Love curse, love curse.

It feeds on emotion, drawing sustenance from the true feelings in one’s heart, hiding within one’s bones and blood.

What allowed the love curse insect eggs to grow successfully was the emotion in Su Zhuyi’s heart—that was real. Even though Su Zhuyi at the time still carried some denial in her heart, thinking herself heartless and that she loved herself most, that love was nothing, emotions are difficult to control, and her denial was useless.

Her emotion nourished the curse.

The love curse absorbed her emotions, making her feelings dependent on the one who cast the curse.

Originally, the love curse hadn’t been triggered, and with Su Zhuyi’s high cultivation, she wouldn’t be too affected by it.

However, now the curse caster was dead.

Naturally, the cursed insect had also died, and she felt that the person she deeply loved had died.

Su Zhuyi had rationality—her reason told her that the person she had once liked was Qin Jianglan. But she couldn’t control herself. Her heart was like dead ashes. Though Qin Jianglan was right behind her, her heart felt hollow and empty, as if someone had forcibly carved it out.

Her face was covered in tears, but Su Zhuyi at this moment didn’t dare make a single sobbing sound. She bit her teeth tightly, not letting herself make any noise, reaching up to wipe away the tears, trying to force the tears in her eyes back.

But she couldn’t do it.

That sorrow was uncontrollable, the tears even more so. Her remaining rationality told her she must endure, but the pain in her heart seemed to drain all her strength.

Qin Jianglan in the deep pit realized something was wrong.

He flew up through the air, quickly landing beside Su Zhuyi, embracing the slightly trembling Su Zhuyi from behind.

Su Zhuyi turned around. That single turn seemed to exhaust all her strength. She felt dizzy and disoriented. Looking at the refined man holding her, she murmured in a confused consciousness, “Shiqi Lang.”

Her body slowly collapsed, and Su Zhuyi fell into a cold embrace.

That bright silver moonlight, at this moment, was also like frost covering the ground.

“Miaoshe Shiqi is dead.” Qin Jianglan didn’t go mad as the evil tree had anticipated. He only picked up Su Zhuyi and flew toward Shiqi’s location.

The instant he approached Miaoshe Shiqi’s position, the Liuguang Mirror flew out from his body. At that moment, the Liuguang Mirror truly became a flowing river with towering waves, simultaneously engulfing Su Qingxun lying on the ground, Miaoshe Shiqi, who had been almost completely devoured by curse insects, and the evil tree hiding in the shadows.

He walked on the silver river, with handsome brows and starlike eyes, like a heavenly god descending to earth.

Only this heavenly god was somewhat cold.

On his body, one couldn’t sense a trace of a living person’s aura, as if he weren’t a person but a weapon, an object, a cold sword, or even an ancient mirror.

Seeing the refined man cloaked in cold, clear moonlight, Su Qingxun’s mind went blank for an instant. Before her eyes seemed to appear some fragmentary images—those images were so unbelievable that her mind couldn’t process them.

Was that a dream?

A young girl crouched in a corner holding her knees and weeping, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

The room door opened wide, and a man whose features couldn’t be seen walked in. He carried a bowl of porridge in his hands, and she seemed to smell a rich fragrance.

“Eat something.”

She tremblingly stretched out both hands to hold the porridge bowl, but her body had no strength and couldn’t even hold the bowl steady.

“I’ll feed you.”

Spoonful by spoonful, the porridge was fed into her mouth. Her eyes were so swollen she could only open a thin slit, and through that gap, the man seemed to be glowing.

The sunlight from outside gilded him with a layer of gold. His features were blurry and unclear, yet he was like a deity.

“Don’t be afraid.” The slightly cool voice carried threads of warmth, like the sunlight draped over him, also shining into the girl’s heart.

The death of loved ones, the village burned to nothing, being captured by evil people who didn’t give them food and made them fight each other—those cruel, terrifying, cold memories seemed instantly swept away by a gentle breeze. That filth, that wretchedness, that fear all dissipated in the wind, leaving only the person before her eyes who was bright like the sun, making her stiff, cold body gradually warm up, like clear skies after rain.

“I escaped.” She sobbed, her voice hoarse.

“Mm, this is Yunxiao Sect.”

She choked and threw herself into the man’s embrace, only feeling that she smelled a faint, refreshing fragrance. That scent penetrated her heart, making her spirit even more peaceful.

Yunxiao Sect, blessed immortal land, first in the sword dao.

“From now on, you are my disciple.”

“Master above, please accept this disciple’s bow.”

She had her hair in a treasure knot, wore disciple robes white as snow, and held a green wood sword in her hands. The sword’s tassel was pink, the jade pendant on it had a blue tint, carved with auspicious clouds.

Clear skies and white clouds—Su Qingxun.

“Little martial uncle, you accepted a disciple, and such a beautiful little junior sister at that.” A youth’s crisp voice rang out. She stood somewhat timidly behind the man, peering curiously at the people outside.

“The sect accepted quite a few good seedlings this time. Does little martial uncle want to pick a few more? We could select them together—it would be livelier and give little junior sister some companions.” Someone else said.

Her heart trembled. She had been secretly looking outside, but hearing those words, she shrank back, hanging her head somewhat gloomily.

She didn’t want other junior brothers and sisters.

She only wanted to master alone.

“Master, will you accept more disciples?” she asked timidly.

