Jiang Huai took Chi Lian’s hand, no longer glancing at Chihuang, whose face had turned ashen behind them, and took the lead, heading deeper into the small town.
Chi Lian was shielded at his side, feeling the warmth and steadiness of his palm; her once panicked heart settled inexplicably.
Chihuang bit her lip and followed silently, watching the backs of the two ahead.
Her heart was a tangle of emotions: anger at being ignored, and a hint of loss she wouldn’t even admit to herself.
She shook her head, thinking she was overthinking things.
Just a philanderer—what did his choices have to do with her?
She would always be the Saintess of the Red Dragon Clan!
The further into the small town they went, the denser the resentful aura became.
Those half-transparent Chi Dragon Resentful Spirits grew more and more bizarre in their actions.
From time to time, some gloomy Chi Dragons would approach with requests, and Jiang Huai would grant each one.
Most of these requests were simple: delivering a letter from a Chi Dragon—one that could never truly be sent—to the Stone Tablet at the town’s entrance, or mending a broken Dragon Doll for a little Chi Dragon Youngling.
Yet every time a request was fulfilled, the resentful spirit would react, shrieking:
“Why are you all still alive?”
The mournful accusation pierced straight through to the soul, and with it, the Blood Moon in the sky would swell a little more, its crimson light nearly suffocating.
All along, Chi Lian let Jiang Huai pull her along.
A strange feeling rose from her heart; she neither resisted nor tried to explain.
It seemed that almost no one had ever held her hand before, especially for someone like her who had always been alone.
“What time do you think it is right now?” Chi Lian suddenly asked Jiang Huai.
Jiang Huai paused, unconsciously looking up at the Red Moon above, but couldn’t tell the hour from it.
Yet the rules stated: After three quarters past midnight, one must not meet any townsperson’s gaze.
“You think, since we’re following the rules so closely—what would happen if we broke them?” Chihuang suddenly said.
“For us cultivators, aren’t we always defying the heavens? If we’re strong enough, wouldn’t these rules be meaningless?”
“In principle, yes. But I think it’s better to be cautious.” Jiang Huai shook his head.
Who knows what strength it would take to disregard these rules? Their main objective right now was to get out.
Better to be cautious whenever possible.
Just as the thought crossed Chihuang’s mind, a Chi Dragon Youngling Resentful Spirit not far away suddenly focused its hollow eyes.
Two venomous stares, as real as icy poisoned needles, instantly pierced into her own eyes.
“Ugh!”
Chihuang groaned, feeling a will of bone-chilling cold, despair, and hatred pouring into her consciousness along the line of sight.
She tried to shut her eyes, but to her horror, found her eyelids felt welded open, unable to close at all.
All around her, the Dragon Essence froze in an instant.
Thick black miasma began to seep from her seven orifices, and the proud red dragon horns on her head rapidly lost their luster, turning ashen before her very eyes.
“My lady!” Chi Lian cried out in panic, instinctively about to open her eyes for a look.
“Don’t open your eyes!” Jiang Huai shouted low, pulling Chi Lian behind him, using his own body to block her line of sight.
At the same time, he stepped forward, unleashing the Two Energies of Yin and Yang around him, forming a swirling barrier of black and white that forcibly cut off the venomous gaze eroding Chihuang.
But the resentment was incredibly insidious; a lingering wisp slipped around the edge of the Yin-Yang barrier, searing into Jiang Huai’s shoulder like a branding iron.
“Chss!”
The sound was like flesh meeting hot metal.
The clothes on Jiang Huai’s shoulder charred and split open, his flesh torn and raw.
A fierce black Resentful Mark was burned onto his skin, black smoke hissing as it even threatened to spread further.
“You…”
Chihuang felt the icy despair that had nearly frozen her soul and dragged her into endless darkness suddenly dissipate.
Her mind cleared at once.
She saw the horrifying black scar on Jiang Huai’s shoulder, watched his back twitching in pain, and felt as though a heavy hammer had smashed into her heart.
In that instant, she seemed to see her long, proud life flash by, only to be devoured by endless resentment at the end.
It was this back—this figure—that forcibly pulled her back from the abyss.
“I’m fine.” Cold sweat beaded at Jiang Huai’s temple, his face pale.
He said he was fine, but it was clearly not the case.
The wound felt as though he was being hacked apart by a thousand blades.
He took a deep breath.
The pure Two Energies of Yin and Yang inside him gathered at his shoulder.
Black and white dragon-scale patterns flickered, slowly grinding, driving out and purifying the invading resentment bit by bit.
Chihuang stared at him, speechless.
