Fang Ye said coldly, “I told you to stand down! Didn’t you hear me? Do you still remember what you promised me a few days ago?”

Feng Di’s face turned alternately pale and flushed. He couldn’t help but turn back to look at Hu Sha. Her expression was no better—she stared at him in a daze and said softly, “…Senior Brother, what did you promise them?”

He couldn’t answer. It was as if something had blocked his throat. Looking at her clear black and white eyes, he suddenly wondered if he had done something wrong.

Hu Sha looked at him in disbelief and said in a low voice, “You’ve been suspicious of Master and me all along? You also believed those rumors? So you weren’t late and stayed behind—you deliberately remained here to watch over us, so these people could come and judge whether we’re right or wrong?”

It’s not like that!

He suddenly covered his forehead, as if wishing he could bury himself in the earth. He fled in complete disarray, no longer daring to look back even once.

Fleeing in panic, he didn’t know what face he could use to face her again.

Behind him came the cheerful chirping of the Eighteen Orioles. With several crisp sounds, the thick layers of demon-binding rope wrapped around her body were cut to shreds by the Eighteen Orioles, scattering all over the ground.

Because her weapon was extremely unusual and no one had ever seen it before, everyone was momentarily stunned. In that instant of distraction, she flicked her wrist and the Water Glass Zither immediately fell into her palm. Divine light flowed across it, making it impossible to look directly at.

“Don’t let her touch the strings!” someone shouted. Several old men rushed at her from all directions, raising their hands to stop her movements.

The Water Glass Zither sensed unfamiliar presences approaching and immediately shot out cold light without mercy. Cries of pain rang out all around—some had their palms pierced through, others had their faces slashed. Shanghe Zhenren, who was closest, had his shoulder pierced with countless bloody holes, and his face instantly turned deathly pale.

Hu Sha raised her hand and stroked the Water Glass Zither, saying grimly, “Don’t push me too far!”

Before her words had faded, she suddenly felt the ground give way beneath her feet, as if the solid ground had suddenly opened up. Her body tilted to the side and she quickly leaped up. Looking down, she saw a crack half a person wide had appeared on the ground at some point.

Qingling Zhenjun placed one hand beside his lips, as if chanting an incantation. With a half-smile on his face, countless thorn-like spikes suddenly burst from the ground, as if they had life, shooting upward at incredible speed and lunging straight at Hu Sha. She dodged awkwardly in mid-air, riding the clouds. When she tried to fly high and far away, she discovered that the sky above had turned pitch black at some point. The apricot grove by the lake seemed to be under some spell—the trees had grown extremely tall, and layers upon layers of branches spread out above like a great net, trapping her firmly within and preventing her escape.

It’s the power of the Earth Yan Drum and the Wood Hao Bell! Hu Sha suddenly understood, but those sharp spikes gave her no time to think. They came at her chaotically from all directions. She dodged desperately, fortunate to have the Eighteen Orioles protecting her, or she would have been pierced full of holes.

Even so, a spike still cut open her back, and scalding fresh blood fell on Feng Di’s hand, making him tremble again. He closed his eyes tightly, trembling all over, and covered his ears.

Shanghe Zhenren supported his injured shoulder and turned back urgently, “Zhenjun! That girl’s crime doesn’t warrant death—please show mercy! Don’t hurt her!”

Qingling Zhenjun said nothing, only gave him a faint glance. The spikes not only didn’t withdraw but shuttled even faster.

Shanghe Zhenren said solemnly, “Zhenjun! We are immortals—to mercilessly press a mortal woman like this is truly shameful!”

Just as he finished speaking, a soft, low voice rang out from the edge of the apricot grove: “Everyone making such a disturbance at someone else’s doorstep is indeed quite shameful. Or do you think the master isn’t home?”

Everyone turned around together and saw Fang Zhun in loose white robes, leisurely leaning against an apricot tree, watching them expressionlessly.

The people from Taoyuan Mountain all felt somewhat embarrassed.

They had originally intended to take advantage of Fang Zhun’s absence to send the Water Glass Zither back to the old hall at Stone Mountain first, then return to properly question him. Who knew that after all these changes, they would still alert him? Although they occupied the righteous position and had clearly come to denounce him, when each person’s gaze met Fang Zhun’s, their hearts felt somewhat guilty.

After all, they were a group of old men who had achieved immortality and enlightenment, yet they had run to someone’s doorstep and driven someone’s female disciple to the point of bloodshed.

Feng Di only felt Fang Zhun’s gaze pause slightly on him, then move away without a trace.

