Tan Yin had been fighting with all her might to release the divine power that had been sealed inside her by the divine crystal. Although it was only the size of a sesame seed, swallowing it unknowingly had a much greater impact than if her entire body had been wrapped in divine crystal. The one who devised such a precise and deadly trap was clearly not a battle spirit or someone from the Fox Clan. In fact, she knew perfectly well who was behind it, and she had to admit once again that she didn’t fully understand the complexities of human nature.
Her impression of Han Nu had always been that of a gentle, sisterly figure. When Tai He had fallen into slumber, it was Han Nu who wept for him daily. But now, it was also Han Nu who had released divine powers, manipulating both the battle spirits and the Fox Clan into hunting down Yuan Zhong. Worse still, she was the one who had come up with the plan to slip a tiny divine crystal into the tea that Tan Yin drank.
Perhaps the sisterly Han Nu had never been her true self. What was Han Nu really like? Tan Yin had no idea.
But this was not the time to dwell on such thoughts. The protective barrier around the small building had been broken, and the death gate wasn’t fully summoned yet. It was likely too late now.
Tan Yin said nothing as she remained in Yuan Xiaozhong's arms, focusing all her energy on gathering her divine power. But she could hear the sound of the whips striking Yuan Zhong, and the fragrant blood splattered onto her face—it burned as though it were fire.
He’s going to die.
She couldn’t move. She had to focus and gather her power. Otherwise, he really would die. But how could she concentrate? Yuan Xiaozhong had already been mistaken for Yuan Zhong and had his left arm cut off. She knew that Yuan Zhong was next.
Don’t panic. Stay calm. Gather your strength.
Flashes of blades glittered, and somehow, Tan Yin found a surge of raw strength from within. She grabbed the last piece of golden-thread nanmu from her Qiankun Bag and hastily cut out a wooden automaton. She rushed forward and threw herself around Yuan Zhong, whose body was being consumed by cursed flames, holding him tightly in her arms.
Her divine power had not yet returned, and she couldn’t release her divine sense. All she could do was use her body to shield him from the battle spirits. The flames on his body burned her with searing pain, but she lowered her head to look at him. He had already passed out, a streak of blood staining his lips, his breathing weak.
Never in her life had she been so determined. She couldn’t let him die. It wasn’t for Tai He or his left hand. Ji Tan Yin simply wouldn’t let Yuan Zhong die. She couldn’t explain why, nor did she need to. This sudden, long-hidden obsession flared up more fiercely than her own restless soul wandering the mortal world. The burning pain in her divine sense could have been from this obsession—or perhaps from the cursed flames consuming him. She could no longer tell.
The wooden automaton she had carved wasn’t complete. Without her restored divine power, it couldn’t move. It was broken apart by the battle spirits in an instant. Then, several whips came crashing down on her without mercy. She heard the sound of her bones shattering again. But with the hands that had not yet been broken, she held on to him tightly, refusing to let go.
Blood spread across the ground. Yuan Xiaozhong’s terrified voice grew fainter, so faint she could no longer hear him. All that filled her ears was the sound of her own labored breathing, slow and deep.
A hand, burning with flames, touched her cheek. Tan Yin opened her eyes and found herself staring into Yuan Zhong’s beautiful, pitch-black eyes. He had woken up, and he looked furious. His eyes, round and gleaming, reflected her bloodied face. She had become a person covered in blood.
He seemed to be speaking—his lips were moving, his body too. He was trying to push her away.
You can't go out.
She stubbornly held on, refusing to let go. If he left, he would die. She wouldn’t let him die. No one could take him away.
Suddenly, her body grew heavy. She could feel her physical form separating from her divine sense, breaking down piece by piece. The divine crystal she had swallowed was gradually losing its hold.
Now!
Tan Yin’s eyes lit up with a clear, bright glow. Her divine sense struggled free from the crumbling body, leaping out from the top of her head.
No one could see her. The divine sense of a deity was an existence entirely separate from the mortal realm, like a ghost. To be seen by mortals or immortals, a deity would either need to descend in their true form, release their divinity, or—at the very least—possess a mortal body. Han Nu had likely used the latter method to communicate with the battle spirits and Tang Hua.
Tan Yin turned back and saw her mortal body lying in a bloody heap, limp and broken. Yuan Xiaozhong was screaming loudly, annoyingly so, only to be whipped into pieces by the battle spirits, his body collapsing like a puppet. Then the whips turned once more toward Yuan Zhong. It was clear now—the battle spirits were determined to kill him today.
Tan Yin felt a surge of anger. With a wave of her long sleeve, a burst of clear light radiated from her palm. It spread out, transforming into a dozen small flames that shot into the brows of the battle spirits, as well as those of Wanqiu and Lanshan. Instantly, they were all flung out of the cave, vanishing into the distance. Only the bloodstains and chaos on the floor remained as evidence of the danger that had just passed.
Suddenly remembering something, she floated outside the building and saw a figure in purple standing across the lake—Tang Hua. Before him was a wooden table with a fire censer and a water basin, and in his hand, he held a strand of Yuan Zhong’s black hair, bound with black thread, which he was placing into the fire censer. It was clearly the medium for the curse.
Tan Yin flicked a burst of clear light into Tang Hua’s brow, sending him flying out of the cave as well. Then she gently blew on the scene before her, and the strand of hair, the table, and everything on it turned to ashes.
None of this should have happened. It was her carelessness that had allowed Han Nu to orchestrate such terrible events.
Tan Yin looked back toward the small building, and a faint sadness crept into her heart.
With Yuan Zhong’s sharp mind, it wouldn’t take long for him to figure out the truth behind today’s events. He would finally understand that her approach, her following, and her protection were all because of his left hand.
The battle spirits’ repeated provocations, even the involvement of the Fox Clan, were likely tied to her presence.
Tan Yin wasn’t entirely ignorant of human emotions. She had once thought that Han Nu’s deep love for Tai He was driving her to recover his left hand. But after what had transpired today, she began to doubt Han Nu’s motives.
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