Lin Zhuoyu was still sitting beneath the lamp. Seeing its ferocious appearance, he propped his chin on one hand and said with a smile, “Ooh, seizing by force? But even if you get my body, you’ll never get my heart.”
The Violet Fox: “?”
Unable to comprehend why he spoke so strangely, it chalked it up to “humans are all mad.” Baring its teeth viciously, fox fire blazing across its body, it pounced at Lin Zhuoyu.
The carriage wasn’t exactly cramped, but it couldn’t compare to a training ground either. With a “yo-ho,” Lin Zhuoyu kicked the small desk with his bare toes, sending the wooden table spinning through the air to smash into the Violet Fox’s face.
Crash!
The Violet Fox’s sharp claws shattered the desk.
Lin Zhuoyu carefully stowed away the Records of the Demon Race that Daoist Lord Tongxu had spent considerable effort to procure, then unhurriedly flicked his folded hem. “I’ve heard that when a beast cultivates into a demon, the first stage is ‘Wisdom Awakening.’ But from what I see, you’ve skipped straight to the second stage, ‘Soul Condensation.’ Could it be exceptional talent?”
The Violet Fox said coldly, “I didn’t skip straight to the second—”
Only after finishing did it belatedly realize Lin Zhuoyu wasn’t paying it a compliment. It flew into a rage at once. “You’re seeking death!”
Lin Zhuoyu laughed aloud. “Qingru, come!”
Qingru transformed into a current of water, drifting down behind him like an immortal’s ribbon. Water mist rose and swiftly extinguished the fox fire within the carriage.
The Profound Flying Steed had been a birthday gift from Daoist Lord Tongxu for his eighth birthday. Lin Zhuoyu gave a soft whistle, and the steed plunged down from the vast heights of the sky, reaching the rolling mountains below in just a few breaths.
The Violet Fox, caught completely off guard, was abruptly assailed by weightlessness, its whole body slammed against the carriage roof.
Gripping the walls with all four limbs, it wrenched its jaws open and spewed scorching flames that swept toward Lin Zhuoyu amid the chaos of freefall.
Lin Zhuoyu flung up a hand to block.
The flames had been condensed from the Violet Fox’s extraordinarily rare heart’s blood, steaming away the protective mist of Qingru, and like a gaping maw they swallowed Lin Zhuoyu’s slender figure whole.
The favored child of heaven, doted on and cherished by Daoist Lord Tongxu, was nothing more than an embroidered pillow that had never seen the world. No matter how tightly he was guarded, he couldn’t escape the fate of being devoured.
Although the Violet Fox’s life-bound fox fire couldn’t burn through Lin Zhuoyu’s protective restriction, it was more than enough to cast the Bewitchment Art.
Brimming with hatred as he was, Lin Zhuoyu would surely sink beneath ten layers of illusion, drowning in that false yet beautiful dreamscape, “getting everything he wished for.”
With a thunderous boom—!
The Profound Flying Steed shrieked as it finally landed, kicking up dust.
The Violet Fox tumbled straight out the window, skidding dozens of zhang before halting. It licked the blood from the corner of its lips and was just about to devour the illusion-trapped Lin Zhuoyu when it suddenly sensed something wrong.
A beast’s primal instinct toward danger made the fur along its spine stand on end.
Before it could react, the carriage’s ornate curtain was swept aside. An azure figure brushed through the fox fire, bare feet stepping on water droplets suspended in midair, scattering translucent spray that hung frozen in the air.
The Violet Fox was stunned. “You actually—!”
The Violet Fox’s Bewitchment Art could hook out the hidden desires buried deepest in the heart even of cultivators who had mastered the Dao of Emotionlessness.
Wrapped in fox fire, yet it hadn’t drawn out a shred of desire from Lin Zhuoyu?!
Did such a person truly exist in this world?
Lin Zhuoyu moved like the wind. Slender, long fingers suddenly sprouted vine-like sigils at the knuckles as he seized the Violet Fox’s neck and slammed it against the mountainside.
Bang!
The strike carried the force of thunder; beasts and birds across the mountains fled in terror.
Lin Zhuoyu’s sleeves carried clear, winding water that coiled around him in nine bends and eighteen turns. The golden peach blossom pattern between his brows flashed once as two Gold Talismans transformed into chains, binding the fox without a seam.
