—”Shen Jingshi is asking for a blow to his confidence.”

On the way back from Shenyu Pavilion, with wind rustling and rain stopping and starting again, this sentence turned in Su You’s mind countless times. Every word, including her smiling, trailing tone, carried an indescribable sweetness.

Each time it replayed, he felt dizzy and disoriented, then a fear and bewilderment at losing control surged from his limbs and bones.

He couldn’t help but tell himself.

Just one sentence.

It was merely something she said casually.

It wasn’t until that graceful figure stepped through wind, dust, rain, and dew into the small courtyard that Su You suddenly tensed his fingertips, looked up at the dark cloud layers piled in the sky, and quickly closed his eyes.

He felt he had truly gone mad.

Reaching the courtyard gate, all the complex emotions were suppressed one by one. Su You instantly put on a mask, discovering Chao Nian blocking the way inside. He pushed open the courtyard gate with his sword held horizontally, asking: “What are you doing?”

Chao Nian pointed inside: “Fo Nu has arrived.”

Su You understood. He entered the small courtyard and found that Xue Yu and Shan Shu weren’t talking in the study, but were sitting at the stone table in the courtyard with two tall stacks of books and papers before them.

Shan Shu held a tea cup, sipping lightly while seriously listening to Shen Jingshi’s half-hearted report, occasionally asking a quiet question. Xue Yu held the Flying Heaven Map information they had just brought from Shenyu Pavilion, scanning from beginning to end, then frowning and reading through again after the first pass.

When Xue Yu finally set down the book in her hands, Shan Shu pressed her fingertip to her brow and made small circles, looking quite pained, smiling rather helplessly: “These past few days, Shen Jingshi has caused trouble for Miss A Yu. It’s my fault.”

Xue Yu’s gaze circled twice around Shen Jingshi’s handsome, devil-may-care face, her lips moving slightly: “It’s nothing. Not trouble.”

Not really trouble—the meaning behind this.

Shan Shu didn’t need to think deeply to know this person behind her definitely hadn’t been very well-behaved.

“Shen Jingshi.” Shan Shu turned to look at him: “Stand properly.”

Shen Jingshi stroked his high-bridged nose, smiling particularly enchantingly, his voice lazy and lacking energy: “Understood, Your Highness Fo Nu.”

A respectful address was torn to pieces by his strange pronunciation, creating a unique charm when heard.

Seeing this, Xue Yu couldn’t help but look at Shen Jingshi a few more times.

Shen Jingshi neither avoided nor yielded, his eyes visibly brimming with laughter. He was like this with everyone—a boneless, relaxed casualness, his smile making people feel he had a naturally easygoing and approachable temperament.

Xue Yu had seen many kinds of smiles, and quite a few who displayed their beauty before her, but she’d rarely seen someone like Shen Jingshi.

Whether in his tone of speech or the smile he revealed, everything was relaxed and lighthearted, with no consideration whatsoever for status, position, or gains and losses.

In a word, if he wanted to speak this way, he spoke this way. Facing someone, if he wanted to smile he smiled, if he didn’t want to pay attention he simply didn’t.

What attracted Shan Shu was probably that free-spirited, carefree attitude.

Indeed, upon hearing this, Shan Shu sighed quietly and simply turned back to look at the scroll in her hands—out of sight, out of mind.

At this moment, Chao Nian let out an “Aow!” then suddenly stopped, his neck stiff like a rooster whose crowing had been cut short mid-call.

Instantly, four pairs of eyes looked at him in unison.

Chao Nian’s gaze followed down his chest to the area around his lower two ribs, his face showing a complex expression, twisted from pain yet forcibly held back halfway, not daring to fully react. He looked toward Su You, gasping: “Commander, your sword.”

Su You suddenly came to his senses. He rarely showed such bewilderment at being outside the situation, belatedly realizing what he had just done.

Xue Yu and Shen Jingshi’s eyes met. When she encountered those bright, laughing eyes, he didn’t even blink as he pressed his sword tip heavily against Chao Nian’s ribs again.

That blow.

Chao Nian felt his two ribs had been shattered by a sudden storm.

“Sorry.” Su You licked his dry lips, lowering his eyes and saying hoarsely: “I didn’t control it properly.”

This was truly a rare occurrence.

A sword cultivator who could unleash a strike with the momentum to shatter Flying Heaven actually couldn’t control such basic force balance.

Chao Nian groaned miserably, covering his eyes: “Fine, I’ll move farther away. Please don’t accidentally injure me again. One more time and I’d lose half my life.”