His entire skin felt as if it had been peeled away—he couldn’t tell whether it was shame or pain.

He called out in a low voice, “Master, Master Uncle he…”

Before he could finish, he saw Fang Zhun’s face darken like water. A golden light shot out from the shadows like lightning, sweeping past his ear. He vaguely heard a deep voice say, “Foolish boy! You’ll get yourself killed!”

Feng Di suddenly froze. Looking back, that golden light had already cleaved through the spikes on the ground with one slash. Immediately after, it suddenly disappeared into the tree shadows. The people from Taoyuan Mountain all cried out in alarm—blood suddenly sprayed from the shadows as that golden-armored deity killed the spirit beasts they had hidden within.

This move was both fast and ruthless, leaving people no time to react. When they looked carefully again, the golden-armored deity had already leaped out from the shadows and pressed his blood-stained great blade against Qingling Zhenjun’s neck in confrontation.

Fang Zhun said in a deep voice, “Strike!”

The great blade suddenly rose, and the golden-armored deity instantly transformed into ten thousand rays of golden light, forcing people to close their eyes. When the blade came down, it didn’t feel like it had struck flesh. The golden-armored deity quickly withdrew his form and looked down—countless vines had suddenly grown beneath Qingling Zhenjun’s feet, tough and flexible, actually blocking his great blade.

Behind them, the people from Taoyuan Mountain cried out repeatedly to stop him. Fang Zhun’s voice mixed among them, sounding extremely cold.

“Strike again!” he said.

The golden-armored deity swept the blade horizontally and chopped down again. The long blade was again entangled by those flexible vines. He roared angrily, “I’ll strike again!”

Before he finished speaking, the long blade had already struck several times in succession, finally cutting through some of those densely packed vines.

He leaped up, the great blade like a crescent moon, slashing down diagonally with all his might. Pulled by the tangled vines midway, the blade’s edge deviated slightly and struck Qingling Zhenjun’s side with a whooshing sound, shattering the bronze crown on his head. Half his face immediately became a bloody mess.

Shanghe Zhenren immediately moved forward to stop him, but suddenly saw Fang Zhun place his hand beside his lips and silently chant an incantation. Several black shadows shot out from behind him—the white paper dolls he usually cut for fun. They grew when they met the wind and flashed like lightning to the backs of everyone, pressing against vital points. The situation was almost instantly controlled by him.

Shanghe Zhenren’s face turned black as coal, and he opened his mouth to curse, “Fang Zhun, you treacherous villain…”

His voice suddenly cut off. The white paper doll behind him had used a silencing spell. The people from Taoyuan Mountain could only move their lips, cursing furiously in their bellies, but couldn’t make a sound.

Feng Di was also shocked into a daze. Turning his head, he saw a white paper doll squatting beside him, looking at him with burning eyes.

His whole body stiffened, at a loss. He only heard Fang Zhun’s cold voice say, “Are you still staying there? Do you want your master to restrain you as well?”

Feng Di gasped and hurriedly took a step, stumbling and staggering forward to fall before him.

As if unable to believe it, he tightly gripped Fang Zhun’s hem and looked back. The previously aggressive people from Taoyuan Mountain all had ashen faces, held at vital points by the white paper dolls, unable to move. Because their spirit beasts had been killed and they were under the silencing spell, they were completely helpless. Qingling Zhenjun had half his body soaked in blood, still barely maintaining a force, sitting cross-legged on the ground and summoning his immortal power. Rocks seemed to surround his entire body—this time, no matter how the golden-armored deity struck, he couldn’t break through.

Hu Sha also had blood stains on her back, her face still somewhat pale. She half-knelt on the ground, panting unsteadily. Maid Number One was behind her applying medicine to stop the bleeding.

The entire world suddenly became unrecognizable to him.

Fang Ye, who had been standing silently in the grove all along, suddenly said in a low voice, “Junior Brother, do you know that what you’ve done today is a grave offense?”

Fang Zhun slowly lowered the hand from his lips, staring fixedly at him and said, “Would Senior Brother rather believe outsiders than believe me? These people were able to find Zhiyan Studio—if it wasn’t with your indication, I’m afraid it couldn’t have been accomplished. You deliberately chose a day when Master wasn’t here. I didn’t think of it before.”

Fang Ye remained silent for a long moment, then said, “This was also Master’s instruction…”

“You’re lying,” Fang Zhun interrupted him, a trace of mocking smile suddenly appearing on his face. “Master gave no such instruction. It was all your private actions.”

