Starting from the Sky Wolf bite wound could destroy him!
The moment Meng Duo’er said this, Baili Weisheng didn’t hesitate for a second, snatching the dagger Liuguang from Ziqing’s hand and plunging it savagely into the wound!
The Blood Lord hadn’t anticipated this at all. No one had objected, but everyone was still shocked, still stunned!
For a moment, everyone’s eyes fixed on that wound, watching great streams of blood pour forth without pause, while Baili Weisheng’s hand kept moving, plunging the blade in again and again, relentlessly!
Ziqing’s gaze slowly traveled up along that wound, coming to rest on the Blood Lord’s face, twisting more and more into a mask of terror—but after one glance, one final look, she resolutely turned away, unable to watch any longer.
In her memory, A’Li’s face had always been so calm, so serenely cool—she had rarely ever seen him frightened by anything, and never once had she seen him wear an expression so twisted with terror.
This person before her, in the end, was not A’Li. This person did not deserve A’Li’s blood, did not deserve A’Li’s memories.
No one in this world deserved them.
A’Li was A’Li, forever irreplaceable—even though he was gone, she felt exactly as Baili Weisheng did: she would not let anyone take his place!
Soon, the blood spread out beneath their feet, and as the last of it drained away, the Blood Lord’s body began to wither and shrivel—without the original blood sustaining it, a bloodline body was inevitably doomed to destruction!
Gradually, as the very last drop drained away, a resounding boom sounded, and this several-thousand-year-old corpse shattered into a thousand pieces, crumbling into ash.
It was over.
Now, everything was truly, finally over.
Everyone slowly lowered their gaze, looking down—the blood spread across the ground, seeping in, congealing. But right there, in the middle of that pool of blood, lay a small patch of red, strikingly different from the rest—still, undisturbed, not spreading, not soaking into the coffin beneath, and showing no sign of clotting at all.
That was the undying blood, mixed in among the Blood Lord’s original blood—the undying blood carrying every one of A’Li’s memories.
Before anyone had recovered, Baili Weisheng picked up the porcelain vial nearby, walked over, and carefully cupped the undying blood in both hands, gently pouring it into the vial.
Everyone watched, no one speaking. Meng Duo’er suddenly felt as though she’d been transported back years, back to that cave on Yuqiong Mountain in Nanzhao—the same pool of blood spread across the ground. The only difference was that this time, Baili Weisheng was awake.
She couldn’t help but wonder—if he hadn’t lost his memory back then, what would have happened?
If she’d been strong enough back then to save Xuanyuan Lige, how wonderful that would have been.
The room fell silent, everyone watching Baili Weisheng quietly—or more precisely, watching the undying blood he had cupped in his hands.
Suddenly, Yaotiao spoke up carefully. “Father, who is A’Li?”
Jun Beiyue turned back, scooping his daughter up into his arms. “His name was Xuanyuan Lige. He was everyone’s dearest friend, a great benefactor to you and your brother both.”
“Is he dead?” Yaotiao asked again.
“No. He’s always been with all of us. Whenever your mother needs him, he always appears,” Jun Beiyue said flatly.
Jun Yaotiao didn’t quite understand, and looked toward Ziqing—her mother offered her a faint smile.
Just as this time—if not for the undying blood, no one could have saved Buli and Yaotiao.
Xuanyuan Lige, it seemed, had truly been with them all along, every step of the way.
Once he’d gathered every last drop of the undying blood, Baili Weisheng held the porcelain vial up high, tilting his head back to look up at it, though no one knew exactly what he was looking at, or thinking.
After a long moment, he turned to look at Ziqing. “Little Qingqing, can I hold onto this? Just leave it with me?”
Ziqing felt a pang of reluctance, but nodded anyway, offering a helpless smile as she teased, “Take good care of it. If you lose it, I’ll have your hide!”
