She never chose an epithet before; this one was chosen by him for her.
Zhu Yu, ant to imply "drenched by rain."
Choosing the epithet at the ti was rely an act of spite, intending to humiliate her, but... Yitang Zhu Yu still sounds pleasant.
Pressing his forehead briefly, Chen Yi let out a long, heavy breath.
The deeper he sank into this world, the more he preferred to treat it as a past life, rather than rely the first record. The mories involving Zhou Yitang grew heavier day by day.
Just as Chen Yi finally relaxed his brows, a slight tug ca from the hem of his clothes behind him. Turning his head, he saw Lin Wanxiao clutching the corner of his garnt.
"Uncle..."
She called softly.
"What is it?"
As the question fell, a warm fragrance wafted to his nose. Chen Yi opened his mouth slightly, only to see her dive straight into his arms.
Ah, so it was a beauty trap.
Lin Wanxiao’s cheeks flushed crimson as she lowered her voice and implored softly:
"The sisters all say... I, I have a asure of charm. So please... don’t let beco a widow..."
Chen Yi didn’t hesitate. He pulled her into an embrace, shalessly taking advantage, then laughed and said:
"Is that so..."
Lin Wanxiao’s brows were just about to arch upward.
"Then he’s as good as dead."
Chen Yi remarked calmly.
.........
Elsewhere.
Min Ning was gasping for breath in large gulps, her face sared with dust and mud.
"What is this place? Why are there so many monsters..."
She wiped the cold sweat off her forehead. Never mind the creature that drained the subterranean riverbed dry re monts ago—she’d nearly lost her life earlier.
There had been a three-headed black ox rampaging in the underground palace, followed by turning a corner only to encounter a nine-headed white tiger; hidden in the shadows, that Green Deng seed to have set its sights on her, lying in wait to strike.
"This must surely be so imperial tomb... could it be the one he ntioned belonging to the Tushan Clan?"
Min Ning thought as she gripped her bronze sword tighter,
"Where is he now?"
Before Min Ning could ponder further, a faint scent of awakening snakes crept into her nostrils. Her hair stood on end in an instant as she turned and swung her sword in reflex.
A flash of green light burst forth—Sword Qi spun from the bronze sword in a foot-long arc, its sharp aura suddenly slicing forward. Beneath the sword-light, a white python’s head erged, its massive body moving with uncanny swiftness like riding the wind, evading the sharp Sword Qi at the last mont.
Min Ning gritted her teeth and seized the chance as the creature sidestepped but hadn’t fully steadied itself upon landing. She lunged forward, driving the bronze sword directly into it.
The heavily rusted blade pierced through the snake’s resilient scales instantly. Sword Qi followed close behind, shredding flesh and spraying gore in all directions. The white python let out a blood-curdling screech of agony and retreated rapidly.
Just as Min Ning was about to press her advantage, she suddenly felt a change in the air behind her. Following her instincts, she spun around to strike, moving with her sword as blood sprayed lightly into the air. The massive black python yelped in pain, retreated again and again.
Facing attacks from both sides, Min Ning dared not linger. Realizing she couldn’t finish them off, she wounded both monstrous serpents before quickly darting through the corridor, weaving through several twists and turns.
After a good while, hearing no sound behind her, Min Ning finally stopped and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily as relief flooded her.
She lowered her gaze to the blood-stained bronze sword in her hand.
The Brocade Spring Blade hanging at her waist, though undistracted, could cut without blood and cleave through iron effortlessly. Yet, it was ultimately a mortal weapon; dealing with monsters still required Peach Wood Swords or magic artifacts like the Zen Staff.
As for this bronze sword, though it appeared unimpressive, it could contend with ghosts and monsters. Coupled with the faintly familiar Sword Intent emanating within, were it not for this weapon, she wouldn’t have survived this many tis.
"Does he have weapons like these? Or has he already t his end?"
