The bloody scent drilled into his nostrils, carrying with it an intriguing, damp, moldy smell.

Mu Cengxiao gripped the Mieshen Saber at his side and looked toward Tian Fangfang, who was holding a broken branch and grinning at him cheerfully.

“Hey, junior brother’s method worked—tickling really can wake you up by scratching!” Tian Fangfang clapped her hands and asked Mu Cengxiao, “Junior Brother Mu, are you alright?”

Mu Cengxiao was only stunned for an instant before immediately understanding. He simply asked the two people in front of him, “An illusion?”

“Exactly!” Tian Fangfang stood up, patting the dirt off her knees and looking toward the distant end of the corridor. “All three of us fell for it. Fortunately, little junior brother woke up and tickled me awake, otherwise who knows how long we would have been struggling in there.”

Earlier, the two of them had found Mu Cengxiao, who had sunk into the illusion, and used dried branches from the ground to tickle the soles of his feet for quite a while before finally managing to wake him up.

“The illusion here is really powerful. Even Seventh Uncle and Senior Sister Meng couldn’t see through it—the opponent’s strength must be very formidable.” Mendong’s small face was tightly drawn. “The Qiankun Bag won’t open, and there’s Yuanli loss too. Most likely, it’s all the work of the illusion’s master. This matter… isn’t that simple.”

Though Mendong was young, he had often accompanied Zhao Mayi and Gu Baiying outside searching for spiritual treasures that could repair spiritual vein breaches. He had traveled to many places and seen much of the world. Ordinary demon creatures, even if they wanted to create illusions, would find it very difficult to create such a grand spectacle. An entire city was one thing, but even two of Taiyan Sect’s prodigies hadn’t noticed anything amiss—this showed the opponent was much more troublesome than usual.

“When soldiers come, we’ll block with generals; when water comes, we’ll cover with earth. With so many of us here, are we afraid of one demon?” Tian Fangfang was quite optimistic. “Besides, if he were that powerful, why would he need to sneakily create an illusion to harm people? Since he doesn’t dare to openly compete with us, nine times out of ten, he’s just someone who’s bluffing. Right, Junior Brother Mu?”

Mu Cengxiao thought for a moment and nodded. “Senior Brother Tian makes a good point. Moreover, the urgent matter at hand is to first find Uncle Master and Senior Sister.”

As soon as these words came out, Mendong and Tian Fangfang’s expressions became strange for an instant.

Mu Cengxiao asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Well…” Tian Fangfang hesitated for a moment. “Junior brother, actually…” He stepped aside to reveal what was behind him. There, by the cave’s stone wall, a white dress like mist in a secluded valley, Meng Ying lay collapsed on the ground.

Meng Ying and Mu Cengxiao weren’t far apart; Tian Fangfang had discovered her before tickling Mu Cengxiao.

Mu Cengxiao was startled. “Senior Sister Meng?” He stepped forward twice, saw it was indeed Meng Ying, then turned to ask Tian Fangfang and Mendong, “Why didn’t you wake her up?”

Tian Fangfang and Mendong exchanged glances and tacitly stepped back a small step. Tian Fangfang tossed the branch he had just used to tickle Mu Cengxiao toward him and coughed twice. “Junior brother, I’m just a rough fellow who doesn’t know his strength. If I accidentally hurt Senior Sister Meng, that would be terrible. You’d better do it.”

Mu Cengxiao looked toward Mendong.

Mendong waved his hands repeatedly. “I can’t either, I don’t know how.” What a joke! Meng Ying was Uncle Master Yueqin’s disciple. If that old-fashioned Uncle Master Yueqin found out he had taken off Meng Ying’s shoes and tickled the soles of her feet, he would clean house.

Besides, even if Uncle Master Yueqin didn’t know, facing Senior Sister Meng’s face cold as frost, who could bring themselves to do it? Senior Sister Meng usually kept her emotions hidden—if she became displeased, she might just cut him down. He was merely a small disciple of Yueguang Daoren. Though he had the “Immortal Spirit Aperture,” his cultivation was quite ordinary. Meng Ying was the future head of Taiyan Sect—even if his master wanted to protect him later, he would be powerless.

The more Mendong thought about it, the more miserable he felt, and he became even more determined not to take on this hot potato. He only spoke sincerely to Mu Cengxiao: “Senior brother, we just tried other methods but couldn’t wake her. As for tickling Senior Sister, your cultivation is higher—you should do it.”