After saying this, he twisted his waist and limped over to a stone stool not far from Xue Yu.

After this little interlude, Xue Yu turned to look at Su You, saying completely naturally: “Come over and look at the detailed introduction of Flying Heaven Map.”

But Su You hesitated, not daring to approach her.

It was an indescribable yet particularly contradictory feeling, tumultuous as overturning seas.

If he could still deceive himself the past two days, finding grand excuses for his abnormality, saying it was ten years of confinement, and seeing her again, everything had returned to normal track, so slight emotional fluctuations were perfectly human—

But what about before? What about just now?

He was a demon, born without experiencing love, so he didn’t know what heartbeats meant. Only the powerful instincts in his bones were clamoring, telling him to stop, to wake up, to turn back.

He even had a premonition that in the hazy darkness, he already stood at the edge of a cliff. Behind him, wild winds howled and rain fell like swords. Only ahead lay warm light and safe harbor. But if he took those two steps forward, or even one step, he would lose complete control from then on, with no path of retreat.

Su You’s hand gripping the sword loosened and tightened repeatedly.

After Xue Yu spoke, she lowered her head, concentrating on organizing the books at hand. Her profile was bathed in soft light, completely unaware of his tangled thoughts.

Su You’s eyes held unfathomable darkness as he slowly walked to Xue Yu’s side. His knuckles were pale and well-proportioned, his frame distinct. When holding the book in contemplation, he seemed to naturally possess a calm and composed temperament.

After a long while, he set down the handbook.

Hearing the sound, Xue Yu looked up, gazing at the papers spread before her: “Flying Heaven Map is mysterious and rarely appears in the world. The information Shenyu Pavilion provided is only these few sentences.”

Her fingertip landed on several lines of small text.

—Ten years ago, a painting spirit was born, with a female spiritual form.

—This type of spiritual being can gather blood qi and condense blood pearls.

—The true form of the image can lure people into the painting, examine memories, and discern the past.

Just three sentences total. From Flying Heaven Map’s grand appearance that day, they had already guessed two conditions.

Simply put, this information was too vague and empty. For anyone else looking at it, they would be running in circles helplessly. Even Xue Yu, Su You, and Shan Shu, facing that paper, mostly had speculative assumptions in their minds.

Xue Yu held her tea, took a sip, then set it back down. After pondering for a long while, she frowned: “Flying Heaven Map has the function of absorbing blood qi, but it doesn’t need these itself. So two nights ago, the hundred-plus people who died—after Flying Heaven Map absorbed their blood qi, who did it give it to?”

Shan Shu continued: “For objects like calligraphy, paintings, qin, and zheng, after a thousand years of cultivation and encountering the right opportunity, they can give birth to spiritual essence. They have a thousand years of accumulation and natural wisdom, but whether their nature is good or bad depends entirely on their master’s guidance.” She smiled bitterly: “It seems Flying Heaven Map didn’t follow the right person.”

“Humans cannot absorb such massive blood qi.” Xue Yu turned toward the back mountain: “Recently, the demon beasts in Luozhou City have indeed been restless.”

“So.” Shan Shu quietly reached a conclusion: “It’s demon creatures causing chaos again.”

“In the current situation, there’s only one way to determine whether Flying Heaven Map will stop here.” Su You’s gaze fell on his palm, his expression showing flawless maturity and rationality: “At midnight, explore the back mountain again.”

If the Flying Heaven Map was truly using overwhelming blood qi to nurture some terrifying existence, those who would sense it most directly and accurately would undoubtedly be those demon beasts who had just developed spiritual intelligence but couldn’t yet take human form.

If that were truly the case, as long as whatever was being nurtured by blood qi didn’t emerge, the Flying Heaven Map wouldn’t truly stop. The tragic scene from that night could happen a second or third time at any moment.

Shan Shu looked at Shen Jingshi behind her, who was arm-in-arm with Chao Nian yet couldn’t help mischievously poking Chao Nian’s ribs, causing the latter to wail loudly. Then she looked at this man who could write case reports for Xue Yu ten years ago, and now could force Flying Heaven Map to retreat with one sword. When she looked at Xue Yu again, only envious sighs remained.

Just as one sigh fell, the spirit talisman at Shan Shu’s waist suddenly burst into flames. She glanced at it, somewhat surprised, raised an eyebrow, and spoke three words to Xue Yu: “Lu Chengze.”

Xue Yu’s page-turning motion paused slightly, then she simply closed the handbook, pressing it with her fingertip, and looked up to see Shan Shu’s index finger pressed on the spirit talisman.

