Bang!!!
Jiang Che slipped for a moment, and his cane slammed heavily against a nearby tree trunk.
The recoil combined with the awkwardness of his right foot threw him completely off balance, and he fell hard, landing face-down in the dirt.
Luckily, his reflexes were quick enough that just before he hit the ground, he instinctively braced himself with his hand, barely lessening the impact.
This spared his fragile nose from directly hitting the mud in an embarrassing mess.
Still, his arm and knee scraped against the rough earth, burning with sharp pain.
“Sigh.”
Jiang Che didn’t complain about the pain; instead, he let out a heavy breath.
He had just been recalling the figure of his Master, Lin Yin. He didn’t know why she came to mind—it was a thought without reason.
He should be hating her, after all.
At that moment, Jiang Che felt a raindrop land on the tip of his nose.
The sky was overcast with dense clouds, and soon fine raindrops began to fall.
The rain itself was no surprise, but the sudden cold wind sent a strange chill down Jiang Che’s spine.
***
Several hundred meters from the Ruined Temple, on a slightly open patch of land, Feng Yaqin weighed a small cloth pouch in her hand. Inside were a dozen or so Ling Stones.
Her brows furrowed slightly as she glared at Elder Meng with dissatisfaction.
“Elder Meng, you’re a dignified Elder, and you only brought this little? Is my father really that stingy?”
Elder Meng remained silent, already heading back toward the sect.
Who would have thought he’d be stopped by this girl and have his Ling Stones “borrowed.”
But since he had watched her grow up, he had to indulge her.
“Sigh, I spent quite a bit on intelligence gathering on the way here. If you think it’s not enough, why not come back to the sect with me to get more?”
“Elder Meng, trying to trick me into going back to the sect again? Do you still think I’m a three-year-old?”
Recalling the past, it was Elder Meng who had raised Feng Yaqin.
“Huh? It’s raining?”
Feng Yaqin looked up just as a raindrop splashed on her cheek.
The rain steadily intensified, and a cold wind swept through. The eyes of both Feng Yaqin and Elder Meng suddenly stiffened, their gazes locking onto the same direction.
“Uncle Meng! What’s that?” Feng Yaqin’s voice dropped slightly.
“Judging by the aura, I can’t sense the exact cultivation stage, but it’s at least someone at the Void Refining Stage. But why appear here, and why bring along a trace of demonic energy?”
Elder Meng’s face grew grave as he immediately grabbed Feng Yaqin’s hand.
“Holy Maiden, no matter which senior this is, we shouldn’t stay here any longer. Follow me!”
The reason for Elder Meng’s panic was simple.
The cultivation stages were: Body Refining, Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, Nascent Soul, Soul Transformation, Void Refining, Integration, and Great Ascension.
Both he and Feng Yaqin were at Nascent Soul Stage—called Demonic Infant Stage among magic cultivators.
They were facing someone at least two realms above them, who was openly releasing their aura without concealment. The intention was clearly hostile.
Facing this pressure, Feng Yaqin only stared toward the direction.
Not for any other reason, but because Jiang Che was there—dangerously close to that terrifying aura.
***
Jiang Che was not faring well.
The instant the eerie cold wind blew over him, he felt his entire body stiffen, as if invisible shackles bound him, leaving not a single finger able to move!
But relying on his keen hearing, he caught the sound of approaching footsteps—slow and soft, definitely female.
Through the curtain of rain, Lin Yin strolled toward Jiang Che, still dressed in her signature white robe. Yet, her brows were darkened with a swirling black energy, her gaze icy and cold.
After leaving the Ironforge, Lin Yin did not return to the Shenxiao Sect but flew toward Shuiquan Village, not far from here, still holding onto hope.
However, the old master’s words deeply affected her state of mind, and because of this, the inner demon seized the opportunity to invade her spirit.
In a daze, she passed by Jiang Che wielding his cane. Under the demon’s influence, the roughly ten-year-old boy before her gradually transformed into her towering, handsome Main Disciple.
“Che’er…”
Lin Yin’s voice trembled as her hand unconsciously reached out to touch Jiang Che’s face.
She even doubted if this was just an illusion.