Fang Ye suddenly raised his head and quietly gazed at him. After a long while, he said softly, “You… must not persist in your delusion. Change everything. The Water Glass Zither is not something a mortal or a scattered immortal can possess. What you’re so desperately pursuing is clearly an illusory thing.”

Fang Zhun shook his head, his expression suddenly becoming gloomy. “Senior Brother, how could even you…”

Fang Ye sighed deeply, clasping his hands behind his back, and said in a deep voice, “Turn back from the precipice. Quickly release them and let the Water Glass Zither return to its original place. If you can admit your error and reform, then in the future, if Heaven brings any punishment because of the divine artifact, everyone in Qingyuan will stand with you in resistance. But if you continue to persist in delusion, where will you place Master’s painstaking efforts?”

He spoke with deep sincerity, his eyes slightly reddening.

Feng Di slowly moved and stood up, saying in a trembling voice, “Master! Master Uncle… Master Uncle is right! Please… please don’t continue like this!”

Fang Zhun opened his mouth as if to speak, but suddenly seemed choked, coughing violently. Finally, when his breathing calmed, he lowered his sleeve—there was clearly a trace of blood at the corner of his lips.

Fang Ye quietly looked at that trace of fresh blood at his lips, slowly lowering his eyelashes. Tears seemed to glisten within as he said in a low voice, “You… your health is getting worse. Did you overexert yourself just now? Are you alright?”

As he spoke, he slowly walked toward him, raising his hand as if to support him.

When Fang Ye reached him, Fang Zhun suddenly grabbed his wrist and shouted sternly, “Who are you? You dare impersonate my Senior Brother Fang Ye!”

Silver light swallowed and spat from his palm as he made to strike down toward Fang Ye’s head. Feng Di cried out and leaped up. He heard Fang Ye urgently shout, “Feng Di! Stop your master!”

Almost instinctively, without thinking too much, he pulled out the bracelet he had prepared for many days from his bosom.

The Yaotian Ring—a punishment device that Qingyuan prepared for rule-breakers and traitors. Once shackled, even with the greatest ability, one couldn’t break free and could only submit to capture.

When he unlocked the bracelet and threw it out, Feng Di’s mind went blank for an instant.

Only one voice kept telling him: it wasn’t to hurt Master, it wasn’t to hurt him—he just hoped to stop his mistake. Just because he was Master, he couldn’t make any mistakes—as long as he stopped!

The Yaotian Ring spun in the air, suddenly transforming into a cloud of black smoke that smashed down toward Fang Zhun.

Probably never expecting his own disciple would attack him, it was too late for Fang Zhun to dodge. Instinctively, he raised both hands to protect his head and face. Who knew that cloud of black smoke didn’t shackle his hands like an ordinary Yaotian Ring, but instead suddenly drilled into his chest.

Fang Zhun only felt his chest struck violently by something, the pain piercing to his very heart. His heart filled with terror as he raised his head and looked at Feng Di in disbelief.

Feng Di seemed frightened, staggering back several steps and falling to the ground, staring blankly as large amounts of fresh blood poured from Fang Zhun’s mouth and nose without end.

“Fang Zhun!” The golden-armored deity cried out in alarm, sheathing his blade and rushing over. He caught him and saw his face turn deathly pale, his body swaying as if about to faint. He turned back and shouted sternly, “You wicked disciple! What did you use to hurt him?”

Feng Di looked no different from a dead person, murmuring, “It was just… just what Master Uncle gave me… the Yaotian Ring… nothing more.”

As he spoke, Fang Zhun vomited out another large pool of fresh blood, mixed with large clots of purple-red blood, clearly having suffered extremely severe internal injuries.

The golden-armored deity’s temper was already quite volatile. Seeing him like this, how could he endure it? He raised his blade to strike at Feng Di’s head, but suddenly felt someone gently tug at his sleeve. Fang Zhun shook his head at him.

He couldn’t help but feel desolate. “How could this thing be a Yaotian Ring? Would a Yaotian Ring drill into your body? At a time like this, why are you still protecting this brainless brat?”

Fang Zhun couldn’t speak. He only pointed at Fang Ye to the side.

Fang Ye’s hands were tucked in his sleeves. He suddenly sighed softly, and two lines of tears flowed down his face.

“Actually…” he said in a low voice, “I was extremely unwilling to hurt you, but I had no choice. I will never forget your kindness…”

These words were utterly incomprehensible. The golden-armored deity couldn’t help but freeze, and Feng Di was even more shocked.

