Qing Xuzi finished explaining everything in detail, and at once an uproar broke out — the soldiers who had been stationed on the hillside were so terrified that they scattered and fled in all directions.
The group inwardly cried that something was wrong and turned to look at the Ghost Swordsman. They saw it growl low and continuous, its black robes and armor already vanished. Its form swelled to several zhang in height, its whole body gleaming pitch-black. The long sword in its hand transformed into a massive pincer, which it swung through the air for a moment before crashing down with a thunderous boom that shook the entire mountaintop — it had completely reverted to its true form.
It was a giant scorpion!
The scorpion spirit’s body was monstrously huge, occupying more than half the hillside, seemingly without end — utterly terrifying.
None of them had ever seen such a colossal creature before. The instinct to survive overwhelmed everything else, and they all turned and bolted madly down the slope.
The hillside was quite high, looming over the camp below. Many of those standing in the camp heard the noise and looked up, catching a hazy glimpse of the dragon-like monstrosity atop the slope, and another wave of startled cries broke out.
When the Emperor and Consort Yi and the others saw it, they too couldn’t help but rear back in shock, exclaiming repeatedly, “Wha— what is that thing?”
Behind them came a muffled groan from Eunuch Mi — before he could even utter a single word, he fainted from fright and collapsed to the ground.
At that moment, two of Yuan Jue’s disciples were swept aside by the shockwave released when the giant scorpion revealed its true form, rolling quite a distance away. Fearing the formation would become unstable, the two monks dared not delay even a moment, hurriedly crawling back to their positions to help their master stabilize the array.
The giant scorpion writhed in place for a while, the agony of being forced back into its true form gradually fading. Then it twisted its enormous body and swung its pair of massive pincers, striking toward Yuan Jue, who was nearest to it.
Yuan Jue neither dodged nor flinched. Chanting sutras, he struck the wooden fish in his hand rapidly and heavily, like driving rain. The bronze bowl beside his knee seemed to sense something, its golden light growing even more dazzling than before. As the scorpion’s massive pincer reached toward him, it was scorched by the golden light and paused for only a moment before gritting forward another few inches — about to touch Yuan Jue’s chest.
In that split second, Qing Xuzi raised the Boundless Mirror and aimed it at the giant scorpion, sweeping his gaze across the reflected image. He immediately called out to Lin Xiao, “Quick! Strike where its head meets its neck! Its whole body is armored, but that spot alone is the weakest — it’s the vital point!”
Lin Xiao heard clearly and saw exactly where to strike. He leapt into the air and closed in directly before the giant scorpion.
Though the Fire Dragon from the Soul-Devouring Bell shielded him completely, the scorpion had cultivated for a thousand years — how could it allow a mere mortal to provoke it so brazenly before its very eyes?
Its pair of massive pincers showed no fear at all. Setting Yuan Jue aside for the moment, it turned and struck at Lin Xiao instead.
Qing Xuzi had anticipated this. He swiftly flung out the straw rope in his hand — it shot forward like a spirit snake, binding both massive pincers together in a flash.
Its strike having failed, and its body further trapped in place by Yuan Jue’s formation, the scorpion was both furious and alarmed. It let out a piercing, drawn-out screech that left everyone’s ears ringing endlessly. The wild creatures covering the mountainside were terrified by the thunderous sound and scattered in a frantic stampede.
Sweat poured down the foreheads of Yuan Jue and the others as they exerted everything they had to keep the colossal creature pinned motionless within the formation. Otherwise, not just everyone present, but every living thing on the entire mountain would be devoured by this king among demons.
Amid the long screech, the pair of massive pincers steadily, slowly forced themselves apart, and the rope binding them was stretched to the point of nearly snapping.
Qin Yao watched with her heart in her throat — at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before the massive pincers broke free of their restraints, and the first to bear the brunt of it would be Lin Xiao, who stood closest to the scorpion!
Just as her anxiety reached a fever pitch, a hissing sound rang out — Lin Xiao’s sword had already cut through the waves of yin energy radiating off the giant scorpion and struck home where its chest met its abdomen. That spot was indeed, just as Qing Xuzi had said, a patch of soft flesh. The Chixiao Sword met no resistance, driving straight in until more than half its length was buried inside.
Struck by this blow, the giant scorpion’s body abruptly went rigid, and even its restless, struggling pincers forgot to fight back.
