Chapter 19: The Enemy Part 3

A thread of blood crept from the corner of his lips; he wiped it away a moment later.

Qingshan Qi rushed over. “Brother!”

Lin Zhuoyu waved a hand to show he was fine and slowly pushed his thin frame upright, gazing ahead.

The Spirit Solidification Realm truly is overwhelming. Far beyond what the Origin Core stage can withstand.

The moment his gaze landed on the Fox Demon slowly taking human form in the distance, Lin Zhuoyu went rigid, planted to the spot.

The demon’s human form was taller than any he’d ever seen, the tilt of its eyes foxlike; a vicious scar cut across its face, lending it a savage, brutal air. Bare from the waist up, corded muscle showed as it walked, each step printing a deep pit into the earth.

The Great Demon met Lin Zhuoyu’s eyes, tilted its head slightly, and said flatly, “The God of Slaughter’s disciple. Your reputation is well earned. A pity—talent no matter how high, today you die here.”

At the sound of the Great Demon’s voice, Lin Zhuoyu’s eyes went slowly, slowly wide, and the sword nearly slipped from his hand.

That voice…

The Great Demon swept its arm with a thunderous crack; Spirit Solidification spiritual power ground everything around it to dust, and the commoners who didn’t escape in time became mist of blood without even a single scream.

Seeing that Lin Zhuoyu seemed frozen in shock, the Great Demon said, “Hm? Not running?”

Lin Zhuoyu’s whole body trembled. His pale lips moved faintly, as if to say something—and suddenly Qingshan Qi seized his hand and bolted, dragging him away at a dead run.

Lin Zhuoyu’s palm was ice-cold; his body still shuddered.

Qingshan Qi gripped his hand tight, feeling that frozen temperature.

So… he can be afraid too.

Lin Zhuoyu’s consciousness swam; his skull hummed in waves. At his ears he could even hear the faint sound of his heart and veins funneling blood.

Thump. Thump.

Then he suddenly heard a heartbeat, tangled together with the rolling thunder, impossible to tell apart.

The damp rain-qi of Chaoping Marsh clung like a shadow. With the downpour falling, a hand slowly stroked his face.

“Little Yu…”

Lin Zhuoyu, soaked through, struggled and flung himself at the person before him. “Brother!”

Lin Chengbi was covered in blood, impossible to tell whose. He pushed the still-small Lin Zhuoyu away and said with a gentle smile, “Be good. Hide, and hide well.”

“Brother!”

Lin Chengbi pushed himself up on a broken sword and put himself in front. Though not yet of age, the youth’s frame already carried the beginnings of a giant’s. The rain beat down on his handsome, bloodless face. Origin Core stage against a Spirit Solidification Great Demon—and yet not a flicker of fear or cowardice in his eyes.

A Fox Demon came out of the rain and, taking human form, walked slowly toward Lin Chengbi.

BOOM!

Lightning split the sky, its pallid blood-light illuminating the Great Demon’s face—

from the left eye across the right cheek, a ferocious scar.

“Brother?! BROTHER!”

Lin Zhuoyu spun around sharply—and in the blink of his distraction, by some means he couldn’t fathom, Qingshan Qi had brought them to the edge of the Barrier.

But the Great Demon’s spiritual power was overwhelming; it had already sealed the surroundings shut without a single seam.

Even Teleportation Talismans were useless here.

“Brother, what do we do? We can’t get out!” Qingshan Qi cried in panic.

Lin Zhuoyu’s body was still shaking uncontrollably, and for a moment he said nothing.

Qingshan Qi sneered inwardly.

If I’d known a single Spirit Solidification Great Demon would send this man fleeing in a shivering panic, I wouldn’t have bothered staging this whole performance.

Not far away, the villagers had barely escaped—only to find hope right before their eyes, blocked by a transparent Barrier.

The crowd wept and beat against it, wailing in despair.

“Help—”

“Save me!”

“Manifest, Fox Immortal! Fox Immortal…”

Heavy footsteps sounded in the distance. Every step fell like a death warrant, and the crowd screamed and screamed.

This is how the Fox Clan toys with human hearts.

