She pocketed the Sacred Flame Token and nodded toward Miao Feng. "Fine, I will leave the valley with you tomorrow to head to Kunlun."
"Thank you." Miao Feng's smile brightened with relief, but as soon as the weight lifted from his mind, the intense pain from his wound became unbearable. He let out a low groan, clutching his abdomen as he stumbled and fell to his knees. Blood slowly seeped through his fingers.
"Sigh," Xue Zi Ye sighed as she swiftly stepped forward and helped him up. "Just like Ming Jie—you both throw your lives away without a second thought."
Ming Jie? Miao Feng was slightly taken aback but then heard her murmuring softly to herself:
"This time, no matter what, I will get him out of there..."
* * *
Asura Field. The Dark Realm.
Screams echoed continuously, the dull sound of bones breaking and the frantic howls of those nearing death—these were the sounds coming from the Beast Realm next door. The new recruits of the Asura Field were undergoing their first brutal test of survival. In the Beast Realm, life was as worthless as grass. Out of five hundred children, eighty percent would die there, leaving fewer than one hundred to enter the Life and Death Realm for the next round of training.
And of those five hundred, less than fifty would make it through the Life and Death Realm.
This was the Asura Field—the highest level of the demonic cult’s training, beyond the Beast and Life and Death Realms. Only a few, after years of grueling practice, would survive to reach the Realm of Light, becoming elite killers of the Grand Palace of Light. Just like... him and Miao Feng.
In the deepest part of the darkness, a man dressed in black sat silently, eyes closed, not speaking.
The screams and cries seemed to pass through him, not affecting him in the slightest.
His focus was entirely inward, calming his mind, gathering all his strength between his brows, though his eyes remained shut. He had been meditating alone in the Dark Realm for two days, taking no food, saying no words.
The art of Tongshu (Eye Technique) demanded an immense amount of energy, and when dealing with someone as powerful as the cult leader, he could not afford the slightest mistake.
In truth, even three days of meditation might not be enough. After following the cult leader for over ten years, he deeply understood just how terrifying the man seated on the jade throne was.
But there was no time left. He had to strike before Miao Feng returned from Apothecary Valley. Even if Miao Feng didn’t discover that he had stolen the Dragon Blood Pearl, he would surely bring back the female healer to treat the cult leader. Once the cult leader’s condition improved, there would be no more chances.
However, at the thought of Apothecary Valley, an image suddenly flashed in his mind—dark eyes filled with both tenderness and sorrow. Ming Jie... Ming Jie...
In his trance, he heard a soft voice calling, and hands reached toward him.
"Get out!" He couldn’t bear those eyes staring at him any longer. "I am not Ming Jie!"
He snapped his eyes open, and the visions vanished.
"Young Master Tong," a voice called softly from outside. It was one of his trusted subordinates from the Asura Field. "The Eight Stallions have descended the mountain."
The Eight Stallions were the elite team of killers he had personally trained. Their skills surpassed even the Twelve Silver Wings. This time, he had sent all eight to ambush Miao Feng on his way back from Apothecary Valley. No matter how skilled Miao Feng was, he would not escape such a tight encirclement.
And besides, Miao Feng would likely have the healer from Apothecary Valley with him—a woman who didn’t know martial arts.
"If you can’t kill Miao Feng," Tong said coldly, his eyes closed again in the darkness, "then bring me the head of that female healer."
"Yes!" The subordinate responded and backed away silently.
Sitting in the deepest part of the dark, Tong closed his eyes once more, focusing his energy between his brows.
The golden needles embedded in the back of his head throbbed faintly with pain. Those dark, calm eyes reappeared, staring at him again... Ming Jie... Ming Jie... The voice echoed, far and near, igniting a series of illusions—fire, blood, frantic escape, and the looming darkness that threatened to swallow him whole...
Finally, unable to bear it, he slammed his fist into the cold stone floor, his body trembling slightly.
* * *
When Huo Zhan Bai woke up, the sun was already high in the sky.
Startled, he immediately sat up—he had slept for so long! Mo'er’s illness urgently required treatment back in Lin'an, and yet he had fallen into such a deep sleep!
Liu Feifei's maid, Yan Zhi Nu, entered with breakfast, placing the tray heavily on the table with a look of irritation. "Here, eat this and be on your way! I really don’t know what Miss sees in you. Coming and going as you please, with no money and no power, completely heartless and ungrateful, yet Miss always holds you dearest. It’s like she’s possessed!"
Huo Zhan Bai's face alternated between red and white as the young maid’s words stung him, and even the lotus seed porridge in his mouth lost its flavor. "I’m sorry."
"Hmph... no need to apologize to me," Yan Zhi Nu snorted. "It’s just that last time, your group of friends got drunk here and spilled everything to Miss. Eight years of your life, every detail—absolutely scandalous! After hearing it, Miss finally gave up on you."
