Shu Sheng had not yet left the room, but he kept all the developments across the imperial capital within his sight.

Fang Hui and Qian Li left the adjoining room. He took Qian Li to find Princess Chang Xi, asking on the way: “Do you think Ming Li made the wrong choice?”

Qian Li said, “Of course she did. As long as the earth ghosts aren’t eliminated, more people will suffer and die, betrayed by those closest to them.”

“Why should these people endure such things?”

Fang Hui listened in silence. Qian Li had experienced betrayal and harm from earth ghosts; he hadn’t, so he couldn’t know what that felt like.

The suffering between people is not connected.

Qian Li hated earth ghosts and wanted to kill them all. Fang Hui had no right to interfere with this desire.

The two went to Haotian Tower to find Chang Xi, also intending to seek Sui Qiu San’s whereabouts. But as soon as they went upstairs, they heard a maid answer: “The Sixth Princess has gone to the palace.”

What was she doing in the palace?

Fang Hui was somewhat surprised. He immediately thought of Emperor Wen Xiu and frowned just as he felt stellar power fluctuations sweeping across the entire imperial capital. Rows of star walls rose from the palace.

Qian Li rubbed his eyes and asked: “She couldn’t have gone there, could she?”

Fang Hui turned and left.

Qian Li called out and spread his hands: “You’re not going to leave me here alone, are you?”

Fang Hui walked quickly, not answering him. Qian Li sighed, scratched his head, and caught up. “Calm down. I’ll take you there with flash movement.”

*

Shu Sheng paid no attention to Fang Hui being taken to the palace by Qian Li’s flash movement. He stood inside the room looking at the flying snow outside. The two red marks on his white mask—one long, one short—appeared exceptionally bewitching.

In the snowy night, he saw a green figure approaching from afar, arriving at his door in the blink of an eye.

Xiang An’ge, arriving with flash movement, stopped at the door, maintaining a subtle distance from Shu Sheng.

“Why such a hurry?” Shu Sheng said gently. “Worried about Ming Li?”

“I’m not worried about her,” Xiang An’ge said. “It’s just that your ambition is growing, and you’ve set your sights on me, making my days somewhat difficult.”

“Ambition?” Shu Sheng sighed. “You and Ming Li both have responsibilities as pilgrims. Why do you always want to ignore this responsibility? Is it acceptable to watch everyone in the world fall into an abyss of suffering, to watch the continent disintegrate and all things perish?”

“By then, the Wufang Kingdom you treat as an otherworldly paradise and the sect Ming Li cherishes will no longer exist. These will all be consequences of your ignoring this responsibility.”

Xiang An’ge listened impassively: “Is this the reason you’ve been frequently throwing earth ghosts my way recently?”

“Those are earth ghosts trying to escape into the Wufang Kingdom to hide from the world. I also want to know how you would handle them,” Shu Sheng smiled. “Would you accept them, making the Wufang Kingdom a shelter for earth ghosts, or would you kill them to protect the humans of the Tonggu Continent?”

Xiang An’ge pressed down his eyebrows and clicked his tongue impatiently. Both of them simultaneously released stellar pressure, restraining each other. The falling snow at the center of the pressure was completely crushed.

“I didn’t come to discuss grand principles with you or talk about protecting humans and killing earth ghosts. I just want you to remove the void gate array you’ve placed in the Wufang Kingdom.”

As Xiang An’ge’s words fell, the pressure emanating from him intensified. The hanging bells at the corners of the eaves shattered and fell to the ground.

Shu Sheng: “Do you truly refuse the responsibility of being a pilgrim?”

Xiang An’ge glanced at him, his lazy demeanor carrying a hint of coldness: “You may have forgotten the state of mind I was in when I broke through.”

When breaking through, he had hoped everyone in the world would die.

How could such a pilgrim care whether the humans on this continent lived or died? Xiang An’ge didn’t care about human fate or the fate of this continent.

Hearing this, Shu Sheng let out a sigh. “I thought after all these years, you would have changed, especially since you’ve been willing to become friends with Ming Li.”

