Only now, up close, could Ziqing truly see him clearly.

The vast rooftop had been stained entirely red with blood. On his body, she could see nothing else — her gaze locked instantly onto his right shoulder, a mangled ruin of torn flesh, as though the skin itself had been forcibly ripped away, gouging out a large chunk of muscle beneath, leaving bare bone faintly visible.

Up close, Ziqing finally understood — this man could collapse at any moment, and once he fell, he might very well never wake again.

This body was, in truth, nothing more than a shattered wreck, torn apart beneath a thousand talons and beaks.

Blood continued to flow, streaming from every wound across his body, nearly soaking through her embroidered slippers, leaving her feet feeling icy cold.

Up close now, this was exactly the kind of close-quarters combat she excelled at most.

Between them lay only the demon zither — a weapon that posed no threat to her whatsoever. With a body this shattered, even a single half-hearted punch would be enough to knock Xuanyuan Lige clean off the rooftop.

“My life was yours to save in the first place. Do it,” he suddenly said flatly, still smiling at her.

Ziqing gripped Liuguang tightly. In truth, she had already made up her mind.

“You never even played the true climax of Lishang, did you? The demon zither produces demonic sound — capable of killing through the ear, killing by the sound itself. The stringless zither, on the other hand, produces no sound at all — it only kills the heart of whoever plays it. Am I right?” Ziqing asked flatly.

Xuanyuan Lige’s smile only grew brighter still. “Even now, you still doubt me!”

“Don’t I have reason to? You gave me the stringless zither precisely because my heart is the least susceptible to Lishang’s influence of anyone alive. You could never have played it yourself.” Ziqing’s voice remained perfectly calm.

“Settling accounts with me before I die?” Xuanyuan Lige was still smiling, and yet Ziqing could clearly sense the melody flowing from beneath his fingers growing suddenly, profoundly more sorrowful.

“I told you long ago to value your own life. But… you never listened, did you?” Ziqing said flatly, her hand suddenly rising, Liuguang’s sharp blade flashing with brilliant light as it slashed cleanly through the air. Blood sprayed instantly from the back of Xuanyuan Lige’s hand, and he let out a muffled grunt of pain as the music abruptly cut off.

At the same instant, Ziqing’s right knee shot upward with brutal force — “Thump!” — sending the demon zither flying clean off the rooftop.

Xuanyuan Lige reached out to grab it, but it was already too late — he’d already been playing with the very last dregs of his strength; where could he possibly find the strength to catch it now?

He watched helplessly as Ziqing pursued the falling zither, while he himself, utterly unable to stop it, began to plummet downward as well.

“Han Ziqing, I would rather die by your hand.” The words screamed silently in his mind, fury rising even as he fell — but he no longer had even the strength left to voice it aloud. “Thud!” His body crashed straight through a section of the rooftop, and he continued falling.

But then — suddenly — a sharp, piercing whistle tore through the air, cutting across the sky.

Jun Beiyue’s heart lurched with alarm, and he immediately tried to leap up — only to cough up a mouthful of blood instead. The music had only just stopped moments ago; his own inner strength hadn’t yet recovered at all. He simply couldn’t move.

A long whip suddenly appeared out of nowhere, coiling around the falling demon zither in an instant and yanking it violently off to the right.

“Who’s there!” Ziqing shouted furiously, spinning around — only to find, standing in the corner of the opposite rooftop, a woman clad in purple, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. This particular shade of purple was nothing like Xuanyuan Lige’s own dreamlike violet — it carried instead a sharp, ruthlessly capable edge. Dressed in tight purple combat attire, wielding a long purple whip, her face concealed behind a butterfly-shaped purple mask, she radiated an unmistakable air of cold, striking allure.

A single crack of the whip, and the demon zither was already in her hand!

Who was this woman? When had she arrived? Could it be that even Lishang had had no effect on her at all?

Ziqing closed the distance in an instant. The woman immediately retreated, the corner of her lips curling into a cold smile. “Han Ziqing, this young lady has taken a liking to this man. His life belongs to me now.”

