“I’m going back to Chasang…”
Under the moonlight, the girl’s figure seemed ethereal and elusive, the bright crimson blood at her neck starkly stimulating to the eyes. She stepped onto the ancient city’s vast red carpet. She emerged from the underground palace. She approached the yellow mountain wall. Countless puppets trailed behind her. Her pair of blue eyes gazed toward the horizon, filled with longing and fervor.
Far in the distance, beneath the moonlight, stood a lavish throne. A slender man sat upon it, with countless assassins from the Demonic Sects arrayed behind him. He wore a robe of black satin, his face pale and handsome, his brows and eyes radiating utter nonchalance. A pair of pale white hands hovered over the qin strings, like a red lotus blooming from a pool of blood.
Half like a gentle man, half like a cruel ghost.
When Du Rulan saw him forced out into the open, the corner of his mouth curved slightly. A cold, elegant smile flickered in his eyes as a seductive voice echoed in their ears.
“Ruan Xuezong, long time no see.”
His voice was low and husky, as if he were injured, his inner force pool utterly depleted. Yet even without inner force, it carried the power to manipulate hearts.
Ruan Xuezong showed no goodwill whatsoever. “How is it you again?”
Seeing that Eve’s footsteps did not falter—like a tottering marionette on strings—Ruan Xuezong leaped forward without a second thought, intent on stopping her. Before he could even make out her expression, a sharp clink rang out. A dagger slipped from the girl’s hand.
Ruan Xuezong was unharmed, but blood poured from the girl’s palm. The pain drew a startled cry from the underage girl, and she gasped for breath in quick bursts.
In the frigid Great Desert, her exhaled breath formed tangible white mist. Through that thin veil of mist, Ruan Xuezong finally noticed that Eve’s brows and eyes were clear and alert. She was not under any control.
“Why?”
Before the enemy could strike precisely, his martial instincts alerted Ruan Xuezong to the danger. He slapped the dagger aside with a palm strike. Eve could not pull back in time and suffered backlash from the attempt.
The girl gave no answer. Blood loss made her stagger several steps, while the potent poison numbed her senses and body. Ruan Xuezong swiftly sealed her acupoints, but to no avail. Her flower-like features rapidly withered away.
She had plotted this from the start, pretending to be a puppet to earn trust. No matter who came to stop her—be it Shi Yan, Yan Feishuang, or Ruan Xuezong—that poisoned dagger would plunge into their chest for a killing blow. This was her promise to the Demonic Sects. The only thing she had not anticipated was that she might mishandle it and wound herself instead.
“Eve, why are you doing this?” Shi Yan’s face changed abruptly. He demanded harshly. He was likely the one most devastated among those present. Betrayers had emerged one after another in the underground palace he had built—even if the circumstances differed vastly. Until now, he had believed that his Peach Blossom Paradise, under his protection, was a place of warmth, where hearts remained loyal.
“…” Yes? Why indeed?
Eve seemed deaf to the shouts around her. She only heard her companions leaping one by one from the underground palace, rushing into the arms of the Demonic Sects. She laughed, her eyes curving into crescents, and spoke in halting tones. “I’m sorry, Leader. I’m truly grateful to you… But I want to go back to Chasang. My parents are gone. I want to live openly and honestly… You’ve never been to Chasang. You wouldn’t understand… Chasang has the beautiful Peacock River, palaces built of white jade, dances of exquisite grace, bustling markets and docks. I-I don’t want to spend the rest of my days in the yellow sands day after day… Look, Chasang is right there. It’s such a beautiful pearl in the desert…”
Every word she uttered rang crystal clear, filled with the innocent longing of childhood.
Everyone followed her pointing finger, only to see vast, turbid expanses of yellow sand, swirling winds kicking up dust devils. When the sandstorm cleared, there was only the distant horizon—no dreamlike oasis city in sight.
But Eve’s vision had blurred. Her fading memories surfaced: riding joyfully on her father’s shoulders, laughing; dancing in gossamer silks, praised by crowds at the market; bearing the slave brand, condemned to a life of groveling survival.
You don’t understand. I’ve seen the sky before…
Amid the stunned gazes surrounding her, she slowly collapsed, falling amid the yellow sands. As she slipped into eternal darkness, a satisfied smile graced her lips.
No one had ever said that betrayal must stem from greed for gain or mad passion for love. Sometimes, it was merely the stirrings of homesickness, or the impulse to live as a proper person.
To the Demonic Sects, Eve had no further use. They now knew the approximate location of the underground palace beneath the Banishment Land.
She had fallen, but the puppets from the underground palace had not stopped. Like wandering ghosts, they marched toward the Demonic Sects—a march to certain death. As a player, Five-Colored Mottled Black knew this was part of the plot, yet he grew frantic anyway.
But he was just one man. He had barely managed to drag Kanbei and a little girl NPC back, only for them to slip from his control and run off again. They weren’t attacking anyone, but they might as well have been walking corpses.
【Soul-Seizing Qin Sound debuff: Moonlit qin music seizes the soul, sanity reduced by 100%, attack power decreased by 70%. Those with lower martial prowess are more easily ensnared.】
From this bewitching debuff, it was clear that the peerless enchantress and her son truly shared blood.
