In the sky above the Jade Bracelet Realm, the Xianzhou was like a lone leaf in a storm, enveloped by endless Demonic Qi and darkness.
The oppressive force brought by the Black Shadow caused the Protective Light Barrier of the Xianzhou to flicker unsteadily, emitting anguished cries as if about to collapse.
Su Yingman’s face turned deathly pale in an instant, her spirit shaken to the core.
At her waist, her Sword let out a resonant “zheng” and flew from its scabbard, hovering before her and humming with a clear, sharp tone.
She had thought that even if the enemy tracked them down, it would be days or even months later—enough time for them to catch their breath, enough time for Jiang Nu Huai to attempt breaking through to Nascent Soul.
But reality was suffocatingly cruel; the enemy was already upon them, shadowing their every step, arriving with terrifying swiftness.
“Surprised I got here so quickly, aren’t you?”
Above the Xianzhou, the writhing, surging Demonic Mist sent forth a twisted, mocking laugh.
“In truth, I just got lucky, that’s all. But for me, it doesn’t matter.”
The Demonic Mist slowly unfurled, like the wings of a giant bat, casting an even deeper shadow:
“Because, no matter where you flee, you’ll never escape my grasp.”
It was a statement—and a declaration.
Even if Jiang Huai was hidden for a time, she had all the patience in the world to turn the Five Provinces World upside down.
The Yin-Yang Body, having lost its Great Ascension Stage protector, was now nothing more than a turtle in a jar to her.
Jiang Huai’s expression darkened. Under the pressure of that mountain-like, crushing aura, his heart plummeted.
He slowly drew his Sword.
Within his body, the Two Energies of Yin and Yang surged with unprecedented speed.
In the depths of his Dantian, the nascent Small World seemed to sense mortal danger, beginning to spin more rapidly, forcibly pushing his energy, mind, and spirit to their peak.
A subtle, primordial aura, like the dawn of chaos, radiated from him.
When the pure Two Energies of Yin and Yang spread out, the Black Shadow’s chilling laughter was abruptly cut off.
Even with power comparable to the Great Ascension Stage, even if the foe before her was but a small Golden Core Stage cultivator, that inherent suppression from the very source of life still washed over her like icy water, making her restless, sparking a nameless panic.
Fragments of ancient, unbearable memories seemed to throb painfully in the depths of her mind.
This was the counter—this was the suppression the Yin-Yang Body exerted over her entire race.
“May the Yin-Yang Body never appear again!” The Black Shadow’s voice was laced with offended fury.
She wasted no more words. Demonic Qi surged wildly around her.
The sky darkened at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Winds and clouds were thrown into turmoil, evil energies billowed, shrouding the realm in an apocalyptic atmosphere.
“Husband Lord, go! Return to the Five Provinces Continent!” Su Yingman hesitated no longer.
Brilliant seven-colored radiance burst forth from her body.
In her hand, the Immortal Sword gifted by Qin Qingyue traced a decisive arc.
Her entire being, like a burning meteor, soared higher and higher.
“Yingman!” Jiang Huai shouted hoarsely, instinctively about to rush forward.
Su Yingman whipped her head around, her eyes—steeped in the resolve to die—fixed deeply on him.
Her gaze was infinitely complex: there was affection, reluctance, and, at last, it settled into clarity and determination.
She smiled gently and radiantly.
“What? You still want to stay here?”
“Jiang Huai, I know what you’re thinking, but right now, it’s meaningless.”
“Your survival is what matters.”
She turned away swiftly, refusing to look at him again—afraid that a single glance would waver her resolve.
Only her firm words were left behind, carried by the wind:
“Actually, I thought the days in the Nine Heavens Palace were pretty happy.”
“My only regret is that they were too short. If there’s a next life, take me away a little sooner.”
Those days—sheltered by Qin Qingyue’s name, cherished by Jiang Huai, teased in friendship with Zhu Siyao—carefree, only waiting for the moment when all would be ready and she could ascend in peace. How happy they were.