Xiang An’ge didn’t answer him. He opened all eight meridians, his overwhelming stellar power sweeping across. All the falling snow in the entire Martial Supervisory Alliance headquarters was cut in half. Shu Sheng was left at the headquarters, entangled in battle with Xiang An’ge, unable to rush to the western palace wall for the time being.

*

Everyone in the imperial capital noticed the two pilgrims fighting. People were continuously evacuating from the Martial Supervisory Alliance headquarters, trying to get as far from the battleground as possible.

Most of the Chief Inspectors had been dispatched to the Earth Star Death Prison to block Ming Li.

While these people were above in the snow, Zhou Caicai was below in the black well, relying on Life and Death Exchange to switch her severely injured state with strong, healthy, and active rats. She tried her best to repair her injuries with her yin-yang dual meridians, consuming most of her stellar power. Thanks to several rats, she barely managed to stabilize.

But she dared not go up.

Even in the unfathomably deep black well, she could feel the pilgrim-level pressure from outside, along with countless stellar power fluctuations. She knew without thinking that some important figures must have arrived above, and they were likely fighting.

With unknown enemies and allies, and having just suffered a setback with Chu Xiao, Zhou Caicai dared not rashly go up.

Moreover, she couldn’t go up now. Since she had already fallen in, she might as well look ahead.

She put down the squeaking rat in her hand and said sweetly to her lifesaver: “Brother Rat, see the rescue through—why don’t you help me scout ahead?”

The rat escaped her grasp and ran, rushing forward without stopping. It had been frightened by Zhou Caicai’s Life and Death Exchange—rather than entering a near-death state every so often, it would prefer to die quickly and cleanly.

Zhou Caicai, seeing the rat run forward, was quite moved.

Look, even animals have a more spiritual sense than humans.

She used the heavy eyes meridian technique, closing her eyes to connect with the rat’s vision. From the rat’s perspective, she saw that the Earth Star Death Prison was surrounded by endless darkness. She didn’t know how large the bottom of the well was, as there was no light at all. Even the rat was groping its way blindly.

Only where Zhou Caicai stayed could a bit of light leak in from the well opening above.

Zhou Caicai had no idea where the rat had run, feeling only that it was circling in darkness. As it ran, suddenly she saw a thin, spotted hand press down on the rat’s head and grab it.

Hey!

Zhou Caicai opened her eyes, somewhat surprised.

There was indeed someone in the depths of this darkness, but this person… ate rats.

Zhou Caicai sat down against the well wall, temporarily unable to get up. Looking toward the depths of darkness, she silently prayed that the rat-eater wasn’t Dong Yun. Otherwise, they would become enemies—you ate my lifesaving Brother Rat!

She raised her hand to cover her shoulder, pierced by the killing technique, with half her body stained with blood. Just as she finished grumbling in her mind that Brother Rat was dead, she clutched her wound and howled internally about the pain.

It hurt!

She had never experienced such pain in her life.

The young lady Zhou was quite the grudge-bearer.

*

In the cage deep in the darkness, the blind old man ate another rat.

The small fire illuminating the cage had disappeared, leaving the entire space in darkness. Another pustule had burst on Dong Yeyun’s face, causing him some pain, but he endured without scratching.

The only star line that had illuminated him had disappeared. Dong Yeyun lowered his eyes, thinking.

If someone could unlock the transfer array, it must be Zhou Zixi who had arrived.

Having been confined here with no sense of time, Dong Yeyun had learned something from the blind old man across from him. Initially, he hadn’t believed it, but now, deducing that the old man was the former pilgrim guardian of the imperial capital, he did.

Having been found by Zhou Zixi after five years, Dong Yeyun didn’t complain or think negatively. He merely felt a quiet relief in his heart.

If it was Zhou Zixi who unlocked the array, then even if Liang Pingshan hadn’t been transmitted away, he should be fine, right?

Yet deep in his heart, there was a voice that, though faint, couldn’t be ignored.

“Someone’s coming from outside, and someone’s also coming from inside.”

The blind old man chewed on the rat and laughed strangely: “This rat still carries a stellar power technique. What kind of person would send a rat to explore the well? Little mute, it seems someone has come for you.”

