She was startled and almost immediately threw that person away, but the person spoke immediately.

“Yélu Xun Ru!” she said. “I have a poison needle in my hand. I may not be able to kill you, but suicide might be possible. Think carefully about how to treat me!”

Jing Hengbo was stunned, then greatly impressed!

Truly worthy of being Yélu Qi’s sister!

Guessing she had come to rescue her, she still didn’t relax her guard, but also didn’t act rashly. Her first sentence revealed her identity to avoid misunderstanding and save time. Her second sentence was both threat and test—Jing Hengbo’s reaction would determine Yélu Xun Ru’s response. If it wasn’t right, Yélu Xun Ru would rather commit suicide.

Was this the instinct trained over years in noble families?

“Jing Hengbo!” she immediately said. “Currently your brother’s ally, here to rescue you. Don’t try to use that poison needle on me—if I fall, your brother will be in trouble.”

Yélu Xun Ru didn’t lower her guard, only saying, “What day did I lose my sight?”

Despite the tense situation, Jing Hengbo couldn’t help but be amused by her fierce questioning style. Yélu Qi’s sister appeared frail and powerless, but was actually quite strong inside.

That made sense—if she wasn’t strong enough, a blind orphan girl who had been a hostage in the clan for years, suffering constant humiliation, would have died long ago.

This pair of siblings—one trapped in the clan, one fighting outside, unable to meet yet connected at heart, each doing their utmost for the other.

For the Yélu clan to mistreat such siblings was their own stupidity!

“The twenty-ninth day of the twelfth month,” she answered, then asked back, “Today is the anniversary of how many years since you lost your sight?”

Yélu Xun Ru immediately moved her hand, apparently putting away the poison needle, saying indifferently, “Ten years.”

“No more poison needle?” Jing Hengbo had a good impression of her and teased.

“If you can ask that question, there’s no need,” Yélu Xun Ru turned her head to “look” at her. “Your Majesty, you truly are special.”

Jing Hengbo wasn’t surprised she had heard her name. Since she wasn’t a sheltered weak woman, she wouldn’t give up gathering information about everything related to her brother.

“Where is Yélu Qi?”

“I heard he killed some Third Young Master and went to fight,” Jing Hengbo said. “If you don’t want to burden him, hurry and come with me.”

“Third Young Master?” Yélu Xun Ru suddenly turned back, her voice changed.

“Very important?”

Yélu Xun Ru drew a sharp breath, then suddenly said, “He must really like you.”

“Huh?” Jing Hengbo was dumbfounded. What was this about?

“Third Young Master is the third son of the Yélu clan head, trained by the most mysterious Nine Heavens Gate in the wilderness legends. It’s said that when he was born, the room was filled with strange fragrance—he has extraordinary spiritual bones that the Yélu clan hasn’t seen in a hundred years. From a young age, he was noticed by a Heavenly Master from Nine Heavens Gate and sent to study there. Nine Heavens Gate practices emotional detachment and desire elimination. After completion of training, one belongs to the Gate forever, but is allowed to protect their family. So Third Young Master is the Yélu clan’s hope. Before completing his studies, Third Young Master comes down the mountain for two months each year to reunite with family, which also serves as worldly training to strengthen his resolve. This time the Yélu clan wanted to strengthen their power and ally with the Huangjin Tribe. Third Young Master happened to be home and wanted to see Ash Gray Valley, so he followed… Third Young Master aside, Nine Heavens Gate is not a force worldly power can resist. Little Qi knows the danger—he wouldn’t casually move against him unless absolutely forced… He must be trying to create an opening for you, right?”

Jing Hengbo thought that saying blind people have keen insight was absolutely true. She just hadn’t expected this Third Young Master to have such a huge background. Now Yélu Qi was truly in trouble.

“Third Young Master shouldn’t be so easily killed. Even if his training isn’t complete, people from Nine Heavens Gate all have unique life-preserving methods… Little Qi must be injured!”

“Hey, you’re not planning to save him, are you!” Jing Hengbo pressed down Yélu Xun Ru who was about to run.

“Then you go!”

“Huh?” Jing Hengbo was dumbfounded again, thinking this sister was truly formidable.

“I can’t die,” Yélu Xun Ru said. “Little Qi would lose his fighting spirit.”

