Jin Ruo’s mind was a pot of scrambled mush.

Judging by the weapon and the knife technique, the “Lin Sui’an” standing before him was unmistakably his master. But why would his master claim to be Yun Zhong Yue? How could that scoundrel Yun Zhong Yue possibly be worthy of comparison with the mistress of Qian Jing?

Or — was the person before him actually Yun Zhong Yue impersonating his master?

Impossible. Yun Zhong Yue’s martial arts weren’t even worthy of carrying his master’s shoes.

Realizing this, Jin Ruo slapped himself hard on the head. He’d forgotten the code phrase agreed upon earlier. He quickly called out quietly, “Royal Court Jade Nectar Wine!”

Lin Sui’an glanced sideways at him, slightly amused. “A hundred and eighty per cup.”

This disciple of hers — Jin Ruo — was good in every way, except for being thickheaded when it counted, unable to think around corners. He’d actually suspected she might be Yun Zhong Yue in disguise.

Jin Ruo let out a breath of relief. “Master — does this have some deeper meaning?”

None whatsoever. Lin Sui’an thought. She simply wanted to drag someone down with her before she went — Yun Zhong Yue had shown her no mercy, so she’d return the favor. Two could play at that game.

This was what she was thinking inside. But what came out of her mouth was: “Your master has her own calculations. Disciple need not ask.”

Jin Ruo gave a solemn nod.

“You’re Yun Zhong Yue?!” Xuanming Shanren’s face was cold as ice. “I have long heard that the Greatest Thief Under Heaven only interests himself in the world’s precious treasures. What possible reason brings you to my remote, backwater Longshen Temple?!”

Lin Sui’an smiled. “I heard that Longshen Temple produces a remarkable talisman water — one that cures all ailments and extends one’s lifespan. The temple guards it jealously, which made me curious enough to come and sample a bottle or two. Would the Temple Master kindly oblige?”

“Impudent!” Xuanming Shanren swept his fly-whisk with force. “Kill without mercy!”

The Taoist priests howled and charged forward in a mass. Lin Sui’an passed a look to Jin Ruo, pressed her toes to the ground, and spun in reverse, boring into the crowd like a top — right hand swinging the blade sheath as a great cudgel, wind roaring with each stroke, raining down relentless blows; left hand cycling through fists and open palms, swatting people away in sheets with a crackling racket. Brute force overwhelming everything.

Jin Ruo followed close behind, using the footwork of “Swift Wind Shaking Autumn Leaves,” hands full of sneaky ambush tricks, the two working in perfect tandem — one charging ahead with sweeping might, the other picking off the stragglers from behind — seamlessly coordinated.

Though the Taoist priests were many, their fighting ability ranked no higher than the bottom tier of the jianghu world. They crumbled like a mountain collapsing, and within less than half an incense stick’s burning time, nearly half were wounded. The rest had been scared out of their wits and were edging backward, and no matter how Xuanming Shanren bellowed, not one was willing to step forward to fight.

Xuanming Shanren’s expression cycled from black to ashen, then from ashen to white. The fly-whisk trembled in his hand, shaking loose several horsehair strands. “Insolent — Yun Zhong Yue — I, Xuanming, swear an undying enmity with you!”

His words had barely left his mouth when he abruptly yanked a miniature gourd flask from his sleeve, pulled out the stopper, and poured whatever was inside down his own throat. Lin Sui’an could see clearly — this gourd flask bore a strong resemblance to the ones used to carry the talisman water during the day, except the talisman water gourd was yellow, while this one was a deep ink-blue.

The next instant, Xuanming Shanren let out a piercing, sustained howl. The whites of his eyes seemed as though ink had bled through them, spreading to coat them in dark blue. The fly-whisk in his hand became a savage gale cutting toward Lin Sui’an.

Lin Sui’an was alarmed — Xuanming Shanren’s state was almost identical to the assassins she’d encountered in Guangdu City. His speed had nearly broken through the limits of what a human body could achieve. In the blink of an eye he was right before her, the fly-whisk churning the night wind. The silver horsehair bristled and exploded outward, like a great clump of sharp, pale cactus needles, and the killing intent stung her face.

Lin Sui’an didn’t dare be careless. She put her full strength into swinging Qian Jing’s sheath and unleashed the heavy move “Blade-Cauldron Severing Grief.”

The fly-whisk’s thousand horsehair strands and the blade sheath clashed in midair, throwing off a shower of sparks. The horsehair couldn’t withstand Qian Jing’s blade pressure and was sheared clean from the root — blown by Qian Jing’s wind in a wild dance of scattered white strands. Lin Sui’an was elated, thinking that this Xuanming Shanren was merely making a show of force. She turned her wrist to ride the momentum into a chain of follow-up strikes, intending to break Xuanming Shanren’s tendons and snap his ankle bones — but at that very moment, Xuanming Shanren twisted his head sideways and spat a mouthful of blue saliva — a small spray fountain aimed straight for Lin Sui’an’s eyes.