Witnessing the dangers of the underground palace firsthand, Min Ning muttered to herself,
"If he just died like that... that would be too easy."
After confronting the perils here herself, she couldn’t help but worry about Chen Yi’s safety.
Even if he were fifth-grade with the red-gold Shariputra, the monsters in this underground palace were so ferocious that one careless move could lead him straight to death.
Thinking of such a possibility, sweat pooled in Min Ning’s palms.
"I must move faster."
Min Ning propped herself up and hurried forward.
In the dim, eerie underground palace, the scent of bronze rust lingered, accompanied by occasional chilling gusts of wind.
The further she advanced, the more unsettled Min Ning felt.
Has he perished? Has he just died like that?
Collapsed in this underground palace, his face twisted in terror monts before death, his body stained in blood—a scene enough to make one’s scalp tingle.
The hallway seed endlessly long. Every ti Min Ning turned another corner, she felt as if Chen Yi’s corpse might be waiting for her just around the next bend.
In the shadows, sothing hung down—like dense strands of hair.
Min Ning instinctively struck with her sword.
The human-faced bird-bodied Green Deng let out a grueso shriek, its feathers scattered to the ground by the attack. It soared abruptly into the air, with Sword Qi carving bloody marks on its body, while its sharp feathered blades spun in the wind and sliced toward her.
Min Ning shifted aside instantly, but her cheek smarted painfully. Blood pearled down, leaving a scar etched across her face, narrowly avoiding having her head sliced in two.
Gripping the bronze sword tightly, she seized the mont while the Green Deng hadn’t yet turned around and pierced its chest from behind.
Even after the Green Deng collapsed, Min Ning stabbed several tis more. Only when it fell completely silent did she finally let out a heavy exhale.
Stepping over blood one step at a ti, Min Ning remained fatigued but forced her nerves to stay taut.
Suddenly, her foot struck sothing.
Looking down, Min Ning nearly blacked out.
It was a broken Brocade Spring Blade! The blade was riddled with cracks, as if it had been worn down after countless battles, snapping apart at last. Min Ning felt her blood freeze.
"It’s his blade?!"
His blade breaking here... that ans he must already be...
Her mind blanked out almost completely. Ignoring everything else, her legs pushed her forward furiously.
Has he died? Perhaps he’s already dead?! Covered in wounds, dragging his weary body along the wall step by step, his hands useless, forced to discard the broken Brocade Spring Blade...
Chaotic thoughts leapt forward one after another. Min Ning turned corner after corner, her pace quickening with each step. The faster she moved, the hastier her worry grew; and as her anxiety mounted, her steps beca even faster. Live or dead, she needed to see for herself. She had to locate Chen Yi—he was decisive and ruthless in killing, and his targets were always evildoers. Ever since encountering him, she’d felt a sense of righteous adventure, no longer like a pawn sacrificing everything for the court, but more like a wandering swordsman of the Jianghu, blade to the east, sword to the west.
"Don’t you dare die, don’t you dare die."
Min Ning gritted her teeth, whispering furiously in her heart,
"I’m starting to accept you..."
Her cheek throbbed in pain as the wound split open. It was just a flesh wound. She endured it, hastily brushed the blood away without even applying dicine, and stord through the next turn.
Nearly half her face was already drenched in blood.
Suddenly, she heard approaching footsteps.
"Chen Yi, don’t you dare die..."
Min Ning spat the words out, turning and rushing forward,
"I’m starting to accept... you?!..."
Min Ning halted abruptly, only to see down the hallway ahead—a man in dark official robes strolling leisurely, followed by a dignified noblewoman, a woman in flowing attire, and what’s more—an elegant southern belle tucked in his arms.
Chen Yi cradled a delicate sweetheart, surrounded by chirping beauties, as though on a spring outing.
Min Ning froze in place,
Her cracked lips forced out six words,
"You son of a bitch, Chen Zunming!"
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