Lu Chengze’s voice then flowed clearly like water into everyone’s ears: “Miss Shan Shu, it’s me.”

“Sacred Son.” Shan Shu pulled at the corner of her mouth, speaking politely: “What’s wrong? What brings you to me?”

“My carriage has reached outside Cangzhou City. If nothing unexpected happens, I’ll arrive in Luozhou tonight. Where are you staying? I’ll come directly to meet you.”

When his words fell, Shan Shu couldn’t help but look toward Xue Yu. Seeing her expression much calmer than when she first heard of this matter, she felt somewhat relieved: “In a small courtyard at the foot of Qingyuan Mountain in Luozhou City. Just come directly.”

“Lu Chengze.” She smiled, seemingly casually mentioning: “Yedu’s heir is also here.”

“For this mission, you’re the last to arrive.”

There was a long, oppressive silence on the other end. After a full pause, Lu Chengze finally spoke, briefly explaining: “There were reasons. Our carriage had to make a temporary detour elsewhere, which delayed us.”

It must be said that as Sacred Land heirs, whatever else they might lack, they were all first-rate at bureaucratic rhetoric.

Soon, Lu Chengze’s speech returned to normal, even unconsciously taking on an appropriate hint of a smile: “When I arrive, I’ll personally apologize to both young ladies.”

The light on the spirit talisman dimmed, and Lu Chengze’s smile disappeared like magic. He pressed hard on his brow, crooked his middle finger toward an advisor sharing the carriage, who understood and quickly leaned over.

“Where’s Song Heng?” he asked. “What’s he doing in the back? Still cultivating?”

“No.” The advisor shook his head: “I checked half an hour ago. Young Master Song Heng took medicine and has already awakened from his meditation.”

Lu Chengze took a deep breath, lifted the carriage curtain, extended his arm into the air, and made a halt gesture: “Stop the carriage!”

The carriage quickly stopped. Chi Shui always emphasized rules—the servants who dismounted from the spirit horses stood straight with eyes on their eyes and hearts on their hearts, their expressions uniformly serious.

Lu Chengze bent over and entered the rear carriage. Song Heng had indeed awakened and was reading word by word through the information he had previously collected about Flying Heaven Map’s traces.

Ten years had brought more obvious changes to humans than to other races. Song Heng’s angular features had shed their youthful innocence, revealing some of the divine bearing belonging to the majestic and solemn Heavenly Emperor from a thousand years ago. Every gesture was steady, his speech as gentle and tolerant as water.

It must be said that his appearance and temperament made him truly difficult to dislike.

Even the Sacred Land elders who had always considered him a thorn in their flesh, seeing that he was fairly promising with some small achievements and accomplishments, turned a blind eye to past matters.

In truth, managing him was useless anyway.

After all, Lu Chengze was the Sacred Son. If he couldn’t even protect one person, then this Sacred Son position truly wasn’t worth holding.

“Chengze.” Song Heng looked up in surprise, then smiled: “You came at the right time. I seem to have discovered some clues. Come look—”

Lu Chengze snatched the scroll from his hands, casually tossing it aside, then sat across from him in a posture ready for intimate conversation: “What time is it, and you’re still reading these things?”

“Let me tell you something.”

“What is it? Tell me.” Song Heng cooperatively looked at him: “It’s rare to see you so urgent.”

Lu Chengze looked at this person before him, who showed no anger, whose smile hadn’t even diminished by half, as if he naturally didn’t know how to lose his temper—such a good-natured person. His throat suddenly became hoarse. After a long while, he slowly said, “For this Luozhou mission, Fo Nu is also there. You know that, right?”

Song Heng said, “You told me about this several days ago.”

“Yes.” Lu Chengze’s fingers tapped on the carriage cushion, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, as if he didn’t know where to begin the next words. After brewing for a while, he simply spoke directly: “Besides her, there’s another person also working on this mission.”

The moment Lu Chengze’s words fell, he noticed that the person sitting across from him tensed from head to toe. The gentle smile on his face cracked like breaking ice, then revealed a nervousness and panic as if facing a great enemy.

Song Heng wasn’t stupid. He knew that only one person could make Lu Chengze run to his carriage mid-journey, creating such a scene.

That person’s name was ready to burst forth.

A Yu.

For ten full years, he hadn’t seen her.

He wondered how she was doing now, whether her anger had subsided somewhat.

Lu Chengze seemed to have anticipated his reaction. After a long silence, he said seriously: “Song Heng, back then, you and Xue Yu getting together was something I witnessed. By rights, as a good friend, I shouldn’t interfere in matters between you two.”