Fang Zhun coughed twice, revealing a bitter smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly glimpsed Hu Sha running this way. He turned back and waved his hand at her, indicating she couldn’t come over. Though his eyes could barely see clearly, he could still vaguely make out the tears covering her face.

She must be crying terribly.

Maid Number One held her back desperately, and Little Darling whimpered and cried, biting her clothes to drag her back. Finally, she seemed to trip and fall—she was stopped after all. Maid Number One cast a binding spell, tying her in place so she couldn’t move.

Fang Zhun closed his eyes and let out a long breath, forcing himself to speak, his voice weak: “…They always say I’m too soft-hearted, but… toward one’s own disciple, which master isn’t soft-hearted? Moreover… moreover when you raised them with your own hands from childhood…”

At this point, he suddenly smiled and said softly, “Feng Yi, what’s going on here?”

Feng Yi? Everyone froze in shock. Feng Di was even more thunderstruck, staring blankly at Fang Ye—he wasn’t Master Uncle? He was impersonated by Feng Yi? How could that be possible?

Feng Yi lowered his eyelashes. After a long while, he said in a low voice, “…For five years, I’ve been hiding, waiting for the Water Glass Zither to be repaired. Originally I wouldn’t have used this desperate measure, but this Master Uncle Fang Ye is truly unreasonable. For five years he’s sent people everywhere to hunt me down, constantly saying he wants to clean out the traitorous scum from the sect—how ridiculous. Since he wanted to kill me, I wouldn’t show mercy either. I simply borrowed his body for use.”

Feng Di’s face turned alternately pale and ashen, his voice trembling, “You… you killed Master Uncle Fang Ye?”

Feng Yi didn’t acknowledge him, only raised his sleeve to wipe the tears from his face, turned his head away, and said, “That thing isn’t a Yaotian Ring, but a demonic curse seal. Now it’s engraved on your heart, absorbing your blood daily until your blood runs dry and you die… Don’t blame me. If you must blame someone, blame that old dog Qingling Zhenjun. Everything is because of him.”

He pointed back toward Qingling Zhenjun, but to his surprise, the space was empty—Qingling Zhenjun had already taken advantage of Fang Zhun’s injury to flee.

Feng Yi snorted and turned to leave. Walking to Hu Sha’s side, he bent down to stare into her eyes and said in a low voice, “…Come with me.”

He gripped her weak and powerless wrist and gently pulled—his sleeve was suddenly bitten. Looking down, it was Little Darling.

Its azure blue eyes were full of tears, staring fixedly at him, holding his sleeve in its mouth. It suddenly called out vaguely, “Second Senior Brother.”

Feng Yi’s eyebrows twitched slightly. “You… can already speak.”

Little Darling said quietly, “Don’t be a bad person, okay?”

Feng Yi touched its head and smiled. “How could I be a bad person?”

With those words, he swept it away with one palm. Little Darling rolled on the ground several times before stopping, half a fang knocked off. It couldn’t care about the pain and scrambled up to run this way again.

After running just a few steps, it saw a black shadow flash before its eyes as Feng Di rushed past it. Like a madman, he drew the long sword from his waist and hacked at Feng Yi without rhyme or reason.

He must have truly gone mad—mad to be deceived so miserably.

The long sword he drew—what he most wanted to cut wasn’t this former junior brother before him, but himself.

He should have chanted the most powerful incantation, summoned fierce thunder and ice spikes, and chopped this person before him into pieces. But his mind was completely blank, and he had forgotten all incantations.

Only now did he understand that when a person suffers a major shock, all orderliness is forgotten, leaving only the body’s impulsive instincts.

One sword thrust out—it didn’t hit its mark.

The sword blade was caught between two slender fingers.

Feng Yi still borrowed Fang Ye’s body, looking kind and benevolent. He looked up at him with a slight smile and said, “Senior Brother, I really must thank you.”

With those words, there was a ringing sound as he broke the sword by force. Feng Di only felt a cold light flash before his eyes. Both eyes felt a bone-piercing chill, immediately followed by all the scenery before him turning blood red—he could see nothing more.

He still hadn’t figured out what had happened.

He whipped around, and everyone saw two lines of dark red blood flow from his eyes. Feng Yi had just swept the broken sword across, clearly blinding his eyes.

Feng Yi said softly, “Senior Brother, you were blessed with a fine pair of eyes, but they were useless. Better not to have them. Anyway, you’ve done wrong and have no face to see people anymore.”