Without so much as a blink, he said flatly, “A beast that hasn’t even awakened wisdom—does it not know water and fire cannot mix?”
The Violet Fox hadn’t expected his cultivation to be so formidable. Incredulously, it demanded, “You have… an Exquisite Heart?!”
Lin Zhuoyu didn’t understand what it was saying; his fingertips pressed harder.”Get out.”
The Violet Fox’s expression froze. He Xing’s own face surfaced. Even as dim as he was, he could tell something was wrong and blurted at once, “Zhuoyu, don’t worry about me!”
“Did you hear that?” Lin Zhuoyu raised an eyebrow. “He’s prepared to die together with you. If you don’t come out, I’ll kill him along with you.”
The Violet Fox: “?”
He Xing: “…”
The Dao of Possession cannot erase the original soul. The Violet Fox could sense the emotions within this body—bitterness and sorrow, but not a trace of resentment. Even a cow’s lowing reached its ears; listening closely, he was actually weeping in the depths of his soul.
The Violet Fox: “…”
It understood humans less and less. But it was certain the two shared a deep bond, and Lin Zhuoyu would never truly strike to kill.
Unexpectedly, Lin Zhuoyu couldn’t be bothered to waste more words. Qingru transformed directly into a sphere of water, encasing He Xing’s entire body.
Boundless Water poured instantly into He Xing’s mouth and nose. The Violet Fox’s soul seared with pain, and it let out a piercing shriek, driven to hide deep within He Xing’s sea of consciousness.
Seeing it still trying to occupy He Xing’s body, Lin Zhuoyu summoned his Eldest Senior Brother sword without a moment’s hesitation, stabbing at He Xing’s spirit platform without even a pause.
The Sword Intent was ferocious, driving straight for his Life Gate.
Shocked by his ruthlessness, the Violet Fox had no time to think; wrapping itself in fox fire, it struggled free of He Xing’s body.
Clang.
The sword tip stopped precisely half an inch from He Xing’s brow; the water sphere burst apart and was drawn back in.
Lin Zhuoyu flicked down one Gold Talisman to shield He Xing, who lay on the ground coughing ceaselessly, and the second Gold Talisman, like an arrow loosed from the bowstring, struck the Violet Fox directly.
Pfft!
Yan Su’s life-bound Gold Talisman was ferociously powerful; in a single instant it pierced through the Violet Fox’s abdomen, nailing it to the ground.
The Violet Fox had cultivated for decades, yet it had never imagined it couldn’t withstand even half a move from Lin Zhuoyu, who had barely come of age. A single strike had destroyed half its inner organs.
It suddenly regretted abandoning its devotion to the Big Dipper out of greed for this person’s spirit body.
This man came from Chaoping Marsh and was Daoist Lord Tongxu’s disciple—he could not possibly be the naive, innocent pretty-face the fox had assumed.
Lin Zhuoyu landed lightly, the Subtle Probe Art already formed between his palms.
Startled, the Violet Fox finally knew fear. Struggling, it spat out a mouthful of blood: “Don’t you want to know who was behind the massacre at Chaoping Marsh fifteen years ago? I… cough, cough… I can tell you, if only you let me go!”
“But how am I to trust you?” Lin Zhuoyu said, with evident interest. “One probe of your memories and I’ll know everything. Why go to all that trouble?”
“The Qingshan are the strongest of all fox clans.” The Violet Fox pressed a hand to its bleeding abdomen, voice trembling with every breath. “The purer a Qingshan Fox Clan member’s bloodline, the stronger their cultivation talent. Some foxes are born with an Origin Core. The chieftain placed a restriction on every fox who has ever seen him—even if you probe my soul, you will be stopped!”
Lin Zhuoyu narrowed his eyes, recalling the strange restriction that had seized the previous fox’s throat the moment it spoke the words “Qingshan.”
“Then how were you able to say so much?”
“I am a subordinate of the Qingshan Young Master. The restriction has been mostly suppressed through the Young Master’s secret arts.”
Chieftain? Young Master? Restriction?
Lin Zhuoyu had never seen a Great Demon; he’d always assumed foxes were nothing but savage and violent. The Violet Fox’s few short words shattered that entire impression.