Who would have thought, in the blink of an eye, it would all vanish like a mirage, like flowers reflected in water.
Before her words faded, the radiance on Su Yingman’s body intensified even more.
Her form became a dazzling meteor, resolutely charging toward the enormous Black Shadow.
Here, only she had reached the Merging Stage.
Only she could use her life to win Jiang Huai that fleeting moment.
“Why is there always someone to shield you?!” the Black Shadow shrieked in frustration.
A Merging Stage cultivator resolved to die, wielding an Immortal Sword and clad in Immortal Robe, fighting desperately, truly could cause her no small trouble.
“Jiang Huai! If you don’t go now, you’ll never get the chance!”
Tang Zhaoxue reacted instantly.
Taking advantage of Su Yingman drawing all attention, she rushed forward, grabbing Jiang Huai’s arm with the irresistible strength of the Nascent Soul Stage.
“Hurry!”
A deep, inescapable sense of powerlessness twisted around Jiang Huai’s heart like poisonous vines, leaving him nearly paralyzed.
He didn’t want to go—not at all.
A tragic urge to fight the enemy to the death surged in his chest.
Even knowing it would be like a mantis blocking a cart, he refused to be a coward and watch her die for him.
If Su Yingman wanted to escape alone, with her Merging Stage cultivation and the Xianzhou, taking advantage of the enemy’s attention on him, she might have a chance.
The true target was him; the Black Shadow might not pursue her relentlessly.
But she hadn’t run. She chose the most decisive way—using her life to carve out a path for him.
This realization tore Jiang Huai’s heart apart, pain nearly driving him to collapse.
“Be good, go now.”
“If you don’t, there will truly be no hope.” Zhu Siyao hugged him tightly from behind, her voice choked with tears, hot drops soaking through his back.
Seeing this, Tang Zhaoxue no longer hesitated.
She rushed toward the Core Control of the Xianzhou, trying to forcibly activate it and flee this dead zone.
Yin-Yang energies surged uncontrollably within Jiang Huai, his eyes bloodshot, locked onto the distant space where Demonic Qi and rainbow light mingled.
Su Yingman pushed her Merging Stage cultivation to the utmost.
Her figure flitted like a butterfly around the massive Black Shadow.
Every swing of the Immortal Sword in her hand sent out sharp Sword Qi.
The Immortal Robe, a gift from Qin Qingyue, rippled with waves of radiant glow, struggling to fend off the Black Shadow’s corrosive attacks.
She was losing ground everywhere, her situation perilous, relying on sheer will and the power of her immortal artifacts to hold on.
The Immortal Sword, infused with pure Innate Primordial Qi, drew anxious hisses from the Black Shadow each time it met the Demonic Qi. Her movements stuttered ever so slightly, as if facing her natural nemesis.
Irritated, the Black Shadow’s tone turned seductive, trying to sow doubt:
“Is it worth it? To burn your life away for a Yin-Yang Body destined to die—worth it?”
“Even if you perish here today, reduced to ashes, what can you change? He’ll still die! You’ll just be another corpse!”
Su Yingman’s expression was blank, as if she hadn’t heard. Her Immortal Sword moved even faster, the sword-light raining like a storm upon the Black Shadow’s core.
Her eyes never wavered, her heart was crystal clear. She murmured softly:
“No need for those tricks on me.”
“No matter what happens in the future, no matter if he ever reaches the Great Ascension Stage and overturns fate—”
“In this moment, I just want him to live. I’ve done right by him, and by Qin Qingyue, who entrusted him to me. That’s enough.”
Su Yingman raised her sword before her. An overwhelming sense of regret washed over her.
She did not fear death. She simply felt that, in this world, she had left nothing tangible behind.
If she died and her soul was scattered, she’d vanish like dust—existing only in the memories of a few.
She no longer had a place in the Huanhuan Sect, and the Nine Heavens Palace had been disbanded.
Her existence felt as insignificant as a grain of sand in the river of time.
“What a pity… truly a pity…” As her spiritual energy drained rapidly and her wounds worsened, Su Yingman sighed inwardly.
