“Shua la!”
Against the rosy dawn, a clump of frozen waterweed broke through the surface.
Gu Xianyu gave it a quick flick with her small hand, tossing it onto the lakeshore. Lifting her gaze, she saw her Master floating leisurely in the sky, watching her with a quiet intensity.
Even though her Master had no eyes.
“What exactly are you thinking?” Jiang Tong sighed. “Good disciple, be obedient—let’s withdraw from this mission.”
“…It’s worth eight hundred contribution points.”
Jiang Tong held back the urge to flick her forehead. “You’re only at the mid-Foundation Establishment stage. The other side has already reached the Golden Core, and not just early Golden Core either.”
“So what?”
The girl placed her hands on her hips, sounding a little lacking in confidence. “I’m not just an ordinary mid-Foundation Establishment either.”
“…” Jiang Tong was at a loss for words.
Ever since he’d taught her, in a fit of youthful zeal, that “a sword cultivator must charge forward bravely,” this good disciple’s mind had become a single taut string—stubborn to the core.
Almost as stubborn as Jiang Yueliu, though Jiang Yueliu would never show it so plainly.
“Ai…” He let out a long sigh, knowing he couldn’t change his disciple’s mind, and finally gave in a little.
“We’ll agree in advance—just find the person, don’t engage. Once you’ve located him, return immediately. Don’t use any secret tracking tricks—just report to the Sect where he was last seen.”
Although this might not earn the full eight hundred points, getting a portion shouldn’t be a problem.
“Got it.” The girl tilted her head. “Master is always like this.”
“Like what?”
“A little…naggy.” The young disciple smiled shyly, head lowered. “But, I like Master’s nagging.”
It made her feel cared for, warming her heart.
“I’m just afraid if you die, there’ll be no one to take care of me in my old age.”
“…”
Gu Xianyu bent down, pulled up a large chunk of frozen weeds, and tossed it onto the bank, muttering quietly,
“Master, you’re the worst.”
The morning mist gradually dissipated. In the great mountains where immortals cultivated, a handsome horse stepped forth.
The horse was fine, but its rider was even finer.
Saddle, armor, sweat-dampened mane; a girl in azure robes with willow-like brows.
The young girl held the reins, carrying a second-grade spiritual sword, a gift from Jiang Tong, strapped across her back. She squeezed her legs against the horse’s flanks, white ankles adorned with bells tied by red string, chiming rhythmically as the horse moved.
In this getup, she looked less silly and a bit more like a wandering heroine.
“So tell me,”
Jiang Tong glanced at those snow-white thighs and said wistfully, “Why does your Master have to be here?”
“Doesn’t Master think the bell looks better on my ankle than on my hand?” Gu Xianyu replied innocently.
“…”
Jiang Tong lowered his head. Her cute toes in the straw sandals were right in front of him, beside the smooth expanse of her lower leg.
“I don’t think so—hurry and put your Master back where he belongs.”
“Relax, Master, it’s tied very tightly.” The girl in azure tugged on the reins. “Just for one day. Tonight I’ll wear Master on my hand again.”
Jiang Tong glanced at her leg and gritted his teeth. “Fine.”
He suspected this girl was doing it on purpose. Ever since he’d joked about a foot fetish, his little disciple had gotten clever.
Anyway, he couldn’t actually do anything—she just dangled him there, helpless, and all he could do was itch with frustration.
Was it because of that sharp remark in the morning?
But this kind of payback was still a bit childish.
Jiang Tong shifted his gaze away helplessly. He really didn’t have any weird fetishes.
Sigh, time to put on some authority as a Master, lest the little disciple think her teacher is a lecher.
Muttering under his breath, he continued on the road. In the blink of an eye, four days passed.
The spirit horse was tireless, carrying them across half of Qingyang Prefecture. Jiang Tong and Gu Xianyu were in no rush; they first went to survey the massacred village.
What they saw was unbearable—a scene of utter carnage. Not a single intact corpse could be found. Most people had been reduced to puddles of blood, smeared across the ground.
They asked questions as they searched. Eyewitnesses were extremely scarce, but they did manage to visit a few Golden Core cultivators.
Hearing they were disciples of the Shangyuan Sect, the cultivators—even though Gu Xianyu was only at Foundation Establishment—were very courteous and offered a few clues.
Masked in black, the culprits were silent and ruthless, killing without a word…
It was as good as nonsense.
What kind of clue was that?
The most useful lead was the patch of black mist. After Yuan Nuhe released the black mist, it brought excruciating, ant-biting pain, devouring both body and soul.
Leaving Yizhou Prefecture, they rode on to Kaizhou Prefecture.
The mountain stream gurgled. Gu Xianyu dismounted, and the sweating blood horse snorted, drinking and grazing by the creek.
