The familiar armor, the voice that seemed heard before, the blazing, intense aura.
Her own aura.
Moreover, Jiang Huai even felt a faint trace within her body.
Without needing to think twice, Jiang Huai knew exactly who the girl before him was.
Zhu Siyao’s fist struck mercilessly, aimed straight at Jiang Huai’s face, the heat almost suffocating.
Though his body was pinned down, Jiang Huai twisted slightly, suddenly exerting force from his waist and abdomen, and his trapped legs exploded with astonishing strength.
Like a giant python flipping over, he violently bucked, causing Zhu Siyao, who was straddling him, to bounce upward slightly.
Seizing the moment, Jiang Huai broke free of his restraints, fingers spreading wide as he grabbed the wrist of the punching hand and twisted it hard to the side, simultaneously thrusting his bent knee sharply upwards.
“Ah!”
Caught off guard, Zhu Siyao’s wrist throbbed with pain, her balance shattered completely.
She let out a startled cry as Jiang Huai cleverly used his leverage to flip her over.
When it came to body techniques, it was still Zhu Rongxin who had personally taught Jiang Huai.
Bang!
Their positions instantly reversed.
Jiang Huai was now on top, pressing Zhu Siyao down firmly.
One hand still clamped her wrist, the other pressed down on her shoulder, while his knee drove into her soft abdomen.
All of this happened in the blink of an eye—from Zhu Siyao’s fierce assault to being countered.
Zhu Siyao struggled violently, the scraping of Scarlet Armor against the ground screeching sharply as she cursed, “You vile scoundrel, let me go!”
She was furious and shocked, her eyes behind the mask practically shooting flames.
Humiliation and anger washed over her.
She had been so easily subdued?!
As a Foundation Establishment Period cultivator, how could she be dominated by someone still in Qi Refining?
Jiang Huai stared down at the girl beneath him with a complicated expression, momentarily at a loss for words.
By rights, he had taken someone else’s mother and forced her into concubinage—Zhu Siyao’s anger was only natural.
By rights, he had forced another man’s mother, so in terms of generation rank, Zhu Siyao should be his…
Jiang Huai cleared his throat and asked, “After this Secret Realm ends, do you want to come back with me to the Nine Heavens Palace?”
The Nine Heavens Palace was far stronger than the Blazing Sect, and with Zhu Siyao’s “status,” she wouldn’t have to stubbornly cling to the Yin Yuan cultivation method.
She could receive far more resources and support.
Zhu Siyao’s body stiffened suddenly, her struggling halted instantly, and a flicker of panic flashed in her eyes.
Had he seen through her?
No, she couldn’t admit it!
“Nine Heavens Palace? I’ve never heard of that. Let me go!” she snapped fiercely, trying to turn her head to avoid his scrutinizing gaze.
Jiang Huai was about to reply when he suddenly stopped, furrowing his brows again as he looked sharply toward the direction they had come from.
His expression shifted slightly.
“Tch, persistent as ever,” he muttered under his breath.
In the distance, the faint sound of tearing air and searching movement reached them—those black-robed figures hadn’t given up, still pursuing this direction.
Now was obviously not the time to get tangled in identity or grudges.
Jiang Huai did not immediately pull Zhu Siyao up to run like before.
He carefully gauged the pursuers’ aura and speed, a cold and resolute gleam flashing in his eyes.
They seemed to have no ambush waiting—only numbers and strength.
Perhaps he could take them on.
He abruptly stood, releasing his hold on Zhu Siyao but gently pushing her back.
He then stepped forward, shielding the slender Scarlet Armor figure completely behind him.
“Stay put. No fighting. Protect yourself,” he said.
Before his words had fully left his mouth, over ten black-clad figures reappeared like phantoms, surrounding him with murderous intent.
Zhu Siyao sat frozen on the ground, staring up at the not particularly wide but now unyieldingly solid back before her, momentarily forgetting to stand.
Back when she had been bullied and isolated by the Hehuan Sect’s wicked female cultivators, it was this very silhouette that had stood in front of her, shielding her.
An indescribably complex emotion quietly arose.
Yet as a woman, once she thought of her mother’s current status and situation, the fleeting warmth was instantly crushed by cold reality and resentment.
She bit her lip, full of indignation.
“Why aren’t you running?” the tall female cultivator leading the attackers sneered, her eyes under the mask full of cat-and-mouse mockery.
“Keep running? Weren’t you just escaping pretty fast?”
Jiang Huai flipped his wrist, and the sword emitted a clear, piercing hum.
He lazily traced a sword flourish, the tip tilting toward the ground, replying coldly, “If I really wanted to leave, you wouldn’t even see my shadow. Enough nonsense—if it’s a fight you want, then fight.”
Since he had decided to strike, he would give his all and leave no loose ends!
No sooner had he finished speaking than Jiang Huai moved.
