Chapter 47: The Most Dazzling and Stunning Color in the World…

After a long silence, the livestream chat exploded with an even greater flood of comments than before. They surged forth like a geyser. “Aaaahhh Mommy, I’m in love!!!”

“What kind of god-tier visuals are these? It’s hubby! I’m dead, I’m dead—”

“Aaaahhh peerless beauty, I’m obsessed! Huh, why’s my keyboard wet? Whatever, keep going aaaahhh!”

“I finally get how that enchantress ‘bewitched’ and ‘disrupted’ the Rivers and Lakes back in the day, wuuu wuuu.”

“Demonic Sects, you fucking monsters! How dare you hurt that beauty’s face!? Even if an injured beauty looks even prettier than a perfect one, it’s still not allowed!!”

“+1, they dared to harm a single hair on Zongzong’s head. I swear vengeance on those Demonic Sect scum! Charge! Let’s go wipe out the Demonic Sects with me!!!”

The livestream’s popularity skyrocketed, instantly claiming the top spot.

The multicolored barrage of comments nearly blinded viewers, filling the entire screen without a single gap. Some latecomers, puzzled by the frenzy, wondered what lay behind it all. Out of curiosity, one peeled back the layers like an onion—clicking through seven levels of filtering. Still covered. Eight levels, and barely a glimpse: just a few strands of flowing black hair swaying in the wind.

Those ebony locks were beautiful.

But the face remained hidden. The viewer simply turned off the barrage. The next second, upon seeing the livestream feed clearly, he widened his eyes and instantly joined the chorus of “Aaaahhh!”

The forums erupted into a massive storm, but the battle in the game raged on.

Ruan Xuezong clashed directly with the Demonic Sect.

“Qu Wangshu isn’t Du Qing’e’s daughter. Then whose is she?” He voiced the question echoing in many guests’ minds even as he struck out.

Du Rulan’s brows didn’t even twitch amid the firelight. “She’s just an infant that her mother casually picked up from a nearby farm family. The mother grabbed her on a whim, left her at Peacock Manor’s gate, and walked away. Qu Tianwei was the one who chose to treat her like a lover.”

Ruan Xuezong sneered coldly. “You expect me to believe that?”

The Demonic Sects always layered their schemes to maximize gains. For twenty years, Du Qing’e had followed her whims, using her beauty to stir chaos across the Rivers and Lakes. There was no way she’d randomly snatch a farm girl infant and let Peacock Manor labor under such a delusion.

No sooner had he spoken than Du Rulan turned to him, those narrow eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re sharp indeed. Can’t fool you.”

Ruan Xuezong scoffed.

He stepped forward, unleashing a palm shadow brighter and purer than moonlight itself. It swept through like a furious gale and storm, sending Demonic Sect underlings vomiting blood as they crumpled to the ground wherever it passed.

“Brother Rulan, get out of here! There’s something off about him!” Thankfully, the Black Eagle had blocked that blow for her, or Tao Caiyan would have died outright. As it was, she’d nearly perished, only surviving thanks to the Demonic Sects’ lifesaving tricks that let her cling to life. Supported by a cluster of her subordinates, she glared at Ruan Xuezong with eyes like a vengeful ghost.

She couldn’t quite describe the palm strike that had hit her. It had seemed utterly ordinary, yet it nearly carved her heart right out of her chest, the pain tearing at her very soul.

At the thought, her eyes brimmed with agony and hatred. She warned again and again, “He’s suddenly gotten way stronger in a short time.”

To be precise, Ruan Xuezong had always been overwhelmingly powerful, like a natural predator. That overbearing, fierce palm wind utterly suppressed her Yin Cold Technique. This time, she could clearly sense that his combat prowess had inexplicably surged.

The Demonic Cult witch couldn’t spot the mystery. She didn’t know Ruan Xuezong had gained a buff.

With the countdown on his buff ticking down to nothing, Ruan Xuezong wanted to end it quickly too. “You want to retreat? Not so easy!”

The moment he spoke, a huge wave of players and Six Gates reinforcements poured in endlessly. Their momentum was overwhelming, the clash of weapons echoing across the entirety of Yanghe Mountain. Every Demonic Sect member present paled.

Du Rulan heard the commotion. His expression shifted slightly, but he wasn’t particularly furious. Instead, he praised, “Ruan Xuezong, I didn’t expect you to have an ace up your sleeve.”

Even so, with reinforcements arriving, the odds had turned against the Demonic Sects. Du Rulan murmured lowly, “Withdraw.”

As if Ruan Xuezong would let them escape so easily. He swiftly circulated his lightness skill and gave chase.

Meanwhile.

The Eighth Squad players were still navigating the sheer cliffs to the southeast, where a rickety iron-chain suspension bridge indeed connected the two mountains. Beneath it roared a pitch-black river, bottomless and foreboding.

The wind howled fiercely, making the bridge sway violently with ominous creaks, as if it hadn’t been maintained in ages.

Yet it led straight to the heights of Yanghe Mountain and Peacock Manor’s battlefield. The players gripped the chains tightly, experiencing the terror of walking a tightrope for the first time. Nearly all struggled to keep their balance.

Many grew faint-hearted.

“Mommy, I’m scared of heights! That river’s so black—gotta be water monsters down there, right?” It wasn’t an unreasonable fear; tales of beasts lurking in dark pools were the stuff of real nightmares for many in the interstellar era.

“This game’s realism is insane. Why’s the planking shaking so bad? My legs are jelly.”

“Everyone, don’t look at the raging river on either side—that’s the abyss! The more you stare into the abyss, the more it’ll pull you in. Focus on the sturdy planks underfoot!”

“Hang in there, folks! Zongzong’s waiting for us. Cross this bridge, and we’ve won!”