Lin Zhuoyu’s fingers twitched, and quickly he stilled the trembling, gripping his sword firm and steady.

Looked at closely, his cheeks still carried a sickly flush, and even his breathing had quickened.

Qingshan Qi pulled out the storage pouch Lin Zhuoyu had given him and produced the Lu family’s Spirit Grade Teleportation Artifact. “Brother, quickly—this artifact is high grade! It can ignore any Barrier and teleport us thousands of li!”

Lin Zhuoyu looked down at the artifact.

Qingshan Qi stared straight at him. Beneath that docile, obedient shell, a ferocious malice faintly showed.

After playing this role for so long, the finale has finally arrived.

Thousands of innocent people, and his own life—faced with the choice between life and death, what would this man choose?

Lin Zhuoyu took the sundial-like artifact and turned it over. “And how do I use this?”

Qingshan Qi nearly laughed.

Exquisite Heart?

Hah. No different from the rest.

Even a saint with the most crystal-clear heart, in the face of life and death, will choose to be selfish and cling to life.

“Pour your spiritual power into it,” Qingshan Qi said, “and turn the gnomon needle to the hour of Zi. It will teleport you.”

Lin Zhuoyu nodded thoughtfully and reached out to move the needle—and Qingshan Qi added, “Though this Teleportation Artifact can only carry one person at a time.”

Lin Zhuoyu froze. “A Spirit Grade artifact, and it only carries one? How is that any different from a Teleportation Talisman?”

The corner of Qingshan Qi’s mouth twitched. “There is some difference.”

“Oh.”

Lin Zhuoyu tightened his grip on the artifact and stepped back several paces, away from Qingshan Qi, closing his eyes to channel spiritual power.

Qingshan Qi knew he was about to leave.

Abandoning the innocent people he’d sworn to protect. Abandoning “Little Qi,” grievously injured saving him. Walking away alone.

Just then, Lin Zhuoyu turned around.

Qingshan Qi’s heart leapt with such vindictive joy that he nearly failed to rein in the unbridled malice on his face. Fortunately, Lin Zhuoyu noticed nothing amiss. “Don’t move,” he said.

Qingshan Qi looked at him timidly. “Brother.”

Lin Zhuoyu smiled. “Don’t be afraid.”

Seeing him still putting on an act even now, Qingshan Qi nodded along obligingly.

Watching those long fingers work the artifact, Qingshan Qi thought idly:

Once this Exquisite Heart activates the artifact and departs, reveling in his escape—when he opens his eyes, he’ll find himself in the Great Demon’s lair…

Will that beautiful face be utterly consumed by terror and despair? Will he weep pitifully and beg for his life?

A smile curled onto Qingshan Qi’s face. He was even beginning to look forward to it.

The Great Demon’s footsteps drew closer and closer.

Just as Qingshan Qi stood at the height of triumph, he suddenly felt something settle onto the ground beneath his feet.

A formation array like a sundial appeared without warning, rotating as it wrapped around Qingshan Qi’s body.

Lin Zhuoyu examined the intricate, labyrinthine artifact and said admiringly, “Whoa. It really is Spirit Grade. Works nicely.”

Qingshan Qi’s smile froze on his face.

Only belatedly did he realize—Lin Zhuoyu had given the Teleportation Artifact to him. Every delicious imagining in his heart crumbled to powder in an instant, and he stood rooted in place.

A long moment passed before Qingshan Qi came back to himself, his face nearly twisted out of shape, grinding words out through his teeth. “Brother… you’re not leaving?”

“You said it could only carry one person?” Lin Zhuoyu sounded puzzled.

“But—my life is the one you saved, Brother! It was never worth anything!”

Lin Zhuoyu frowned. “Who taught you to talk like that? Is a life something you’re allowed to weigh on a scale?”

“But—”

“Say no more.” Lin Zhuoyu raised a hand and cast the Spirit Mustard Seed far away, shrouding the despairing, agonized villagers, and added his parting instructions in an offhand tone.

“If I should fall here today, please go to Floating Jade Mountain and deliver one message to my Shizun.”

Every thread of Qingshan Qi’s thoughts tangled into ruin. He answered, dazed, “What message?”

“Tell him: ‘Wuyou dies here, and has no regrets in this life.'”

