Hidden in the depths of a seemingly unremarkable mountain forest lies the Xianxiu Ravine. At first glance, it appears to be nothing more than a chaotic jumble of trees and rocks. However, once you navigate past a few barren boulders, a breathtaking landscape unfolds before your eyes. Crystal-clear streams meander through lush greenery, creating a serene and picturesque setting.
Nestled within this ravine is the Xuankong Monastery. Its name, meaning “Suspended in Air,” stems from its unique position above a translucent waterfall. From afar, the tranquil monastery with its black tiles and white walls seems to float midair.
This area marks the border between the territories of the Six Northern Chen Sects and the Li Sect. Strictly speaking, it’s slightly closer to the Lihan Sea Mountain Range. Due to its weak influence and awkward location, Xuankong Monastery rarely involves itself in the conflicts between the two factions, only making appearances at the Six Northern Chen Sects’ celebratory gatherings.
This neutrality goes largely uncriticized in the martial arts world, as the monastery’s founder, the revered nun Minghui, established it primarily to aid destitute women. Were it not for the omnipresent strife between the Six Northern Chen Sects and the Li Sect, they would prefer to remain uninvolved entirely.
Over the past century, Xuankong Monastery has weathered numerous storms. It has been coerced by the Six Northern Chen Sects to fight against the Demonic Cult and targeted by unscrupulous members of the Li Sect. Fortunately, these crises were resolved without major incidents, largely due to the face-saving concerns of the leaders on both sides.
The Qingque Sect leader who forced Xuankong Monastery to join the fight against the Demonic Cult was ridiculed by both righteous and evil factions for a decade. They mocked him for resorting to weak nuns when the Six Northern Chen Sects’ male disciples were insufficient, bringing shame to their ancestors.
Similarly, the Li Sect often turned a blind eye to the nearby monastery. Nie Hengcheng once berated his second disciple, Chen Shu, for attempting to kidnap Xuankong disciples to practice his Five Poison Palm technique. He argued that subduing a sect with mostly untrained female disciples would bring no honor.
Thus, the monastery has survived to this day, protected by the face-saving concerns of powerful leaders and the ability of its abbesses to fend off lesser threats.
“There’s another little-known reason for their survival,” Cai Pingchun remarked as he dismounted and led his horse up the mountain. Cai Zhao, Song Yuzhi, and Fan Xingjia followed closely behind.
” Xuankong Monastery has produced about a dozen ‘wayward disciples,'” Cai Pingchun continued with a smile. “Talented girls with untamed spirits who couldn’t bear the strict rules and endless cycle of vegetarian meals and Buddhist chants. So…”
“So they turned right and joined the Youming Huang Path?” Cai Zhao interjected mischievously.
Cai Pingchun chuckled at his daughter’s quip. Song Yuzhi exclaimed in surprise, “They all joined the Demonic Cult?”
Fan Xingjia, wiping sweat from his brow, panted, “Who could endure endless vegetarian meals and chanting? Still, joining the Demonic Cult is going too far.”
“Not all of them joined the Demonic Cult,” Cai Pingchun explained as they walked. “Some who strayed and found themselves with nowhere else to go eventually returned to Xuankong Monastery.”
Fan Xingjia grumbled, “Treating their sect like a fallback option after betraying it? If this happened in Elder Li’s sect, they wouldn’t survive three meals!”
Cai Zhao nodded, “Fifth Senior Brother’s words may be harsh, but he has a point. Without rules, how can a sect flourish?”
Cai Pingchun raised an eyebrow, looking at the three young people behind him. “Is that what you all think?”
Song Yuzhi furrowed his brow slightly. “Perhaps Xuankong Monastery never intended to expand its influence. They’re different from typical martial arts sects, aiming only to protect vulnerable women. Not everyone in this world is blessed with extraordinary talent or luck…”
Cai Pingchun patted Song Yuzhi’s shoulder. “Your master is right. It’s not a bad thing for young people to face setbacks. Those who see deeper can go further.”
Fan and Cai blushed in embarrassment.
Compassion isn’t weakness or lack of discipline; it’s choosing a different path.
“However,” Cai Pingchun added, “those female disciples who return after facing hardships often develop a stronger faith in Buddhism. They break through delusions faster, ultimately achieving enlightenment and protecting more unfortunate women.”