Lin Sui’an was caught completely off-guard. She retreated rapidly. A few droplets of the spittle spattered on the back of her hand, and immediately raised a patch of goosebumps. She scrubbed it frantically with her sleeve.

Jin Ruo stamped his foot and swore aloud. “You call yourself a man of the Tao — you can’t win a fight so you resort to spitting, have you no shame?!”

Xuanming Shanren spat again, then threw the now-bare fly-whisk handle to the ground. He smiled coldly. “The Greatest Thief Under Heaven, Yun Zhong Yue, has stooped to highway robbery. I’m merely returning the favor in kind.”

The scattered horsehair drifted down from the air. A few strands fell on top of Lin Sui’an’s head, a few more on her shoulders, and one brushed across the bare skin of her neck — slightly itchy. Lin Sui’an unconsciously rubbed at it with her shoulder. Suddenly her heart gave a lurch, and a long-absent craving for blood crept in like a wisp of invisible smoke, drilling into her five organs and six viscera, riding the bloodstream to the very tips of her nerve endings.

What was happening?!

Lin Sui’an’s peripheral vision swept to the back of her hand. Under the skin, the veins pulsed with a faint quiver. In the moonlight, the color of the veins was gradually shifting — turning a blue-green hue, as though algae were blooming in her bloodstream.

Good heavens — could that mouthful of spittle have been poisonous?!

Xuanming Shanren smiled wider, the ink-blue in his eyes slowly receding, replaced by undisguised mockery. “How does my talisman water and fly-whisk taste?”

Lin Sui’an gripped Qian Jing, her face entirely composed. “Rancid and revolting. Par for the course from Longshen Temple’s trash.”

“Still managing to talk tough at a time like this — worthy of Yun Zhong Yue.” Xuanming Shanren withdrew steadily, raising his voice. “This person is spent. Kill without mercy!”

The young Taoist priests hesitated, peeking at each other, and began edging tentatively forward.

Lin Sui’an frowned, and couldn’t help but retreat half a step.

In her blood, the craving for slaughter grew louder by the moment, rising into a piercing ringing in her ears that hammered at her fragile nerves.

Kill! Kill!! Kill!!!

To slaughter all the fiends and monsters is your destiny!

All things of darkness and wickedness — destroy them utterly!

Darkness climbed up from deep within the earth, quietly flooding Lin Sui’an’s body. Her hands and feet grew colder and colder, yet the liquid in her veins grew hotter and hotter. Her eyeballs burned as though molten iron had been poured through them.

Xuanming Shanren erupted in earth-shaking laughter. The Taoist priests closed in with murder in their eyes. Jin Ruo screamed, “Master! Watch out!”

“Get back!” Lin Sui’an shouted.

Jin Ruo went “hm?” — hadn’t yet made sense of it — when he heard a crisp snap through the air. Qian Jing blazed out of the sheath. Lin Sui’an launched skyward. The blade light dyed the night sky a complete, brilliant green — like the sky-glow above a land of extreme cold in legend, beautiful and ruthless, and a killing will swept through heaven and earth on Qian Jing’s blade, reaping the blood-soaked harvest with merciless indifference.

Severed fingers, half a foot, a flying ear — accompanied by a rain of blood that soaked into the black earth.

Jin Ruo was terrified. He had never before seen Qian Jing like this. In his memory, Lin Sui’an’s combat ability was awe-inspiring, invincible in all directions — but she had never used this sort of vicious technique. This was not Lin Sui’an’s fighting style. Lin Sui’an now had a ferocious killing intent, brutal strikes — yet at every single life-or-death instant, Qian Jing would deviate by a hair’s breadth. And it was precisely that hair’s breadth that kept those men alive.

Lin Sui’an’s brow was knit deep, her pupils a blazing red, her gaze shifting in and out of focus — as though she were fighting something unseen. Something like Qian Jing — or something like herself—

Jin Ruo’s heart clenched with foreboding. Could Qian Jing have lost control?!

Through the bloody rain and wind, the Taoist priests — livers and gallbladders split with terror — shielded Xuanming Shanren as they backed away frantically. Xuanming Shanren’s eyes bulged in their sockets. His voice went shrill with shock. “Impossible! Impossible! You’re not human! Not human! Not human!!”

Lin Sui’an’s body halted. She stopped the slaughter. She turned her head. Shook Qian Jing clean of the blood. Bared her teeth in a grin. Then abruptly stepped into thin air and raised the blade overhead, slamming it down in a devastating arc toward Xuanming Shanren’s skull.

Xuanming Shanren: “AAAAAH—!”

Jin Ruo: “MASTER—!”

In that instant, without warning, flames erupted on the rooftop of the Hall of Yuanji. Fire serpents wrapped the entire hall in a heartbeat. Billowing black smoke shot straight up into the sky.