Suddenly, she thought of White Dew, of the other woman’s swelling belly, and felt a trace of envy.
At least White Dew would leave behind her bloodline.
“Then die!” The Black Shadow lost patience. A blade of purest darkness, the Magic Blade, shot out like a venomous snake, aiming for Su Yingman’s abdomen.
Su Yingman did her best to evade. The Immortal Robe flared with radiant light, but could not fully shield her.
Pff.
The Magic Blade pierced through the light, bursting forth a blossom of tragic blood that scattered into the void.
Su Yingman grunted, her lovely face twisted in pain as she staggered backward.
“Yingman! Yingman!” On the Xianzhou, Jiang Huai saw the blood splatter, his eyes nearly splitting from the pain.
He gripped his sword so hard his knuckles turned white, forcing out a ragged vow through clenched teeth:
“I will kill every last one of you. Every last one.
“Not a single one left.” He lifted his head, bloodshot eyes fixed upon the Black Shadow in the sky, muttering word by word.
His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached the Black Shadow’s ears.
She shivered for no reason, a cold chill rising from her heart, making her back turn cold.
“Courting death!”
Infuriated, the Black Shadow attacked more savagely. Su Yingman, now utterly spent, could only barely keep standing, blood trickling from her lips, the light of her Immortal protection nearly gone.
A sudden chill rose from the base of Jiang Huai’s spine.
He abruptly broke free from Zhu Siyao’s embrace and rushed to Tang Zhaoxue, who was desperately operating the Xianzhou, speaking rapidly:
“No need to go. We… we don’t need to leave. Save her.”
Tang Zhaoxue was stunned, thinking Jiang Huai had lost his mind from grief. She shoved him away, shouting angrily:
“No need to go?! Are you taking your life—and the chance she bought you with her own life—as a joke?!”
“Why stay here? Wait to die?!”
Jiang Huai climbed up from the floor, dusted himself off, and shook his head, repeating:
“No need to go.”
Just as he finished speaking, an inexplicable chill descended.
The sky, blackened by Demonic Qi, was suddenly swept clean by an invisible hand. Darkness receded, revealing the original blue, clearer than ever before.
A figure, cold as moonlight and lofty as an icy peak, appeared silently in midair.
It was a girl, her features exquisitely beautiful, carrying a chill like ten thousand years of ice.
She wore a plain white gown, her sleeves fluttering as if untouched by a speck of dust.
Most striking were her ice-blue eyes—clear, cold, utterly emotionless.
Even more astonishing, her belly was round and swollen; she was clearly pregnant.
Yet the aura she exuded was vast and majestic—the unmistakable pressure of the Great Ascension Stage.
Another presence burst forth—fiery, wild, as if from the heart of the earth itself.
A woman in scarlet palace robes, with a voluptuous figure, materialized.
She was alluring, her every glance brimming with a thousand charms, red scales faintly visible on her cheeks and arms.
She smiled brightly at Jiang Huai, her manner relaxed. Judging by her presence and demeanor, she was none other than the ancient ancestor of the Red Dragon Clan.
“How is this possible?! Why are there still Great Ascension Stage cultivators?! Why?!” The Black Shadow screamed, sharp and hysterical.
Her gaze locked on the girl in white. Her voice trembled with agitation:
“No! You’re not of this era! I’ve seen you before! I’ve seen you before!!”
“Why are you still alive? Why is it that your human race can never be wiped out?!”
She had met White Dew, long ago—before the previous Yin-Yang Body had perished.
But why? Why could these people never be killed off?
White Dew ignored the Black Shadow’s hysterics, nor did she spare a glance at the wounded and staggering Su Yingman.
She merely lowered her eyes slightly—those ice-blue pupils, like twin icy mirrors, reflected the boy on the Xianzhou below, gripping his Sword, eyes veined with blood.
A voice as brittle as shattered jade echoed through the air:
“Jiang Huai, let me ask you.”
“Were those words just now true?”
“One day in the future, will you really kill them all? Not a single one left, is that so?”