Chapter 117

At the Lingxu Sect, the grounds before the main hall should have remained peaceful, but the snow was now trampled into dirty clumps lining the path. Dark bloodstains wedged between the whiteness, staining the purity.

After the battle, the disciples were resting and recovering. Many gravely wounded by the Demonic Race had been carried into the hall and laid aside.

This was where Bai Su proved her worth; she was now quite busy. Healing cultivators were like this—in wartime, they needed protection, but after the fight, they became the lifeline.

Lin Xunzhen and Ruan Mingzhu, following Yue Changge, had completely avoided the main force of the Demonic Race, so they bore only minor injuries.

Qing Zhouxue held a cloth and carefully wiped her sword. The blade was stained with the blood of many demonic creatures; any that had tried to approach Yun Shuchen, as long as she could see them, had fallen to the Qingshuang Sword.

The gleaming surface was crusted with dark red scabs, and she had to dab it with clean water, meticulously wiping every trace away. Otherwise, if she sheathed a dirty sword, the blood would fester, reek, and damage the blade.

After many back-and-forth scrubs—

"Really," Ruan Mingzhu shook her head, "the way you gaze at that sword is like you're looking at your beloved."

Yue Changge glanced at Qing Zhouxue, musing inwardly: times had changed—this was indeed a gift from her beloved. Such a sweet detail; she'd have to remember it, lest she forget to note it later.

The bright blade flashed, reflecting an approaching shadow. Qing Zhouxue followed the sword's edge and looked up toward the door. Indeed, her master was walking toward her.

But what drew attention was the demonic girl bound behind Yun Shuchen, her lashes slightly lifted, warily surveying those around her.

Yue Changge gave the woman a thorough once-over. "How did you manage to bring back a prisoner? What rank is she?"

She was likely of noble status. The lotus pattern could be traced back to Tang Jiaye. Tang Wuyue's was a six-petaled lotus, but on closer inspection, this girl's pattern wasn't quite like Tang Wuyue's. Moreover, Tang Wuyue wouldn't keep her daughter in obscurity as a mere soldier, so she probably wasn't her child.

After Tang Wuyue's rise, Tang Jiaye still had several younger daughters, whom Yun Shuchen had never met. Perhaps this girl was their descendant.

"Mm," Yun Shuchen said. "I'll take her back to the Taichu Sect for interrogation first. She's in your hands now."

"Hey," Yue Changge shot her a glance, "why is it always me again?"

She reluctantly took charge of the demonic girl, who eyed her with suspicion.

The Nüxi clan rarely bore ugly women, and this girl was no exception—gorgeous as a red-banded krait, seeming anything but easy to handle. She glared darkly at Yue Changge. Unlike Yun Shuchen, this woman showed not a hint of kinship.

Elder Yue tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, glanced at her, and lowered her voice: "Mm... look again, and I'll—?" She deliberately scared her, miming a chopping motion at her own eye. Then she heard nearby disciples whispering: "...Elder Yue looks like a kidnapper, vicious and ruthless."

That description should rightly fall on your gentle and graceful Elder Yun. She couldn't help but snort coldly.

The crisis at Lingxu Sect was resolved. Yun Shuchen had spread word about the death of Tang Wuyue's daughter to the Demonic Race. Once they returned, someone would surely report it. Tang Wuyue had never favored roundabout methods, so next time she'd come straight to cause trouble.

At least the Lingxu Sect would be safe for a while.

From that day on, they didn't wish to linger, so they returned directly to the Taichu Sect. They flew on their swords, covering a thousand li in one stretch. Crossing the ceaseless chill of Beiyuan Mountain, they finally reached the warm winds of the Taichu Sect.

The demonic girl was eventually brought back to Heyi Peak, bound. To prevent her from harming anyone, Yun Shuchen placed a magical tool on her wrist—a jade bracelet that shrank to fit upon touching her skin. With that, her cultivation was sealed, rendering her no different from a mortal until removed.

Qing Zhouxue found it hard to adjust to suddenly having such a person on the peak. Moreover, that lingering aura of demonic cultivation made her uneasy, constantly reminding her of the battle at Lingxu Sect.

Yun Shuchen found it amusing to watch her disciple's brows—since entering the door, they had remained furrowed without relief. The Qingshuang Sword at her side, a demon-slaying blade, trembled with each approach, as if it might leap from its sheath at any moment.

In contrast, that little demon lord also detested Qing Zhouxue's proximity. To be precise, she instinctively hated any cultivator. Except Yun Shuchen.

That name she remembered—though she had never seen her face, it was mentioned in the rumors of the Demon Realm.

"What's your name?"

At first, no matter who asked during the journey, the girl had not spoken a word. But she answered Yun Shuchen: "Fan Yin."

Yun Shuchen pointed at the alluring markings on her face, thoughtful. "Not surnamed Tang?"

Fan Yin shook her head. "I dare not bear that surname."

Dare not bear the surname—those words were thought-provoking.

"And your mother?"

At the mention of that topic, a shadow passed over her eyes. "She was the fourth daughter of the former sovereign, Tang Jiaye, and the current sovereign's own sister. She has already passed away."

