As Dong Ling’s gaze drifted between Zi Fengxiu’s scattered remains, Xinzi stood on the sidelines, for once not making a single noise. Friend, sister, aunt, confidant, to Dong Ling, Zi Fengxiu was all this and more. For as long as she could remember, Fengxiu had been by her side, providing sword, advice and unfaltering support. For Dong Ling’s sake, there was nothing Fengxiu wouldn’t do. In that regard, she reminded her of her father. And if among her relatives, that father ranked first, then no one could take the second place from Fengxiu.
What could she do? Who could she blame? Besides trying to piece together the bits of Fengxiu’s shattered body, Dong Ling couldn’t think of anything.
Xinzi took Fengxiu into his Jeweled Dome, offering shelter from wanton beasts, and was rewarded by a sword thrust in his heart. If not for his body hiding a Retribution Seal, the ground would now be hugging his corpse.
Theoretically, Formation Masters could inscribe one seal per proficiency level. One for the yellow grade, two for the black grade, three for the profound grade, and so on. In practice, however, few below the profound grade could engrave a single seal on human flesh, so just like Hao Min couldn’t expect a Fascination Seal from Xinzi, Zi Fengxiu could not see that Retribution Seal coming.
Dong Ling didn’t want Xinzi to die, especially not for helping her at her lowest. But at the same time, the sight of Fengxiu’s mangled mess of a corpse crippled her senses. Feeling Dong Ling’s mind grow weak, Xinzi reached out.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Dong Ling’s glassy eyes trembled at the words, which in a beautiful twist of reverse psychology, forced her to accept the facts of Fengxiu’s fall.
“Don’t be. She can only...blame herself,” she said. Tear drops trickled down Dong Ling’s cheeks, carrying alongside them the grief she bottled up. Without a word, Xinzi closed his eyes, joined his hands in a prayer sign, and whispered a Lianist incantation. Dazzling rays lit up Fengxiu’s remains. Blue lotuses blossomed, unleashing waves of holy force that sucked Dong Ling into a trance.
In that instant, she saw Fengxiu’s soul take shape, smile at her, then leave for the Reincarnation Cycle. This was nothing more than a mirage conjured by Xinzi through Esoteric Magic. But did the living need more to feel at ease? Dong Ling didn’t and, failing to see through Xinzi’s trick, convinced herself that her Fengxiu had left for a new life of which she’d make a better use of.
“Thank you,” Dong Ling said. For a second, Xinzi wondered if she thanked him for tricking her, then realized that he’d overthought the matter. “No need. As a spiritual leader, seeing off the fallen is also part of my job.” From Xinzi’s words, Dong Ling sensed a double meaning, but believing that stress and weariness had gotten to her, she dismissed that thought and stood up.
A cumbersome scene followed. Under the leadership of their rank two leaders, dozens of Arctic Bearworms formed circles around Xinzi’s Jeweled Dome Array—neither advancing nor retreating. Spreading out his Spiritual Sense, Xinzi realized that it wouldn’t be long before more ice beast legions showed up. Having come prepared to trap them all in his Evil-Sealing pot, the monk didn’t care for their numbers. But amidst the rising beast tide, a pair of familiar auras flared, forcing Xinzi’s face to contort in annoyance.
“A’Ling, do you want the Ice-Glazed Lichen?” Ignoring the beast blockade, Xinzi tilted towards Dong Ling and asked in a straightforward tone.
“Who doesn’t? Even my father would benefit from it. But while we can only use it to increase our cultivation speed, you can extract and incorporate all its properties. So if you want it, I won’t stand in your way.” Dong Ling’s reply surprised Xinzi, who expected her to want the lichen for either Xia Hu or her father. In any other circumstances, Xinzi would relish the change. Now, however, he couldn’t be more disappointed.
“No. You can have it. I will clear the path and set up formations to help you harvest it. In exchange, you will help me with something else,” Xinzi said, and from his storage ring summoned a wooden sword that floated towards Dong Ling. Xinzi didn’t come for an Ice-Glazed Lichen. It was a nice haul, but couldn’t bring him more than a Frigid Flame Heart would. That being the case, why not trade it to ensure that he’d get what he came for?
“An Evil-Repelling sword?” With one glance, Dong Ling recognized the runic patterns on the wooden sword’s flat side—her brows furrowed in response. But before she could probe Xinzi’s goals, the monk summoned a bronze pot. A single arc of crystal-blue light flashed, and as if deferring to superior powers, rank one and rank two bearworms lowered their heads, then spread to form a wide, icy road.
“Mental Repression?” Dong Ling’s eyes widened and, not sparing Xinzi’s bronze pot a glance, she sought the owner of that overwhelming move.
The cultivation world recognized three major forms of energy from which the rest trickled down: Spiritual Qi, Blood Energy and Soul Force. Barring a few exceptions, all complete lifeforms possessed the three. But cultivators excelled at Spiritual Qi, mysterious beasts at Blood Energy, ghosts at Soul Force, and demons at all three. As an Enlightened Monk and black-grade Formation Master, Xinzi possessed more Soul Force than most Qi Refinement cultivators could dream of. But even he couldn’t use it to impose his will on rank-two mysterious beasts. Yet, from that energy fluctuation, Dong Ling recognized a Qi Refinement fellow.
Two white-robed figures, a bewitching pair of male and female swordmasters, made their entrance—crossing the makeshift road with the poise of senior experts. Both Dong Ling and Xinzi locked on the two, but while the former’s eyes sparkled with mixed feelings, the latter restrained a grimace.