“But you must know that now is different from then.”

One sentence—”now is different from then”—seemed to say nothing yet seemed to say everything, laying it all bare.

The color gradually drained from Song Heng’s face, leaving only a bit of color on his lips, stubbornly holding on.

“You and I are close friends, intimate companions. Some things I must make clear to you.” Lu Chengze seemed to know his coming words would be cruel, so he laid the groundwork: “These years, while you were in closed-door cultivation, there were some things I didn’t tell you.”

Song Heng looked at him. After a long while, he finally moved his lips, saying bitterly: “You needn’t hide it from me. I understand her character.”

“Was it assassination or ambush?” He looked at his palm: “I suppose she wouldn’t easily let me go.”

“Honestly, I originally thought so too.” Lu Chengze looked into his eyes, shaking his head: “But there wasn’t any, Zi Heng. Not once.”

Song Heng’s breathing paused.

“Ten years ago, she took a demon ghost from the Judgment Platform.” Lu Chengze weighed his words, trying to speak as gently as possible, but thinking it over, he realized such matters needed to be stated factually without any deliberate softening: “Xue Yu kept him by her side to solve cases, snatched him from Prince Zhao’s men, didn’t hesitate to confront the Human Emperor, then brought him back to Yedu and sent him to Luohui.”

“Now, that demon ghost serves as Commander of Yedu’s Palace Guards, a first-rank official.”

When his words fell, the precarious color on Song Heng’s lips also receded like the tide, forming a gray, straight line.

When Xue Yu spoke up at the last moment to save that demon ghost full of crimes, honestly speaking, not only Lu Chengze but even Song Heng himself thought she was acting out of spite.

No one had such a big heart to experience one betrayal and immediately want to try again.

Especially those in high positions—stumble once in one place, and there would never be a second time.

“Zi Heng, you and I both know Xue Yu couldn’t treat the position of Palace Guards Commander as a joke to casually assign.” After Lu Chengze finished speaking, he pushed a folded portrait toward Song Heng: “Take a look.”

Song Heng silently unfolded the portrait.

The man in the painting had brilliant eyes, a pair of peach blossom eyes rippling with charm, wearing a water-blue long robe. His proportions were drawn elongated and well-balanced, his figure appropriate. Whether that face or his bearing when smiling, everything was exquisite perfection that couldn’t be faulted from far or near.

This was an appearance that ninety-nine percent of the world’s women couldn’t resist.

Song Heng took a deep breath, thinking that even if Xue Yu wasn’t someone who favored male beauty, with the talent to emerge from Luohui in ten years, undoubtedly, she would cherish talent and appreciate it.

She would appreciate this man in the portrait even more than she once appreciated him.

Even if she remained unmoved, slow, and unaware regarding matters of emotion and love, what about the other party? Might he not use that face to harbor inappropriate thoughts, then cling to her, seduce her, use every means to entice her, making her soften?

Song Heng couldn’t and didn’t dare think any further.

“Song Heng.” Lu Chengze grew serious, speaking earnestly: “Since she let you go, and this time she’s out on a mission with Fo Nu to mediate, she probably won’t suddenly attack, but minor friction is probably unavoidable. Don’t take it to heart.”

“Right now, not just you—even I cannot oppose her.”

Song Heng closed his eyes heavily, his spine powerlessly leaning against the carriage wall. After several breaths, he reached out and roughly pressed his throat, saying hoarsely: “Don’t worry, I have sense.”

“If it’s truly as we’ve verified—that everything in this world is happening ahead of schedule—then before the beast tide and the Floating Pagoda massacre, we won’t even have hundreds of years left. When that time comes, with the realm in upheaval and people suffering, in comparison, romantic entanglements and personal gains and losses are truly too insignificant.”

On this point, Lu Chengze truly admired the person before him.

Song Heng paused, remaining silent for a moment, then asked: “What’s his name?”

“What?”

Song Heng opened his eyes, pointing at the portrait: “His name—what is it?”

“Su You.” Lu Chengze sympathetically patted his shoulder: “You’ll be able to see him tonight.”

After finishing his words, Lu Chengze jumped back into his carriage. Once he left, Song Heng couldn’t even muster a bitter smile.

He didn’t even know whether Xue Yu’s mercy this time was because of what.

Was it because she still held a trace of old affection for him, couldn’t bear to let go of their thousand-year companionship, or was it merely because of what she seriously said to him that day about that incident—”Thank you” and “Today’s matter, I owe you once.”

