At the same time as the ambush on the snowy plains of Uliyasutai, far away atop the Kunlun Mountains, Tong slowly opened his eyes.
“It’s time to act.” Miao Huo, already waiting in the darkness, didn’t dare look at the pair of eyes glowing with a strange light in the shadows. Instead, he bowed his head, staring at Tong’s feet. “Tomorrow morning, the Holy Leader will head to the summit's paradise. Only Ming Li will accompany him; Miao Kong and Miao Shui are both away, and Miao Feng hasn’t returned yet.”
“The Eight Riders must have stalled Miao Feng.” Tong’s eyes gleamed as he grasped the blood-soaked sword by his side, his voice low. “As long as he doesn’t return, things will be much easier. Act according to plan—when the Holy Leader passes by the glacier, make your move.”
“Yes.” Miao Huo nodded and quietly withdrew.
Left alone in the darkness, Tong’s eyes slowly closed again.
So, the Eight Riders had indeed intercepted Miao Feng. But what about that female doctor… how was she faring now?
Sitting in the deepest, darkest corner, Tong’s mind flashed with the image of a beautiful head being swiftly severed by a long blade. In that instant, he instinctively tightened his grip on his sword. His fingers trembled slightly from the effort, as though he was feeling some deep, bone-chilling fear.
Fear of what? That order had clearly come from his own lips.
He absolutely couldn’t allow Miao Feng to bring the doctor back to the Grand Light Palace to save that demon. Anyone trying to protect that demon had to be eliminated—whether gods or men stood in the way, they would be cut down without hesitation. And yet… why was there always a small voice in the back of his mind, warning him that this decision would be a terrible mistake?
“Ming Jie... I swear, I won’t let you remain in the darkness any longer.”
The image of those bright, concerned eyes rose in his mind again, staring at him with an infuriating mix of care and gentleness.
He fought to control his thoughts, refusing to let himself fall into this inexplicable confusion. His pale, slender fingers caressed the cold, sharp edge of the blood-soaked sword lying across his knees. The blade, coated in the powder of dragon blood beads, emitted a faint red glow. Even the blood groove was filled with the same powdered dragon blood beads.
A sword like this could slay any god or demon.
Sitting in the dark, he listened to the sounds of screams and violent combat coming from the Beast Realm next door. A silent smile curled at the corner of his mouth.
Holy Leader… tomorrow will be your last day alive.
His eyes snapped open, and a flash of purple light shot out, glowing eerily like a demon in the night.
* * *
At the same time as the ambush on the snowy plains of Uliyasutai, a white bird flew through the vast forest and snowy plains, heading straight for the Apothecary Valley.
“Caw—” The bird, clearly familiar with the area, flew directly toward the Summer Garden, passed through the beaded curtains, and landed on a shelf, loudly calling and flapping its wings, trying to get the attention of its mistress.
However, after calling for a long time, the only response was a sleepy maid yawning as she came out. “What’s making all that noise? Hmm?”
Shuang Hong recognized the bird instantly and gasped in surprise. The snowy falcon hopped onto her shoulder, its claws gripping her gently as it tugged at the cloth tied to its leg, trying to get her to notice it.
“Oh? Is this something your master sent for the Valley Master?” Rubbing her eyes, Shuang Hong finally noticed the cloth and muttered, “But she’s left the valley, and she won’t be back for quite some time.”
“Coo?” The snowy falcon seemed to understand her words. It used its beak to untie the cloth and brought it over to her.
“‘New wine brewed from green ants, a small clay stove with red mud. The evening is calling for snow; will you share a cup of wine?—I’ll be back soon, wait for me with warm wine under the plum trees. Bai.’”
Shuang Hong couldn’t help but smile at the brief message.
“So, Master Huo really plans to return here, huh?” She seemed delighted as she folded up the cloth. “No wonder the Valley Master told us to bury a few jars of Laughing at the Dust wine under the plum trees before she left—we thought he’d forgotten this place once he recovered.”
“Caw.” At the mention of Laughing at the Dust, the snowy falcon jumped excitedly, its beady eyes glittering with anticipation.
“However, the Valley Master is currently at Kunlun treating the Holy Leader. It might be quite a while before she returns.” Shuang Hong sighed as she stroked the bird’s feathers. “That’s such a long journey… I hope Miao Feng can truly protect her.”
The snowy falcon’s eyes grew worried as well. It suddenly hopped onto the table, picked up a writing brush in its beak, and turned to look at Shuang Hong.
“You want to send a reply?” Shuang Hong blinked in surprise.
* * *
Blood bloomed like fireworks across the desolate plains.
