Because of affection, one seeks closeness.

Luo Ying lightly scolded Su Zhuyi, but felt somewhat confused within her own heart.

She’d been having many dreams lately, re-experiencing all sorts of past events in them, watching that youth’s every move and developing feelings different from before.

What she’d previously overlooked became crystal clear in her dreams. That thirteen or fourteen-year-old youth grew up day by day, becoming stronger bit by bit, always smiling brilliantly in front of her. She thought he was smiling for her alone.

She thought he had different feelings for her. Previously, she’d found such emotions utterly unforgivable, but now, facing death and feeling inexplicably drawn to him, wanting to be close to him, she gradually relaxed day by day and wasn’t so resistant anymore.

When she couldn’t see him, she would feel inexplicably lost. She knew that inexplicable closeness wasn’t normal, which was why she’d asked Su Zhuyi whether the Longquan Sword was with Qinghe. But she’d also considered that even she couldn’t suppress the Longquan Sword. Back then, that great cultivator had exhausted all methods, not only sacrificing himself but also capturing several demonic path experts to seal the evil Longquan Sword. How could Qinghe possibly subdue that sword? If he’d truly brought the sword out, he would have long been devoured by the evil Longquan Sword and lost his sanity, slaughtering innocents everywhere.

“Master, Senior Brother loves you very much.” Su Zhuyi thought for a moment, still deciding to pierce through the window paper. Qinghe only listened to Luo Ying’s words—he was that evil sword, while Luo Ying was the scabbard binding that sword.

No matter how ruthless his heart or sharp his blade, the scabbard’s restraint and tolerance made him restrain his edge, becoming a fierce sword that didn’t kill.

Because of Luo Ying, he suppressed his killing intent.

Because of Luo Ying, he could stay in that cesspit continuously.

For him, love for Luo Ying could suppress the evil Longquan Sword’s killing intent—this point made Su Zhuyi find it incredible.

Ji Wuxin’s love for Little Skull made a great demon lord willingly commit suicide, only asking that his son could become a Mountain and River Spirit, have the chance to live freely between heaven and earth, see all the world’s scenery, carefree and unrestrained.

Qinghe’s love for Luo Ying could make that killing sword that once brought devastation to the cultivation world cease its evil ways.

Qin Jianglan…

He, too, could sacrifice himself for love to give her a chance to start over.

Was it worth it?

Su Zhuyi had always felt that regardless of how others were, as long as she lived freely and happily, that was enough. She quite liked Qin Jianglan now and was willing to work hard for him, but she always felt that if she had to trade her own life for Qin Jianglan’s life, she would shake her head and refuse without hesitation.

This was a deal that didn’t need consideration—no one was more important than herself.

However, for many people, it wasn’t like this.

She thought these people were all fools.

But now, looking at the “fool” lying on the bed, thinking of those “fools” who had moved her, Su Zhuyi’s lips curved in a smile, though her eyes held tears like stars, and her heart felt slightly bitter.

Once on the Wangtian Tree, she’d told Qin Jianglan: In six hundred years, I haven’t changed, but you have.

And now, she had to admit that she, too, was beginning to change.

Reaching out to tuck in Luo Ying’s blanket corner, Su Zhuyi sat on the ground, quietly watching this person who seemed about to disappear.

…

Luo Ying closed her eyes. Her body was so emaciated and thin, she was like a paper cutout lying on the bed—the bed didn’t even seem to have any indentation, as if she had no weight.

Su Zhuyi remembered how Luo Ying had looked when she first saw her at Qilian Mountain—that female sword cultivator with picturesque features, cold countenance, and noble bearing, heroically elegant with her sword like a startled swan. Now, where was even half her former majesty?

Through this rebirth, by coincidence, she’d gained over ten years of life for Luo Ying.

But in these ten years, she’d stayed at Luoxue Peak, barely contacting outsiders. They’d claimed to the outside world that Luo Ying had died ten years ago—everyone would probably believe it. That is to say, there hadn’t been much change.

Watching Luo Ying gradually close her eyes, Su Zhuyi thought for a moment and took out the Broken Sword, placing it beside Luo Ying’s pillow.

The Sword Heart Stone was placed at her heart.

Sword Ancestor was beside her pillow.

“With them protecting you, you definitely won’t have any problems.” Su Zhuyi had been sitting on the ground. She didn’t leave the room, instead sitting cross-legged with her back against the bed to meditate and recover from her injuries while constantly monitoring the communication talisman, waiting for Qinghe to contact her.

“Qin Jianglan.”

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

Little Skull bounced in the Liuguang Mirror: “Little sister, I’m going back.” He could feel his body starting to disappear again, just like last time. But this disappearance was a process. The first time, little uncle had been reading the whole time, and he hadn’t dared mention it, feeling timid for a long while. Now he was quite happy, but also afraid that when he left, little uncle would have no one to accompany him. Both happy and worried, he could only repeatedly remind little sister: “When I’m gone, you must come see little uncle every day.”

He’d heard that only little sister could use divine sense to contact little uncle.

“I know.” Su Zhuyi said.

“Talk to him every day. I’m bringing a little notebook—you tell him stories.”

Holding a small notebook, Little Skull waved at Su Zhuyi. He didn’t actually know where Su Zhuyi was, but little sister’s divine sense seemed to often cling to little uncle, so he just waved at little uncle.

Watching Little Skull continuously wave his small hand at him, Qin Jianglan silently twitched the corner of his mouth. He’d still prepared some gifts, now packing them one by one for Wu’er to take out for her and those friends.

Su Zhuyi sent out divine sense to watch the two of them busying themselves, smiling.