Feng Di stood bewildered in place, raising his hand to wipe his face. It was wet. He held it before his eyes to look, but could see nothing.

Behind him, someone shouted sternly, “Get back here! Watch over Fang Zhun!”

He turned back in a daze, searching everywhere for Fang Zhun’s figure—still seeing nothing.

The golden-armored deity cursed something. Immediately after, Feng Di only heard the sound of robes rustling by his ear. A hand grabbed him by the collar, lifted and tossed him—he was thus thrown back to Fang Zhun’s side, falling flat on his face.

The white paper dolls originally standing behind the people from Taoyuan Mountain suddenly disappeared like green smoke, reverting to their original forms and floating lightly to the ground—they were illusions created by Fang Zhun’s immortal power. Now that Fang Zhun had suffered severe injuries and his immortal power greatly diminished, they naturally ceased to exist.

The elders of Taoyuan Mountain witnessed this tragic transformation. Moreover, Qingling Zhenjun had fled on his own, disregarding their lives. Their hearts were already clear as a mirror. Now that their bodies suddenly regained freedom, they immediately struck.

In an instant, the sky turned pitch black and thunder crashed continuously—the elders had gathered the power of heavenly thunder, creating an imposing spectacle.

The golden-armored deity was several times faster than them. With a flash of golden light, he was already before Feng Yi.

He hated this person to his very bones and said not a word, simply raising his blade to strike. Previously when he had fought him in Xuanzhou, although this brat had fallen into demonic ways, his abilities weren’t great—definitely not his match.

Who knew that just as the blade was about to strike him, Feng Yi suddenly said in a low voice, “I know your name. You’re called Shen Tu, a celestial god, right?”

The golden-armored deity seemed not to hear, his blade slashing down on his neck—there was no expected spray of blood, but rather a crisp ringing sound that actually numbed his hand.

He immediately froze, then understood—the Golden Pipa had been stolen by this person. He naturally had stolen the power of metal within it, transforming his entire body to be as hard as steel. That blade of his could slay demons and monsters and shatter rocks, but it couldn’t cut through him.

Feng Yi didn’t move at all, still saying, “Because you violated heavenly law, nine-tenths of your divine power was stripped away and you were sent down to the mortal realm as punishment. By chance and circumstance, you became my master’s subordinate and work for him. Am I right?”

Shen Tu raised his blade vertically and thrust toward his heart—still couldn’t pierce through. He cursed, “Beast, shut your mouth! How do you still have the face to call him master now?”

Feng Yi indeed stopped speaking, only lowering his head to place his hand beside his lips and softly chant an incantation.

The more Shen Tu listened to that incantation, the more familiar it sounded. Toward the end, his expression suddenly changed dramatically, and he turned to run back.

It was still too late. The ground suddenly shook violently, and countless giant blades, spears, axes, and halberds burst from the earth, as if a forest of weapons had suddenly grown from the ground.

Shen Tu couldn’t dodge in time. A long sword pierced through the bottom of his foot, blood dripping everywhere, the pain making his scalp tingle.

Behind him came the alarmed cries of those old men from Taoyuan Mountain. The great spell summoning heavenly thunder was interrupted and could no longer be used. No wonder—this person had taken the power of metal from the Golden Pipa. This was no longer ordinary Great Mount Tai technique! Aside from having once seen Martial Curve Star Lord use it in the Heavenly Court, in all his years in the mortal realm, he had never seen such formidable Great Mount Tai technique.

Seeing Fang Zhun right ahead, his heart anxious to return to care for him, another axe suddenly drilled up from beneath his feet, nearly slicing off half his thigh.

Shen Tu’s fury nearly made his head explode. He only had less than one-tenth of his divine power left. If he could recover his former celestial god’s power, killing one person fallen to demonic ways would be as easy as turning his hand—how could he be in such a miserable state as now?

Fang Zhun had suffered severe injuries and his immortal power greatly diminished. What was distributed to him wasn’t much either. Although he wasn’t like those white paper dolls who depended entirely on Fang Zhun’s immortal energy to live, the impact was still significant. Adding his current serious injuries, he truly couldn’t hold on. He barely flew back before Fang Zhun and said in a low voice, “Brat, quickly take your master away!”

Having said that, his whole body went limp and he burrowed into the shadows, unable to emerge again.

Feng Di was already blind in both eyes. Hearing the incessant rumbling behind him and the ground shaking like boiling water, he still wasn’t accustomed to seeing nothing. He was shaken down again and groped around for a long time before finally touching a corner of Fang Zhun’s robe.