At midnight, Xue Yu and the others pushed open the courtyard gate. Chao Nian carried a beautiful glazed flower lantern to lead the way. The group of five followed a rugged, difficult path to the depths of the back mountain.

The lantern in Chao Nian’s hands kept being extinguished by tonight’s fierce wind, and he patiently relit it again and again, until at a certain moment, Xue Yu suddenly spoke: “Extinguish the lamp.”

Chao Nian was stunned. When he reacted, he saw a hand extend from beside him, casually cutting out a gust of wind that cleanly extinguished the swaying flame while also cutting off half the wick.

“It’s the hour of zi.” Shan Shu stood atop the mountain, looking in all directions, saying quietly: “Let’s observe the surrounding activity.”

They had specifically chosen a position from which they could easily survey the surrounding situation. Within a quarter-hour, they spotted at least three groups of red-eyed, restless demon beast packs—the larger groups having over ten beasts, the smaller ones three to five.

They ground their teeth and claws restlessly, as if receiving an irresistible summons yet retaining some remnant rationality in the depths of their consciousness. When they truly couldn’t bear it, they would fight and tear at each other with other demon beasts, at least not rushing down the mountain toward mortals.

Su You pressed his sword against Chao Nian’s back. The latter nearly jumped three feet high, turning back to look at him with tears in his eyes: “Commander.”

“Go tell Young Lady that when these demon beasts go mad, they all face toward Luozhou’s southwest direction. There might be something fishy there.” Unlike those eyes that looked straight ahead, Su You’s voice fell low and slow, deliberately using a small technique to block sound transmission.

Chao Nian looked at him puzzledly for two glances, scratching his head in confusion: “Young Lady is right on the mountaintop. Why don’t you tell her yourself?”

“Don’t go and you won’t need to come out next time.” Su You’s eye corners curved into a thin line, but his words were particularly ruthless: “Stay in Yedu and learn some real skills from Chao Hua.”

While speaking, Su You had already straightened and walked toward the other side.

“Fine, fine, fine, I’ll go. Can’t I just go?”

“You were fine when we came, so why are you suddenly making people relay messages?”

Chao Nian knew he probably had some consideration of his own. After muttering two sentences, he ran to Xue Yu’s side and relayed Su You’s conclusion, earning a surprised laugh from Shan Shu nearby: “Chao Nian has improved, observing so carefully now.”

Xue Yu nodded, using a handkerchief to wipe her hands that had gotten fresh soil on them: “Have them come back. No need to look further. We’ll investigate directly along the southwest area. The Enforcement Hall can’t be relied on now. Tomorrow I’ll go to Shenyu Pavilion to request some personnel, and we’ll split up to work.”

The others had no objections.

When descending the mountain, the group followed at a moderate distance. From afar, they saw several carriages stopped at the small courtyard’s entrance at the mountain’s foot, lights spreading out like someone had painted a bright, deep dot in the deep night.

Xue Yu’s steps paused, her face quickly forming a layer of frost.

Shan Shu looked at her, also frowning, saying quietly: “The people from Chi Shui have arrived.”

“Indeed, it was time they arrived.”

“Let’s go.” Xue Yu didn’t linger long, returning to the small courtyard along the same path they had come.

Usually, Su You followed inseparably at her side, but now he fell behind even Chao Nian and Shen Jingshi. The lamplight spread from afar, illuminating the gloom between Su You’s brows.

In the deep night, with mountain forests rustling and courtyard lights flickering,

Xue Yu immediately spotted Song Heng.

He stood shoulder to shoulder with Lu Chengze, tall and graceful like jade trees in the wind, wearing a snow-white cloak. Between his brows was an almost water-like gentleness. He looked deeply at Xue Yu, his voice full of indescribable, sighing emotions: “A Yu.”

—”!”

A sword bright as moonlight suddenly unsheathed, falling across the sky with cold gleams, leaping out in a vigorous arc like a curved blade in mid-air, then precisely stabbing inverted into the ground half an inch from Song Heng’s toe, the sword body humming with an obvious warning intent.

This sword’s lingering resonance was long, and its sharp intent unstoppable. Song Heng’s expression changed several times as he stepped back repeatedly.

He looked toward the person who had struck without a word.

The man stood in the moonlight with unparalleled grace, his overall temperament far more outstanding than what the portrait had depicted. At this moment, the upward curve at the corner of his eye carried a seemingly smiling yet not smiling, severe frost.

He stepped forward several paces, arriving at Xue Yu’s side, then looked toward Lu Chengze, his voice flowing slowly: “Sacred Son of Chi Shui, your companion is rather presumptuous.”