The demon race and Yang Zanxing were like two completely unrelated threads. She would rather harm her cultivation in Li’er Kingdom to let the merfolk possess someone and exit the formation, fulfilling their wish to see an old friend. She would also protect her little junior brother behind her when the golden flower tiger pounced at Mendong in the secret realm. She stood in front of him in Wufan City, and at the treasure ground, she actively picked up the Wuyou Sword to attract the sword spirit’s attention to save Meng Ying… She was afraid of corpses, dead people, and ghosts. A demon race member so useless in the world didn’t seem like someone who could accomplish anything earth-shattering.

After leaving the Li’er Kingdom secret realm, he had secretly investigated the Mo Sha matter together with Shaoyang Zhenren. When Gui Diao Tang died back then, Demon Empress Bujiang was still in the human world, but Demon Empress Bujiang had also disappeared without a trace several years ago. There seemed to have been upheaval in the demon realm, and the person behind it very likely treated Zanxing as a chess piece, too. Now that the entire cultivation world was filled with righteous indignation, it might be exactly what the other party wanted.

“Gu Baiying,” Putao’s words pulled his thoughts back. The girl spoke somewhat frantically: “So much evidence—are you pretending not to see it all?”

“Your so-called evidence is just excuses you’ve forcibly pinned on her,” Gu Baiying said flatly. “If she were just an ordinary Taiyan Sect disciple without a demon race identity, you wouldn’t be so certain today that she’s the murderer. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to kill a demon race member, but insisting on pinning a crime on them to make your actions seem justified is rather despicable.”

Putao said, “In the end, you just believe her words and don’t believe us.”

The youth’s gaze was calm: “Isn’t that normal? I’ve traveled and been with her for a long time, while I’ve only met you a few times. Naturally, I’d trust her over you. Besides, I’ve thought for a long time and really can’t find any reason to doubt her.”

The merfolk case in Li’er Kingdom—Princess Lizhu personally killed that naive and deeply affectionate little merfolk, creating a regret that could never be made up for. Because of his demon race identity, Yinli couldn’t tell the princess his name even until death, wandering lonely in the tomb for many years.

He didn’t want Zanxing to become a second Yinli, and he would never become a second Princess Lizhu. He believed in Zanxing just as he believed in himself—believing from the beginning and never doubting until death, regardless of the outcome.

Putao quietly looked at him. Under the night sky, lightning from the Five Thunder Platform illuminated the youth’s face. He struggled to prop himself up to make his spine, pressed down by heavenly lightning, straighter. His hair was soaked with sweat, strands sticking to his face. Though he looked so disheveled, his eyes were bright and firm, just as always.

She suddenly felt her heart ache and asked softly, “Gu Baiying, do you like her?”

Gu Baiying didn’t speak.

So Putao repeated once more: “Back then on Duoluo Platform, when we were spinning the spoon, I asked if you had someone you loved. You later told me you had someone you loved—that person is Yang Zanxing, isn’t it?”

Young people’s love and hate were distinct—their likes and dislikes were so obvious that it was hard to deceive others. His usual impatience and arrogance completely dissolved into tenderness when mentioning another person’s name, causing jealousy and bitter feelings.

He looked up, his eyelashes bearing a layer of mountain mist, and simply said: “Yes. I like Yang Zanxing.”

He liked Yang Zanxing.

The girl’s eyes reddened, and tears couldn’t help but fall. She quickly turned aside to hide her expression and said in a low voice: “But… It’s useless.”

“Her life tablet has shattered. Yang Zanxing is already dead.”

In the small house on Gufeng Mountain, the little boy paced back and forth in the room.

His lotus bun was now askew, but he had no mind to tidy it. He had worn the same clothes for two days, and they were wrinkled, but he had no heart to change. His usually radiant face had become like a frost-beaten eggplant, showing some dejection and worry, plus a bit of barely suppressed anxiety.

“Stop walking, Mendong.” Yueguang Daoren, sitting to one side, couldn’t help but wave his hand. “Your pacing is making me irritated.”