Song Yuzhi sighed in relief, “Karma and divine justice prevail. It’s as it should be.”
Cai Pingchun continued, “Among those who didn’t return remorsefully, five or six opened shops and established businesses. Their skills learned at Xuankong Monastery were sufficient to deal with local ruffians. They prospered, raised families, and would send vegetarian dishes to the monastery during festivals. The abbess always suspected the food was cooked in pork fat due to its rich aroma…”
Cai Zhao and Fan Xingjia listened with delight, their spirits lifting.
“Two or three made names for themselves in the Demonic Cult. It’s said one became a female elder, two became altar masters, and some married powerful figures in the cult. In short…”
Cai Zhao chimed in, “In short, everyone found their path to happiness.”
Cai Pingchun shook his head with a smile, while Song Yuzhi and Fan Xingjia laughed heartily.
As the laughter subsided, Cai Pingchun spoke slowly, “Whether one chooses to embrace worldly life or pursue spiritual cultivation, it should be a decision from the heart, not constrained by other factors.”
“In my youth, I often criticized my elder sister for always taking the lead and not following our ancestral teachings by staying secluded in Luoying Valley. I wondered why she bothered with the chaotic martial arts world.”
“After all these years, I’ve slowly come to understand – in this short life, what’s the point if we can’t live according to our hearts?”
He looked meaningfully at his daughter. Cai Zhao stood dazed, seemingly grasping her father’s intent.
Despite Cai Pingchun’s warm portrayal of Xuankong Monastery, the group was greeted by Abbess Jingyuan’s perpetually icy expression. As usual, she first berated Cai Pingchun and Ning Xiaofeng, then reprimanded Cai Zhao for her various misdeeds over the past year, and finally scolded the Cai couple for their lax parenting.
Normally, the abbess of Xuankong Monastery and the master of Luoying Valley would-be peers, but due to Ning Xiaofeng’s relationship, the Cai family had become Jingyuan’s juniors and had to listen respectfully.
As soon as she paused for breath, Cai Pingchun hastily explained their purpose. Jingyuan’s expression changed, and she dismissed her disciples.
“I’ve never heard of any Purple Jade Golden Mallow,” Jingyuan said coldly. “Why have you come to Xuankong Monastery?”
Song Yuzhi, eager to restore his position, urgently replied, “Surely you’ve heard about the recent turmoil at Guangtian Gate, Venerable Abbess. It’s not that I covet the position of sect leader, but if Guangtian Gate falls into the hands of Song Xiuzhi, that fratricidal hypocrite, it would be a disaster for the world.”
Cai Zhao chimed in, “Exactly! I suspect Song Xiuzhi has unclear ties with the Demonic Cult. He even used Lu Chengnan’s ‘Bone-Eroding Sky Rain.’ That night, countless people were reduced to pools of blood. It was horrific!”
Abbess Jingyuan shot the girl a stern look. “Don’t muddy the waters. Yang Heying used the ‘Bone-Eroding Sky Rain,’ not Song Xiuzhi.”
“So you’ve heard about it!” Cai Zhao exclaimed happily. “The whole incident was orchestrated by Song Xiuzhi and Yang Heying. Can you be certain Song Xiuzhi knew nothing about it?”
Jingyuan fell silent.
Song Yuzhi explained, “My father is gravely injured and recuperating in Luoying Valley. Meanwhile, I’ve been afflicted by the Demonic Cult’s ‘Netherworld Cold Qi,’ restricting my abilities and preventing me from defeating Song Xiuzhi. If you truly know the whereabouts of the Purple Jade Golden Mallow, please have mercy and share this information.”
Seeing Jingyuan’s continued silence, Cai Pingchun solemnly said, “Venerable Abbess, when my sister entrusted the Purple Jade Golden Mallow to you, she must have left some instructions.”
A true expert can discern the truth with just a few words.
Jingyuan glanced at Cai Pingchun. “Follow me, all of you.” She led the four through a maze-like path into a hidden chamber concealed behind layers of rock.
The hexagonal room was built entirely of white hemp stone. In the center stood a square stone platform with a meditation cushion, several sutras, and a porcelain bottle of clear water—clearly Jingyuan’s daily meditation spot.
“So the Purple Jade Golden Mallow is really in your possession?” Cai Zhao looked around curiously. “You just claimed you’d never heard of it—Venerable Abbess, aren’t monastics supposed to refrain from lying?”