Dong Yeyun knocked on the iron pillar: [It could also be someone coming for you.]

“There’s no one left in this world who would come for me.”

After saying this, the blind old man let out a long sigh.

[Elder, can you hear others’ thoughts? Is that your miraculous ability?]

The blind old man paced back and forth in the cage, the sound of dragging iron chains clanking.

“Elder? Why has your attitude toward me suddenly changed, mute?” The blind old man laughed loudly. “Before, you barely paid attention to me, annoyed by this old man. Now you’re willing to talk to me on your initiative.”

Dong Yeyun habitually touched his nose, feeling a lump that hurt so much he gritted his teeth.

“I’ve always felt you looked familiar,” the blind old man said.

Dong Yeyun reminded him: [You’re blind.]

The blind old man laughed upon hearing this: “You’re right, I am blind. But my miraculous ability is heart vision, and the price for heart vision is that the eyes must be gouged out.”

Dong Yeyun was stunned to hear this. He began to realize something was wrong. Previously, he had thought this old man, like himself, had his eyes gouged out as punishment for being imprisoned here.

“Eyes are just one form. Heart vision is merely another way of seeing the world,” the blind old man said, turning his head toward Dong Yeyun. “For example, I can see what you’re thinking in your heart. I can also see that you know I’m a pilgrim. But how did you know? Recalling our conversation, it seems to have started when I mentioned Dong Yeshou.”

“Dong Yeshou… yes, very similar. You look very much like Dong Yeshou…” The blind old man came to the front of the cage, gripping the iron bars. A hovering small fire appeared again, illuminating the space. The old man’s empty eye sockets stared in Dong Yeyun’s direction. “What relation are you to Dong Yeshou?”

Dong Yeyun didn’t answer his question. Instead, having understood some things from the blind old man’s explanation of the heart vision technique, he looked back with a strange gaze: [You aren’t imprisoned here by Shu Sheng.]

“Of course not,” the blind old man answered frankly. “I am the master of this Earth Star Death Prison.”

They heard the squeaking of a rat again. Dong Yeyun saw a rat running toward the cage opposite, following the light. Connecting this with Zhou Zixi unlocking the array and the old man saying someone had come, he had an ominous premonition.

The blind old man bent down again to grab the rat, his five fingers tightly gripping it, crushing it in his palm. He looked in the direction the rat had come from and stepped forward.

Dong Yeyun knocked on the iron pillar to stop him.

[He is my father.]

The blind old man stopped in his tracks, slowly turning back to look at Dong Yeyun.

At the bottom of the well, Zhou Caicai looked at the last rat trembling in the corner and sighed.

*

On the street, the hovering golden-robed priest sensed the stellar power coming from the Martial Supervisory Alliance headquarters and turned his head to look.

Mingtu asked: “Great Priest, she went to the palace wall. It might be troublesome to capture her there. Should I and Mingshui go scout first?”

“No need,” the golden-robed priest looked away. “Catching one is enough.”

His gaze pointed distantly at Chen Zhou. Without further engagement, a star disc appeared rotating beneath his feet. He said to the two behind him, “Let’s go to Bei Dou. If we can’t catch Ming Li, we’ll take Shi Fei first.”

In the distance, Chen Zhou frowned as he watched. This array… he saw the Youyou tribe people disappear within the array, and his heart skipped a beat as he recalled Zhou Zixi’s transfer array.

Beside him, Qing Ying made a puzzled sound, evidently finding it familiar as well: “Could this be Zixi’s transfer array? How do the Youyou tribe people know it too?”

Chen Zhou suddenly thought of a possibility.

Why could the northern foreigners arrive silently in the imperial capital, deep in the Tonggu Continent?

Could it be through the transfer array?

Qing Ying, putting on her hood against the wind, asked Chen Zhou: “Should we pursue them?”

“Not for now. They’ll appear again,” Chen Zhou looked in Ming Li’s direction. “Let’s find your senior sister and dog Yun first.”

Qing Ying asked: “What about Zixi?”

Chen Zhou said, “He should be with your senior sister.”

*

Ming Li, repelled by the star walls, had placed a confinement array on Chu Xiao, restricting her in place. Watching her fall to the ground with a desperate look in her eyes, Ming Li merely gazed back toward the black well with an indifferent expression.