“So I should die instead?” Jing Hengbo pointed at her own nose.

“You also can’t seem to die,” Yélu Xun Ru “looked” her over and said. “Little Qi rarely likes anyone. Without his future wife, he’d also lose fighting spirit.”

Jing Hengbo felt this sister was in some ways even more shameless than Seven Kill.

“You won’t die,” Yélu Xun Ru said. “I have a way to get you both out.”

Jing Hengbo stared at her suspiciously.

“Third Young Master has many secrets—oh, people from Nine Heavens Gate always have many secrets. People with many secrets are paranoid. Third Young Master doesn’t like being served but can’t go without service, so the only person serving him is me,” Yélu Xun Ru said. “He thinks a blind person can’t see anything, but doesn’t know a ten-year blind person has senses keener than a mole. I know his room has a secret door. Though I’m not certain where it leads, it definitely exits the mansion.”

“You’re still sending us to our deaths. Third Young Master’s room must be the most heavily guarded place. Can we even get in?”

“I said people from Nine Heavens Gate have many strange methods. Their death may not be death—feigned death is common. To recover from feigned death, one must be in an extremely quiet and stable environment. So if he’s dead, his room will definitely have the least guards right now. What you really need to be careful of isn’t the guards, but Third Young Master in his feigned death state.”

“How do you know so much? Third Young Master certainly wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I read books,” Yélu Xun Ru said. “Who told them to use such thick ink when writing? One touch and I know!”

Jing Hengbo looked at her pale face and suddenly said, “You seem to have health problems.”

“Poisoned,” Yélu Xun Ru said as if discussing someone else.

“How?”

“People from Nine Heavens Gate are too evil. Most of their things have problems, even their ink is poisonous. I touched those inked words to read their secrets, and over time got poisoned. Maybe Third Young Master knows I peek at his things and deliberately pretends not to know, waiting for me to be poisoned and beg him. He likes seeing people panic and kneel before him begging for mercy. But I won’t beg him. I’ll keep reading. If he wants to act noble and aloof, let him act. I love courting death—so what?” She sneered and proudly showed her fingers to Jing Hengbo. “Touching ink causes poisoning. I can’t feel anything with gloves, so after each reading session, I scrape off the skin from my fingertips. But the poison still slowly seeps in. Well, I don’t think I’ll live long. Don’t tell Little Qi.”

Jing Hengbo looked at her ten… no, nine fingers. Each fingertip was damaged, scarred and pitted. Some fingers were almost gone.

Her right pinkie was completely missing—cut off, the one used earlier to intimidate Yélu Qi.

She hadn’t mentioned it at all.

Her palms were delicate, fingers slender—originally should have been beautiful hands, now shocking to behold.

Jing Hengbo took a breath, not knowing if what she felt was pain or sorrow. Full emotions seemed to surge to her heart, rush to her throat, burst from her eyes.

She thought in this life she would never be moved or shocked again, yet at this moment facing these terrifyingly scarred hands, she was nearly speechless.

The word “great”—she had originally found it absurd, thinking no one could deserve it. Yet now she wanted to give it to this damaged blind woman. To these siblings.

He endured humiliation for her in Imperial Song, walking on thin ice, selling his life.

She suffered endless humiliation for him in the clan, struggling to survive, fighting with her life.

They couldn’t say who protected whom, who sacrificed for whom, because each was desperately living for the other.

Using all their strength, grinding their teeth to powder, covered in wounds.

“I’ll get you out first,” she said.

Yélu Xun Ru didn’t demand to fight alongside them. She was a very clear-minded woman. So clear-minded that when Jing Hengbo carried her and teleported three times to the wall, she didn’t cry out, even leisurely saying, “Not bad lightness skills—barely worthy of Little Qi.”

Jing Hengbo felt quite depressed hearing this. She waved her hand and roughly sent her over the high wall.

While flying through the air, Yélu Xun Ru didn’t forget to look down and continue, “This move is even better, worthy of…”

The words “Little Qi” were swept away by wind and snow. Jing Hengbo then heard a heavy thud from outside the wall, a faint “ow” from that formidable woman, but footsteps quickly followed, moving away rapidly. She must have immediately found a place to hide.

Jing Hengbo believed she could hide well.

She felt quite satisfied, chuckling and shrugging.

“That move was too good—your Little Qi isn’t worthy!”

