“Fellow Taoist Wu, you truly are completely unreserved when it comes to your Junior Sister.”
Bai Zhiqiu’s voice cut in at the perfect moment, carrying a hint of playfulness.
She fanned herself with her folding fan, her gaze drifting between the two before finally landing on Yu Qingyao. “To hand over such a supreme treasure so casually without even a hint of precaution. If it were my Tianyan Sect, even between fellow disciples, we would have to draw up a written contract before handling such wealth. Today, Zhiqiu has finally witnessed what it means for ‘an elder sister to be like a mother.'”
These words sounded entirely different to Yu Qingyao’s ears.
That strange, subtle emotion flared up again.
Almost as a reflex, her wrist flicked, and she quickly tucked the Jade Box deep into her Storage Ring.
Then, she took a half-step forward, shifting her body slightly to wordlessly block Bai Zhiqiu’s prying gaze from reaching Wu Yan.
She tilted her chin up slightly and looked coldly at Bai Zhiqiu.
“Miss Bai is a clever person; perhaps you only see things in terms of pros, cons, and personal gain. But among the disciples of my Piaomiao Sect, we never deal in such hollow formalities.”
She paused here, her tone carrying a faint, undetectable trace of aggression. “Senior Sister trusts me, so I will naturally protect this thing with my life. This kind of trust is something Miss Bai likely could never calculate with that pile of counting chips of yours.”
If she were facing the Wu Yan (Inner) of her past life, Yu Qingyao wouldn’t have been able to say such things even if she were hypnotized.
The air was instantly thick with a faint scent of gunpowder.
Bai Zhiqiu was momentarily stunned, but the smile in her eyes only deepened. She took a long look at Yu Qingyao, who was acting like a little leopard guarding its food, and then glanced at the calm Wu Yan behind her. A meaningful curve formed at the corners of her mouth.
“Oh? Then it was Zhiqiu who was shallow.” She gave a light chuckle, her eyes suggestive. “However, the bond between Fellow Daoist Yu and Fellow Daoist Wu is truly something to be envied.”
“You…” Yu Qingyao’s beautiful face flushed red, just as she was about to snap.
“Enough.”
Wu Yan’s cold voice rang out at the right time, interrupting the inexplicable clash between the two women.
“This is no place to linger. Miss Bai, are you ready to depart?”
Bai Zhiqiu shrugged, instantly reining in her improper behavior.
She pulled a Lopan from her sleeve.
“Buzz—”
The needle of the Lopan spun frantically, emitting a low hum. A moment later, the needle abruptly locked into place, pointing toward the southeast.
Bai Zhiqiu looked in that direction, her brow arching slightly.
“Southeast, roughly five miles,” she murmured. “There are strong spiritual power fluctuations over there. They are very chaotic and accompanied by a thick scent of blood. Looking at this hexagram, it should be a ‘Struggle of a Trapped Beast’. Besides us, I fear there are fellow Daoists from other sects trapped inside.”
“Other sects?” Gu Jian and the two other disciples approached after checking the corpses of the Demonic Cultivators. “Could it be people from the Lingxiao Sect or other smaller sects?”
“We will know once we arrive,” Wu Yan said flatly. She performed a graceful flourish with her longsword before sheathing it behind her back. “Gu Jian, take the Junior Brother and Junior Sister and walk in the middle. Stay alert. Miss Bai, I must trouble you to lead the way. Qingyao, stay close to me.”
Having said that, she took the first step. Her moon-white Daoist robe cut through the mist like a bright lantern in the gloomy swamp.
Yu Qingyao trailed half a step behind. Looking at that cold back, her hand instinctively brushed the position of her Storage Ring.
She bit her lower lip and hurried to keep up.
And in the mist where the others could not see…
A conspicuous red shadow was floating beside Wu Yan.
Wu Yan (Inner) was no longer throwing a tantrum. She had regained her high-and-mighty appearance, her bare feet treading on the void. She stood with her arms crossed, coldly watching Yu Qingyao and Bai Zhiqiu walking ahead.
“Hmph, a bunch of ants.”
While she spoke such hair-raising words, she also kicked disdainfully at the non-existent mud beneath her feet, muttering, “This wretched place is filthy, filled with the stench of lower lifeforms. Hey, little Wu Yan, walk slower. If I get my dress dirty here, I’ll…”
“You are not a physical entity. Your dress will not get dirty.”
Before she could finish, she was interrupted by Wu Yan within the Sea of Consciousness.
The group moved toward the southeast, each with their own thoughts.
The mist moved like a tide, slowly surging through this place of dead silence.
There was no wind here. The air felt like stagnant gel, carrying a stale, earthy stench and a lingering scent of blood that weighed heavily on everyone’s chest.