Jingyuan tapped a corner of the stone platform, revealing a hidden drawer. She retrieved an object and turned back to them. “I didn’t lie. Cai Pingchu never called this item the Purple Jade Golden Mallow.”
“Aunt didn’t say anything, yet you agreed to keep it safe. It seems you don’t dislike my aunt as much as people think,” Cai Zhao said with a smile as she took the object—a cold, purple-black stone—and passed it to Song Yuzhi, who gripped it tightly, trembling with emotion.
Jingyuan looked at Cai Pingchun. “Do you know the importance of this item?”
Cai Pingchun nodded. “Yes, it’s connected to a mysterious evil technique. Back then, Nie Heng—”
“Say no more,” Jingyuan interrupted. “Xuankong Monastery is just a small, isolated sect. I don’t want to know about these dark secrets of the martial world.” She continued, “When Cai Pingchu entrusted this to me, she stressed its importance and instructed me to destroy it immediately if there was any risk of it falling into the wrong hands.”
She pointed to a corner where a set of diamond rock mortar and pestle stood ready to crush any hard object.
Cai Pingchun asked, puzzled, “Then why did you give it to us so easily?”
Jingyuan replied, “Because Cai Pingchu wrote in her letter that there was only one circumstance under which I should hand it over—if you and your wife, or Zhao and Xiao Han came asking for it.”
Cai Pingchun sighed, “I never imagined that in her final moments, my sister could only trust her own family.” This was a great irony for someone who had lived such a righteous and passionate life.
“Don’t flatter yourself. She trusted many people throughout her life, and I doubt that changed even at the end,” Jingyuan said coldly, with a hint of regret. “Cai Pingchu said that the thing she had hidden away with great effort, all four of you should know not to seek. If it came to a point where you had to find it, either you were being coerced or someone desperately needed saving—she left this for your sake.”
Song Yuzhi was moved. “Heroine Cai was indeed considerate. It’s my carelessness that has brought this item back into the world.”
Cai Zhao felt deeply touched. “This thing always makes me uneasy. Once Third Senior Brother dispels the Netherworld Cold Qi, let’s destroy it immediately, grinding it to dust!”
Cai Pingchun agreed.
“Good that you understand!” Jingyuan’s expression softened. “Don’t dawdle. Heal your wounds here in this chamber. This item is inauspicious; destroy it as soon as you’re done.”
Cai Pingchun and Song Yuzhi sat on the stone platform. Fan Xingjia laid out his needle case, revealing hundreds of refined silver needles of varying lengths. As Song Yuzhi meditated and Cai Pingchun channeled his energy into Song Yuzhi’s back, Jingyuan and Cai Zhao stood quietly nearby.
As white vapor began to rise from Song Yuzhi’s Baihui acupoint, Fan Xingjia swiftly inserted silver needles into his body.
Suddenly, Jingyuan turned to Cai Zhao. “You guessed the Purple Jade Golden Mallow was with me. How?”
Cai Zhao, watching her father concernedly, softly explained her deduction process. She had realized that such a small item could have been sent by carrier pigeon, eliminating the need for personal delivery. However, nearly everyone close to her aunt had attended the funeral, while those on bad terms wouldn’t have been contacted. Jingyuan was the exception—known to be at odds with Cai Pingchu yet still connected to Luoying Valley by carrier pigeons.
Jingyuan smiled slightly. “Xiaofeng was right; you have a clever, devious mind.” Looking at the three on the platform, she added, “If Cai Pingchu had half your cunning, perhaps she wouldn’t have died so young.”
Cai Zhao asked quietly, “Venerable Abbess, why did you accept my aunt’s request? All these years, I thought you disliked her and often criticized you behind your back.”
Jingyuan didn’t take offense. “Everyone was wrong. I didn’t dislike or disapprove of Cai Pingchu. Rather… she was too dazzling, like a blindingly bright sun. I feared she might burn people.”
Cai Zhao listened silently, thinking of Mu Qingyan.
“Someone once told me that Nie Hengcheng was like a towering mountain, casting a shadow over everyone in the Demonic Cult. When he died, that shadow lifted, leaving his disciples, family, and loyal followers at a loss. I thought then, that if Nie Hengcheng was a mountain, my aunt was an eagle soaring in the sky. No mountain can surpass an eagle—and indeed, Nie Hengcheng eventually died by her hand.”