After holding for an hour, the Heavenly Net Formation finally collapsed. In the instant the formation broke, four bodies fell in four different directions. Before the remaining assassins could react, Miao Feng struck in a blur, his sword pressed against the throat of a fifth man.
“Speak. Tong sent you—what is his plan?” Miao Feng’s eyes burned with a terrible killing intent as his blade slowly traced down, cutting into the main artery. “If you don’t talk, I’ll flay you alive.”
No one understood the resilience of the assassins trained in the Asura battlefield better than he did.
So, he knew he could not show any mercy.
“Heh.” Morning Dove, the assassin pinned under his sword, showed no fear. Instead, there was a mocking smile on his lips. “Feng, I don’t understand… why would someone like you willingly be the Holy Leader’s dog?”
“Why do you choose to be Tong’s dog?” Miao Feng replied indifferently. “There’s no need for either of us to understand.”
“Speak. What’s Tong’s plan?” His sword now severed the two major tendons beneath the man’s collarbone. “Or you’ll be skinned alive.”
Morning Dove suddenly burst into laughter. As he laughed, his complexion rapidly turned a ghastly gray.
“Feng, it seems… you’ve been away from the Asura battlefield for far too long…” A trickle of green blood dripped from the assassin’s lips as the last of them collapsed onto the snow, smirking coldly. “Have you… forgotten about the ‘Sealing Throat’?”
Morning Dove fell to the ground, dying swiftly and peacefully, with a mocking smile still on his face.
Miao Feng froze. Such a quick death was beyond his control—of course! The “Sealing Throat” poison capsule! He had forgotten that every assassin from the Asura battlefield carried one in their teeth.
He let his sword drop weakly, staring blankly at the corpses strewn across the bloodstained snow. These people… they were once just like him.
His breath came in ragged gasps. Miao Feng pressed his hand to his chest, coughing up blood—defeating the Eight Riders was no small feat. He had resorted to using a forbidden technique, Heavenly Demon Body Split, to emerge victorious, but the backlash had left him gravely injured.
Leaning on his sword for support, he began staggering westward—the female doctor, she should have reached Uliyasutai by now, right?
However, after barely taking three steps, something caught his eye—
Footprints! Next to Xue Zi Ye’s departing trail, there was a second set of faint tracks!
Suddenly alert, Miao Feng turned sharply, scanning the battlefield. His sword swept across the snow, scattering the remaining powder. He counted five bodies on the snow, and with the earlier deaths of Chasing Lightning and Bronze Sparrow, that made seven—his face paled instantly. One body was missing!
Flying Dart? From the previous assault, the assassin he had repelled with a single strike—she hadn’t died?
Behind him, the sound of the battle had faded into silence, and Xue Zi Ye was running blindly through the snowstorm, uncertain of her direction.
She struggled through the knee-deep snow, one li, then two… The wind and snow knocked her down repeatedly, and the internal energy Miao Feng had infused in her was slowly fading. She could feel the cold returning, her chest tightening painfully, making it hard to breathe. She stumbled and fell face-first into the deep snow.
Faintly, she could see a patch of green in the distance and heard the distant sound of camel bells—Was that… Uliyasutai?
That oasis of willows in the middle of the Gobi Desert?
With the last of her strength, she pushed herself up on her hands, inching forward toward the distant hope. She had to reach it quickly… otherwise, the snow and wind would freeze her solid before she could make it.
“Well, still moving, are you?” A cold voice suddenly sneered next to her ear, and a foot stomped down viciously on her hand. “Judging by your face, you won’t last much longer, will you?”
A white-clad figure, wearing armor and a mask, stood over her, laughing coldly—it was a woman’s voice.
“I’ll be merciful and spare you further suffering,” said Flying Dart, who had clearly sustained injuries herself. Her hand trembled as she gripped her sword, struggling to catch her breath. “I’ll take your head and report back to Tong!”
Tong? In that moment, Xue Zi Ye’s body stiffened as if struck by lightning. She looked toward the distant west, to Kunlun.
Ming Jie… so it really was you… You sent someone to kill me?
A bitter smile tugged at her lips as she watched the gleaming blade descend toward her. She reached for the weapon at her waist, but it was too late.
“Ding!” A sharp clash rang out through the wind, and Flying Dart’s sword veered off course mid-strike, forced aside by a blue-steel blade that had been hurled from the distance. The sword was infused with a powerful inner energy, and Flying Dart barely managed to parry it, retreating three steps before she could steady herself, her chest roiling with blood.
But before she could fully recover, her opponent was already upon her. With a swift movement, two hands formed a circle, enveloping her in an arc of energy.
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