The Secret Realm in this life was significantly different compared to the one from her previous life.
Yu Qingyao felt somewhat uneasy.
In her past life, only disciples of the Piaomiao Sect had entered this Secret Realm, and there hadn’t been many dangerous places. As long as one was slightly careful, they could withdraw unscathed.
But in this life…
“We’re here.”
Her thoughts were cut short.
Bai Zhiqiu, who was walking at the very front, came to a sudden halt. She gripped the Lopan tightly to stop its noise.
The playful look on her face receded. Her peach-blossom eyes, which were usually curved in a smile, were now fixed solemnly on a low-lying area of scattered rocks ahead.
Without her needing to say a word, Wu Yan and the others also smelled that thick, almost suffocating scent of iron.
Gu Jian hurried forward, using his greatsword to push aside the waist-high withered grass. He then froze in place, letting out a suppressed gasp.
In that pile of jagged rocks lay four or five corpses strewn about.
They wore blue-grey Daoist robes. They were not disciples of the five major sects. Wu Yan and the others might not have recognized them, but Bai Zhiqiu identified their origin at a glance from their robes.
They were disciples of the Qingmu Sect—a second-rate power subordinate to the Tianyan Sect.
Their deaths were not particularly gruesome. There were no severed limbs, and there were very few signs of a struggle. It was as if their lives had been snatched away while they were dreaming.
But looking closer, each person had a thumb-sized black hole in the center of their forehead. The skin around the wounds showed a bizarre purplish-black color, as if instantly corroded by some kind of virulent poison.
The most heart-wrenching part was their eyes. Within their sockets, the eyeballs had turned completely cloudy and petrified. Their faces still held the expressions they had in their final moments—not of fear, but of bewilderment.
“The essence blood hasn’t dried; they died recently.”
Wu Yan walked forward, her shoes making no sound as they stepped on the wet mud. She crouched down, extending two slender fingers to inspect the wound on a female corpse.
the wound marks were familiar, looking very much like the methods of those Demonic Cultivators.
“It’s the ‘Soul-Snatching Nail’.”
Bai Zhiqiu’s voice was cold, carrying a rare trace of fury.
“This is a common method used by those rats from the gutters of the Western Wilderness. Not only do they kill and steal treasures, they extract the soul and refine the spirit, leaving no chance for reincarnation. Those animals!”
If it was the Western Wilderness, then it wasn’t surprising.
The majority of Demonic Cultivators from the Western Wilderness used insidious and wicked methods; the Xuesha Sect was a prime example.
Yu Qingyao stood to the side, looking at the corpses, her hands tightening inside her sleeves.
In her past life, she had seen too many scenes like this. In that future where order had collapsed, the lives of righteous disciples were cheaper than grass. Dying at the hands of a Demonic Cultivator meant it was hard to even leave an intact corpse behind. This familiar scent of death made her feel physically nauseous.
“My, how disgusting. These little rats just love using such low-class little tricks.”
A voice of extreme disdain rang in Wu Yan’s ear.
Wu Yan (Inner) hovered over the corpses, pinching her nose and frowning.
Wu Yan ignored the red-clothed phantom beside her. She stood up, her expression as cold as a block of ice.
“Gu Jian, recover the remains. Take their Identity Jade Tablets so they can be returned to the Qingmu Sect.”
“Yes!” Gu Jian replied in a muffled voice. He began silently clearing the scene with the two pale-faced outer disciples.
Wu Yan turned to look at Bai Zhiqiu. “Miss Bai, can you calculate the killers’ whereabouts?”
“Hmph, if I let them escape, I’ll write the name Bai Zhiqiu backward!” Bai Zhiqiu let out a cold snort. She bit her fingertip and let a drop of bright red blood fall into the center of the Lopan.
“Buzz—”
The Lopan let out a sharp hum. The needle vibrated violently before pointing dead-on toward a patch of black forest to the southwest.
“Southwest, five miles.” A flash of killing intent appeared in Bai Zhiqiu’s eyes. “Three people at the Foundation Building Stage, moving rapidly. They are carrying special concealment artifacts, but in front of this lady, those are nothing but decorations!”
“Three at the Foundation Building Stage…” Wu Yan repeated in a low voice.
If they were Golden Core Demonic Cultivators, they might have needed to deliberate further, given they had just finished a battle.
But since they were only at the Foundation Building Stage, she and Bai Zhiqiu should be able to handle it—not to mention that Qingyao and Gu Jian were no pushovers either.
If they allowed this band of Demonic Cultivators to roam free, there was no telling how many more fellow disciples would suffer.
“Chase.”
Wu Yan did not hesitate for a second. Her figure turned into a white rainbow as she took the lead, charging into the black forest to the southwest. Gu Jian and the others followed immediately after finishing with the bodies.