…

Finding Yélu Qi was easy—wherever the most people were.

Jing Hengbo flashed again and reached that noisy location.

Snow swirled violently in the distance, with shadowy figures crisscrossing. Before she got close, fierce winds swept snow pellets into her face, along with some hot liquid. She wiped it—her hand was bright red, though she didn’t know whose blood it was.

Looking up, she saw the rooftop seemed to be boiling. Yélu Qi was like a great whirlpool, with howling winds making it impossible to see clearly. Occasionally she could see Feifei’s small white form darting in and out, seemingly cooperating well with Yélu Qi. Each time it flashed, someone fell down. Those who fell were dead—the courtyard was littered with corpses.

All the mansion’s people had been drawn by Yélu Qi, surrounding so tightly not even a fly could enter. Jing Hengbo couldn’t even see where Yélu Qi was.

She didn’t care. Her figure flashed, charging directly into the rooftop battle.

“I’m here! Come close to me!”

The next moment her arm was gripped tightly by a powerful hand. Yélu Qi pulled her quickly aside, dodging a hidden weapon. His voice carried slight anxiety, “Careful! How are you? Are you hurt?”

Jing Hengbo was quite surprised he hadn’t first asked about his sister.

“Your sister is fine,” she said, stabbing at an approaching enemy with her dagger. The angle was tricky—that person hurriedly rolled away.

Yélu Qi said “Mm,” then suddenly said, “Please, take her and leave first. I’ll follow shortly…”

“You’ll follow by dying here?” she cut off his words.

Yélu Qi seemed to smile, or perhaps sigh, “Is it worth it?”

Her gaze pierced through tonight’s wind and snow.

“Tonight all these people must die,” she said. “You killed that Third Young Master. If news gets out, it’ll be huge trouble. We must kill to silence them.”

“The garrison has been alerted.” He squinted, his gaze piercing the wind and snow to see distant swaying orange lanterns approaching.

She smiled.

“Then let’s kill them all before the garrison arrives!”

…

Slaughter was always both the most difficult and simplest thing.

Yélu Qi was known as one of the Yélu clan’s most outstanding descendants in a hundred years. For years in Imperial Song he had actually been hiding his true strength, plus he had been constrained by hostage concerns. When he truly unleashed his killing intent, those skilled guards could only await slaughter.

Add the ghostly Jing Hengbo, Feifei with its natural bewitching abilities, and killing opportunities that appeared at their sides—stones suddenly dropping from above, blades suddenly emerging from behind, roof tiles suddenly lifting up. Each strike came unexpectedly, each seemed minor, but in fierce combat was enough to seize the initiative, even cause death.

As fighting continued, more and more died mysteriously. Many fighters grew increasingly frightened, beginning to suspect whether Yélu Qi had supernatural aid, or whether that green-robed, loose-haired woman was a ghost—so beautiful, so ethereal, having killed so many yet still seeming to smile.

People fell like snowflakes, landing to melt into silent mud. Soon only four elders remained on the rooftop, dressed like the Grand Scholar who had humiliated Yélu Qi—they must be of the same level, thus particularly difficult to handle.

“Bang!” Jing Hengbo and Yélu Qi crashed back-to-back, both breathing heavily.

“You should go,” Yélu Qi urged for the fourth time, his voice slightly tender. “Only four left—I can finish them in one move.”

“Then collapse from exhaustion and injury, to be captured by the garrison surrounding this place?” she laughed.

“Your brain isn’t working well tonight,” he laughed. “Hurry up and remember—I’m your enemy. How many times have I harmed you? Have you forgotten? Risking your life to save me? Aren’t you afraid Gong Yin will mock you later? With this temperament, how will you compete with him for the world, how will you get revenge?”

Hearing that name, she trembled slightly.

Her heart felt as if seared by fire—a sharp hiss, burning pain.

There was also a hiss in front of her. She looked up to see an elder attacking, his black sword trembling like a viper’s tongue.

Due to distraction, due to the pain in her heart, when she tried to dodge, she suddenly froze.

She couldn’t teleport!

The sword was about to reach her face!

Her body was suddenly pulled forcefully, spun one hundred eighty degrees, then she felt pain in her shoulder. Looking down, she saw a sword tip scraping across her shoulder, drawing blood.