“No.” Hearing this answer, her heart was as sweet as if she’d eaten honey.

“I want to cultivate well and avenge my dead relatives.”

“I want to cultivate well, eliminate demons, and protect the dao. In the future, when I walk the jianghu, I absolutely cannot tarnish master’s reputation.”

“I want to cultivate well, so I can…”

So I can stand beside the master as his equal.

“We’re in trouble—we’ve fallen into an ambush by demonic path fiends.”

“This, this is Soul-Confusing Powder?”

Her body was soft and powerless, even her primordial spirit wasn’t quite clear.

It wasn’t just Soul-Confusing Powder—there was also an aura that made people restless and agitated. The way her senior brothers looked at her was wrong, and she, too, seemed to be having hallucinations.

“Is, is that master?”

Just when she could barely hold on, she was tightly gripped by a pair of hands when she suddenly heard a voice say, “These righteous sect disciples don’t bring their brains when they go out to train—so easy to succeed.”

Then she heard a scream, her heart slightly chilling.

“Oh, several sects traveling together?”

The sound of blades and swords piercing bodies made her tremble continuously, calling the master’s name over and over.

“There are three from the Yunxiao Sect hiding here. Ha, such bad luck, and they resisted my soul-hooking medicine?”

“Tsk tsk, this half-undressed appearance inspires pity. Compared to me, she’s still lacking a bit.” The speaking woman wore red robes embroidered with large peony blossoms. The cultivation world wasn’t like the mortal realm—it emphasized immortal bearing and wouldn’t consider peonies auspicious. This woman had peonies embroidered on her clothes, both vulgar and gaudy, yet her face was enchantingly beautiful. Even though her consciousness was somewhat blurred, she still felt that face was blazingly beautiful.

Her chin was grabbed by someone’s hand. She felt humiliated and barely squeezed out a voice: “Kill or torture as you please—my master will avenge me.”

“Tsk, if not for me, your clothes would have been stripped off by that man beside you. Now you’re acting tough in front of me?” The woman pinched her chin and examined her carefully, then suddenly flicked the whip in her hand, coiling up her flying sword that had fallen to the ground.

On the sword’s pendant was her name.

“Su Qingxun.”

“Your master—Yunxiao Sect’s first sword cultivator?”

The woman’s voice suddenly became especially ethereal. She giggled twice. “I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll spare your dog’s life. When I’m in a bad mood someday, I’ll come collect from you.”

A pill was stuffed in her mouth. The heat throughout her body receded, and she hurriedly put on her clothes properly and awakened her two fellow disciples.

After going out, they discovered that of all the training disciples who had come together, except for a few of them, all had perished.

…

“Qingxun formed a golden core at such a young age—her prospects are limitless.”

“You girl, why do you cultivate so hard?”

No matter how bitter or tiring, she gritted her teeth and persisted, all to get just a little closer to him.

“Master, why did you let that demoness escape?” She hadn’t expected that the infamous demoness would be so fierce. Though their cultivation levels were similar, that demoness had too many unpredictable methods. If the master hadn’t appeared in time, she would have…

But why didn’t master directly kill her, instead letting her escape?

Master was usually cold but very gentle with her. However, at that moment, he stood there with slightly cold eyes.

He only said one sentence: “You don’t remember her?”

Who is she? Why should I remember her?

She’s just a demonic path demoness that everyone wants to kill—who could she be?

Why would master be faintly displeased that I don’t remember her?

…

She, she was Su Zhuyi.

Su Zhuyi from Changning Village, who was captured by the Xueluo Sect, had helped her, who told her to escape quickly.

She had become a disciple of a great immortal sect.

She had become a demonic cultivator who committed all kinds of evil.

She was grateful to Su Zhuyi, yet feared being implicated with her.

She was grateful to Su Zhuyi, yet also thankful that she hadn’t been the one left behind.

Those scattered images continuously appeared and disappeared in her mind. Su Qingxun couldn’t tell whether it was dream or reality…

Just as she was in a daze, a bone-chilling coldness shot up to the sky, completely enveloping her.

She instantly woke up!

Qin Jianglan holding Su Zhuyi was right before her eyes.

“You, why are you fine!” Seeing the aggressive Qin Jianglan, Su Qingxun’s body stiffened, feeling cold air emanating from her entire body.

The evil tree had said his aura was wrong, that he was already someone who had gone astray through demonic cultivation. If he suffered such a great shock, he would surely go mad, and then dealing with him would be extremely simple. However, where was the madness in the person who came?

He was terrifyingly calm.

His pair of eyes was like a cold pool—not even the coldest snow of the deepest winter could match half the coldness in his gaze.

Miaoshe Shiqi’s primordial spirit hadn’t completely dissipated yet.

Because the evil tree needed to absorb human resentment and remnant souls to replenish its power, Miaoshe Shiqi’s remnant soul was still relatively intact and hadn’t completely dispersed between heaven and earth.

However, he had originally been severely wounded, his primordial spirit had no resistance capability whatsoever, and had already merged with the black energy behind the great tree, entangled with that resentment.

The Liuguang Mirror locked onto Miaoshe Shiqi’s remnant soul, while countless cold sword energies, like ten thousand needle points, shot toward the evil tree hiding in the shadows.

His face was expressionless, only uttered one word from his mouth.

“Die!”