Lin Zhuoyu asked, “What is the Qingshan Fox Clan chieftain’s name?”
The Violet Fox seemed utterly terrified, but for the sake of survival it still answered, shaking: “Qingshan… Sheng.”
Lin Zhuoyu chewed slowly on the name, his eyes ice-cold. “Where is he?”
“I-I don’t know! That’s all I know!”
Lin Zhuoyu looked down at it from above, as if judging the truth of its words—with the moonlight at his back, his features were indistinct; only the cold outline of his face could be seen.
The Violet Fox feigned weakness while secretly channeling spiritual power, trying to break the chains, a hand sign formed behind its back.
Beasts roared in the pitch-black depths of the mountains.
At that very moment, an art sigil dropped suddenly onto the fox’s brow.
The Violet Fox’s pupils contracted sharply. It stared at him in disbelief. “You—!”
Lin Zhuoyu activated the Subtle Probe Art, his features showing an impersonal coldness from his overlooking posture. “Foxes are cunning by nature. I don’t believe a word you say.”
The Violet Fox shrieked, “Every word I said was true!”
Lin Zhuoyu said mildly, “Then why did you summon so many of your kin?”
The bright moon hung high, pouring its light over the mountains.
Cultivators can see in the dark; with one casual glance, Lin Zhuoyu spotted more than a dozen demons with human bodies and fox heads, like the Violet Fox, racing toward him from every direction, surrounding him ferociously.
Qingru automatically became a protective restriction around Lin Zhuoyu. The nearest fox demon pounced—and in an instant the Boundless Water burned its claws alight; it shrieked and fell back.
Without so much as a glance, Lin Zhuoyu lowered his eyes and linked Subtle Probing to the Violet Fox’s sea of consciousness, breaking through like bamboo splitting under a blade.
The searing pain of the intrusion wracked the Violet Fox with convulsions. Screaming, it cried, “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! The Qingshan Fox Clan chieftain’s name is Qingshan Sheng! He holds grudges against Chaoping Marsh, Floating Jade Mountain, and the Yanxing Sect… Ah!”
Some word had touched the restriction. The sigil spread instantly from its throat, like a blood-colored collar cinching tight around its neck.
“Urgh!” The Violet Fox realized it had misspoken, pupils contracting violently as it struggled: “Young Master! Young Master Qi, save me—!”
Lin Zhuoyu drove straight into its sea of consciousness and, sure enough, found a restriction attempting to shred the Violet Fox’s spiritual sense.
In the scattered fragments of memory, what the Violet Fox had said earlier was nearly accurate.
The Qingshan Fox Clan chieftain’s true name really was “Qingshan Sheng.”
There was no time to lose. Lin Zhuoyu immediately drove his divine sense to break the restriction.
But just as he was focused on undoing it, a sound like shattering glass suddenly reached his ears.
Lin Zhuoyu froze and turned to look.
Unable to breach Lin Zhuoyu’s protective restriction, the dozen-odd demon foxes had switched targets and begun attacking He Xing.
And He Xing, unluckily, wasn’t moving at all—just lying there with vacant eyes while several foxes tore at the restriction over his chest.
Bang, bang, bang.
The life-preserving artifacts on He Xing’s body were shattering one by one.
Lin Zhuoyu’s expression changed. “Senior Brother He—!”
He Xing paid no heed, his hollow eyes staring at nothing, even a smile surfacing on his face as though immersed in the most beautiful of dreams—so beguiled that even the Gold Talisman Lin Zhuoyu had left on him drifted aside.
It was the Violet Fox’s Bewitchment Art.
When using Subtle Probing, one could not be distracted, still less channel spiritual power. Lin Zhuoyu’s mind surged with alarm; he nearly suffered the backlash early.
The sound of shattering glass still rang in his ears—and at the same time, the Violet Fox’s restriction was loosening, inch by inch.
For one instant, Lin Zhuoyu wavered.
The Violet Fox was about to be killed by the restriction; it certainly knew a great deal about “Qingshan Sheng.” Once missed, such luck might never come again in this lifetime.
But He Xing…
Lin Zhuoyu lowered his head slightly, gazing at the dying Violet Fox.