He couldn’t help wanting to weep bitterly, but aside from fresh blood, nothing else could flow from his eyes.

Following along Fang Zhun’s shoulder upward, he touched his ice-cold cheek. He had no reaction—he must have fainted.

Feng Di steadied himself and picked him up in his arms, turning back to shout, “Hu Sha! Where are you?”

After calling three times, he finally heard Hu Sha’s voice ring out from not far away, as cold as profound ice.

“…You take Master away first! Quickly! The farther the better!”

He called urgently, “Hu Sha! Come quickly!”

This time, no matter how he called, she didn’t respond. Feng Di looked around bewildered, unable to discern which direction she was in. Fang Zhun’s body in his arms grew colder and colder—he truly couldn’t wait any longer. He could only grit his teeth and rise on the clouds, disappearing at the edge of the sky in the blink of an eye.

Hu Sha had first been struck by Maid Number One’s binding spell, her whole body unable to move. She only felt enormous weapons continuously bursting from the ground around her. Fortunately, Feng Yi had no intention of killing her, so she wasn’t injured in the slightest.

Maid Number One wasn’t so lucky. As soon as Fang Zhun’s immortal power withdrew, she only had time to cry out once before a long blade cut her in half, leaving only two pieces of torn paper on the ground.

The binding spell dissolved instantly when its caster died. Hu Sha leaped up and embraced Little Darling nearby. Half its tooth was broken, its hind leg pierced through, blood covering it from head to toe as it lay there whimpering and crying.

Hu Sha held it tightly and said in a low voice, “Don’t cry, darling. Let’s go save Master!”

Turning around, she saw Fang Ye—no, it should be said Feng Yi—standing quietly opposite her.

The incessant rumbling of the Great Mount Tai technique had stopped. The entire Zhiyan Studio, including the ice lake outside, had been covered with enormous weapons, densely packed like a forest of steel.

The corpses of those several elders from Taoyuan Mountain hung on several long blades, fresh blood having already stained the hilts red. Clearly they couldn’t survive.

Yet the one who had done all this wore a smile that mixed gentleness with callousness, gazing at her warmly—like on some summer afternoon when he had secretly bought roasted chicken for his greedy little junior sister.

Why hadn’t she noticed before that Fang Ye was his impersonation? Such an expression, ruthless yet pitying, would only appear on his face.

Hu Sha held Little Darling and stopped in place.

Feng Yi gazed at her snow-pale countenance. After a long while, he said softly, “Are you going to tell me you’d rather die than come with me?”

She didn’t speak. At a time like this, anything she said would be useless.

Feng Yi lowered his head, as if he had done something wrong, his eyelashes trembling slightly. “I told you long ago—Master is an immortal. Don’t think too much. Now you must really want to cry, right? He absolutely cannot live, because he’s in my way. I must have him die. Hu Sha, you really shouldn’t have liked him. Do you regret it now?”

Hu Sha took a deep breath and suddenly gently set Little Darling on the ground, then sat cross-legged herself.

She said in a low voice, “I only regret that I couldn’t kill you before. But it doesn’t matter. Since Master cannot live, I don’t want to live either. You might as well go to the Yellow Springs with us.”

The Water Glass Zither suddenly appeared in her palm. Her fingers pressed on the five strings and lightly swept across them.

The zither’s sound was clear and resonant, as if it would strike into one’s very heart.

Feng Yi first froze, then immediately felt as if everything below his knees had sunk into ice water, the cold penetrating to the bone. He couldn’t help but look down in shock. He saw that the ground had instantly frozen over with a thick layer of frost at the sound of the zither, freezing all the way to his knees and still rapidly spreading upward. In the blink of an eye, it had frozen half his body in ice.

The sky had turned overcast at some point, cold wind rising everywhere, and snowflakes the size of fists fell densely.

Zhiyan Studio where spring lasted all year, Zhiyan Studio full of blazing apricot blossoms, the thatched cottage still bearing the three large characters “Ecstasy Hall” written by Master—all of this was frozen in cold, hard ice. Perhaps her entire being would also be frozen like this, gradually falling silent, dying in this frozen, snow-drifted world.

Her face was already sealed by ice and she couldn’t breathe. Yet Hu Sha suddenly felt an urge to cry.

It would be best if everything could start over again. She wouldn’t fall in love with Fang Zhun, wouldn’t come to Qingyuan to take a master, wouldn’t meet Feng Yi. Best of all, she would never have known them from beginning to end. That way, nothing would have happened, and even if it did, it would have nothing to do with her.

