"Ye Ming is dead?"
Under the glazed lamplight, the tall woman’s eyes grew shadowed at the corners.
The grand and towering statue of the dicine Buddha sat cross-legged on a lotus throne. Beneath his coiled hair, there was no visible face. His entire figure, shrouded in a dim golden radiance, floated between light and shadow, while the halo of flas behind him remained enveloped in darkness.
Qin Qingluo sat on the ditation mat, her wide palm and slender fingers lightly brushing the tip of the spear.
On the dark purple shaft of the spear, a streak of thick thunderbolt was clearly missing.
"Ye Ming is truly dead?"
The red-robed woman nearby looked horrified, as though she had never envisioned such an outco.
The forr Prince of Annan had selected orphaned children from the Jianghu in secret, training them to be shadow assassins. Using the Divine Sect’s teachings, he forged their unwavering loyalty. Among them, Ye Ming was the one in a million.
This woman, who lacked any striking beauty, had slain hundreds—if not thousands. She was also a martial artist of the Fourth Rank under the age of thirty. In any moderately sized sect, such a talent would be cultivated as the successor to the Sect Leader.
The red-robed woman asked almost dazedly:
"And what of that Chen Yi... is he still alive?"
Three-on-one, two Fourth Ranks and one Fifth Rank. Even Ye Ming had perished—could they really fail to kill a forr West Factory Thousand Households officer?
How could that demoness possibly give rise to such a monstrous figure?!
Qin Qingluo tapped the spear tip lightly, then turned her gaze toward the bowl of water in front of her, remaining silent for a long ti.
Finally, after a lengthy pause, she said:
"He’s not dead. And sohow... he’s broken into the Fourth Rank."
The red-robed woman instantly felt as though the ground beneath her was giving way.
This was a person?
To fight three at once, with two of the combatants in the sa Fourth Rank as him—how could he survive, even if it ant mutual destruction or exchanging life for life?
Such a display, even with the montum of just having ascended into Fourth Rank, was still far too astonishing!
It’s often said that evil is repaid in kind. He defiled the Saintess, rescued the demoness, and slaughtered countless followers of the Holy Sect. For all his heinous cris, not even this three-person ambush was enough to bring him down. Was this man truly the incarnation of the Resentnt Demon Master?
A shiver rippled through her as the thought passed by, leaving the red-robed woman trembling uncontrollably.
The Prince of Annan seed to notice the Princess’s unease, pressing his fingertip lightly against the spearhead.
The stab of pain reached his finger, and at the sa ti, the red-robed woman flinched. She, too, felt the sting at her fingertips.
The woman surnad Zhu snapped out of her trance and imdiately began chanting the Sacred Scripture of the Divine Sect.
Qin Qingluo stared ahead without blinking. The dicine Buddha’s massive shadow lood over her. A mont later, she continued:
"One ’Ye Ming’ has fallen. The Prince Mansion doesn’t lack for ’Ye Mings’ or blades."
"Aunt Zhu, once I’ve absorbed this inch of glazed radiance and mastered the words inscribed on the vestnt robe, I too will enter the Fourth Rank."
The red-robed woman’s expression reflected only worry.
Anticipating this, Qin Qingluo calmly added:
"Would I speak so lightly if I weren’t certain?"
The woman surnad Zhu’s eyes lit up.
They had been husband and wife for many years. How could she not know how confident Qin Qingluo had to be when making such a statent? It was only her earlier panic that had clouded her judgnt.
Qin Qingluo had lingered at the bottleneck of the Fourth Rank for a long ti, amassing strength for a breakthrough—this was the first victory.
With his mastery of the Zhu family’s spear techniques, the Prince of Annan was a recognized heir to the ancient legacy of Zhu. This had granted him the Purple Lightning Spear—a second victory.
An inch of glazed radiance promised eternal life, freedom from calamity—a third victory.
The vestnt robe blessed by the Wuxiang Zen Master was as good as inheriting the heart teachings from the long-lost Bodhisattva Sword—a fourth victory.
Thinking of all this, the red-robed woman found her thoughts settling. In a soft voice, she said:
"Qingluo, I’ll put my faith in my husband’s niece this ti."
Qin Qingluo smiled faintly, raising her head to see the golden bowl held within the dicine Buddha statue. A mass of layered, luminous Buddhist light slowly descended.