The blood feud unavenged, his elder brother’s body still unfound…
He had lived on in disgrace all these years; now that the enemy’s trail was finally within reach, no one—no one—could stop him.
He Xing’s consciousness drifted in a daze, floating in a beautiful dream of “Shizun’s praise, Senior Martial Uncle sighing ‘if only my eldest disciple could be as promising as Xing’er,’ and the Little Junior Brother clinging to him adoringly, swearing he’d become his Dao Companion or die trying.” He was grinning from ear to ear.
Just as he savored it, his chest felt seared by something.
He Xing shuddered all over and blearily awoke.
The Heart-Mirror Jade in his chest abruptly shattered, forcibly rousing his sanity.
Still muddled, He Xing’s gaze had barely focused when he saw a gaping maw lunging for his neck.
He Xing: “?!”
He instinctively struggled, but his limbs were pinned hard by other fox demons; there was no breaking free.
The last protective restriction had broken.
“Hel—”
He Xing, face deathly pale, had just begun to cry for help when a flash of water surged over from the side, knocking away the fox demon that had nearly bitten through his throat.
He Xing froze.
Qingru?
His whole body had gone limp, unable to move. The other fox demons, seeing this, viciously swiped out their claws; he instinctively shut his eyes.
Just then, a figure flung itself over from the side, wrapping around He Xing’s body and rolling aside in a tumbling flurry, just barely dodging the fox claws’ strike.
He Xing: “Little Junior Brother!”
Lin Zhuoyu snatched up the unused Gold Talisman on He Xing and shielded them both—but for some reason his face was paper-white, his breathing ragged, his forehead covered in cold sweat.
“Senior Brother He, are you all right?”
His speech was broken, two words at a time with a gasp between. The backlash from Subtle Probing was swift and brutal; the instant he abandoned the probe, his slender body had gone cold and trembling, his consciousness fogged, his spiritual power stalled—he couldn’t even condense water from Qingru anymore.
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” He Xing, terrified, hurried to support him. “What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?”
As the words left his mouth, He Xing felt his hand grow damp. He looked down at the hand bracing Lin Zhuoyu’s shoulder, and his face drained white.
It was blood.
When Lin Zhuoyu had knocked him down to dodge the fox claws, the fierce wind had sliced a gash of blood across his back.
Lin Zhuoyu was always so pampered and pretty, no matter the occasion. He Xing often teased that if he so much as scraped a finger, the whole of Floating Jade Mountain would be thrown into uproar.
Now Lin Zhuoyu had bled so much—and he was still asking whether He Xing was hurt.
He Xing’s eyes reddened instantly.
Seeing that He Xing still had the strength to moo, Lin Zhuoyu silently exhaled and closed his eyes wearily.
“Junior Brother! Wake up!”
The exhaustion of the backlash had all but drained him. He could hold on no longer and slipped into unconsciousness amid the drowsiness.
He Xing had no idea he had used Subtle Probing and was scared out of his wits. But it wasn’t over—the fox demons, realizing their leader had died a miserable death, roared in fury, and a dozen foxes flung themselves viciously at the two of them.
His life-bound artifact wasn’t with him and his spiritual power hadn’t recovered. Helpless, He Xing could only give a great cry and throw himself over Lin Zhuoyu, shielding him with his own flesh and blood.
Suddenly—BOOM!
A sword light struck like lightning, piercing precisely into the neck of the foremost fox. It had no time even to react before head and body parted, flesh flying.
He Xing had thought he would die here. He stared blankly at the sword planted three inches into the ground—the Wuyou.
When their Eldest Senior Brother was young, he had often used the Wuyou Sword to drill his junior brothers. Every time He Xing saw this sword, he remembered the sorry days of being chased screaming across the mountains, and gnashed his teeth in hatred.
This was the first time the Wuyou Sword made him want to cry—and to think, why did it come so slowly?
“Eldest Senior Brother! Eldest Senior Brother, save us! Little Junior Brother is hurt, he’s dying!”
Along with He Xing’s throat-tearing wails, the single sword shadow stiffened—then abruptly split into thousands upon thousands of shadows, carrying grim killing intent as they rained down upon the fox demons below.
Yan Su had finally arrived.