The imperial guards’ leader, Lu Yi, and the Chief Inspectors were all persuading her to stop, not to go further.

Chief Inspector Jia Wu stepped forward and said to Ming Li, “Jailbreaking from the Earth Star Death Prison is a serious crime. Holy Ming should consider Bei Dou. Bei Dou needs to conserve its strength and must not become enemies with the imperial capital again.”

“What does this have to do with Bei Dou?” Ming Li raised her hand, forcibly elevating her stellar meridian level beyond the pilgrim’s fire, and under the false state of eight meridians at full boundary, she pointed out life and death: “He is not a Bei Dou disciple, but he is my elder brother.”

Jia Wu and the others’ expressions changed drastically. They leaped back behind the star walls. Two stellar powers clashed, producing a sharp sound. Cracks appeared on the surface of the seemingly solid star walls, and amid the sharp sounds came crackling noises of breaking.

Lu Yi and the imperial guards, who were about to step forward to block Ming Li, also hurriedly retreated from the range of life and death.

Jia Wu heard the breaking sound and looked up in shock. As he spoke, some of his hair was already cut by the invisible circulating qi of heaven and earth, and exposed skin sprouted lines of blood: “Retreat!”

In the time it took to say that one word, someone had already burst into a mist of blood and fallen.

Lu Yi retreated to protect Princess Chang Xi, a large amount of stellar power surging around him for protection.

Yao Chao was protecting Chu Xiao in the confinement array, shocked internally. She hadn’t broken through yet—how could she use a pilgrim’s special-level technique?

Chu Xiao stared at Ming Li’s back, speechless with shock. All that remained was stupefaction. This kind of power left her utterly amazed yet also impossibly distant—something she could never grasp in her lifetime.

Life and death tore apart all the star walls, and the inspectors from the Martial Supervisory Alliance retreated.

Ming Li withdrew her stellar power and had just taken a step forward when she suddenly sensed a large contingent of imperial guards surging from behind. They were expressionless, fearless of death, acting only according to orders, surrounding the entire area from the palace wall to the black well.

The palace wall was filled with archers. They drew their bows, arrows nocked, power accumulated and ready to fire.

A man emerged from the ranks, his jade crown binding his hair, his brocade clothes touched with snow. His brows were sharp, his gaze piercing and cold as he swept it over what lay ahead.

Lu Yi bowed to the newcomer: “Fifth Prince.”

Each utterance of “Fifth Prince” fell into Chu Xiao’s ears. Her blank gaze gradually regained its light, hope igniting in her heart. Countless forces surged through her body, supporting her as she stood up from the ground.

Chang Hanhe had arrived. Yao Chao initially felt relieved, but sensed something was wrong when he saw the Fifth Prince’s expression.

Qian Li landed outside the imperial guards’ encirclement with Fang Hui. Chen Zhou and Qing Ying also landed outside the circle, looking from afar at the people within.

“The atmosphere here doesn’t seem right,” Qian Li said, his gaze passing over the imperial guards to fall on Ming Li.

Fang Hui’s gaze precisely captured Chang Xi among the crowd.

Qing Ying was originally happily about to wave and greet her senior sister, but paused, her expression somewhat strange. “My senior sister… why has she become shorter?”

Chen Zhou said irritably: “Don’t say that in front of her later.”

“Who’s that?” Qing Ying raised her chin, her gaze pointing toward Chu Xiao confined in the array. “She’s been confined by the senior sister’s array.”

Chen Zhou followed her gaze to look at Chu Xiao.

Princess Chang Xi asked Chang Hanhe: “Fifth Royal Brother, is Chu Xiao one of yours?”

This question directed everyone’s gaze toward Chang Hanhe.

Chang Hanhe saw a measure of persistence in the eyes of this royal sister whom he had met only a few times. It seemed that if he said yes, Chang Xi would fight him.

Just as Emperor Wen Xiu had said, Chang Xi usually said nothing, but in her heart, matters related to the Empress were a hurdle she could not cross. She would not spare the Chu family member who had poisoned the Empress.