This angle…

Behind her was Yélu Qi’s back. With one spin, he had taken her place, standing before the sword point.

At that moment he had no time for any other action…

She turned her head and indeed saw that sword still embedded in his back, piercing through.

If they hadn’t switched positions just now, that position would have pierced straight through her heart.

The elder who succeeded in his sneak attack laughed wildly, about to call his companions to pursue the desperate prey.

Yélu Qi suddenly reached out—crack—and broke the sword with bare hands, then flung it.

Half the broken sword shot out like lightning, piercing the elder’s chest with a hiss.

The elder’s half-formed smile froze as his body fell backward. Perhaps Yélu Qi’s strength was insufficient due to injury—he didn’t seem fatally wounded, still able to flip face-down while falling, preparing to push off the ground and leap up again.

On the rooftop, Jing Hengbo suddenly waved her hand.

That elder was face-down, directly facing a companion’s corpse. Such people naturally wouldn’t fear corpses, about to push against the body.

The corpse suddenly raised its hand—the sword still gripped in death pierced his heart!

Blood splattered.

A new corpse crashed to the ground.

The dying elder’s expression was horrified—why would his already-dead companion still kill?

The other three also saw this scene, instantly so shocked their blood froze, bodies stiffening.

In that moment, Yélu Qi, Jing Hengbo, and Feifei simultaneously flashed.

Yélu Qi’s palm struck the eastern elder’s face, which immediately caved in grotesquely.

Jing Hengbo’s dagger was like a viper, stabbing and flicking—the western elder’s throat spurted a blood fountain.

Feifei’s claw went straight into the southern elder’s mouth. When it emerged, that person’s entire face was black.

The rooftop returned to silence, the entire courtyard quieted.

This was now a death yard. In this half hour, all the experts the Yélu clan had sent to Beixin City were annihilated.

Only two people and one beast faced corpses scattered from rooftop to ground.

Wind and snow remained fierce. In the howling wind came orderly footsteps—infantry. In the distance, faint hoofbeats shook the ground, making roof tiles tremble slightly—cavalry.

Earlier, when the Yélu clan was being slaughtered by Yélu Qi, they had already sent up distress flares. Now Beixin City’s garrison had arrived.

Originally this remote small city had limited garrison, but unfortunately, because the Huangjin Tribe chief wanted to develop Ash Gray Valley, he had secretly arrived at this small city personally, bringing considerable royal guards.

Looking down from above, the entire mansion was completely surrounded. No matter which direction they broke out from, they would face countless troops.

Yélu Qi glanced around, his expression calm, then suddenly raised his hand to pull out the sword.

The sound of the blade scraping through bone made Jing Hengbo’s teeth ache.

How much pain must that be? She didn’t know. She only saw this man’s resolute expression at this moment, suddenly realizing that deep down, he was equally a stubborn and cold man.

Those cruel to themselves could be more cruel to others.

Blood sprayed on her face. She could only hastily tear her clothing to bandage his penetrating wound, very worried such injuries might cause blood poisoning, whispering, “Do you still have Heavenly Fragrance Purple? Take one?”

Yélu Qi smiled slightly.

“I took one earlier,” he said. “After taking the highest grade, more are useless. Taking more would be waste. No need.”

Jing Hengbo looked at his instantly pallid complexion, feeling he must be lying.

The liar showed no guilt and didn’t avoid her gaze. Looking around, he chose the corner with the most people and moved.

Jing Hengbo caught him in time.

“Don’t sacrifice yourself again to buy me time,” she said. “We’ll take another path.”

…

The Queen’s chambers in Imperial Song lay quiet in wind and snow. Dim lamplight couldn’t illuminate the expressions of the man and woman facing each other.

Gong Yin gazed at Ming City, slowly bending down, extending his fingertip.

She smiled more seductively and foolishly, her upturned chin revealing a snow-white arc, vaguely showing a line of cleavage, enticing further exploration.

Only her body posture was somewhat strange, one hand somewhat awkwardly placed on her lower abdomen.

His gaze was slightly hazy as he bent down, cold fragrance approaching. His fingertip lightly touched her cheek.

She seemed somewhat relaxed, instinctively raising her hand to meet his fingers.

The moment she raised her hand, Gong Yin’s finger on her cheek suddenly shot down like lightning.

Landing on her lower abdomen!