Jingyuan smiled, a rare occurrence. “The first time I saw Cai Pingchu was at the Northern Chen Six Sects’ biennial disciple competition. She was younger than you are now, and your father even younger. Every one pitied the little sister and brother, thinking they’d have to rely on Peiqiong Manor. But when your aunt appeared, she immediately astounded everyone, becoming famous overnight.”
The dressed old nun’s gaze grew distant as if recalling that sunny competition day twenty years ago when a slender, young girl stood alone on the high arena platform, and no disciple dared to challenge her.
“I had just become the leader of Xuankong Monastery then, and your aunt’s flamboyance made me inexplicably uneasy. But my senior and junior sisters liked her, as did my disciples. After returning to the monastery, they constantly talked about her. In our secluded mountain life, your aunt’s great deeds in the martial world became the favorite stories among the female disciples.”
Cai Zhao asked in surprise, “So you have senior and junior sisters, Venerable Abbess? Um, where are they now?”
Jingyuan turned back. “Do you find Xuankong Monastery very quiet? On your way up, you saw only twenty or thirty people, mostly elderly nuns who can’t practice martial arts?”
Cai Zhao nodded, somewhat embarrassed.
“Yes, because my current disciples, not much older than you, were taken in after Nie Hengcheng’s death,” Jingyuan sighed. “But it wasn’t always like this. Though small, Xuankong Monastery once had over a dozen skilled martial artists to uphold its reputation.”
“The martial world is never peaceful. Somehow, Nie Hengcheng suddenly went berserk, massacring heroes across the land. I cautiously kept my disciples close, forbidding them from drawing attention, thinking we could avoid calamity. But…”
Jingyuan’s eyes glistened. “Then a letter came from home, saying my mother was on her deathbed. Your maternal grandmother called me back for her final moments. Before leaving, I repeatedly cautioned my sisters and disciples not to leave Yinxiu Ravine, prioritizing safety above all.”
“But when I returned, I found Xuankong Monastery awash in blood, limbs scattered everywhere. My top disciples had died in pools of blood, sacrificing themselves to allow the younger ones to escape. The survivors told me that my senior and junior sisters had been captured by the Demonic Cult after a fierce battle. I was at a loss, and Old Sect Leader Yin was skilled at playing dead, so I had no choice but to seek your aunt’s help.”
“Your aunt wasn’t faring well at that time either. Most of her close companions had been killed by the Demonic Cult, and she seemed to have suffered a severe illness, looking pale and haggard. But when I told her about Xuankong Monastery’s plight, she agreed to help without hesitation.”
“She told me to wait outside the Youming Huang Path while she ventured into the demon’s lair alone. She emerged late that night, dragging a large sack. When I opened it, I broke down in tears—inside were the withered corpses of my senior and junior sisters, their essence, inner power, and vital energy completely drained. How tragic that these women, who lived peacefully and compassionately, met such a terrible fate!”
“I cursed Nie Hengcheng as less than an animal, but I was terrified inside. I asked your aunt if Nie Hengcheng was cultivating the ‘Spirit Leech Technique’ and if he had found a way to overcome its drawbacks. You see, the technique’s inherent risk is both its greatest flaw and its greatest benefit.”
“Without this sword hanging over one’s head, anyone could absorb others’ essence and inner power for their use. Who, whether righteous or evil, could confidently say they’d never be tempted by such power? If Nie Hengcheng had unraveled this mystery, the martial world would have descended into endless bloodshed.”
“Your aunt didn’t answer me. She looked awful and only said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll handle this.’ Half a month later, I heard she had single-handedly climbed Mount Tu and slain the great demon Nie Hengcheng.”
“For the next decade or so, she raised you in Luoying Valley while I rebuilt our sect at Xuankong Monastery. We never met again. She’d occasionally mention you in Xiaofeng’s letters home, mostly sharing amusing anecdotes about you.”
“Over four years ago, she suddenly wrote to me, saying she was on her deathbed. She asked me not to attend her funeral and entrusted that dark stone to me, enclosed with the letter.”
Without realizing it, Cai Zhao’s face was streaked with tears.
“I once disliked your aunt’s flamboyance, but I don’t feel that way anymore,” Jingyuan sighed softly. “The old leader of the Yellow Sand Gang was my late senior sister’s first cousin. I went to see him off before he retired.”
