As the son of the Northern Fox Clan’s ruler, Lu Jiu had everything—peerless looks, noble status, and unparalleled charm. With his mastery of enchantment techniques, winning over women was effortless. The indulgence of his father had only made him more arrogant and entitled. Even He Lan Xue dared not make too many demands of him.
But Hong Ning—she had made him suffer a great humiliation once before, and worse, she refused to acknowledge his authority. That alone was enough to provoke his competitive nature.
He stepped closer. “What do you say? Beg me to let you go?”
Hong Ning clenched her fists, her voice steady. “I’ve heard the Northern Fox Clan has strict rules.”
Lu Jiu’s expression shifted slightly but quickly returned to indifference. “It’s just a game, no feelings involved. It won’t affect my cultivation. Do you really think my father would punish me for it?”
The camellia was already in his hands. Hong Ning knew she had little chance of escaping unscathed. But even if she couldn’t avoid this disaster, she refused to let him have his way so easily.
Reaching up, she pulled a hairpin from her head.
Muttering an incantation under her breath, she flicked it into the wind.
In an instant, the small hairpin transformed into a gleaming sword, its blade flashing with icy brilliance.
This was none other than the weapon Wen Xin had once wielded.
Though he had spent his later years in quiet cultivation, in his youth, he had traveled far and wide, vanquishing countless demons and spirits. The sword carried a heavy aura of retribution, striking fear into ordinary creatures. Now, it had been reforged into Hong Ning’s personal protective talisman.
Lu Jiu examined the sword with interest. “A fine weapon. But if you think you can use it against me, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Whether I can or not, let’s find out.” Hong Ning let out a cold scoff, lifting the sword high over her head.
Chanting an incantation, she summoned the power of the moon.
The sword’s radiance surged, shimmering with celestial energy as it slashed toward Lu Jiu.
“You do have some skill.” Lu Jiu remained unfazed.
With a casual flick of his sleeve, a flash of green light erupted in midair, slithering like a serpent as it coiled around the sword’s edge, locking it in place.
A scorching heat pulsed from the sword, burning Hong Ning’s hands.
The pain was unbearable.
Then, a searing sensation spread through her entire body, as if she were being consumed by flames.
A stabbing pain surged in her chest.
The blade’s glow dimmed.
Her power was being suppressed—she could no longer push forward.
Surprised by her persistence, Lu Jiu let out a soft scoff. “Let’s see how long you can hold out.”
The sword trembled in her grip.
Summoning all her willpower, Hong Ning renewed her incantation.
Lu Jiu sneered. “That’s Samadhi True Fire—the fire that devours the soul. Aren’t you afraid?”
The power gap between them was painfully obvious.
Hong Ning no longer had the strength to respond.
Of course, she knew the terror of Samadhi True Fire—it could reduce mortals to ashes in an instant.
But she had gambled that he wouldn’t actually kill her.
That was the only reason she dared to endure, to buy herself more time.
However, she had never been skilled in spellcasting. Now, forced to push herself to the limit, she was quickly reaching her breaking point.
Sweat trickled down her forehead.
Lu Jiu swiftly moved beside her, withdrawing his power with a smile. “Enough. You can’t win against me. You might as well just behave and—”
Before he could finish, Hong Ning suddenly turned her face toward him and opened her mouth.
A spray of blood shot straight at his chest.
Caught off guard, Lu Jiu barely had time to react before an overwhelming force struck him like a thousand-pound boulder.
A wave of unbearable pain coursed through his body, nearly causing him to lose consciousness.
A small wooden bead tumbled to the ground, gleaming faintly.
Realizing what had just happened, Lu Jiu stepped back. His anger boiled over into laughter. “Very good. You’ve got some nerve!”
Hong Ning staggered backward as well, barely managing to stay upright.
The Nine-Tailed Fox Clan was among the most difficult creatures to deal with. Only peachwood infused with fresh heart’s blood could force them to reveal their true form.
Though she was nearly drained of power, tonight was the full moon—the perfect time to amplify the spell’s effects.
And Lu Jiu, completely unguarded, had fallen for it.
In the blink of an eye, his true form emerged.
Silver claws extended from his fingertips.
Behind him, five long, thick snow-white tails swayed.
The beast within him awakened, his eyes gleaming with a menacing light.
“You’re asking for death.”
A flickering green flame ignited in his palm.
Hong Ning’s face turned pale, her body frozen in place.
By logic, once a demon was forced into their true form, their strength should have been greatly diminished—making them easier to defeat.
But she had underestimated the sheer power of the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan.
Even in his revealed state, Lu Jiu could still summon Samadhi True Fire.
And now, she had completely enraged him.
Forget her life—she might not even have a soul left when this was over.
Two thousand years of cultivation, and this was the first time he had ever been forced into his true form.
Lu Jiu could not let this humiliation go unpunished.
With a flick of his clawed fingers, the eerie green fire shot toward her.
Is this really how I die?
Terror consumed her, wiping away any instinct to dodge.
Despair filled her heart.
“Hong Ning!”
A voice, sharp with urgency and pain, rang out.
0 Comments