She changed color, hurrying to block, but then came a “hiss.”

His gentle fingertip suddenly became a vajra finger, unhesitatingly piercing through her belly!

Blood splattered.

Agonized screams rang out sharply, like flying swords shattering the night’s chaotic snowflakes.

Blood drops splashed on his face. He didn’t dodge, his fingers quickly exploring that bloody wound, two fingers pinching and pulling.

“Ah!”

Ming City’s screams no longer sounded human, like countless dead trees breaking under tremendous force. Palace servants outside huddled in corners, trembling as they watched the black sky with its wild dancing snowflakes, feeling this night’s shrieking would forever be a source of nightmares.

Inside the palace.

Blood-faced Gong Yin slowly raised his two fingers, pinching a bloody, small jade seal.

The Queen’s jade seal.

Legend said the Queen’s jade seal was as large as a palm, but only he knew it was merely the size of a pastry.

Hidden in her abdomen—truly a good method that forced him to converse with this woman and dirtied his hands.

The stool overturned. Ming City collapsed on the ground, convulsing and twitching as blood slowly spread beneath her.

Broken moans escaped her throat.

He looked at the jade seal, saying indifferently, “You rarely didn’t lie. The jade seal was indeed on your person.”

She spasmed, only hating why she had to encounter this man in this lifetime.

So powerful it made her despair—even in his weakest moment, he remained a god in heaven.

He didn’t even glance at her, disgustedly throwing the jade seal into the water basin. After a moment he retrieved the clean seal, glanced at the basin, and said flatly, “Using such low-level methods to bewitch me—you truly live more backwards with age.”

Then he casually took the paper she had used to write the edict and wiped the jade seal dry. He crumpled the freshly written edict to relocate Jing Hengbo into a ball and threw it into the water basin.

The ink gradually blurred into a mass, then he poured out the basin’s water, destroyed the ink-stained paper, pocketed the jade seal, and left.

The palace door opened, wind and snow poured in.

He stood at the doorway, feeling this night’s snow was as cold as that night.

That night of wind and snow, I dealt you the heaviest blow.

This night of wind and snow, I also gave her a killing blow.

Do you know?

He raised his face. The snow was so cold, cold enough to steal away the limited life and warmth from within a person’s body.

Behind him came faint moaning and weeping.

He crossed the threshold, his snow-white robes bearing not a trace of blood.

“Summon the imperial physician to care for the Queen,” came the voice of the distant figure, devoid of any emotion. “Before her wounds heal, she is not permitted to leave her chambers, nor is anyone allowed to disturb her. To avoid excessive noise disturbing the Queen’s recovery, palace attendants shall be reduced to two.”

The palace fell silent, then wailing arose.

But he was already gone.

On this night of wind and snow, no one returned.

…

With a soft whoosh, two figures landed in a secluded small courtyard.

Yélu Qi stumbled upon landing, and Jing Hengbo steadied him.

“This seems to be the Third Young Master’s residence. After I killed him, they carried him in this direction,” Yélu Qi said.

Jing Hengbo sincerely admired that he could still notice which direction a corpse was carried during such intense siege, and resolved to learn this skill.

“Your sister said we can leave through here.”

Indeed, Yélu Qi, who had looked completely disapproving, followed her without another word.

The small courtyard was very quiet—unusually quiet, and particularly cold. Though it was already cold on this snowy night, she still felt the temperature here seemed even lower.

The courtyard had inner and outer sections. The outer section had servants, whom Yélu Qi dispatched with a wave of his sleeve.

Jing Hengbo didn’t stop him. She knew these might be innocent civilians, but being here now, they had no choice but to kill them.

Many things had no boundary between justice and darkness—sometimes principles had to be abandoned for the greater good.

Upon entering the small courtyard, she exclaimed in surprise.

Wind and snow had vanished. The courtyard seemed to have an energy field that shut out wind and snow, creating a vacuum zone.

Like the barrier feeling from fantasy novels.

She didn’t know how the courtyard’s master could still manage this after dying.

Jing Hengbo felt this energy field, experiencing a strange sense of familiarity. It seemed Gong Yin’s former chambers had once given her a similar feeling.

No, it was different.

Gong Yin’s chambers had invisible walls that no one could cross.

Here only blocked wind and snow—people could enter freely.