“The old hero said that with Nie Hengcheng dead, the world was at peace. He had no regrets except for his short-sightedness in not properly teaching his daughter self-reliance, forcing her to live a compromised life. It’s a shame—his eldest daughter, Madam Zhuo, had excellent potential but was raised to be weak and timid.”
“I see, that explains it,” Cai Zhao remembered. “Madam Zhuo has a daughter named Yang Xiaolan, a year or two younger than me. I bet that old turtle Yang Heying didn’t teach her properly either. But I’ve seen her skills—they’re impressive. Even ordinary Siqimen techniques become thunderous when she uses them!”
Jingyuan smiled. “It seems Madam Zhuo’s talent was passed down to her daughter. Ah finding a good son-in-law and entrusting one’s life to him—that’s how most people think. But because of your aunt’s existence, many realized that women can also stand tall and independent.”
“Yes!” Cai Zhao’s tears turned to laughter. “My aunt always said she lived a fulfilling life!”
“Phew…” Fan Xingjia retreated, drenched in sweat, until he was against the wall. Song Yuzhi’s eyes were tightly closed, his palms facing each other in the air. The dark Purple Jade Golden Mallow tumbled between his palms, a thick white vapor enveloping his jade-like face, forehead, temples, neck, and chest. Dozens of major acupoints were pierced with silver needles.
Cai Pingchun, looking grave, his forehead beaded with sweat, continuously channeled his inner power into Song Yuzhi.
“Venerable Abbess, Junior Sister, I’m done. It’s your turn,” Fan Xingjia panted heavily.
Jingyuan nodded, and Cai Zhao immediately followed. They stood on either side of Song Yuzhi, exerting their energy to suppress the elusive cold qi in his dantian.
After about an hour, the thick white vapor around Song Yuzhi’s head and face gradually dissipated. Cai Zhao finished first, followed by Jingyuan, and finally, Cai Pingchun slowly withdrew his palms and exhaled. Including the motionless Song Yuzhi, all four simultaneously regulated their qi.
Fan Xingjia, seeing Song Yuzhi’s rosy complexion and the light in his brow, carefully approached to check his pulse. Soon, his face lit up with joy. “Strong meridians, clear dantian—Third Senior Brother, you’re finally fully recovered!”
Song Yuzhi felt warm, powerful energy flowing through his meridians, like someone who had just recovered from a long illness, his muscles eager to exert themselves. He opened his eyes with a slight smile. “My breath is still a bit chaotic. Let me regulate it for a moment.”
As Fan Xingjia removed the silver needles, he said cheerfully, “Not just you—Valley Master Cai, Venerable Abbess Jingyuan, and Junior Sister all expended a lot of true qi. Everyone needs to recover. Take your time to meditate and regulate your breath. I’ll go brew some restorative soup for everyone!”
Expelling the cold qi from Song Yuzhi’s dantian consumed significant inner power. Cai Pingchun had used the most, left with only about 20-30% of his power. Jingyuan and Cai Zhao had each lost 50-60%. This depletion was different from Song Shijun’s weakness due to internal injury; it was more like exhaustion after an intense battle with a formidable opponent. Though victorious, they were spent and needed time to recover.
Jingyuan nodded. “The herb garden and fields are in the back mountain. It’s quite secluded. Young Master Fan, please help yourself.”
Fan Xingjia left the secret chamber cheerfully.
A moment later, Song Yuzhi recovered first and leaped down from the stone platform. Seeing the others still meditating, he looked at the Purple Jade Golden Mallow in his hand. “…Perhaps I should destroy this now.”
Before he finished speaking, Cai Zhao, eyes still closed, nodded vigorously, like an amusing woodpecker toy. Jingyuan and Cai Pingchun seemed to sense this and smiled with their eyes closed.
Song Yuzhi, amused, walked towards the diamond rock mortar and pestle in the corner with the Purple Jade Golden Mallow. Just as he was about to throw it into the mortar, a loud crash came from behind. The stone door of the secret chamber was violently smashed open, and a group of black-clad figures swarmed in like sharp-toothed insects!
Before the four inside could react, the lead black-clad figure charged in like a bolt of lightning, striking Cai Pingchun’s back with a powerful palm. Cai Pingchun grunted and retaliated, sending the attacker crashing into the stone wall.