Ziqing didn’t answer, continuing her pursuit, quickly closing in behind the woman. Her strike with Liuguang was merely a feint — her true target was the woman’s shoulder, where her claw-like grip landed with devastating precision.

Facing whip-work this formidable, Ziqing had no absolute confidence in a prolonged exchange from a distance — the only way was to press the attack and pin the woman down.

The woman spun around abruptly, and, mirroring Ziqing’s own move, struck out with a knee of her own — ruthless, brutal force meeting brutal force.

The woman felt the pain of it, and so did Ziqing — but where the woman retreated, Ziqing did not, pressing forward instead.

“Han Ziqing, this young lady has no interest in playing games with you today. Don’t push your luck!” the purple-clad woman snapped furiously, clearly in pain herself.

Ziqing remained silent still, though her silence hardly meant she was indifferent to such an insult. A sudden Wind Blade shot straight for the woman’s mask; the woman jerked her head aside just in time, narrowly dodging it.

Ziqing immediately seized the opening, grabbing hold of the woman’s long whip, giving her not a moment’s respite before violently yanking her forward!

Some people, in the midst of battle, loved to talk big, to hurl all manner of boastful, arrogant taunts.

Others focused entirely, saying nothing at all, letting their own strength speak for itself.

Ziqing was unmistakably the latter. The woman was dragged forward in an instant, and Ziqing seized the upper hand.

But just then, the purple-clad woman suddenly burst out laughing. “Han Ziqing, look down at your feet!”

And at that very same moment, Jun Beiyue shouted as well, “Qing’er! Watch your feet!”

Ziqing didn’t even bother looking, immediately leaping skyward — and in that very instant, the purple-clad woman seized the chance to break free, wrenching herself away from Ziqing and putting distance between them, her long whip cracking viciously through the air.

Almost simultaneously, beneath where Ziqing had been standing, a series of whips suddenly lashed out from within the ruined building, and a moment later, the already-unconscious Xuanyuan Lige was carried out from within, escorted by a group of purple-clad maidservants.

One group of maidservants ushered Xuanyuan Lige toward the purple-clad woman, while another formed a whip formation to trap Ziqing where she stood.

“Your poison can’t touch me — why don’t you have a proper taste of the venom on my whip instead!” the purple-clad woman sneered, taking Xuanyuan Lige from her maidservants and turning to leave at once.

Her purpose here had always been simple: to take Xuanyuan Lige and go.

Ziqing tried to pursue, but found herself trapped within the whip formation, unable to break free. She unleashed a barrage of Wind Blades, finally managing to scatter the formation apart — but by the time she could give chase again, the purple-clad woman had already vanished without a trace.

Seeing their mistress leave, the purple-clad maidservants all took poison and died together, right there on the spot, before Ziqing could even stop them.

This had unquestionably been a meticulously planned rescue operation, executed to leave not a single living witness behind for interrogation.

“Damn it!” Ziqing spat furiously, staring at the bodies littering the ground, then turning to look at Jun Beiyue, clearly frustrated.

By now, Jun Beiyue and the two Elders of Qinse had finally begun to recover. Jun Beiyue didn’t even pause to speak with Ziqing, immediately turning and rushing off.

Every port had to be sealed at once. There was only one way off Liuxian Island — even if they were mermaids themselves, there would be no escaping by sea with Xuanyuan Lige in tow.

Ziqing gave the two Elders of Qinse a few quick instructions before hurrying after him as well.

This mysterious woman hadn’t just taken the demon zither and rescued Xuanyuan Lige — she clearly knew a great deal more besides. The fact alone that she’d known to use poison against Ziqing was proof enough that this was no simple matter.

Before long, the stunned crowd gradually began to recover, though none of them had any idea what had actually just happened.

With Xuanyuan Lige nowhere to be found, no small number of people began demanding answers from Qinse Valley. Elder Qin had no choice but to explain the situation to everyone and issue a formal martial-world wanted notice to quell the crowd’s outrage.

Jiao Cha and Mu Fusang stood at a distance, watching the purple-clad corpses, exchanging a knowing glance — clearly, they had noticed something, though neither dared speak of it openly.

…