"Xia Qian Yu..." Huo Zhan Bai gritted his teeth, muttering under his breath. He knew exactly which group of friends frequented this place with him. He had warned them multiple times not to bring up the past, but these loudmouths couldn’t keep their tongues in check.
"As it happens, a rich merchant from the western regions came by—a man so wealthy he could crush people with his money. He became infatuated with Miss at first sight. His wife has passed, and he’s looking to remarry. It’s better than being a concubine, so she agreed." Yan Zhi Nu finished her complaint and left him there. "You eat by yourself. Miss is getting married today!"
Left alone in the room, Huo Zhan Bai ate a few bites absentmindedly. Outside, the sound of drums and gongs rang out, filling the air with celebration.
He walked over to the window, pushing it open to see a wedding procession below. The lively group was carrying boxes of gifts, and a middle-aged merchant with brown hair and green eyes rode a tall horse, smiling broadly. Behind him, a procession of servants carried dowries, and the firecrackers were so loud they almost deafened the crowd.
That must be the wealthy merchant from the western regions.
Marrying a courtesan wasn’t typically a celebrated event, yet this merchant flaunted it proudly, clearly doting on Liu Feifei. The madam, who had likely received a fortune, was sobbing uncontrollably as she helped the veiled bride out of the house.
Just before stepping into the bridal sedan, the bride turned her head—perhaps intentionally, perhaps not—catching a glimpse of her room through the gap in her veil.
There, a man in white stood by the window, tall and elegant, like a jade tree in the wind.
Goodbye, Bai.
"Well, well! Can’t bear to watch your old lover get married?" A teasing voice suddenly came from beside him, followed by a hand patting his shoulder.
Who was it? Someone had managed to slip into the room without him noticing! Startled, Huo Zhan Bai instinctively twisted to the right, lunging for the medicine pouch on the bedside table, his right hand already drawing the Mohun Sword from its sheath.
"Wait!" Just as his sword was about to strike, the intruder shouted, "It’s me!"
"Qian Yu?" Huo Zhan Bai hesitated, halting his sword mid-strike.
The young man in fine robes had been startled, grabbing a silver candlestick to shield himself. He exhaled deeply, relieved. "I heard from Madam Chong that you arrived in Yangzhou last night and were staying here, so I came by this morning to check on you—what’s gotten into you, Old Seventh?"
When the Dingjian Pavilion was first established, there were four famous swords, later increased to eight. These were the elite of the martial world, each master of their own extraordinary skills. Xia Qian Yu, the only son of the head of the Sword Sect of Huashan, was a year older than Huo Zhan Bai and ranked sixth among the eight swords. Though born into a prestigious family, he had a carefree nature, often frequenting pleasure houses and still unmarried.
It was Xia Qian Yu who had dragged him to this place for the first time years ago.
"Sorry." Huo Zhan Bai smiled sheepishly, sheathing his sword. "I’ve been a little on edge."
Xia Qian Yu put the candlestick down, frowning. "That medicine of yours—have you finally managed to get it made this year?"
"It’s done." Huo Zhan Bai smiled, exhaling in relief.
"About time!" Xia Qian Yu sighed. "Any longer, and I thought you were going to lose your mind."
"The one losing his mind is you," Huo Zhan Bai retorted, quick to counter his playful friend. "You’re past thirty and still hanging around places like this—don’t you see that even Old Third already has a son?"
"Don’t compare me to that old man Wei Feng Xing." Xia Qian Yu scoffed. "I’m still young and handsome."
Among the eight swords of the Dingjian Pavilion, "Young Master of the Jade Tree" Wei Feng Xing and "White Feather Sword" Xia Qian Yu were the most notorious for their romantic escapades. They had roamed the martial world together, not only leaving a trail of defeated foes but also many romantic entanglements. However, eight years ago, Wei Feng Xing had suddenly changed his ways, disappearing from the martial world and distancing himself from his old friends. It was said he had settled down, gotten married, and started a family.
Xia Qian Yu, left alone, couldn’t help but feel abandoned, harboring resentment ever since.
"Since you’re back alive, let’s get together tonight!" Xia Qian Yu punched him playfully. "It’s been nearly a year since we all met up."
The eight swords were sworn brothers, and after being recruited into Dingjian Pavilion, they had accomplished great feats together, maintaining order in the central plains and resisting the western demonic cult. But since Xu Zhong Hua’s execution, only seven swords remained, and the camaraderie had faded.
"Sorry, I’ve got urgent business to attend to." Huo Zhan Bai shook the medicine pouch in his hand.
He had finally reached Yangzhou—he could open the pouch now. Eagerly, he untied the pouch, but the look on his face quickly turned to one of surprise—there were no pills inside. Instead, there was a hairpin, a letter, and a smaller silk pouch.
The hairpin was attached to the letter. He recognized it immediately—it was Xue Zi Ye’s favorite purple jade hairpin.
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