“Father!” Cai Zhao, disregarding her incomplete recovery, rushed to her father.
Cai Pingchun waved his daughter off with difficulty, coughing up blood, his eyes tightly shut as he slumped to one side.
“Venerable Abbess, Junior Sister, be careful!” Song Yuzhi grabbed his swords, Blue Rainbow and Bai Rainbow, and engaged the black-clad figures in fierce combat.
“Master! Master, save us!” Seven or eight more black-clad figures poured in, threatening about a dozen young nuns with blades. The nuns were covered in wounds.
“You scoundrels!” Jingyuan roared, shattering the skulls of two attackers with two swift palm strikes.
The black-clad figures, in groups of seven, formed three units. Each wielded different blades and long hook ropes, surrounding Cai Zhao, Jingyuan, and Song Yuzhi in a familiar yet strange formation.
Cai Zhao had encountered this formation before at Suchuan River, where she and Mu Qingyan had struggled even at full strength. Now, in this dire situation—with Jingyuan and herself at half power, Jingyuan needing to protect the young disciples, and Cai Zhao supporting her severely injured father—their predicament was far worse.
The attackers, seemingly aware that Song Yuzhi was currently the strongest, focused their most skilled fighters on him. Their techniques were ghostly and vicious.
After just a few exchanges, one attacker suddenly turned his blade towards a young nun behind him. Song Yuzhi, alarmed, quickly changed his move to save her. At that moment, the other six attackers swung their swords in unison. Four long swords kept Song Yuzhi occupied, while two thrust directly at him.
Song Yuzhi kicked away the first attacker and quickly sidestepped, avoiding the two swords that only pierced his outer robe. As the two attackers withdrew their swords, they slashed outward, tearing Song Yuzhi’s robe and causing the Purple Jade Golden Mallow hidden in his chest to roll onto the ground.
Song Yuzhi inwardly cursed his luck, while the black-clad figures rejoiced, shouting, “It’s here! Quick, grab it!”
Amidst the struggle, a snake-like hook rope silently extended, snatching the Purple Jade Golden Mallow in a flash.
“We’ve got it, let’s go!” The leader, gripping the Purple Jade Golden Mallow, gestured forward. “Kill them all and burn down the place. I’ll call for more backup!”
Half of the black-clad figures left, disrupting their formation. Cai Zhao seized the opportunity to charge into the group, slaying those holding the nuns hostage. She then pushed her father towards Jingyuan. “Venerable Abbess, please look after my father and your disciples!”
Jingyuan understood her intention. With one hand supporting the unconscious Cai Pingchun and the other raised defensively, she protected the injured young nuns behind her.
Cai Zhao and Song Yuzhi fought back-to-back. Their swords—Blue Rainbow, Bai Rainbow, and the Blazing Sun Precious Blade—slashed and stabbed rapidly among the black-clad figures. The cold gleam of swords and the fierce blade shadows danced in the dark chamber. A few attackers tried to take the nuns, hostage, again but were swiftly killed by Jingyuan’s palm strikes.
Soon, the remaining dozen or so black-clad figures were slain. The last to die, his face covered in blood, laughed maniacally, “You can’t escape! Our comrades searching outside will be here soon!”
Song Yuzhi ran him through with his sword and asked anxiously, “What do we do now? We can escape, but there are many others on the mountain…”
Jingyuan asked her disciples about the others. The weeping nuns replied, “The other senior sisters are all dead. Only a few local sisters managed to escape down the mountain in the night. They know the terrain well, so they might have hidden in some cave!”
Jingyuan nodded and turned to press a spot on the stone wall. With a series of clicks, a narrow secret door opened in the wall.
“This secret passage leads directly down the mountain,” Jingyuan explained. “It took me over a decade to slowly carve it out!”
Cai Zhao understood. After Nie Hengcheng’s bloody assault on Xuankong Monastery years ago, Jingyuan must have decided to create this escape route.
She carefully wiped the blood from her father’s mouth and entrusted him to Jingyuan. “Venerable Abbess, on the west side of the mountain base, along the Xunhe River bank, there’s a boat with a Tixue flag hidden in a tributary. The Green Bamboo Gang’s leader and his confidants are personally manning it, waiting for our return. Take them and travel back to Luoying Valley by water. Don’t delay on the way.”