The girl slipped off her straw sandals, scooped a handful of clear water, and drank her fill.
Then she dipped her pale feet into the stream, gently swaying them. The red-string bell was washed by the current, chiming in the water.
She still hadn’t put the bell back on her hand, and Jiang Tong tacitly allowed it.
“How many places left?” Jiang Tong asked.
The State of Qian was a vassal of the Shangyuan Sect; a large part of Qingyang Prefecture belonged to Qian.
“Tongzhou, Yizhou, Luzhou…” Gu Xianyu wiggled her toes, opened the map, and said, a little disappointed, “Only Kaizhou Prefecture left.”
Jiang Tong unconsciously let out a sigh of relief. Compared to letting his little disciple take risks, he’d much rather she stayed cautious.
The drive of a sword cultivator needed to be built on real strength. Charging around blindly was just foolishness.
“If we can’t find him in Kaizhou Prefecture, let’s go back,” Jiang Tong’s soul form gently stroked his disciple’s toes, speaking softly.
“If Yuan Nuhe has really left Qian, tracking him will be much harder. Don’t take that risk.”
“That’s not good…” The girl was a little hesitant.
Jiang Tong sighed. “Listen—”
“I mean, Master, you’re not good.”
“Huh?”
The little disciple shifted her leg awkwardly, biting her lip. Her eyes were a little annoyed as she looked at him:
“If you want to talk, just talk, don’t tickle around like cotton—it’s so itchy.”
“Was I? Soul forms are like that.” Jiang Tong calmly pulled his touch away. “Did you hear what I just said?”
“I heard!”
Gu Xianyu shouted, stopping her awkward wriggling.
Jiang Tong smiled, about to say something else—
Suddenly, his face stiffened. He quickly concealed his presence, returning to the bell.
There was faint movement behind them.
“Who’s there?!”
The girl reacted swiftly, shouting sternly. She grabbed her sword, slipped on her straw sandals, and leapt into the dense forest in pursuit.
She was rather anxious—not because she feared being overheard just now, but because she was afraid Jiang Tong…
What if Master’s existence was discovered by the enemy?
If that really happened…
A chill flashed in the girl’s eyes. Without a word, she tightened her grip on her sword.
The forest was complicated and tangled. The other party seemed to have some means of concealing their aura and quickly vanished into the shadows.
Even as Jiang Tong focused his divine sense, he couldn’t pinpoint a direction.
Chasing on, Gu Xianyu gradually slowed, frowning as she wondered which way to go.
“Left,” Jiang Tong opened his eyes, sensing a vague direction.
“Ahhh!”
Just then, a woman’s shrill scream came from the left side of the woods.
The girl didn’t hesitate, using her movement technique. Within ten breaths, she reached a clearing.
Seeing the scene before her, Gu Xianyu was shocked, but she didn’t rush forward rashly.
A young woman in yellow was struggling desperately. Her right arm was wrapped in tendrils of black mist, from which faint sobbing and wailing could be heard.
Looking closer sent chills down one’s spine.
The woman’s right forearm had been gnawed down to stark white bone, blood gushing out.
“Help! Fellow Daoist, help…”
Upon seeing Gu Xianyu, the woman’s gray, lifeless eyes lit up, as if she’d glimpsed a thread of hope, and she cried out for help.
The girl frowned, about to approach with her sword to investigate, when Jiang Tong’s voice sounded in her mind.
“Xianyu, get back!”
The woman in yellow had already stood up. With a wave of her hand, the black mist unfurled and swept toward them!
The girl reacted quickly, retreating several steps. But the black mist followed like a shadow.
Gritting her teeth, she was pondering other solutions when Jiang Tong emerged from the bell—rushing headlong into the black mist without hesitation!
The black mist froze in place, ceasing its pursuit.
“Master!”
All this happened within two seconds. Gu Xianyu cried out, her eyes turning red.
She—she hadn’t even shown Master the stars yet…
Without thinking, Gu Xianyu charged at the black mist, sword in hand, determined to rescue her Master.
The woman in yellow sneered coldly, extending her bony right hand toward Gu Xianyu.
“Give me back my Master!” the girl roared, refusing to dodge as she swung her sword.
Clang!
Bone and blade clashed, and Gu Xianyu was forced back a few steps. The woman’s cultivation at late Foundation Establishment was exposed.
In the next instant, the girl attacked again, like a little cat ready to bite.
The woman’s expression shifted as she barely fended off the girl’s desperate onslaught, instinctively glancing at the black mist.
Why couldn’t she sense the Thousand Souls Mist anymore?
Little did she know, within the black mist at that moment—
Jiang Tong gazed at the essence of countless souls before him, and even his soul form felt the urge to drool.
Tsk, tsk.
All of this… is a great tonic indeed…