Baili Weisheng smiled back and tucked the vial into his sleeve. “Let’s go—time to check out the bloodline clan!” Situ Haonan said. At this point, his greater concern was still the bloodline clan itself—after all, their stronghold was right there in Xijing!
If this race rose up in rebellion, the Xijing desert would never know peace again!
Everyone finally began to leave the main coffin behind. Outside, the sky had already begun to lighten with the coming dawn. Amid the ruins, the Wind Guardian, Li Qinqin, and every other member of the bloodline clan had vanished entirely.
“They’ve fled?” Situ Haonan exclaimed in alarm.
“Their coffins are destroyed. Where could they possibly flee to?” Baili Xiaosheng said with a cold smile.
Jun Beiyue patted Situ Haonan’s shoulder, smiling but saying nothing—this man really was too high-strung.
“Uncle Situ, don’t worry, Xijing won’t fall into chaos. Let’s just blow up the whole tomb right now and flush them out.”
Jun Buli deliberately raised his voice—and the moment the words left his mouth, the Wind Guardian flickered out from the shadows and immediately dropped to his knees. “Please, all of you! Spare us! Please let the bloodline clan live.”
“Where is Li Qinqin?” Ziqing asked coldly. “I don’t know where she is either. All of you, our bloodline clan is willing to submit to the Xijing royal house—please, show us mercy, spare us a place to survive!” the Wind Guardian pleaded repeatedly.
Ziqing didn’t answer him, instead kicking hard at Li Qinqin’s coffin, her voice cold. “Come out now, or I’ll destroy this coffin this instant!”
The moment she said this, Li Qinqin appeared at once, her face drained of color, dropping to her knees alongside the Wind Guardian. “No! No! Prince Yao’s wife, I’ve lost! I concede defeat! Please, spare my life, I’ll apologize to the little princess personally!”
Jun Yaotiao pouted—she certainly wasn’t going to forgive her!
“Yaotiao, what do you think we should do?” Jun Buli asked.
At this, Li Qinqin hurriedly began pleading again. “Buli, they say a single day as husband and wife means a hundred days of gratitude. We may not have been husband and wife, but we did go through hardship together—please, spare me just this once!”
Not saying that wouldn’t have mattered—but saying it made Jun Yaotiao feel sick to her stomach.
“When exactly did you go through hardship with my brother?” Yaotiao demanded angrily. All the suffering had been her brother’s alone—this woman had merely taken advantage of his misfortune to indulge herself in every comfort she could get.
She’d known all along that the Blood Lord’s blood could save her brother—why hadn’t she said so sooner?
What a selfish woman!
“Mother, destroy her coffin. Let her never see the sun again, never be able to leave the bloodline clan!” Yaotiao said furiously.
The moment she said this, Ziqing stomped down hard!
“No!” Li Qinqin screamed, but the sound of the coffin shattering drowned out her cry entirely. Soon, the whole coffin split apart into countless pieces, utterly destroyed.
And at that very moment, the first rays of sunlight came streaming in.
“Not good!”
The Wind Guardian cried out, his figure flickering as he dove into the bloodline clan’s one remaining burial chamber, with Li Qinqin right behind him, fleeing in a panic.
“Boss, waaah… waaah…”
Suddenly, crying could be heard. Everyone turned toward the sound, and only then remembered the tall one and short one, still trapped nearby.
“Your coffins weren’t destroyed. What are you so afraid of?” Baili Xiaosheng said with a laugh.
“Waaah… waaah, Master, spare us!”
“Spare us!”
This time, the two of them had wised up, turning to look at Baili Weisheng in unison.
Baili Weisheng glanced at them. “You two should go as well. Back to your coffins.”
“Master, if we go back, the Wind Guardian will kill us!” the tall one said, thoroughly miserable.
“Master, please take us in. We can carry our coffins along and follow you,” the short one added quickly.
Baili Xiaosheng grew irritated. “What master? He only has two disciples—me and Guxi. Get lost, both of you!”