Jingyuan frowned. “What about you two?”
Cai Zhao masked her depleted inner power with a smile. “Once everyone’s gone, this secret passage will be discovered immediately. Senior Brother and I will draw away the black-clad men outside. Third Senior Brother, you agree, right?”
Elder Sister Jing Yuan vehemently objected, “This won’t do! You’re sending yourselves to death!”
Song Yuzhi glanced at Cai Zhao, “Zhao, you’d better go with the Elder Sister. I can handle this alone.”
“Oh, give me a break,” Cai Zhao retorted. “If it were just you, that would truly be suicide.”
Song Yuzhi shook the last drops of blood from his sword. With sincerity in his eyes, he addressed the Elder Sister, “With our skills, we can certainly escape. I swear to you, if it comes down to it, I’ll sacrifice myself to ensure my junior sister gets away safely!”
Elder Sister Jing Yuan hesitated.
“Don’t delay, Elder Sister,” Cai Zhao pressed the old nun’s hand, smiling lightly. “Besides, we need to find Senior Brother Fan. The Xuankong Temple’s position is difficult to defend and too close to the Devil Cult. Why not use this opportunity to relocate and start anew?”
Knowing the girl was joking to lighten the mood, Elder Sister Jing Yuan looked at her frightened disciples. Gritting her teeth, she helped Cai Pingchun up and instructed as she left, “Take care of yourselves!”
After a few steps, she suddenly turned back. “Years ago,” she said wistfully, “your aunt also suggested moving the temple to a safer place—I drove her out for that.”
Cai Zhao laughed through tears, “Don’t worry, Elder Sister. My two senior brothers and I will be safe!”
After the last nun disappeared into the secret passage, Cai Zhao closed the stone door. She and Song Yuzhi then deliberately wrecked the secret room, piling rubble against the door to make it look like the aftermath of a fierce battle.
Outside, flames grew and shouts drew nearer. Song and Cai fled towards the remote back mountain, passing scenes of devastation. They finally found Fan Xingjia hiding under a bamboo basket in a barren herb field.
“What’s happening outside? Has someone attacked the mountain?” Fan trembled. “I wanted to find you, but I was too scared! Where’s Sect Leader Cai and Elder Sister Jing Yuan?”
“No time to explain. Let’s go!” Song Yuzhi pulled Fan Xingjia up.
Just as they turned to leave, the black-clad men who had been searching Xuankong Temple arrived at the back mountain, cornering them.
“Excellent! Capture these three, and the master will reward us handsomely!” The lead attacker sneered.
Both sides roared and clashed fiercely. Outnumbered, Cai Zhao managed to kill seven or eight before collapsing, gasping for breath. Song Yuzhi had to protect her and Fan Xingjia, constantly swinging his sword as they retreated.
“What do they want? Are they here to kill us?” Fan Xingjia was on the verge of tears.
“You fool, they’re after the Purple Jade Golden Mallow!” Cai Zhao shouted angrily. Then, puzzled, she asked, “Third Senior Brother, if the Blood Swamp Night Orchid is destroyed, why do they still want the Purple Jade Golden Mallow?”
Fan Xingjia seemed dumbfounded. “Blood Swamp Night Orchid? What does it have to do with the Purple Jade Golden Mallow?”
Song Yuzhi fended off two attackers with his sword, allowing Cai Zhao to take over. He turned back, explaining, “The Devil Cult has an evil technique that requires both the Blood Swamp Night Orchid and the Purple Jade Golden Mallow. Without the Night Orchid, the Golden Mallow is useless!”
“Third Senior Brother, stop rambling and find an escape route!” Cai Zhao fought desperately, her depleted inner strength fading fast.
Hearing this, Fan Xingjia stood frozen, unable to move.
“Could someone have taken some branches before the Night Orchid was destroyed?” Song Yuzhi wondered aloud while fending off attacks. “Who could it be?”
Cai Zhao frowned, “Don’t be polite, Third Senior Brother. Just say Mu Qingyan’s name!”
Song Yuzhi coughed lightly, “I’m just speculating. Old Lady Jiang said only six of us entered the Blood Swamp in the past decade. Apart from us, there’s only…”
“It was me,” Fan Xingjia said blankly. “I snuck out at night and took a branch of the Night Orchid.”