Having landed his strike, Lin Xiao knew that a malevolent creature of this magnitude, even at the brink of death, would inevitably thrash about violently enough to shake heaven and earth. Not daring to risk close combat any further, he swiftly pulled out his sword, gathered his energy, and retreated a great distance.
Qin Yao saw everything clearly and hastily recalled the Fire Dragon from where it guarded Lin Xiao, sending it to bite into the giant scorpion.
The Fire Dragon burrowed in through the wound on the scorpion’s body and vanished into its pitch-black shell, not emerging again for a long while.
The giant scorpion, as if its very innards were ablaze, let out endless wails of agony, thrashing and rolling wildly in place.
The hillside had never been the kind of towering peak made of solid rock to begin with — how could it withstand the thrashing of such a colossal creature? At once sand and stone flew, the slope began to tilt, and signs of an imminent collapse appeared.
Lin Xiao rushed to Qin Yao’s side, pulling her along as he said, “This place is about to collapse — hurry, let’s go!”
Qing Xuzi followed close behind the two of them.
Seeing that the giant scorpion was merely thrashing in its death throes, Yuan Jue and the others stopped maintaining the formation, rising to their feet one after another, hitching up their monk’s robes, and running down the slope in quick succession.
Dust filled the sky before them, everyone’s vision turning hazy and yellow. In their panic, there was no time to spare a thought for anything else — each of them wished only to run at the fastest speed of their lives to reach level ground.
A tremendous rumbling sound erupted — just as everyone reached level ground, the entire hillside behind them slowly began to cave in. Soil tumbled rapidly down the tilted slope, gradually forming a great pit that grew ever deeper.
The giant scorpion couldn’t leap clear in time and was dragged down with the collapsing slope into the bottom of the pit. Its body was already burned raw, the flesh split open. It struggled in the pit’s depths to no avail, sinking ever deeper instead. In the end, it could only watch helplessly as the tumbling soil buried its body — by the time it was over, most of its body had vanished into the bottom of the pit, leaving only its pair of massive pincers exposed.
And still the hillside continued to sink, forcing everyone to retreat further to the side.
Qin Yao’s hand was held tightly in Lin Xiao’s grip. Seeing that the massive pincers had already been burned down to half their size, yet the Fire Dragon still hadn’t emerged from the bottom of the pit, she grew anxious and stamped her foot, calling out, “Stupid dragon! That’s enough — get out here now!”
Whether it had heard its master’s call or had simply finished devouring all it meant to devour of the demon’s flesh, the Fire Dragon quickly poked its head out of the bottom of the pit, flames flickering as if greeting Qin Yao. Seeing its master’s impatience, it stopped its playing, burned the remaining half of the pincer to ash, and only then, with evident reluctance, slithered out bit by bit and returned into Qin Yao’s Soul-Devouring Bell.
After the fierce battle, only a scattering of minor spirits remained around the camp. Worried that her master would lose patience, Qin Yao volunteered to take his Boundless Mirror and use it to force each of the minor spirits back into their true forms one by one, then released them back into the mountain forest.
All the while, Lin Xiao stayed at her side without straying a single step. Even when she went to the privy, he shamelessly waited just outside — refusing, in any case, to let her out of his sight.
Once the remaining stragglers had been cleared away, the Emperor’s grand procession set off down the mountain.
Having gone through such an uncanny ordeal, the academy students and the accompanying scions of noble clans dared not linger any longer on this eerie Shouhuai Mountain. They hastily packed up their belongings and hurried down the mountain after the Emperor.
Since Lin Xiao needed to stay close to protect the Emperor, he arranged for Qin Yao’s carriage to travel right beside him while he rode alongside on horseback — that way he could watch over the Emperor while also keeping a firm eye on Qin Yao.
Before boarding the carriage, Qin Yao happened to glance over the crowd and spotted a beautiful woman — she recognized her as Madam Zhou. Standing beside her were two disheveled young women, all three standing bewildered amid the crowd, looking rather lost and at a loss for what to do.
Qin Yao said to Lin Xiao, “Those three women are the ones the scorpion spirit abducted some time ago. They must have suffered quite a fright — we can’t simply abandon them. We need to escort them safely back to Chang’an.”
Lin Xiao made a sound of assent, then lowered his head and gently took her scarred, battered hands in his own, rubbing them softly. Though medicine had already been applied, the bruising was still extensive, and the sight pained him so much he could hardly breathe. He was silent for a long moment before he finally managed to suppress the violence stirring in his heart and said, “I’ll handle everything — you’ve suffered far too much over this past day and night. Don’t think about anything else for now. Get some good rest in the carriage, and we’ll deal with it once we’re back in Chang’an.”