Without snow in the courtyard, it remained very cold. She helped Yélu Qi inside, following Yélu Xun Ru’s directions to find the legendary study with the secret door.

Opening the study door, she immediately stepped back.

So cold.

So chaotic.

Inside the room, snow swirled wildly with dancing snowflakes.

The outside snow wasn’t blocked—it had all been drawn into this room.

Though snowflakes danced, they made no sound. Indeed as Xun Ru said, very quiet—a vacuum-like feeling.

After watching for a while, she saw an ice coffin in the center of the swirling snow.

Hard to imagine a coffin appearing here. Without question, the Third Young Master lay inside. Strangely, he couldn’t have predicted his own death yet had brought a coffin with him.

The study wasn’t large—rectangular shaped. The secret door was opposite, with the coffin blocking the center. To reach the secret door, they had to pass by the coffin.

Though it was a corpse, Jing Hengbo remembered Xun Ru’s warning—perhaps all those previous enemies weren’t truly enemies. This one might be the most deadly.

But they couldn’t go around. Sounds came from outside—chaotic footsteps as garrison troops had stormed into the mansion.

Beside her, Yélu Qi’s breathing grew weaker. Jing Hengbo heard his ragged breathing and knew his condition must be worse than he showed.

Earlier, to create an opening for her, he had drawn so much attention. He must have injuries beyond what she could see.

The smell of blood grew thicker, but no wounds were visible. Only now did she understand why Yélu Qi had removed his cloak to wear only black clothing.

“Let’s go.” She supported Yélu Qi forward, with Feifei scouting ahead.

Feifei’s scouting was useless—it slipped past in a flash, seemingly very wary of that coffin.

Jing Hengbo walked beside the coffin, wanting Yélu Qi to take the outer edge, but he turned his arm and switched her to the outside, just as he had turned her to escape the sword earlier.

“Let me check if this fellow is truly dead,” he said softly.

The coffin lid was open with swirling snowflakes and condensed ice inside. Jing Hengbo peered in, vaguely seeing a gaunt youth with pale, thin lips. Even with closed eyes, his expression appeared arrogant.

“Where did you wound him?” she whispered, thinking this person looked completely dead. Xun Ru’s claims seemed too bizarre.

“Pierced through the heart,” Yélu Qi answered.

Footsteps outside grew closer. Neither had time to look further and hurried past.

Nothing happened. No resurrection occurred.

Jing Hengbo nearly exhaled in relief. At the wall, following Yélu Xun Ru’s instructions to find the secret door, she couldn’t locate it immediately. Xun Ru said splashing water on the wall would reveal markings, but after splashing water from the basin, the wall remained a wall.

Footsteps approached as someone called, “Something’s odd here—search it too!”

Jing Hengbo grew anxious—nothing outside could block people now. With pursuers behind and a wall ahead, plus a zombie beside them, if they were trapped here, Xun Ru would be doomed.

She felt along the wall inch by inch, searching for markings. Where were they? If water didn’t work, would other liquids? Could Yélu Qi urinate on it?

“The servants here are also dead! There might be people inside!” The voices grew nearer.

A snowflake hit her face, making her shiver. Jing Hengbo suddenly realized something.

Snowflakes!

Simultaneously, Yélu Qi said, “There are many snowflakes here.”

They looked at each other, both seeing wisdom spark in the other’s eyes.

Jing Hengbo instantly understood.

Temperature!

Xun Ru said using water would reveal wall markings under normal temperatures, but now this place had become the Third Young Master’s healing sanctuary, absorbing wind and snow, lowering the temperature. Water should no longer be effective.

Since water revealed markings by utilizing temperature—a temperature lower than normal—what was colder than water?

Ice.

Jing Hengbo rushed to the window to gather ice, but tonight’s wind and snow were blocked outside the courtyard. There was no ice anywhere around.

Yélu Qi coughed once, his gaze shifting. Jing Hengbo also saw it—there was ice after all.

In that mist-shrouded coffin.

Reach into this deadly coffin to get ice?

Jing Hengbo felt the difficulty was probably equivalent to reaching into a zombie’s mouth to retrieve burial goods.

Before she could move, Yélu Qi had already reached in first, laughing, “Women might trigger resurrection. Don’t scare me.”