His momentum was like thunder, his speed ghostlike, completely unlike the man Zhu Siyao remembered—who had only known basic swordsmanship and carried a somewhat lethargic air.
No probing, no hesitation; every sword strike was a killing move.
With Wenxuan Swordsmanship in his hands, each attack targeted a vital point.
The first to face the assault was the tall female cultivator who had mocked him.
Her vision blurred as a cold sword light stabbed toward her throat.
Horrified, she summoned all her spiritual power to block.
But—
The sword tip curved slightly, bypassing her defense and easily piercing her fragile throat.
Blood sprayed, the mocking light in her eyes instantly replaced by shock and unwillingness.
She clutched the bleeding wound helplessly, collapsing weakly.
The scent of blood spread instantly.
“Senior sister!” “Kill him!”
The other black-clad women were furious and shocked, shouting as they lunged forward, all kinds of spiritual energy and weapons targeting Jiang Huai at once.
Blades flashed, fists struck, palm winds surged—instantly engulfing Jiang Huai’s figure.
His form flickered amid the onslaught.
Suddenly, scorching true fire erupted along the blade, fierce and domineering, a single slash seeming capable of incinerating everything.
A female cultivator wielding a blade tried to block but was immediately consumed by the terrifying fiery sword aura, turning to charcoal before she could scream.
At other moments, the sword would shift to an extreme Profound Yin Cold Fiend, chilling to the bone.
A female cultivator sneaking in from the side barely touched the gloomy sword light when a terrifying chill spread along the blade and her entire arm instantly froze over.
Frozen in place, her throat was sliced by the cold sword tip before she could react.
Yin and Yang intertwined, hardness and softness combined, blazing fire and Profound Yin flowing and shifting unpredictably on his sword.
In mere seconds, four or five more fell beneath his blade.
They died in various ways—some burned, some frozen, others torn apart by pure sword energy.
The ground gained several new corpses, blood staining the earth.
Jiang Huai stood alone in the center, his black robe stained with specks of blood, his aura increasingly heavy and steady.
“Don’t… don’t kill me!”
Finally, someone saw the situation clearly and tried to flee.
Jiang Huai’s eyes narrowed, and he swiftly chased them down.
When he returned, the opponent was lifeless.
No mercy was shown.
Watching from the sidelines, Zhu Siyao was already wide-eyed and speechless, her body chilled to the bone.
Was this really the Jiang Huai she knew back in Qi Refining?
Was this him?
What shocked her even more was the blazing fire—clearly the Vital Yang Energy only someone with a Pure Yang Body like her mother’s would have.
How could he possess such pure Vital Yang power? How could he wield it so skillfully?!
Just as Zhu Siyao’s mind was in turmoil, overwhelmed by shock and confusion, a female Foundation Establishment cultivator of the Purple Mansion Foundation who had been lurking nearby with the most concealed aura finally seized the brief moment when Jiang Huai’s sword energy shifted from Yang to Yin.
Like a snake hiding in shadows, she suddenly struck straight at Jiang Huai’s back.
“Watch out!” Zhu Siyao shouted urgently.
Jiang Huai seemed to have eyes at the back of his head.
At the instant the dagger was about to strike, he twisted sharply and turned.
The dagger came too fast and too deadly; it seemed impossible to avoid.
Beneath the skin of his lower abdomen, the Black Dragon tattoo seemed to come alive, faintly heating up.
A layer of extremely dark yet incredibly tough Black Dragon Scales instantly covered his left arm.
Clang.
The Purple Mansion Foundation female cultivator was filled with shock and disbelief—what kind of defense was that?!
Was he not human? How could he have Dragon Scales of the Eastern Wilderness Dragon Clan?
Jiang Huai’s gaze remained cold as ever.
He twisted his guarding arm and precisely caught her wrist holding the dagger.
His right hand’s sword never hesitated, instantly slicing across her neck.
The head fell.
Jiang Huai released his grip as her body collapsed weakly.
With that, all more than ten black-clad female cultivators were killed.
The battlefield fell into deathly silence, filled only with the thick smell of blood and Jiang Huai’s slightly hurried breathing.
He stood alone amid the corpses, his black robe stained with blood, eyes scanning coldly to confirm no further threats.
Only then did he slowly turn around.
His gaze settled on Zhu Siyao, sitting on the ground pale-faced, her eyes full of shock and bewilderment.
“It’s over,” Jiang Huai said softly.
“In the Secret Realm, stay by my side.”
Zhu Siyao watched him step closer, noticed the slowly fading Black Dragon Scales on his arm, and felt the gradually calming aura of Vital Yang and Profound Yin within him.
Instinctively, she scrambled backward, shouting,
“Don’t come near me! Stay away!”
She finally understood how ridiculous it was to think she could secretly reprimand Jiang Huai from behind.
“Get up.” Jiang Huai extended his hand toward her.
This kid really—if she wouldn’t call him father, couldn’t she at least call him uncle?
So impolite.
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