“As long as you’re alright,” she said, her voice a little hoarse, instinctively taking a step forward and reaching out.
“Let me help you tend to the wound.”
“No need.” Jiang Huai subtly turned aside, but his gaze softened a little.
“From here on, both of you—close your eyes.”
Chihuang bit her lip.
This time, she didn’t retort, obediently shutting her eyes.
That Saintess’s pride quietly melted away.
Chi Lian had already tightly closed her eyes, little hands nervously clutching her clothes.
Jiang Huai took each girl by the hand and slowly led the two, eyes closed, toward the very heart of the small town.
Chihuang couldn’t see a thing, but could feel the Dragon Essence in her body draining away, circulation growing more difficult, her whole being seeming fainter and fainter.
Occasionally, there was a sizzle and crackle, accompanied by Jiang Huai’s sharp intake of breath.
“What’s wrong with you?” Chihuang asked anxiously.
“I’m fine…fine,” Jiang Huai replied through clenched teeth.
They couldn’t stay here much longer. If they did, there was no telling what might happen to these two Chi Dragons.
Chi Lian, whose cultivation was weaker, already had dragon horns dull and listless, her whole body limp and powerless.
At the town’s center, the outline of an ancient Ancestral Hall—its form shrouded in thick, inky black miasma—began to take shape in their senses.
The resentment and pressure radiating from there far exceeded anything elsewhere in the town.
“You can open your eyes now.” Jiang Huai halted, speaking in a deep voice.
Chihuang and Chi Lian slowly opened their eyes, adjusting to the light, and both gasped in horror at the sight before them.
It was a dilapidated, yet still majestic, Chi Crystal Ancestral Hall—now entirely wrapped in roiling black resentment, as if it were a gigantic, evil, beating heart.
Around the Ancestral Hall, even the air shimmered from the sheer weight of negative energy.
“What is this place?” Chihuang’s voice quivered almost imperceptibly.
The three stepped cautiously into the Ancestral Hall.
Inside, it was empty and gloomy, with no statue enshrined.
In the very center lay a colossal Chi Dragon Remains, its size dwarfing a small building.
The bones were an ominous dark red, bound and chained tightly by thick, jet-black shackles seemingly forged from pure resentment, as though suffering endless torment.
The dragon skull hung low, and where eyes should have been, two shadowy Soul Flames leapt and flickered, burning with agony and madness.
Directly in front of the remains, suspended in midair, was a palm-sized red Dragon Scale, webbed with cracks like a spider’s web.
Though the Dragon Scale was dim, it gave off a familiar and exalted aura that made both Chihuang and Chi Lian’s blood boil, nearly driving them to their knees.
That was the resonance of Life Source Resonance.
At the same time, a faint yet impossibly pure and ancient Yin-Yang Dao Rhyme stubbornly radiated from that Reverse Scale.
It triggered a powerful resonance with the Yin-Yang Bloodline within Jiang Huai, as deafening as a great bell or drum.
The giant, drooping skeleton suddenly jerked up its head.
Within the skull, the two Soul Fires erupted, fixing a burning “gaze” on Jiang Huai.
A consciousness mingled with endless pain, confusion, and a sliver of clarity exploded in the minds of all three like thunder, filled with age-old weariness and doubt:
“You are not her…
“How could it be…”
“Why is your Yin-Yang body so weak?”
“Are you her child?”
Outside the secret realm, South Sea Dragon Palace.
A streak of icy, sword-like brilliance tore across the sky, plunging straight to the palace’s grand hall.
When the light faded, Wu Zhaohua’s elegant, aloof figure appeared.
Dressed in white, unsullied by dust, even the blazing fire-element aura around her was repelled by the Sword Immortal intent she bore.
Upon seeing her, Chi Hong, as if grabbing onto a lifeline, rushed forward, forcing a bright smile:
“Sect Master Wu, you’re finally here!”
To her, the Sword Immortal of the Wenxuan Sect was the real leader of the righteous path—far more reliable than that volatile Evil Dragon.
Qin Qingyue was focused, sensing Jiang Huai’s state through the Black Dragon Mark.
Suddenly seeing Wu Zhaohua arrive, her brows shot up, a nameless anger flaring in her heart:
“This woman—why does she keep showing up wherever Jiang Huai is involved, haunting him like a specter?”
Wu Zhaohua didn’t so much as glance at Qin Qingyue, striding straight to Chi Hong.
Her chilly voice, when speaking of business, softened ever so slightly, a touch of concern difficult to detect:
“I’m here.”
“Where is Jiang Huai? What’s the situation?”