“Master,” Mendong ran to Yueguang Daoren’s side, looking up anxiously: “Now everyone is confined separately, and Martial Uncle is still on the Five Thunder Platform. They say the heavenly lightning on the Five Thunder Platform is something even our Patriarch couldn’t endure to the end—is that true? Will something happen to Martial Uncle if this continues?”

That day, Gu Baiying had rushed into the Ten Thousand Kill Formation, covered Zanxing’s escape, and faced the anger of disciples from all major sects alone. In the end, outnumbered, he was imprisoned on the Five Thunder Platform.

As the most favored young martial uncle of the Taiyan Sect and son of Immortal Qinghua, in the past, he wouldn’t need to care what others said. But now the demon-slaying army had not yet been formed, and the demon race was eyeing them covetously. At this time, the Taiyan Sect couldn’t become a target for all. Most importantly, Shaoyang Zhenren hadn’t spoken up.

He seemed to have no intention of protecting Gu Baiying.

Meng Ying, Tian Fangfang, and the others were now all confined to their respective courtyards, unable to step outside their gates. Daoist Lingxin had stationed people to watch over all these fellow disciples who were close to Yang Zanxing, ostensibly saying the demon race was cunning and might use their feelings for Yang Zanxing to deal with the cultivation world. In reality, everyone understood clearly—this was to prevent them from running to the Five Thunder Platform to find ways to rescue Gu Baiying.

Mendong spoke angrily: “That old undying one from Chihua Gate holds a grudge from when Senior Sister Meng and the others came to help when dealing with Yang Zanxing before. Having lived so long, his heart is smaller than anyone’s. This time, making Martial Uncle go to the Five Thunder Platform for punishment, he’s jumping the highest. He’s settling personal scores, wishing Martial Uncle would die under the lightning punishment—such vicious intentions!”

Yueguang Daoren had a headache: “Don’t take sides either. This matter is also because the Seventh Junior Brother was too arrogant. It would have been fine to just let the person go, but he kept talking about protecting Zanxing—wouldn’t that add fuel to the fire in Daoist Lingxin’s ears? We’re also to blame. Seventh Junior Brother is young, and we’ve always indulged him in the sect. We never taught him the principle of knowing when to yield and when to stand firm…”

“If Martial Uncle could yield and stand firm, he wouldn’t be Martial Uncle anymore,” Mendong muttered. “Master, can Martial Uncle come out now?”

“Now that Zanxing’s life tablet has shattered, Daoist Lingxin’s anger has dissipated by sixty percent. If he killed Seventh Junior Brother, the Taiyan Sect and Chihua Gate confronting each other at this time wouldn’t benefit Chihua Gate either.” Yueguang Daoren sighed. “Now, if Seventh Junior Brother would just give in and say he was bewitched by Zanxing, giving them a way out, Chihua Gate wouldn’t do things too absolutely either.”

But the difficulty was that Gu Baiying wasn’t someone who would give in. The harsher the lightning punishment, the more stubborn he became. If Shaoyang Zhenren didn’t actively speak up, Daoist Lingxin certainly wouldn’t diminish his authority. But if this stalemate really continued, the one suffering would be Gu Baiying himself. In the end, he might be reduced to ash and dust.

“Yes, Yang Zanxing’s life tablet shattered…” Mendong suddenly stopped, as if remembering something unpleasant, and fell silent.

Zanxing’s life tablet had shattered in half not long after escaping from the Ten Thousand Kill Formation that day. When a life tablet shattered, it meant this disciple had disappeared from the world—died.

Even though they were unwilling to believe this news, they had to acknowledge the facts.

The wind from Gufeng Mountain blew in through the window cracks, making the child sneeze involuntarily. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and also wiped the tears that had secretly flowed out.

Yueguang Daoren patted his little disciple’s head and sighed.

The mountain weather was unpredictable—the cool night wind from the previous day had become bleak today.

Autumn had finally arrived.