“What?” Qingshan Qi said.

Dead is dead—everything turns to nothing. How can there be no regrets?

For some reason, Lin Zhuoyu laughed aloud, turning his head to look at the Great Demon striding toward him step by step—and his hands began trembling uncontrollably again.

But it was not fear.

It was an unspeakable exhilaration, a wild euphoria.

That slender frame, barely grown into a young man’s, quivered with excitement until he could scarcely hold his sword.

The heartbeat that had seemed frozen in place since childhood roared back to life the instant he laid eyes on the Great Demon.

Thump. Thump-thump.

Like hope newly born, Lin Zhuoyu felt a joy he had never known.

Never again does he have to stand by, helpless, a spectator. Never again does he have to live groveling, a painted pillow protected by everyone around him.

He had strength enough now—and what staggering luck: on his very first training journey beyond the sect, he had found the culprit who killed his brother, so that he could cut down, with his own hands, the nightmare that had haunted him for years.

Qingshan Qi stared at him, uncomprehending, his thoughts souring into restlessness.

It isn’t supposed to be like this.

Lin Zhuoyu should be like those Lu family people—turning on each other for the artifact, clawing at “survival” with ugly desperation, ruining that heaven-gifted Exquisite Heart completely.

Why would he hand the chance at life to a stranger he’d known mere days?

Why?

By what right?

Qingshan Qi’s pupils had gone nearly bloodshot. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself forward and bury his teeth in that man’s throat.

By what right can he walk into death so honorably, so openly?!

Suddenly, Lin Zhuoyu said, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, all day…”

“What?”

“Never mind.” Lin Zhuoyu smiled. “It’s not really important.”

BOOM!

The Great Demon was only a few zhang away now. The ground began to collapse, and Fox Fire spread burning in its wake.

Lin Zhuoyu’s voice was so light—yet every word carried the weight of a thousand jun, crashing down on Qingshan Qi’s heart.

“That jade pendant of yours…”

Qingshan Qi’s hand moved instinctively to shield the broken pendant in his sleeve.

Amid the collapsing sky and earth, Lin Zhuoyu said musingly, “When I was young, I lost part of my memory to a grave injury. I don’t remember where I met you.”

Qingshan Qi froze, not understanding the mad rambling.

“I suppose what I wanted to ask,” Lin Zhuoyu said evenly, “was whether you and I knew each other as children—and how my jade pendant came to be in your hands…”

But the road ahead held only life or death, unknown. Asking would change nothing.

The jade pendant…

What is Lin Zhuoyu saying?

Qingshan Qi stood utterly dumbfounded.

Those few short sentences seemed to demolish his Sea of Consciousness outright; his body shook without his consent.

Some most-precious thing seemed to be slipping away through his fingers, guided by fate itself. Instinctively, he reached out a hand toward Lin Zhuoyu, trying to seize whatever it was.

His voice came out raw, as though soaked in blood, one word at a time. “What do you mean… your jade pendant?”

Lin Zhuoyu didn’t grant him an answer. He only tossed him one more piece of candy—and fully activated the Teleportation Artifact.

The gale whipped Lin Zhuoyu’s robes into a frenzy. Through the tangle of his windblown black hair, he looked at Qingshan Qi and smiled, his voice drifting to Qingshan Qi’s ear through the deafening collapse.

“Get out.”

In that instant, the memory sealed away for years in Qingshan Qi’s mind crawled out like a sly, malicious ghost.

The dying child, tearing open the Cage, said to him:

“…Get out.”

Qingshan Qi’s pupils contracted violently. He lunged forward, desperate to seize Lin Zhuoyu—

Too late.

The Teleportation Artifact he had brought with his own hands flared to life in an instant, and his figure was carried away to a hundred li beyond.

“LIN—!”

The artifact was terribly fast. The void twisted before Qingshan Qi’s eyes; his long hair and robes billowed as if brushed by wind, then fell silently still.

When his vision next focused, he was standing in the Demon Race’s sleeping hall on Lingshu Mountain. Qingshan Qi trembled from head to toe, his pupils snapping into vicious, blood-red vertical slits.

“LIN ZHUOYU!”