“Is it guilt that I sense? Third brother, why are you so eager to give up this golden opportunity? Could it be that you would rather not face us with that thing in your hands?” Flashing Xinzi a radiant smile, Chun Xu broke the silence.
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“Second sister, you can’t say that. With our fourth sister here, as the brother, I have to give way,” Xinzi said. Both Chun Xu and Xinzi’s words highlighted the brotherhood bond that united the four, but whereas the sword fairy used said bond in a passive-aggressive manner, Xinzi, who felt something amiss, put its weight in the two’s faces—hoping to make them reconsider their stance. This time, however, he’d need better tricks.
“Well said, third brother.” Xia Hu chimed in. As far as Xinzi could remember, Xia Hu had always referred to him as Xinzi or “little brother.”
“Third brother” was just as appropriate, but coming from Xia Hu, it removed layers of intimacy.
“We cultivators all seek opportunities to transcend our fates and climb the ladder of immortality. So third brother, I can’t blame you for wanting to improve your cultivation. But why now? Not before, not after, but right when the sect announces the next Yin-Yang Controller contest. Third brother, do you want my place?” As he spoke, Xia Hu stepped forward, standing increasingly close to Xinzi. His blunt words laid his thoughts bare, enabling the monk to see through the plot. “The bitch did me dirty.”
This turn of events took Xinzi by surprise, for in all his calculations, there was one thing that he failed to account for: Chun Xu’s meddling. Unlike Xia Hu, Xinzi didn’t misjudge that second sister of his. Anyone that saw how she dealt with enemies would conclude that beneath that mask of sanctity hid a deviously cunning vixen capable of all evils to get what she wanted. In the past, Xinzi believed that once he conquered the holy murderess, he could put her callous traits to good use. Little did he know that he’d already fallen on her hit list.
“Serves me right for getting my priorities wrong. Oh well, I suppose I should take it as a compliment,” Xinzi no longer bothered with ifs and whys. In any case, since he did not follow Guang Fanghu’s path, this couldn’t be the critical juncture.
“Does it matter? If I say that I’m not, will you turn heels and scram? If I say that I am, will you keep your sword sheathed? Big brother Xia, you’re not here for polite inquiries. So why probe my thoughts? If you need someone to give credit to your fears, apologies, but my humble self has no time to waste on an insecure swordsman,” Xinzi said and stepped towards Xia Hu. Separated only by the Jeweled Dome Array, the two faced one another—forming a sharp contrast.
Whereas Xia Hu stood tall at over 1.8 m, with doll-white skin, cascading hair and exquisite features that put women to shame, Xinzi only reached 1.75 m, with a bald scalp, herculean musculature and dark skin that combined to produce the domineering air of a warrior-monk.
“I, Xia Hu, have never done anything against morality or my conscience. But I will not tolerate any betrayal from those I trust. Xinzi, if there is one person I do not want to harm, it is you. So if you step back now, you’re still my brother.” If Xinzi’s words pricked him, Xia Hu’s face didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes shone with the supreme confidence that all under the heavens could only succumb to his will. Driven past his limits, Xinzi burst into laughter. But before he could make another move...
“Bold!”
Dong Ling’s thunderous voice shattered the precarious peace.
“Xia Hu, I’ve always treated you as a hero of our time. Never did I expect that as soon as your strength soared, you’d turn into a wanton scoundrel! When did my White Immortal sect become your Xia family’s playground—giving you the right to decide who could take part in this crucial contest? Oh, I forgot. There is no Xia family because the two of you were dumb enough to lead demonic cultivators past your village’s defensive formation!”
Dong Ling’s incisive words forced open Xia Hu’s deepest scars, making his eyes turn red and his face twist into an ugly grimace. Even Chun Xu, who’d remained stoic till now, couldn’t digest them.
“A’ Ling…”
“Bitch shut up. We are not that close. Clearly, it is you who fed that fool’s brain with rubbish. But even if it’s true, so what? Our ancestors set up the contest to select the most suitable talents for our sect’s supreme techniques. Across the White Immortal sect, who besides Xinzi is more qualified to learn the Yin-Yang Sword Array?”
Before Dong Ling’s rhetorical question, Chun Xu’s eyes darkened while Xia Hu clenched his fists till his nails dug through his flesh—and trembled to no end. “That’s what I thought. The number one formation talent in the history of my sect is being bullied into missing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because a bitch can’t get her priorities straight. Don’t forget that if not for the sect masters passing by your village, both Xia Hu and you Chun Xu would have long fed all the worms your ungrateful bodies could sustain!
But not only have you not contributed anything of note to the sect, you even plan to hinder its top talent’s growth! The audacity! Since you’re so confident in Xia Hu that you must lead the fool to ambush Xinzi, retreat from the contest! The women willing to become his Dao Companions are only in the thousands! He will not miss you!” Puffing up her bouncy chest, Dong Ling put her hands on either side of her waist and stared down the opposing pair, eager for a fight.
“Hahaha, fairies be damned. If I can use this opportunity to get myself a snakegirl, I’m doing it without a second thought!” As Xinzi predicted, by playing his cards right and choosing his words carefully, he could use this opportunity to drive a wedge between Dong Ling and Xia Hu. Nevertheless, the result outdid all his expectations.
“Xia Hu, Xia Hu, there are many people that you can afford to offend. I am not one of them.”