Chapter 228: Li—Boundless Love for Qingran
Mo Shui had originally planned to head straight for the secret realm’s exit.
But halfway there, she sensed Huikong’s revolting presence.
She knew both Huikong and the Jade Pool Saintess, Song Chiyue, were nothing but trouble.
Curious, she ca over for a look—and sure enough, Huikong was up to no good.
She hadn’t intended to interfere.
But when she saw the female cultivator Huikong had cornered, she found her oddly familiar. Hadn’t she seen this girl before in a mundane county town? Back then, she had been on a flying boat with the Sword Pavilion’s senior sister, Yue Qianchi.
Since she was from the Sword Pavilion, Mo Shui couldn’t just ignore this.
Back when the battle broke out at the sect ruins, the Sword Pavilion disciples had helped her conceal herself, giving her the chance to bide her ti. Without that opportunity, she wouldn’t have been able to seize the second volu of Great Sorrow Elegy.
That blade demon’s remains had been an absolute nightmare. Even after dragging them into the Blade Domain with Soul Abyss, she had barely managed to win. The backlash had nearly crippled her.
She had planned to take out Huikong while Soul Abyss was still unsheathed, then leave the secret realm to find a safe place to recover.
But now…
—
Half a quarter-hour later.
Mo Shui’s expression was grim as she stared at Huikong, who stood atop a lotus platform.
She had shattered his Arhat body—
Yet the monk still had more cards up his sleeve.
The lotus platform beneath him was a powerful defensive artifact.
It was nearly broken, but it had held up against her fierce attacks.
【Hmph! I told you not to ddle! Now the backlash is coming! Try not to die, will you?】
Before Soul Abyss finished speaking, searing pain erupted from every fiber of Mo Shui’s being.
It was a soul-deep agony, an overwhelming force that crushed her consciousness like an avalanche.
She let out a strangled sound, half a gasp, half a whimper.
Even biting through her tongue couldn’t stop her body from collapsing.
Her knees slamd into the ground.
The demonic blade scraped against the stone, its edge flashing cold light, barely supporting her trembling fra.
Huikong had been prepared to retreat.
This mysterious demon cultivator was strong—if he had been uninjured, he could have suppressed her.
But he was wounded, had burned through his trump cards, and had barely managed to fight her to a draw.
The lotus platform beneath him was his last line of defense.
If it broke, he’d have no choice but to flee.
And yet…
Sothing seed wrong with her?
He scanned her from head to toe, then smirked.
“Amitabha. Lady cultivator, it seems you’ve been consud by demonic backlash.”
He shook his head with mock sympathy.
“Such is the fate of those who practice demonic arts. Swift power, rapid advancent… but sooner or later, it takes your life. The demon sea is endless, but salvation is just one step away—co with to the Holy Land. Our Burning Purity sect has supre Buddhist techniques that can cleanse you of all filth.”
"You… shut up!"
Mo Shui gritted her teeth, struggling to stand.
But her bones felt as if they had been ground to dust.
Even moving a single finger was nearly impossible.
Her voice hoarse, she forced out a warning to the girl behind her.
"Run! What are you waiting for?!"
Li Qingran looked at Mo Shui, kneeling on the ground, unable to rise.
From her aura alone, she was undoubtedly a demon cultivator.
Li Qingran had no fondness for demon cultivators.
So, when Mo Shui fought Huikong, she hadn't intervened.
But she also hadn’t left.
She had simply watched—trying to understand this demon cultivator’s motives.
And now, even in crisis, the first thing Mo Shui did was urge her to escape…
Was it truly possible for a demon cultivator to be righteous?
Li Qingran didn’t know.
But she decided to trust her instincts.
Clang!
Su Xian was drawn.
Mo Shui saw a sharp sword light flash past her.
It was aid straight at Huikong.
"A ti will co when I ride the wind and break the waves, sailing my cloud-topped ship to cross the vast seas!"
Li Qingran murmured the verse as she struck.
Her sword moved like a dragon.
Where she passed, three misty water blossoms blood—
Like a fleeting illusion.
No ethereal swordsman toasting the moon, only a lone, frost-haired swordswoman standing poised.
With her single-sword spiritual root, she had previously been able to form only one mist image.
Now, she could create three.
She could shift between them at will.
"Good swordplay! Let’s see how you fare against my Vajra Demon-Subduing Palm!"
Huikong reached out—
But his hand closed on empty air.
The figure before him vanished into mist.
In an instant, she had returned to her original position, while the other two mirages transford into sword energy—
One left, one right, slicing toward him.
The attack was too fast.
So fast he had no ti to form a Vajra hand seal.
Crack!
Two sword marks split the lotus platform.
Already battered by Mo Shui’s earlier assault, the platform finally shattered.
With a sound like breaking jade, Huikong’s protective golden light collapsed.
And so did his heart.
"My artifact—!"
The lotus platform beneath his feet was now nothing more than shattered scraps.
Huikong could only watch, his eyes reddening with grief.
Yes, he was a sacred land’s Buddhist Child.
But his resources were earned, not granted.
The Burning Purity Patriarch was rciless—if anything displeased him, he would replace Huikong in an instant.
There were plenty of candidates vying for his position.
Glaring at the young swordswoman ten ters away, her sword aura towering,
Huikong clenched his fists.
His throat tensed—
Then he roared, like thunder:
"Wrath!"
A sonic blast erupted.
A massive 卍 symbol ford in mid-air, smashing toward Li Qingran.
This attack wasn’t ant to injure.
It was ant to cover his retreat.
His kasaya billowed as he leapt back a hundred ters.
Reaching into his robes, he grasped a communication talisman.
His Buddhist energy was down to twenty percent—
To be safe, he had to summon his three subordinates!
There was no longer any need to maintain his false saintly image.
What mattered now was securing his ‘resources.’
Huikong was fast.
But—
A sword was faster!
"Like white-feathered teors at my waist—"
"Like autumn lotus flowers blooming from the scabbard!"
Li Qingran’s wrist flicked.
Su Xian traced arcs of cold light.
The sword’s blade reflected two points of chilling starlight in her eyes.
Mo Shui’s pupils shrank.
She saw Su Xian tremble with a resounding hum—
And then it struck, leaving an arc like a waning moon.
In that instant, a phantom swordsman appeared behind Li Qingran.
His black robes billowed.
His long, pale hair whipped in the wind.
His wrist overlapped with the girl’s—
As if he were guiding her hand.
For a fleeting mont, a tempest of sword energy erupted.
The earth around them beca a lattice of crisscrossing sword marks.
Mo Shui’s throat went dry.
She prided herself on her blade skills.
But her technique was nothing compared to this girl’s sword intent.
What sword master’s legacy had she inherited?!
Huikong turned, forming a hand seal to block.
He managed to halt one strike—
But his montum was broken.
Still, he kept moving.
He fled toward the sect ruins, his figure swallowed by the lingering gray mist.
"Pity," Mo Shui murmured.
"If you were Golden Core stage, that bastard wouldn’t have stood a chance."
She shook her head, then forced herself into a ditative position, fighting through the pain.
If Huikong was calling reinforcents, she had to purge the Blade Domain’s demonic backlash first—
Even if it was nearly impossible.
"Golden Core, huh?"
Li Qingran’s grip on Su Xian tightened.
Her gaze locked onto Huikong’s retreating figure, mist curling around him.
Her eyes shone like frost at autumn’s end.
"Then… I'll just break through."
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