Cai Zhao felt her hair stand on end, shrieking, “Fifth Senior Brother, what are you saying?”
Song Yuzhi wanted to question further, but the relentless attacks forced him to focus on defense.
“I… I didn’t know the Night Orchid was for evil techniques!” Fan Xingjia’s face was filled with fear and confusion, like a terrified child. “I felt it wasn’t right to steal, especially behind your backs!” He explained incoherently, tears falling. “That night, as I was returning with the Night Orchid, I saw you and Third Senior Brother coming from outside. I wanted to tell you then, but…”
Cai Zhao, finally catching her breath, grabbed Fan Xingjia’s shoulders tightly. “Forget that for now. Fifth Senior Brother, tell me, who put you up to this? Who?”
“It was… Sister, watch out!” Fan Xingjia’s eyes widened in fear, looking behind Cai Zhao. In a flash, he pushed her aside, taking a powerful blow from an attacker to his chest. Several ribs cracked audibly as he coughed blood and fell unconscious.
“Fifth Senior Brother!” Cai Zhao cried out, rushing to him. Song Yuzhi killed two more attackers before retreating to support Fan Xingjia. The black-clad men formed a semicircle, slowly closing in on the three, trapping them in what seemed like a deadly situation.
“Third Senior Brother,” Cai Zhao suddenly said softly, “I have two ‘Thunderstorm’ bombs left.”
Song Yuzhi turned, his face lighting up with hope.
“We’ll each take one and throw them simultaneously, then escape in the confusion,” the girl said, her pale face stained with blood. “Third Senior Brother, your inner strength has recovered better than mine. You take Fifth Senior Brother.”
Song Yuzhi nodded, draping Fan Xingjia’s arm over his shoulder while taking the ‘Thunderstorm’ bomb from Cai Zhao.
“How will we regroup?” he asked.
Before Cai Zhao could answer, the attackers charged. As they separated, Cai Zhao shouted over the crowd, “Remember ‘No rain on a stormy day,’ Third Senior Brother?”
For the first time since their sect’s calamity, Song Yuzhi laughed heartily, “Of course I do!”
“Good. I’ll count. One, two, three, throw!” At Cai Zhao’s command, Song Yuzhi hurled the bomb with all his might.
A deafening explosion shook the earth, instantly filling the air with flying debris, soil, and carnage. Amidst the screams of the black-clad men, Song Yuzhi quickly hoisted Fan Xingjia onto his back and fled down the mountain. He ran for miles, only daring to rest when dawn began to break.
As he caught his breath, something struck him as odd. Why had there been only one explosion? Could their timing have been so perfect that the blasts merged into one? No, Song Yuzhi dismissed this thought immediately. He had personally witnessed the chain reaction of the ‘Thunderstorm’ bombs in Zhengyuan Hall at Taichu Temple; he wasn’t unprepared for their power.
Song Yuzhi focused, meticulously recalling the events of those fleeting moments. The more he thought, the more alarmed he became. Only one ‘Thunderstorm’ had detonated. Where was the other? Why hadn’t Zhao thrown hers?
As the cold light of dawn touched his skin, his blood ran cold. A nameless fear gripped him as he realized the truth: Zhao had lied. It wasn’t that she didn’t throw her bomb; she only had one to begin with. And she had given it to him.
When his bomb exploded, the remaining attackers would have furiously converged on Cai Zhao’s position. What had become of her?
Song Yuzhi immediately turned to go back, but at that moment, Fan Xingjia let out a pained groan in his unconscious state. Gritting his teeth, Song had no choice but to first hide Fan in a nearby cave.
By now, daylight had fully broken. Without food or drink, Song Yuzhi raced back to Xuankong Temple. Yinxiu Stream was as peaceful as ever. There were no black-clad men, no corpses, and no sign of Cai Zhao—only lonely, crumbling ruins and a few bodies of the temple’s nuns.
Song Yuzhi rushed to the back mountain, to the spot where they had separated the night before. Following the trail of blood and sword marks on the rocks left by Yanyang Dao, he tracked the path step by step to the cliff’s edge. Below Xuankong Temple, the famous transparent water curtain curved here, forming a violently rushing waterfall. All traces ended at this point.
Song Yuzhi stood at the waterfall’s edge, lost in thought. A gentle breeze rustled through the forest, and birds sang cheerfully. But where had his little junior sister gone?