If he were the one protecting Chu Xiao, then Chang Xi would kill him, too.

Chang Hanhe saw through everyone’s thoughts but could not see through Emperor Wen Xiu’s. He knew that as long as Emperor Wen Xiu lived, his life and death were in the emperor’s hands. Now, Emperor Wen Xiu had proposed a deal to him: trade Chu Xiao for the position of Crown Prince.

Should he make the trade?

If he did, he would be free from life and death concerns, becoming second only to one and above ten thousand others.

That being the case, what reason was there not to trade?

“No,” Chang Hanhe said coldly. “I am here by the Emperor’s command to execute the Chu family’s descendant.”

Yao Chao’s expression changed instantly. Before he could speak, a death-life realm assassin hidden behind shot an arrow that pierced his heart without a sound. The only person protecting Chu Xiao fell.

Blood splattered on Chu Xiao’s hem. After Yao Chao fell, her trembling gaze reflected Chang Hanhe’s face looking over. That face’s eyes held no warmth, cold as snow.

Ming Li laughed upon hearing this. She had placed the confinement array on Chu Xiao earlier to prevent her from escaping or being taken away by others. Now she waved her hand to remove it, coldly watching this drama of lovers turning against each other.

“Why… why?”

Chu Xiao seemed to have her throat gripped, making speech difficult.

She had summoned the strength to stand due to Chang Hanhe’s arrival, but now that strength was gradually being drained.

Chang Hanhe’s eyes, devoid of warmth, looked at her. His hands were clenched into fists within his sleeves, yet he appeared to have no emotional fluctuation.

Perhaps there was some reluctance, but what of it?

Chu Xiao and the throne were the two things Chang Hanhe valued most. If asked to choose between anything else and these two, he would always choose Chu Xiao. But between Chu Xiao and the throne, there was no comparison.

“Fire.”

Chang Hanhe gave Chu Xiao only two words.

Long arrows pierced Chu Xiao’s shoulder. She grabbed the arrow’s tail, struggling pathetically with her weak stellar power, colliding with the incoming stellar-powered arrows only to be knocked back and fall to the ground.

The pain of arrows piercing flesh and embedding in bone was far less than the pain brought by Chang Hanhe’s two words. Chu Xiao’s five fingers clawed at the ground with such force that her nails flipped back and broke. She screamed at the Fifth Prince, nearly hysterical:

“Chang Hanhe! Why?!”

Arrows grazed her cheeks, cutting bloody marks. It was unknown whether these archers had been instructed by Emperor Wen Xiu, but like tormenting a dog, none delivered a fatal blow. They always aimed for limbs, shoulders, or abdomen.

They wouldn’t let the arrows lodge; if they hit, they would go straight through bone.

Chu Xiao, pierced by arrows, fell to the ground and struggled up pathetically. Her clothes and hair were bloody and disheveled, yet she seemed infused with enormous energy, supporting her as she shouted her heart’s anger at Chang Hanhe.

—Why?

Isn’t it obvious?

You can’t compete with the throne in his heart!

You should have known from years ago when you were exiled and hunted, wandering in misery, suffering hardships, and he never once looked for you!

From beginning to end, it was always you blindly chasing his shadow. He never turned back to wait for you!

The wind and snow wailed. Everyone heard Chu Xiao’s plaintive questioning of Chang Hanhe, her resentful curses. But this time, no one would step forward to help her. No one would stand in front of her, blocking this sky full of arrows for her.

Chu Xiao staggered to her feet, clutching her ceaselessly bleeding shoulder, looking toward Chang Hanhe through eyes stained with blood, her vision already blurred.

The final arrow pierced her chest.

The force sent Chu Xiao falling backward, dropping down alongside the black well.

The light in her eyes was gradually covered by darkness.

*

Zhou Caicai pressed against the well wall, staring at the rat in the corner. She pondered how to use this last one, ultimately sighing, supporting herself against the cold wall to slowly stand up, preparing to walk forward a bit herself to see.

Just as she turned her head, a heavy object fell to the ground.

Zhou Caicai vigilantly looked back. By the faint light in the well, she saw a body covered in blood.