That familiar voice pierced his ears, and Jiang Che clenched his teeth tighter.
The cold rain was nothing compared to the piercing sting of that voice! His whole body froze instantly, instinctively holding his breath as a complex wave of emotions surged within him.
How could he not recognize that voice? Jiang Che slowly opened his mouth to say “Master” when Lin Yin’s hand was about to touch him.
But just then, a red blur suddenly flashed past.
Jiang Che felt himself being lifted, his body suddenly freed from those strange bonds.
The rapid movement carried a chill wind and raindrops striking his face.
He even smelled a familiar herbal scent mixed with the aroma of the braised chicken he’d cooked earlier that evening.
“Little Che, are you alright?”
Feng Yaqin’s urgent voice entered Jiang Che’s ears like cool spring water splashing over his face.
The emotions stirred by the presence of his Master just moments ago were significantly diluted.
Now Jiang Che was being held in a princess carry by Feng Yaqin, whose warmth stood out all the more in the cold, rainy night.
Feng Yaqin glanced over Jiang Che, noticing the scrapes on his palm, arm, and knee, and a pang of bitterness rose in her heart.
“You fell. Does it hurt?”
Jiang Che was a little stunned. He hadn’t expected Feng Yaqin to notice such small details even in the rain—this was hardly like her usual lazy self who occasionally teased him.
“I… I’m fine.”
Jiang Che steadied his emotions and continued, “Put me down first.”
Feng Yaqin nodded and gently set Jiang Che on the ground, then turned to face the faint figure in the rain.
The raindrops soaked her red dress, clinging to her flawless figure, outlining breathtaking curves.
Her face, often graced with a coquettish smile, was now solemn beyond words.
She lowered her posture and respectfully bowed to Lin Yin.
“Senior, may I ask the reason for your appearance here?”
At this moment, Feng Yaqin dared not hold the air of a Demonic Infant Stage Holy Maiden.
The aura emanating from Lin Yin was something she had only ever sensed from her father, who was two or three hundred years old.
If it were just her, it might be manageable. But Jiang Che was beside her. She had to place his safety above all else.
Lin Yin’s hand hung suspended in the air, reaching to touch Jiang Che’s hand but not descending.
She was still somewhat mentally foggy, completely focused on Jiang Che.
So much so that she hadn’t even noticed Feng Yaqin’s sudden appearance, which allowed the latter to move Jiang Che safely to the side.
Demonic energy?
The aura from Feng Yaqin seemed to clear Lin Yin’s mind slightly.
“Magic cultivator?” Lin Yin muttered softly.
Then she saw Feng Yaqin shielding Jiang Che behind her, and for some reason, a sharp sting pierced Lin Yin’s heart, a wave of anger surging up.
Today, she felt unlike herself, but the sting made her give up trying to think clearly.
Her raised right hand lowered into a half-clenched fist, and suddenly, a spiritual sword appeared in her palm.
It was her destined spirit sword—the Qingluan Sword.
“Die!”
Lin Yin’s voice was ice-cold and bone-chilling, her eyes dark and fierce.
The white light of the Qingluan Sword surged wildly as a torrent of azure-blue sword energy, brimming with vast celestial power, tore through the rain with a ripping sound and mercilessly slashed toward Feng Yaqin.
Feng Yaqin cursed inwardly: Where did this lunatic come from? Not a word, just attacking!
The sword energy flew swiftly toward her. Elder Meng, who had been following right behind Feng Yaqin, instantly flashed beside her.
No time for words; both immediately understood what to do.
They pushed their palms out together, unleashing their Demonic Infant Stage true essence, doing their utmost to block Lin Yin’s attack.
Elder Meng believed that a casual strike from a Void Refining Stage elder could be resisted if he and Feng Yaqin put in their full effort.
If they could withstand this blow, then they could use their centuries of experience and worldly wisdom to reason with this senior, hoping to be let go.
What they didn’t know was that Jiang Che’s Master, Lin Yin, had long since reached the Great Perfection of the Golden Core at the Void Refining Stage, though for unknown reasons, she had been stuck at this stage for over a decade.
Her strength was revered as the greatest female sword cultivator in Shenxiao Sect’s thousands of years of history!