Seeing the faint, brewing darkness on Lin Xiao’s face like the calm before a storm, Qin Yao knew he had no intention of letting the matter rest. She simply nodded and said, “All right, then I’ll go get some sleep.”
In truth, she still had a great many unresolved questions in her mind — such as why Madam Zhou’s husband’s spirit had drifted all the way to Yunyin Academy in the first place, what exactly the scorpion spirit had wanted with abducting these young women, and all the strange behavior between Yuan Jue and her master. All of it sat in her throat like a fishbone she couldn’t swallow, and she wished she could get to the bottom of it immediately.
Most crucial of all was who exactly had pushed her off the cliff. Just thinking of how that person had nearly torn her permanently from her loved ones made her grind her teeth in fury. Judging by Lin Xiao’s manner, he seemed to already know something, but whether it was for lack of evidence or out of caution toward listening ears nearby, he hadn’t revealed a word of it to her. She decided not to dwell on it further for now and would press him for details once they were back in Chang’an.
As she pondered, her eyelids gradually grew heavy, and she sank into a deep, dim sleep.
Not until they returned to Chang’an, all the way to the gates of Prince Lan’s residence, did Qin Yao remain sound asleep, still clutching the thin tapir-fur blanket Lin Xiao had draped over her.
Lin Xiao couldn’t bear to disturb her peaceful sleep, so he simply had a cloak brought, wrapped Qin Yao up from head to toe, and carried her the whole way back to Siru Hall.
Qin Yao only sensed that the surface beneath her had suddenly grown soft and fragrant again, and in her ears was Aunt Wen’s voice, hushed and gentle. Her consciousness registered that she was back in Siru Hall, and an indescribable sense of security and peace settled over her. She had no wish at all to open her eyes, only remembering that she didn’t want Lin Xiao to leave her side. She fumbled blindly until she found the clothing of the person beside her, gripped it in her hand, and curled her legs up contentedly, sinking back into deep sleep.
After giving his instructions to Aunt Wen, Lin Xiao had meant to rise and head to his outer study, but his sleeve was suddenly caught in Qin Yao’s grasp. The moment he stood, he was pulled right back down to sit on the edge of the bed.
He turned to look at Qin Yao and saw that, though she was sleeping soundly and sweetly, her hand still gripped tightly. His heart couldn’t help but soften completely. He waved a hand to dismiss Aunt Wen and the others, then simply lay down beside Qin Yao without changing out of his clothes, gathering her into his arms.
After gazing at the person in his arms for a while, Lin Xiao couldn’t help but reach out and trace the line of her brows and eyes with his finger. Her eyebrows were shaded with just the right depth, naturally elegant without needing to be painted; her lashes were long and thick, and when her eyes were closed, they lay over her eyes in a way that was especially endearing. Because her skin was so much finer and fairer than that of ordinary people, one could even make out the faint, delicate blood vessels on her eyelids, like those of a baby.
What was especially lovely was her soft lips — rosy and dewy in color, full yet petite in shape. Only he knew just how wonderful they tasted.
He lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Unlike the simple astonishment he’d felt upon first seeing her, this face before him now had already come to occupy his entire body and soul — her every frown and smile could effortlessly sway his every joy and sorrow.
Over these past several months, he had cherished and protected her with the utmost care, scheming step by careful step to win her hand in marriage. No one but himself knew just how much he cared for her — if he were to lose her, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what his life afterward would become.
At the thought, an empty hollowness opened up inside him, and he couldn’t help but pull her tightly into his arms. Holding her close wasn’t enough — it felt as though he needed to fold her into his very flesh and bone before the unease in his heart could be soothed.
Held so tightly she could barely breathe, Qin Yao let out a discontented murmur in her sleep, struggling to push him away and curl back toward the corner of the bed.
Though Lin Xiao was loath to part from her warm, soft body, there were clearly more pressing matters at hand for the moment. He carefully tucked the blanket around her, rose gently and quietly, stood by the bed for a moment, and seeing that Qin Yao showed no sign of waking, finally left with his mind at ease.
By the time he reached the outer study, Chang Rong and the others were already waiting there.
Lin Xiao walked to the writing desk and sat down, lowering his eyes in thought for a moment before looking at Chang Rong and saying, “You and Wei Bo, help me investigate someone.”