He scooped out ice. Jing Hengbo watched fearfully, afraid that pale-faced corpse would suddenly open its mouth and bite down…

Fortunately, nothing happened. When Jing Hengbo received the ice, she noticed his fingers were stiff and cold white, his nails completely bloodless. This hand condition was so familiar it alarmed her. If she wasn’t certain this was Yélu Qi, she might have thought she was seeing Gong Yin’s hands.

With Yélu Qi’s martial arts, even severely injured, holding ice shouldn’t produce this condition.

But she had no time to ask. Shouts came from just outside the door: “There are footprints here! Go look inside!”

She hurled the ice at the wall.

A strange pattern appeared—hexagonal with an inner circle. At first glance it looked like a star chart, on closer inspection like a map, with many talisman symbols faintly visible. It appeared very complex and strange. Jing Hengbo had no time to examine it closely. Following Xun Ru’s instructions, she pressed the hexagon and center in sequence. The pattern clicked as the hexagon sank down and the circle’s center protruded. Jing Hengbo grasped the disc and turned it left three times, right once. The disc indeed came off.

“Good…” she said happily, then her voice stopped.

“Clap.” A sound came from behind.

Like a palm slapping on a table.

Yélu Qi was beside her, Feifei hung upside down above her head. No one was behind her.

Jing Hengbo felt her neck stiffen, but still immediately turned around.

She immediately saw a hand reaching out from the coffin, slapping and gripping the coffin’s edge.

The hand was pale and bloodless, with bluish knuckles and somewhat long nails.

Quiet room, swirling snow, coffin, hand emerging from the coffin.

Cold wind blew eerily behind her.

Very much like a zombie movie.

Jing Hengbo grabbed Feifei and tossed it into the opening, then moved to push Yélu Qi. Yélu Qi was always faster—he caught her wrist and tried to push her in.

Jing Hengbo couldn’t enter.

“Bang!” Her head hit the disc.

Stars exploding before her eyes, she looked up to see another layer of disc had somehow appeared inside the opening, slowly rotating closed. In the closing whirlpool, she could vaguely see blue-glowing arrowheads slowly emerging.

She drew a sharp breath—Xun Ru hadn’t mentioned this.

Was the zombie responsible?

She turned to see that hand still there, lightly pressing a depression in the wall.

The hand’s owner was slowly sitting up, his long hair gleaming behind him.

Footsteps clattered outside. Jing Hengbo sighed—even if the zombie didn’t resurrect, they were too late to escape now.

The zombie suddenly raised his hand, pointing at the door.

“Clap!” followed by tumbling sounds. Someone yelled, “Ow, there’s a trap here!” Others shouted, “Back! Back!” More struggling and thrashing sounds as voices retreated.

Jing Hengbo frowned, watching the zombie block pursuers outside. Was it planning to keep the fresh human meat to itself?

That fellow didn’t turn around immediately, sitting stiffly in the coffin as if still dazed.

Jing Hengbo wondered if black donkey hooves would work? Without black donkey hooves, how effective would Feifei’s claws be?

The person suddenly spoke.

His voice was actually quite young and clear.

“Where is Xun Ru?”

Jing Hengbo hadn’t expected his first words to ask about Xun Ru. Blinking, she said, “Killed by Yélu clan members.”

The person seemed to laugh briefly, saying, “If she were so easily killed, could you have made it here?”

“You two really are parasites in each other’s bellies,” Jing Hengbo praised. “She said you probably wouldn’t die, you say she’s not easily killed. Truly disasters last a thousand years.”

“Next time remember not to stab the heart,” the person said flatly. “Nine Heavens Gate vital points differ from you mortals.”

“I heard Nine Heavens Gate martial arts can reverse meridians and relocate internal organs,” Yélu Qi suddenly said.

Jing Hengbo maliciously glanced at the Third Young Master’s lower body, wondering if his little brother might have moved to his face.

The Third Young Master didn’t answer but suddenly said, “You have big trouble.”

“Our troubles have always been big and many,” Jing Hengbo shrugged.

“Originally I didn’t plan to pursue you. Life-and-death injuries are not bad things for our sect members—they’re necessary tribulations among the three required ordeals. I would sleep in this coffin for three days, and upon waking could advance further. But you took the Heavenly Water Ice from my coffin,” he said expressionlessly. “This caused my failure, setting me back three years. I bear my sect’s experimental mission. My failure is the sect’s failure. Even if I forgive you, the sect won’t.”