After watching for a while, she withdrew her divine sense and concentrated on recovering her body. Before long, she suddenly heard a sword cry.

Su Zhuyi’s eyes snapped open to see the Sword Heart Stone on Master’s body vibrating continuously, while her Broken Sword had already stood upright, azure light blazing!

Su Zhuyi’s eyelid twitched.

Extending her hand, the Broken Sword entered her grasp. Her expression was stern as she asked seriously: “What’s wrong?”

Broken Sword: “He has come.”

Who?

On the bed, Luo Ying suddenly moaned…

Su Zhuyi saw Luo Ying’s life force rapidly draining. She lay on the bed with an expression of extreme pain, her body curling up, fresh blood flowing from her severed arm, dyeing her sleeve bright red and soaking it through!

Something terrible had happened!

Could it be that Qinghe’s will had been suppressed, causing the evil Longquan Sword to go mad?

At this moment, Su Zhuyi heard three loud clanging sounds—that was Gujian Sect’s bronze bell. The bell only rang when the sect encountered major events. What was happening now?

He has come, he has come? The Longquan Sword has come!

Su Zhuyi infused spiritual energy into the Broken Sword, then backhandedly flourished it and thrust it heavily into the ground. Azure sword intent surged out like ocean waves. The moment the Broken Sword pierced the ground, it let out a long cry—not the cold snort from before, but a roar like a dragon’s call. That sound harmonized with Gujian Sect’s bell, making Luo Ying’s pained expression on the bed somewhat subside and calming Su Zhuyi’s heart slightly.

With Master here, Qinghe would suppress that evil sword.

She believed in him!

Outside, the sky had changed—dark clouds massed, and fierce winds howled.

The whooshing wind seemed to snap even Luoxue Peak’s plum trees, and rumbling thunder drowned out even the bronze bell’s sound. Su Zhuyi extended her divine sense and only felt everything outside was gloomy, just like beneath the seal at Qilian Mountain, where divine sense was restricted.

She didn’t go out to see what was happening.

She just guarded in front of Luo Ying’s bed, hand supporting the Broken Sword, continuously infusing spiritual energy into it.

Outside, what exactly was happening?

With a “clang,” the room’s window was blown open by the fierce wind. The vase on the table was directly knocked over, falling from the table and shattering. The red plum branch inside, which hadn’t been fresh to begin with, withered in the blink of an eye and instantly turned to black ash.

Wind couldn’t possibly push open the windows here.

Wind couldn’t possibly directly absorb all of a red plum’s life force, making it instantly wither…

Su Zhuyi suddenly looked up toward the window. She saw a humanoid mass of black qi slowly approaching from a distance. The moment he stepped onto the ancient sword, Su Zhuyi discovered that the entire ancient sword was trembling, as if an earthquake had occurred.

She nearly couldn’t stand! Watching that gradually approaching figure, wherever he passed, the originally white frost and snow became polluted, and plum trees instantly withered.

“Qinghe…”

Had his will been devoured by the evil sword? Was that now a walking Longquan fierce sword?

A moment later, Su Zhuyi discovered another person had ascended Luoxue Peak. Seeing that blood-covered figure, Su Zhuyi cried out in shock: “Sect Master!”

Sect Master Duan Linshu was covered in blood, his right arm severed. He held his sword in his left hand, spat a mouthful of bloody foam onto the blade, then drew talismans in the void and burned his lifespan in exchange for righteous qi, struggling to slash another sword toward the front…

This black shadow was Qinghe.

He’d easily entered the Gujian Sect without even triggering the mountain-protecting grand formation.

He’d killed his way through, with nearly a hundred sect disciples dead and many more injured.

He’d even charged up Luoxue Peak.

Previously, the Dong Fushang Sect had come to question them twice. He’d always thought it was Luo Ying, not Qinghe, who had suppressed the evil artifact. But now he understood—back then, the cultivators from Dong Fushang Sect and Suyue Sect hadn’t lied.

It had always been Qinghe, always been Qinghe…

But now it was too late. Qinghe’s current state clearly showed he was controlled by the evil thing. With baleful qi surrounding him and no sanity remaining, he’d already struck down fellow sect members, harming hundreds of fellow disciples’ lives.

No matter what, he had to restrain Qinghe, or the entire Gujian Sect would be slaughtered by him!

“Burn five hundred years of life, seek righteous qi, eliminate demons in all directions!” Though already covered in blood, when he shouted these words, brilliant light blazed around his body, and the dark clouds above seemed to crack open, with a ray of sunlight enveloping his head, making him look majestic and imposing like a deity.

Startling sword light flew out, transforming into a silver dragon charging toward “Qinghe.”

However, “Qinghe” suddenly erupted with a mass of black mist. That mist condensed into a sword and directly struck down from the air…

It was as if thousands of people were wailing together, grievances reaching the sky, instantly drowning that ray of sunlight and completely devouring Duan Linshu in the light and shadow.

Su Zhuyi’s entire body went cold. She seemed to have lost her voice, her throat hoarse, unable to shout even one word.

In her previous life, when Qinghe killed people, she was still young and had taken advantage of the chaos to destroy a small sect, making Qinghe take the blame. She only knew that the four great sects had pursued and tried to kill Qinghe but failed, instead suffering heavy casualties. As for exactly who died or was injured, Su Zhuyi wasn’t clear—after all, back then, she was still a small fry at the bottom of the cultivation world.

But she suddenly remembered that later, Gujian Sect’s sect master wasn’t surnamed Duan.

Duan Linshu—he had died at Qinghe’s hands.