Mu Cengxiao frowned slightly, bent down to pick up the small branch that had fallen at his feet, and walked to Meng Ying’s side to kneel.

His heart was originally open and honest, but when he grasped Meng Ying’s foot with one hand and was about to remove her shoes and socks, he suddenly hesitated.

Come to think of it, Liu Yunxin had often run barefoot with him through muddy fields when they were small. Though they weren’t biological siblings, they were closer than real siblings, and he had never paid attention to such matters. But Meng Ying and he weren’t familiar to that degree, and the women in the sect were proud and haughty—what if she found his action presumptuous?

What if Meng Ying woke up and, in her anger, cut him down?

Mu Cengxiao suddenly felt quite apprehensive.

With his current cultivation level, he still couldn’t beat Meng Ying.

But now he was caught between a rock and a hard place. It seemed Tian Fangfang and Mendong wouldn’t go tickle Meng Ying anytime soon, and they couldn’t just delay like this forever. Thinking of this, Mu Cengxiao steeled his heart, closed his eyes, yanked off Meng Ying’s shoes and socks in one motion, grabbed the small branch, and tickled frantically.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when there was a sharp “slap.”

In the silent cave, the sound of the slap rang out abruptly.

A heavy black long sword was held across his neck, the woman’s face was angry, her voice like ice: “Lecher—”

…

“Slap—”

The figure was roughly thrown out, his back striking the hard cave wall. As he slid down, blood traces snaked behind him like a crimson serpent.

“Yang Zanxing!” Gu Baiying’s gaze sharpened. While struggling to support himself and stand up, his spiritual veins were so congested that he could barely move an inch, not to mention he had also lost all his Yuanli.

“Let her go.” The youth tried his best to speak calmly. “I’ll stay here to keep you company—for you, that’s quite a good deal.”

The Mirage Woman walked to Zanxing’s side, extended one hand to grasp Zanxing’s neck, lifting her like cargo. While admiring the struggling appearance of the prey in her hands, she spoke unhurriedly: “Little immortal, that won’t do. She must die, and you… I want you too.”

“Don’t be a toad lusting after swan meat… cough cough…” Zanxing laughed. “My Uncle Master… how could he be with an old demon like you? Stop dreaming.”

“Very good, still tough-mouthed when death is at hand.” The Mirage Woman didn’t get angry but smiled instead. “If I throw you into the illusion you fear most, I wonder if your bones are as hard as your mouth.”

Gu Baiying said angrily, “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t like killing people directly,” the Mirage Woman’s voice was gentle. “That’s too crude and too boring. I like to let them sink into my illusions. There, I am the Heavenly Dao. As for you,” she looked at Zanxing, “stinking woman, let me see what you fear most in your heart, and I’ll let you sink in that fear for all eternity.”

“Heavenly Dao?” Zanxing was noncommittal. “You might have some misunderstanding about yourself. In my view, you’re nothing more than an old demon who plays with people’s hearts.”

“Bitch—” The Mirage Woman’s beautiful face seemed to become distorted because of Zanxing’s words. She suddenly opened her five fingers, and her slender, snow-white fingertips suddenly transformed into five hideous, poisonous snakes, lunging toward Zanxing’s face.

The next moment, the Mirage Woman’s movement paused.

The Panhua Stick, broken into two pieces—one half was gripped in Zanxing’s hand, the other half had penetrated the Mirage Woman’s waist. It hadn’t fully penetrated, only a small section at the front, with a cluster of blood flowing from it.

She tilted her head slightly, showing a bit of confusion on her face, but then that expression quickly faded, replaced by fierce anger: “You dare—”

“You talk too much.” As soon as Zanxing finished speaking, she was violently slammed to the ground by the Mirage Woman. The Mirage Woman didn’t care at all about the wound on her body and simply raised her hand, pulling the Panhua Stick from her waist.

“You probably don’t know what a real illusion is. I told you,” the Mirage Woman said coldly, “you will regret it—”

The Panhua Stick suddenly bloomed before her eyes. From the front end of the stick flew out a small red snake. This little snake was as thin as a human finger, its entire body covered in blood red, yet mirror-bright and terrifyingly luminous, like a thin thread. It swiftly darted into Zanxing’s forehead.