She left behind one weighty sentence:
"Princess, be at ease. Solitude will walk this path for you."
The red-robed woman said tenderly:
"Then let us walk it together, as husband and wife."
...............
When the blade fell, there were two corpses and an arm, all dripping with fresh blood.
Chen Yi looked at where Zhang Xuqu had once stood. On the ground lay a golden cicada husk.
Golden Cicada Shedding.
This was a secret Daoist technique. Only those who had reached the Nascent Soul Realm could perform it. Its principle lay in refining the physical body into a dharma body, allowing the soul to bear the injuries incurred by the dharma body.
Whatever magic treasure Zhang Xuqu had hidden, it allowed him to deploy this Golden Cicada Shedding technique.
However, the technique was ultimately one of harm transference. It shifted part of the physical body’s damage to the soul, rather than providing true invincibility. The Tongbei Divine Ape had sustained severe injuries regardless.
Chen Yi did not wipe the blood from his blade. He quickly walked toward the white-robed female crown who lay collapsed on the ground. Yin Tingxue was beside her, caring for her and following her instructions to administer a pill and press a talisman onto her.
Hurried footsteps echoed from outside as Dong Gong Ruoshu burst in, carrying the Yanling Saber.
Chen Yi’s pace had been far too fast. He had arrived with Yin Tingxue on his back, leaving Dong Gong Ruoshu desperately trying to catch up. She had only just arrived.
The mont she entered and saw the corpses on the ground, she could roughly guess what had transpired. Her heart surged with shock.
One against three, with two enemies at the Fourth Rank.
If this battle hadn’t taken place within the Buddha Tower but out in the Jianghu, word of his prowess as a West Factory Thousand Households would have resounded across half the Jianghu.
For a long while, Dong Gong Ruoshu stood frozen. Spotting the female crown collapsed on the ground, she found herself at a loss—rushing forward felt awkward, holding back felt wrong.
Her role in this ambush had been uncomfortably awkward.
Chen Yi rely nodded at her, then took the female crown from Yin Tingxue’s hands, his hand gently supporting her delicate back.
Wiping the blood from her lips, he said softly:
"I’m sorry I was late."
Yin Weiyin was montarily dazed.
This was the first ti he had ever spoken to her so gently.
She wasn’t used to it. Usually, whether in bed or out of it, wasn’t he always tornting her, humiliating her?
Yin Weiyin’s thoughts tangled in a ss. After a mont, she neither thanked him nor put on a cold face but instead said:
"I thought you wouldn’t save ..."
Her words were as faint as a mosquito’s hum.
"Did you really think I didn’t care for you at all?"
Chen Yi held her close, smiling as he spoke.
Yin Weiyin stared at him, her emotions swirling—a mixture of fear and sothing like gratitude. Her trembling body gave no clear answer to what she felt.
She only knew she still feared him, though tears welled up in her eyes.
The female crown stayed silent, gazing blankly at the Buddha mural in the ditation hall. The emaciated figure of Siddhartha Gautama remained unchanged. From the distance, the cowherd girl approached, and she couldn’t help but wonder—is this when Siddhartha Gautama still believed he was destined to achieve enlightennt?
Yin Weiyin did not know.
She simply stayed quiet in his embrace for a long, long ti.
"I’ll never forget you for the rest of my life," she muttered quietly.
Chen Yi held her gently, replying:
"Mm. After all of this, I’ll avenge you—avenge the both of us."
Yin Weiyin glanced at him, her head unconsciously leaning into the crook of his arm. When she realized it, she raised her head ever so slightly again.
How could Chen Yi not notice her small gesture? Without protest, he wrapped his arm securely around her neck, pulling her even closer. As she lay in his arms, the female crown thought absentmindedly: this was his insistence, not hers. She had no choice in the matter.
Yin Tingxue glanced at the Princess and then at Chen Yi. Sister Weiyin now lay so ekly, so softly in Chen Yi’s arms, like a helpless daughter. Chen Yi, on the other hand, seed unusually tender in monts like this. The little fox found herself inexplicably reminded of when she had fought for their mother’s embrace as a child.
A vague sense of bitterness rose in her heart.
With nowhere else to place her hands, she could only hold her small face.
Was she... perhaps being a little redundant?
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