Best of all, that morning she hadn’t passed by the incense hall and hadn’t eaten that purple rice ball. She would have stayed home as a shy and expectant bride, waiting for that exquisitely handsome husband in the painting to lift her red bridal veil. That way, though her life would be ordinary, she wouldn’t experience any heart-wrenching pain.

But then there would be no apricot blossoms blazing like fire at Qingyuan, no Fang Zhun’s smile like spring breeze, no alarmed and delighted, dreamlike experiences in the peach blossom forest.

Her life had already been stained by colors too vivid—she couldn’t return to the past.

There was also no chance in the world to start over again.

So she could only repeat Fang Zhun’s name over and over in the ice, her frozen and numb eyes heating up again and again, as if tears wanted to flow.

In the distance, it seemed flute music was playing, mournful and gentle, but she couldn’t hear it clearly.

The ice originally sealed around her body suddenly became scalding hot and flowed down from Hu Sha’s cheeks. She opened her eyes in confusion and saw towering flames rising before her, burning a crack through the ice-sealed Zhiyan Studio. She now sat in this crack, watching the front in shocked silence.

Feng Yi was hidden deep in the scarlet flames. His robes were licked and tossed about by tongues of fire, and his entire being seemed to be burning. His hair tips and eyes carried the color of fierce flames, and dense red meridians covered his face, making one’s hair stand on end.

At his feet lay Fang Ye’s already stiffened corpse. By the looks of it, he had abandoned his hiding place just to escape from the ice seal.

He held a flute in his hand that was entirely crimson red, red like fierce flames, unpredictable like fierce flames—he placed that strange flute to his lips and gently blew.

Following that desolate and sharp flute music, towering flames also swayed everywhere in rampant devastation, forcibly carving a cross on the thickly ice-sealed Zhiyan Studio. Even the ground was burned black and curled up.

By this point, if she still didn’t know what that flute was, she would truly be an idiot.

The Fire-Controlling Flute. Like the Golden Pipa, another divine artifact he had stolen, simply the nemesis of the Water Glass Zither.

Thick flames burned on the ice surface. Feng Yi suddenly lowered his flute and floated lightly toward her, flying directly before her. He brought that terrifyingly dreadful face close to hers, his blood-red eyes staring fixedly at her. He turned the flute in his hand and pressed it on the Water Glass Zither she was about to cast.

When the divine artifacts collided, they made a crisp sound. The Water Glass Zither was actually held down firmly by the Fire-Controlling Flute and momentarily couldn’t shoot out its cold light—it could only emit an unwilling, faint hum.

Feng Yi’s gaze flowed down from her forehead, sliding across her wooden eyes, elegant nose bridge, and crimson lips, finally returning to gaze at her face to face.

He suddenly spoke, his voice slightly hoarse: “The Water Glass Zither is now fully restored. Keeping you has no meaning whatsoever, do you know? Killing you would be like crushing an ant—it requires no effort, and there’s no need to be as cautious as before about you being the nurturer.”

Hu Sha glanced at him but didn’t speak, only raised her chin high.

Her eyes were contemptuous and full of hatred, as if they could speak, telling him: Come kill me then.

Feng Yi gazed at her quietly, then suddenly reached out and gathered up a lock of her long hair, rubbing it carefully between his fingers, full of lingering attachment.

Gradually, those densely packed blood-red meridians on his face slowly faded, revealing a somewhat pale face. His eyebrows and eyes were like a painting, his pupils reflecting the blazing, leaping flames, flickering and flashing, actually carrying a trace of tearful desolation.

But she knew this beautiful exterior was clearly false. His gentleness, his affection, his indulgence—all of it was fake.

If there truly was someone in the world whose body didn’t flow with blood but with ice shards, she felt that person must be him.

His face slowly drew near, his lips traveling emptily across her cheek, as if he wanted to kiss her but didn’t dare. Finally, he only sighed softly, his fingers lightly drawing across her neck, placing both a silencing spell and a binding spell.

He looked at Hu Sha’s eyes that nearly shot fire and revealed a trace of a smile, both helpless and gentle. He said in a low voice, “But how could I kill you? Little Hu Sha.”

Gathering her up at the waist, the towering flames instantly extinguished, leaving only the ice-sealed Zhiyan Studio. On the ice surface still remained a long, terrifying cross-shaped mark.

The injured Little Darling lay on the ground, having long since fainted.

Zhiyan Studio returned to quietness once more—not a sound, not a person.