Lin Sui’an’s airborne body gave a violent shudder. The body folded and spun mid-air, and crashed back heavily to the ground. The savage grin vanished from her face. Her pupils flickered in and out. She was drenched in cold sweat.

“Fire! Fire!” Someone screamed from within the flames. “Fetch water! Fetch water now!”

The thick smoke swallowed Xuanming Shanren and his crowd’s terrified faces, and also hid Lin Sui’an and Jin Ruo’s forms. Lin Sui’an let her eyelids fall, breathing ragged. “Move now — or are you waiting for something?!”

Jin Ruo paused — and then realized that Lin Sui’an was not speaking to him, but to a shadow within the smoke.

That shadow let out a sigh, and said in a languid tone, “I only went to change into something more presentable, and you’ve already gone on a killing rampage? Remarkable.”

Lin Sui’an: “Keep talking and I’ll kill you too!”

“Fine, fine, moving — and you, little Jin Ruo, aren’t you going to help your master?”

Jin Ruo was about to step forward when Lin Sui’an shoved him back.

“Watch out. Don’t touch me.” Lin Sui’an said quietly.

Jin Ruo’s eyes went red at the rims.

Even the shadow seemed shaken by this — it sucked in a sharp breath. “Follow me,” it said, and vanished into the dense smoke, moving with extraordinary speed — three afterimages trailing behind it.

Jin Ruo suddenly understood who this shadow was, and shot a quick glance at Lin Sui’an.

Lin Sui’an’s eyelids were still half-lowered, Qian Jing in hand. She moved fast after the shadow. Jin Ruo could only follow.

The shadow led the two of them threading through firelight and smoke. The shouting voices of Xuanming Shanren and the Taoist priests could be heard almost at arm’s length — yet somehow not a single one was encountered. Each time they passed, it was by a razor-thin margin. Gradually the firelight was left behind, the voices growing more distant. Jin Ruo realized they had somehow, without noticing, arrived at the rear mountain of Longshen Temple, and somehow wove their way into a dense grove of trees, after which the noise of Longshen Temple could no longer be heard.

Lin Sui’an was strangely silent, not a word. The shadow ahead said nothing either. Jin Ruo finally couldn’t contain himself any longer, and called out softly, “Yun Zhong Yue — where are you taking us?”

The shadow turned its head. It wore a remarkably crude mask — looking half-human, half-ghost. Yet the voice came out laughing. “Sending you to the Western heavens — ow!”

His second half-sentence was cut off by Qian Jing.

Lin Sui’an: “Enough talking! Walk faster!”

Jin Ruo then noticed — the whites of Lin Sui’an’s eyes had turned a deep purplish red. It was alarming to behold.

“Master!” Jin Ruo reached out a second time to support her. Lin Sui’an slipped sideways and avoided him again.

“I’m poisoned. I can’t control it — I might kill someone.” Lin Sui’an drew in a breath. “Don’t touch me.”

Jin Ruo’s eyes went red.

Even the shadow seemed genuinely startled by this. It sucked in a sharp breath, changed direction, and quickened its pace.

Tree shadows came in patches and swathes, sweeping past in a stream of black images — ghostly, like wandering souls. From time to time a dry branch would spring up to block the path. Lin Sui’an vented her fury on each one, hacking them down with force, using this to suppress the raging craving for blood boiling inside her. Moonlight flickered in and out of sight, floating after her like a pale ghost, the rustling and whispering of leaves a running murmur in her ears:

Kill! Kill! Kill!!!

All the demons and monsters! Kill them all!!

Begone!

I will not kill anyone!

A taste of iron rose at the back of her throat — she must have bitten through her tongue, or shattered a tooth. Lin Sui’an drove her body forward by the barest thread of consciousness, with only one thought in her mind:

Fast.

Faster.

Just a little faster.

Go faster to — to — to what place?

Where was she going?

Going to do what?

To see someone?

At last, light appeared ahead. A thread of familiar fruit-wood fragrance drifted into her nostrils. Lin Sui’an looked up abruptly. A figure was flying down the mountain path stone steps toward her, the hair pin at the crown of his head trailing a streak of brilliant starlight through the dark.

Lin Sui’an forced her stiff mouth open. “I’m poisoned — it’s dangerous — don’t come near me—”

The next instant, a clear, deep, warm fruit-wood fragrance wrapped tightly around her — squeezing so hard she could barely breathe.

Hua Yitang’s furious heartbeat sounded like a rapid drumming, thump, thump, thump — thump, thump, thump. And with a mysterious and inexplicable power, the surging, rampaging craving for blood within her was silently ground to nothing, vanishing without a trace.

Lin Sui’an’s fingers slackened. Qian Jing fell away, sending a great, gentle ripple spreading across the sea of her heart, layer upon layer, then layer upon layer fading.

And then she closed her eyes, and with complete peace of mind, passed out.

Side Story:

Yun Zhong Yue: Force-fed a mouthful of secondhand affection. Bleugh—