“Human life is spent struggling to survive amid various forgiveness and unforgiveness,” Jing Hengbo smiled dismissively.

“Choose,” the person said as if he hadn’t heard her, casually. “One death will suffice. Quickly.”

That tone made it sound like only killing one was his mercy.

Jing Hengbo wanted to laugh.

Were all the wilderness’s hidden sects insane? One Purple Star Elder specialized in training idiots, this Nine Heavens Gate was even more impressive—full of condescension, constantly deciding life and death, truly thinking themselves celestial gates?

This was just an ordinary Nine Heavens Gate disciple. If their sect leader existed, wouldn’t he want to swallow the world?

“Either let this woman die,” the Third Young Master said to Yélu Qi. “You’re at least one of our Yélu clan.”

“Exactly,” Yélu Qi smiled, saying to Jing Hengbo. “How about you go die?”

“No way, why shouldn’t you die instead?” Jing Hengbo rolled her eyes.

The Third Young Master seemed to sneer lightly. Jing Hengbo felt that with background music, it would probably be: Humans, you are foolish.

“You have no martial arts, you’re suitable for dying!”

“You’re a man, you should die first!”

“I’m Yélu clan, I shouldn’t die!”

“I came to help you, why should I die!”

The room erupted in chattering argument. The Third Young Master couldn’t help raising his hands to cover his ears, saying, “Noisy!”

Yélu Qi and Jing Hengbo, busy arguing, suddenly said in unison, “Then you should die instead!”

Before their words finished, Yélu Qi’s sword flashed while Jing Hengbo raised her hand, sending the desk’s paperweight flying to strike down.

“Crack!” The Third Young Master’s coffin beneath him shattered!

Ice fragments flew as a figure flashed. The Third Young Master leaped into the air, his hand leaving the wall. Yélu Qi suddenly pulled Jing Hengbo down, “Duck!”

Jing Hengbo instinctively bent down, hearing a whoosh overhead as cold wind scraped her scalp. She smelled the fishy stench of poison.

Looking up again, she saw three clusters of blue arrows embedded deep in the opposite wall.

Turning back, she saw the arrows that had been about to fire from the previously closed disc were gone. That Third Young Master’s hand had been controlling the mechanism to manage these arrows. Yélu Qi’s sword breaking the coffin forced him to release control, making the arrows fire.

Once fired, the disc stopped closing and revealed the opening, but immediately began another round of closure.

Jing Hengbo knew this must cycle endlessly—the opening lasted only a moment!

“Get in!” A great force pushed from behind, sending her into the hole!

Jing Hengbo was alarmed—Yélu Qi remained outside alone, severely injured, facing that mysterious Third Young Master!

She immediately turned around. Through the gradually closing disc, she saw the two already fighting. Snow danced in the room with crisscrossing ice energy, spreading white mist everywhere, making human forms invisible.

This scene seemed somehow familiar, making her heart jump.

Unable to see the battle clearly in the mist, both were injured, but this was the Third Young Master’s territory with countless mechanisms. Yélu Qi would definitely be at a disadvantage.

Strangely, the Third Young Master kept blocking those garrison troops outside, seemingly unwilling to let them enter.

The disc rotated closed with shrinking gaps. She was frantic but had nothing to stop the disc’s closure. Once this closed, it could never open again. With great enemies before and armies outside, Yélu Qi faced a dead end.

Perhaps he had long prepared for this. Jing Hengbo saw his sleeves seem to wave at her.

Telling her to leave quickly. But Jing Hengbo was unwilling to give up.

The room’s mist suddenly contracted. Flying snow throughout the sky condensed into a staff, whistling straight at Yélu Qi’s heart. Yélu Qi’s sword surged upward against the flow, penetrating the staff’s center. Reverse-flying snow and scattered ice fragments engulfed Yélu Qi. The foremost clump of ice and snow suddenly flashed, condensing into a spike aimed directly at Yélu Qi’s heart!

Yélu Qi tried to dodge, his form twisting as his wound flared, making him stumble. In haste, he could only block with his palm.

With a hiss, the ice spike pierced his palm, blood spattering. Still not stopping, it whistled straight toward Yélu Qi’s heart!