At their captain’s urging, everyone conquered their terror and obeyed. Just then, darkness fell over their feet, as if the moonlight above had been blotted out.

“???”

They looked up one by one to discover the moon’s obstruction: a massive group of people, led by the retreating Demonic Sect members. They streaked through the air like bats, pursued closely by a figure in white robes.

A dutiful player cameraman trailed them unsteadily on lightness skill, drool practically flying from his face. Being so low-level, neither Ruan Xuezong nor the Demonic Sect forces paid him any mind, letting him film away with his weird gadget.

Spotting the players on the chain bridge, the cameraman shouted joyfully, “Perfect timing! Zongzong’s chasing the Demonic Sect crew, and this batch is fleeing your way. Block ’em quick!”

“???” The players stranded midway on the bridge were utterly dumbfounded.

What kind of plot twist was this? They hadn’t even reached the main battlefield, and their iron-chain bridge had already become the next one.

Before this batch of players could recover, Ruan Xuezong appeared gracefully the next instant.

The players already knew Ruan Xuezong’s lightness skill was top-tier.

Their memories freshly updated, they watched as he stepped onto a single chain and strode toward them. Despite the raging wind and the mist spraying from the waterfall below, he moved as if on flat ground, producing only the faintest metallic clinks.

“Zongzong’s here!” The players cheered excitedly. But once they got a clear look at his face, every one of them froze.

The mountaintop was shrouded in darkness, the moonlight dim and faint. Yet his ink-black hair gleamed, his skin was translucently pale, and those familiar cool brows and eyes were breathtaking enough to steal one’s breath.

That faint frost-snow white of his robes seemed to become the most dazzling and stunning color in the world.

“Aaaahhh handsome guy, who are you?!”

“Our god! Did we just spot a celestial at midnight or what?”

The players went berserk, the scene erupting into screams.

Chaos reigned instantly.

Struck dumb by the onslaught of sheer beauty, many forgot they were on a chain bridge. They let go of the rails and plummeted into the river below like so many dumplings.

Ruan Xuezong shook his head solemnly.

What could this bunch do against the Demonic Sects? Best they stick to hyping the atmosphere.

Fortunately, the survivors scraped together some sanity amid the allure, cupping their fists. “Zongzong, leave it to us! We’ll hold the southeast! However many Demonic Sect scum come, we’ll kill that many!”

In no time, the chain bridge buzzed with fervor.

It became a massive melee, the two sides slaughtering each other in a blur that made friend from foe hard to distinguish. The bridge wasn’t built for battle; players and black-clad foes frequently tumbled off locked in deadly grapples. A player’s death cries would trigger “Out of map bounds—respawning at nearest point,” while the black-clad foes simply sank into the depths.

The river at Yanghe Mountain’s base was infamous for its unfathomable depths and ink-black waters. Fall in, and survival was no sure thing.

The Demonic Sects suffered a crushing defeat.

In the end, only the higher-ups remained for the showdown. Tao Caiyan’s face was ashen, her energy down to a mere quarter. Without her subordinates’ desperate shields, she’d already be gone.

Ruan Xuezong pressed his advantage, but to his surprise, Du Rulan spoke first. He said coolly, “Ruan Xuezong, that strange aura of yours is gone. You still want to kill me?”

Ruan Xuezong inwardly sighed at how perceptive his foe was.

They faced off, the tension enough to churn the winds of heaven and earth. Without the buff, he truly couldn’t beat a Half-Step Grandmaster. Normally, an expert’s inner energy flowed endlessly, but the rage buff had burned through his reserves. Now it was gone, leaving his dantian on the verge of depletion—he couldn’t hold out much longer.

Du Rulan saw right through his facade of strength. He added, “Take a look behind you.” A cold smirk curled his lips, as if to say the Demonic Sects had taken heavy losses this round but hadn’t truly lost.

Ruan Xuezong glanced back. A section of Peacock Manor’s grand hall had already caught fire, flames leaping silently up the mountain amid the night. They lit the pitch-black sky in an instant, even scorching the clouds, with serpentine fire coiling along the ridges like a dragon ascending.

“Setting fires again.” He cursed under his breath.

“If you hurry back now, you might save a few. As for this thing…” Du Rulan’s arrogance peaked as the Black Eagle perched on his shoulder. He soared into the air, vanishing into the night. He took the bronze mask with him.

Ruan Xuezong hesitated two seconds between pursuit and rescue. In the end, lives won out. He rushed back to Peacock Manor.

By the time he arrived, players and Six Gates had evacuated most guests. Peacock Manor lay in ruins, countless wounded moaning on the ground. Qu Tianwei was propped up by one player.

The scroll depicting the truth-revealing woman still hung in the main hall. Amid the chaos of rescue, no one had time for a painting. Flames licked at it now, charring slowly from the edges.

What the players didn’t expect was Qu Tianwei’s reaction. He shoved the player aside and suddenly unleashed a burst of energy, charging madly into the blaze. “Qing’e! My Qing’e!”

The players cried out in horror. “No, don’t! The beams are collapsing! Don’t throw your life away!”

They couldn’t stop a grandmaster, old or not.

Qu Qingyang stepped forward, blocking his father. But Qu Tianwei ignored him entirely, channeling his power into a palm strike that caught his unprepared son off guard.

Qu Qingyang spat blood and collapsed. In despair, he screamed, “Father, it’s just a painting! Father, look! After that woman left, did you ever truly see her even once?”

“It’s not a painting—it’s Du Qing’e—” Qu Tianwei plunged into the inferno, cradling the scroll. The madness on his face eased for a fleeting moment, then flames swallowed him whole.

As his figure vanished, Ruan Xuezong could have sworn the Du Qing’e on the scroll was still smiling—that same alluring, bewitching smile captivating the world.