Five-Colored Mottled Black tried sealing acupoints, but Du Rulan’s lingering, eerie qin sound carried far more inner force than his own. The seals shattered in moments.
“Aaaah, what do I do?!” As a social player, he didn’t dare strike an NPC. He feared losing NPC favor.
Ruan Xuezong had no such qualms. With one kick per person, he crudely shoved the bewitched civilians back into the underground palace. But there were simply too many.
It was a pointless drain on his strength.
Yan Feishuang was a woman of resolute will, but without martial arts to shield her, she was defenseless. As her mind grew foggy, someone suddenly struck her. The sharp pain jolted her thoughts clear. She whirled to find the culprit.
Her eyes glared at him. “Shi Yan! You’re not settling a personal grudge, are you? Couldn’t you have gone easier on me?”
Shi Yan was at a loss for words. “…I did it for your own good.”
Thanks to Ruan Xuezong’s forceful intervention, the couple avoided a total rupture or a tragic clash. A lingering rift remained between them—they could not yet return to their former warmth. Their gazes still shied away upon meeting. But to Ruan Xuezong, this tension seemed temporary, like a dormant volcano. They would surely reconcile in time. After all, with enemies from the Demonic Sects invading, marital spats were minor concerns.
For his part, Ruan Xuezong was truly exhausted.
Du Rulan let out a light chuckle, demonic under the moonlight. “Ruan Xuezong, cease this futile struggle. You are but one man, and your strength will fail you eventually. Meanwhile, my puppets stream forth endlessly…”
And so it was. Ruan Xuezong stood alone against the horde from the underground palace. He could not stem the flood surging toward the Demonic Sects single-handedly.
Du Rulan continued, “Why not join the Demonic Sects under my banner? My mother misses you dearly. She wishes to invite you back to Chasang as a guest. She says the first reception fell short of hospitality. If you accept a second visit, Chasang will treat you as an honored guest. Of course, as a return gift, she hopes you will restore the treasures you stole from Chasang.” Here, Du Rulan’s thin lips curved elegantly as his gaze fixed on the pale-faced Wu Yao.
In truth, Du Qing’e did yearn intensely for Ruan Xuezong—enough to lose her appetite. Who else had visited Chasang once and left with the Chasang King’s corpse and the Chasang Holy Son bearing secret intelligence, plunging the Chasang Royal Palace into chaos?
The thought alone made Du Qing’e itch to carve the young man apart and rip out his heart.
Under Du Qing’e’s constant influence, Wu Yao often spoke of digging out hearts and livers, yet he had never acted on it. Du Qing’e, however, always followed through.
Wu Yao exhaled a trembling breath and instinctively clutched Ruan Xuezong’s sleeve.
Ruan Xuezong shielded him and replied flatly, “No need for that. I’m afraid I’d go and never return.” Chasang was currently a den of demons. In the 007 System’s game design, Du Qing’e was the BOSS of the Western Regions dungeon, meant to be felled by united players.
“I’ll pass, but I can send a message. Have all the Demonic Sects report back to your Queen Du: at her age, she shouldn’t keep fixating on young men like me.”
The air fell deathly silent for a moment.
The Demonic Sects members exchanged stunned glances, none daring to speak.
Du Rulan stared deeply at him, then actually laughed. “Ruan Xuezong, you truly have guts. I like how you remain defiant even in dire straits.”
At those words, the qin music swelled fiercer. The puppets from the underground palace quickened their pace. A short distance more, and they would enter range of the Demonic Sects’ tempered poison arrows—ushering in a storm of volleys, swift as a sudden downpour.
The scene teetered on the brink of explosion.
“I’ve been defiant for more than a day or two, Du Rulan. Do you think you’re the only one who can play the qin?” Ruan Xuezong’s face remained utterly calm. He spoke softly. “Bring the qin.”
A player hurried over at once, pulling a qin from his inventory and placing it respectfully before Ruan Xuezong. Ruan Xuezong’s hands were beautiful, glowing with a jade-like luster, warm and smooth. Under the moonlight, faint blue veins traced delicately beneath the skin.
From afar, they gleamed like a splash of brightness.
【Clearwater Pavilion Job Newbie Qin】
【Level: 10】
【Owner: Five-Colored Mottled Black】
Ruan Xuezong lowered his gaze, closed his eyes in concentration, long lashes veiling his eyes. He channeled his inner force into the wooden qin. Soon, a melodious, lilting tune from Jiangnan wafted through the air. Amid the vast wilderness, scorched ruins, and toppled poplars—this barren expanse unique to the Great Desert—it was as if a spring breeze had blown in, parting the layers of yellow sand. It was not the resounding gallop of grassland epics echoing between heaven and earth, nor the desolate lament of desert konghou. Rather, it was the light, clear timbre belonging solely to Jiangnan.
Hearing this distinctive qin melody, the stumbling puppets regained clarity as if struck by Sudden Enlightenment. One by one, they halted.
Du Rulan’s smile vanished.
At the same time, across the vast expanse between heaven and earth, this qin sound infused with Ruan Xuezong’s inner force drifted even farther, as if descending from the clouds, resounding throughout the Great Desert.
In a certain Buddhist temple, an old man striking a wooden fish slowly opened his eyes. A thousand li away, an army halted, its leader astride a mighty steed suddenly turning his gaze in that direction.