Before Yun Shuchen could ask, she raised her eyes and stared straight at her. In that gaze, the hatred toward the current sovereign was startling.

"Did Tang Wuyue do it?" Yun Shuchen sighed softly, guesses forming in her mind. She was truly mad enough, but given her nature, she could indeed do such a thing.

Fan Yin lowered her lashes, hiding tears, steadying her voice: "After Tang Wuyue ascended, the first thing she did was bring the dogs she'd been building up over the years to purge dissidents. She even laid murderous hands on her own sisters, and among them was my mother."

"By all rights, you shouldn't be alive," Yun Shuchen said, raising a hand to stroke a tear from her cheek.

"Back then... I was hidden by my mother behind a stack of books in a cabinet, and I narrowly escaped. Afterward, I drifted onto the streets until General Yu picked me up and tossed me among her troops. She taught me to conceal the lotus mark on my face, and then I lived as an ordinary person."

"You really are lucky to be alive."

Yun Shuchen was mulling it over when she heard her disciple knock on the door, her voice faint: "Master, dinner's ready."

She turned and replied, "Wait a moment."

"Her only daughter died without even a trace of ash left." Fan Yin chuckled darkly. "Karma."

"Is there anything else you need to confess?" After her laugh, Fan Yin closed her eyes. "Ask away; I'll tell you everything I know. This is no different from betraying my clan... but she isn't worth my loyalty."

"No more questions needed," Yun Shuchen said.

"Then you can do it now."

Having lost her interrogation value, she, as a demon, would probably be executed. Facing death, fear was inevitable, yet she forced her breathing to remain steady, like a prisoner offering her neck to the blade.

A weight pressed atop her head—a warm palm that rubbed once, then paused, unmoving. Fan Yin waited a long while but never felt her skull being shattered.

"Why would your aunt kill you?"

She opened her eyes. Yun Shuchen leaned down slightly, raising her chin with one finger to study her, then smiled softly: "As you said, if all of it is true—Tang Jiaye's line has been slaughtered by Tang Wuyue, and I've also slain Tang Wuyue's only daughter. Do you know what that means?"

"...What?" Fan Yin asked, puzzled.

"From this moment on, you are the only heir qualified to succeed her."

Fan Yin was utterly stunned, eyes wide. The woman before her smiled gently, with something like pity and encouragement: "Don't you want to avenge your parents?"

Of course she did. But in the years she had scraped by among the troops, she had never thought she could... sit on that seat. The Lord of the Demon Realm—for her—it was far too distant. Like a dream. When someone suddenly thrust that possibility before her eyes, Fan Yin's first thought was not joy, but bewilderment.

Yun Shuchen's grip on her chin loosened, and Fan Yin swayed as if unsteady, instinctively reaching for support. In doing so, she grabbed hold of her innocent aunt, who was standing very close.

Just then, the door was knocked again, then pushed open a crack.

"Master, it's been a while. Didn't you say—"

Qing Zhouxue stopped mid-sentence, staring in surprise at the demonic girl clinging to her master as if being coquettish, while her master turned to look at her with startled eyes.

"...you were hungry."

With some indescribably complex feeling, she said no more, closed the door, and walked away as if nothing had happened, her footsteps fading.

Yun Shuchen stood frozen in place. She steadied Fan Yin, then, somewhat hastily, opened the just-closed door and swept out.

"Qing'er?"

The courtyard was empty. The evening meal laid outside was kept warm by a layer of spiritual energy. A Jin crouched on a nearby chair, tilting her head and mewing innocently.

"Did she leave?" Yun Shuchen frowned at it.

With her tail raised, the cat pointed outside, then lowered its head to nibble seriously at a small pigeon leg on the plate.

Heyi Peak was quite large; if Qing Zhouxue went off alone, Yun Shuchen might indeed have a hard time finding her immediately. But luckily, Qing Zhouxue always wore the red string. Yun Shuchen concentrated her senses and, following a faint trace, finally spotted the solitary white figure on Yimeng Cliff.

Only after finding her did Yun Shuchen slow her steps and approach leisurely.

Qing Zhouxue heard the faint footsteps and turned to look back. Against the light, Yun Shuchen couldn't discern her expression; in the sunset, she could only see a blurry, ethereal silhouette, presumably expressionless.

"That demonic girl is..." Yun Shuchen started, but then realized—how was she supposed to explain this familial connection? Once said, she would inevitably have to tell Qing Zhouxue about her origins and many details of her past. That was precisely what Yun Shuchen was reluctant to mention.

She quietly looked at the person before her.

Qing Zhouxue was a soul formed from ancient sword intent in the Sword Tomb of the immortal sects. The Sword Tomb buried countless fierce weapons that had slain demons and monsters. Like the Qingshuang Sword, they would instinctively want to leap from their sheaths at the mere scent of demonic qi. In other words, her disciple was truly born with a celestial bone, meant from birth to slay demons.

Her own half-demon blood could never be removed; like the pattern entwining at the root of her thigh, it could only be concealed with the most exquisite arts. Carefully, she had hidden all her past, and only then did she appear... pure and noble.

The words reached her lips and took a subtle detour: "I once adopted a sworn sister; she was of the Demonic Race. It turned out I ran into her daughter this time. She's the one I brought back today."