As if… nothing had happened at all.

This year’s Immortal Arts Conference at Wunian Divine Palace in Juku Continent wasn’t very interesting. For some reason, none of the familiar faces arrived.

Jinting Ancestor looked around carefully but didn’t see people from Taoyuan Mountain. Qingling Zhenjun, whom he had been secretly watching, also hadn’t come.

In his heart, he vaguely had a bad premonition. When he was about to hurry back to Qingyuan but felt it would be too disrespectful to Wunian Divine Palace, he was hesitating when he suddenly heard the sound of disciples arguing outside the hall doors, attracting the eyes of all the guests inside.

Immediately after, a figure broke through the obstruction and forcibly rushed in. Everyone looked in shock at the same moment and saw that person’s face was as white as snow, long hair messily stuck to his cheeks, both eyes tightly closed, fresh blood dripping from beneath his eyelashes—extremely terrifying.

This person also held someone in his arms. One could only see a head of jet-black long hair and half a deathly pale cheek.

Jinting Ancestor’s heart immediately sank.

He quickly walked over. Before he could open his mouth to inquire, Feng Di immediately recognized his footsteps and instantly fell to his knees, weeping uncontrollably.

“Ancestor! I beg you to save Master’s life!”

When the people of Qingyuan Mountain hurried back to Zhiyan Studio, they only saw ice several feet high, freezing the entire small island in the ice lake solid. On the ice surface, one could vaguely see signs of being burned by demonic fire, with a strange cross carved into it. The scorched and mottled ground that remained bare was all burned black.

The deathly silent Zhiyan Studio—not half a living person could be seen.

The injured Little Darling was still in a coma. Frozen in the ice was Fang Ye’s livid corpse, buried very deep. Unless the ice melted, it could never be retrieved. Those several elders from Taoyuan Mountain were even more miserable—their corpses still hung on those enormous weapons, frozen in the ice along with those weapons. If they weren’t dead before, they were certainly dead now.

Very tragic.

Even Jinting Ancestor couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath, somewhat incredulously turning back. “Feng Yi… has he already become this formidable?”

Feng Di shook his head miserably. Across from him, a young disciple was treating his eyes. The moment his eyelids were pulled open, he felt heart-wrenching pain. The pain was enough to make him weep, but his eyes could only flow scalding blood.

He said in a low voice, “Ancestor, I beg you to quickly save Master.”

Jinting Ancestor silently nodded, turning to look at Fang Zhun. Fang Ning and his other direct disciples had long ago used their immortal power to envelop him, exhausting all their strength trying to extract that demonic curse seal embedded in his heart. Finally, Fang Ning’s face turned ashen, covered in sweat as he turned back and said, “Master, this seal… is extremely strange. We disciples cannot remove it!”

Jinting Ancestor personally placed his hand on Fang Zhun’s heart. With a slight probe, he immediately felt that weak resistance.

This wasn’t an ordinary blood-absorbing seal, but “Shared Demise.” If the engraved seal was forcibly removed, Fang Zhun wouldn’t survive either. But if it wasn’t removed, it would slowly absorb his blood every day until the blood ran dry, causing a painful death.

Jinting Ancestor couldn’t help but fall into contemplation.

Fang Ning wiped the sweat from his forehead and sighed. “Master, that second-generation disciple called Feng Yi has only cultivated for fifty-some years, yet obtained such enormous power. It’s truly hard to believe.”

Jinting Ancestor shook his head. “That’s not normal. No matter how formidable, it’s ultimately still a mortal’s body. When power increases sharply in a short time, he will inevitably suffer backlash in the future. He’ll always reap what he sows… Forget it, no need to speak more of him. The curse seal in your junior brother is called ‘Shared Demise’ and cannot be forcibly removed. In all the world, only the Carefree Grass from Carefree Mountain in Xuanzhou can dispel this seal. For him to live, there’s only one option—make a trip to Xuanzhou.”

Xuanzhou, Carefree Mountain—Qingling Zhenjun’s territory.

Fang Ning indeed froze. “I’m afraid… Qingling Zhenjun won’t be easy to deal with.”

Jinting Ancestor brushed off his sleeves and said, “I’ll make the trip personally. You watch over Fang Zhun and Feng Di. If any more uninvited guests come to disturb, there’s no need to show any mercy!”

As his words fell, he had already disappeared before everyone’s eyes.

A thousand miles away was the vast ocean, with many nameless small islands dotted across it like scattered stars—the scenery absolutely magnificent.