunging straight down toward Li Ling.
"Lend me your sword!"
Li Ling took the Yellow Dragon Sword from Li Weiyi's grip, leaping into the air like a graceful, startled swan to meet the descending Yan Qingqing. Midair, the two women traded blow after blow, sword qi crisscrossing in all directions.
Slash! Slash! Slash...
By the time Li Ling touched the ground, the Yellow Dragon Sword was slick with blood.
When Yan Qingqing crashed down, four or five bloody holes pierced her torso. And awaiting her was Li Weiyi's Heaven-Overturning Palm Print, long prepared.
Infused with the might of the silver-thread gloves, the palm strike landed with a flash of silver against her skull.
With a loud crack, bones shattered in succession.
Yan Qingqing's alluring face instantly warped and twisted. Her entire head resembled a shattered clay jar, not only bleeding from every orifice, but with the features themselves blurred beyond recognition.
She collapsed stiffly to the ground, all breath gone.
On the other side, the Snow Wolf King charged in an instant, carrying an icy gale and blazing with brilliant white light. By then, the beast rune within Li Ling's Yintang spiritual domain was complete, flying forth from between her brows.
"Die!"
Amid the blinding white light, Fang Tong burst forward like a god of slaughter. By the time Li Ling raised her sword to meet him, it was already too late.
A heavy punch struck her like a cannonball, sending her flying through the air like a stalk of wheat. Blood spurted from her lips, and she could no longer stand.
At the same moment, the beast rune struck the Snow Wolf King right between the eyes.
The beast unleashed a shrill, agonizing howl. Its body shrank as its light and frost collapsed inward, condensing into a single wolf tooth that clattered onto the ground.
The sea of coffins fell still!
Only Li Weiyi and Fang Tong remained, standing forty feet apart.
Cold, menacing light filled both of their eyes, their auras locked upon each other.
Not far away, Yan Qingqing was thoroughly dead. Li Ling lay with her clothes soaked in crimson, her fate unknown.
Regardless of her flaws, she was now an ally who had shared life and death with him. Seeing her wounded so severely, Li Weiyi's fighting spirit and murderous intent surged furiously.
Without a word, Fang Tong stepped forward at an easy pace, then broke into a sprint.
Li Weiyi had no intention of engaging him in martial combat. He produced the evil camel bell, channeled dharmic power into it, and gave it a violent shake.
Clang! Clang!
The chimes swelled deafeningly.
Whoosh!
The evil camel bell flew forth, transforming into a colossal, semi-translucent camel that slammed headlong into the charging Fang Tong.
Fang Tong had never dreamed his opponent wielded such a formidable dharma artifact. With his mind already disoriented by the ringing bell, he had no time to react before the camel struck, hurling him high into the air as though every bone in his body had shattered.
The next instant, thunder boomed.
Li Weiyi unleashed a wrist-thick bolt of blinding lightning from the black iron seal, which snaked through the air and pierced straight through Fang Tong's chest.
Thud!
By the time Fang Tong hit the ground, his body was charred black, a bowl-sized bloody cavity gaping in his chest. Even in death, he could not comprehend how he had been defeated.
Li Weiyi walked over to confirm Fang Tong was truly dead, then went to check on Li Ling.
She was gravely injured, but still breathing.
After thoroughly searching the corpses of Fang Tong, Yan Qingqing, and Xing Wanxing to strip them of their valuables, he kicked all three bodies into the Blood Sea.
Then, lifting the blood-soaked Li Ling into his arms, Li Weiyi turned back.
***
Five days later, when Li Ling finally awoke, she was aboard a ship bound for Jiuli City.
The vessel was a massive passenger sailboat over two hundred feet long, sailing upriver along the Sui River from Yao Pass. A three-story deckhouse rose above the deck, housing over a hundred cabins.
Li Ling lay upon a bed in a spacious cabin on the deckhouse's first floor, dressed in white silk undergarments. Her chest and abdomen were wrapped in gauze, having already received treatment from a shaman-doctor in Yao Pass.
The elderly matron attending her bedside had been hired by Zhao Zhizhuo in Yao Pass.
Learning that the Fourth Young Mistress had awakened, Zhao Zhizhuo hurried over to pay his respects, entering the cabin only after receiving permission. He then recounted how Brother Xie Jin had brought her to Yao Pass, how they had sought out a Shouli shaman-doctor for treatment, and how the group was currently en route to Jiuli City, due to arrive first at the Cangling Tribe.
Li Ling sat half-propped on the bed beneath a thin, cool quilt, her long hair cascading naturally over her shoulders. Gazing through the doorway at the vast expanse of the river and the faint silhouettes of distant mountains, she carried a serene, frail, and aloof beauty. She spoke softly: "Zhao Zhizhuo, forty years ago at the Mount Mang Grand Sacrifice, you ranked first among the Ninety-Nine Paragons. You stepped into the Wuhai Realm at twenty-three, and opened all five seas at forty-one. That was also the year Yao Qian of the Sui Sect shattered your nine springs and broke your five seas. The 'Modest Gentleman' Yao Qian must now be an illustrious figure recorded in the Jiazi Register, isn't he?"
Zhao Zhizhuo looked bitter and guilty at first, followed by disbelief that the Fourth Young Mistress, at her age, could remember the history of a ruined man so clearly. A wave of profound gratitude welled within him.
For someone who had once known glory only to be ignored for decades, such regard struck deeper than any praise or accolade.
Ashamed, he said, "I was merely the first among the Ninety-Nine Paragons, never having entered the ranks of the Nine Elites. The Fourth Young Mistress is too kind to remember!"
"Every person who has contributed to the Cangling Tribe will be remembered by us."
Pausing, Li Ling asked, "Are they on the ship as well?"
"Does the Fourth Young Mistress mean Brother Xie and his companions?" Zhao Zhizhuo replied. "They are heading to Jiuli City, so it was directly on their way."
Li Ling said, "He didn't tell you his real name? Never mind, it doesn't matter."
Zhao Zhizhuo gave a slight start before saying, "Shall I go tell Brother Xie that you've awakened? He seemed quite concerned about your injuries, Fourth Young Mistress."
Li Ling said, "Go on, then."
As he reached the cabin door, Zhao Zhizhuo recalled something, turned back, bowed, and asked, "We will reach the Cangling Tribe by this evening. Shall we disembark and return to the tribe, or proceed to Jiuli City?"
"My brother has surely already gone to the Jiuli Dao Academy, and my parents are managing the clan's businesses in Jiuli City. There is no need to return to the tribe for now," Li Ling said.
Chapter 43