The night was deep and dark, shrouding the capital of Aolai in a mysterious veil.
At the third watch, marked by the sound of gongs, time itself seemed to pause. Moonlight, as clear as water, illuminated three distinct locations within the palace. A quiet, drifting colored cloud floated above the imperial city. The reigning national master, clutching a secret scroll of lambskin, was walking out of the palace. Meanwhile, a soft palanquin passed through the palace gates without any hindrance.
The rows of palace walls vanished beneath the national master’s feet. As he moved forward, the eunuchs and guards of the outer palace became fewer and fewer. The side gate leading directly to the national master’s mansion was now in sight, and the old Taoist, in possession of the secret map, couldn’t help but quicken his pace.
“Haha…National Master, what a coincidence! May I have a look at the treasure in your sleeve?” Suddenly, a black shadow “fell” from the corner of the roof.
Before the figure could be clearly seen, the lazy tone had already caused the face of Master Leihuo to change dramatically. He inwardly cursed his bad luck at encountering an old enemy in such a narrow path.
Moonlight revealed the true identity of the shadow—Pipi San, indeed the wanted rogue and demon currently being pursued by the imperial court.
The nightmare of the Golden Hall still lingered in his mind. Almost at the very moment the demon appeared, Master Leihuo swung his Taoist robe and released two bolts of lightning toward his opponent. At the same time, without hesitation, the old Taoist ducked down, pulled out a talisman, and slammed it onto the ground.
With a dull sound, sparks flew. Qiao San strode straight through the flames. A powerful aura filled the air, but his opponent remained elusive. Master Leihuo swiftly vanished into the ground.
“Damn it—”
The rogue who could soar through the sky and burrow into the earth—still just a rogue. After a crude, fierce curse, Qiao San also dove into the earth. Mysterious magic allowed him to move freely underground like a fish in water.
In an instant, stone slabs on the ground cracked and flew into the air. One after another, ridges of earth surged forward, accompanied by continuous deep thuds.
“Boom!”
Finally, a pavilion collapsed with a deafening crash. Moments later, the ruins exploded, and two figures shot into the sky.
“Hey, hey…Old bastard, come back!”
With a loud shout, Qiao San summoned ghostly clouds that wrapped around Master Leihuo, whose hair was now in disarray. The rogue grabbed the national master like a chicken and shook him vigorously.
The unfortunate Leihuo struggled desperately but could not escape Pipi San’s iron grip.
“Old bastard, don’t be so stingy. This young master is just curious. I want to see what treasure it is exactly. Isn’t the emperor using it to buy my head? It must be valuable, right? Haha…”
Revenge is a rogue’s law, especially when it concerns one’s own life and death. No wonder Qiao San, hiding in the imperial study and healing his wounds, couldn’t wait to abandon his recovery and come to cause some trouble after overhearing the conversation between the two old men.
Daring San deliberately moved slowly, gently pulling the lambskin scroll from the national master’s sleeve. Only after retrieving it did he casually fling the unfortunate old Taoist away like trash.
“What? Just a piece of old lambskin? Damn it, is this all my head is worth?” Qiao San looked puzzled, holding up the lambskin scroll and advancing toward Leihuo. “Tell me, what the hell is the Linghuo Immortal Pill, and what’s it used for?”
“Whoosh—”
Suddenly, a colored cloud swept down. Although it moved swiftly and was accompanied by fierce winds, the space around it instantly became eerily silent—a deathly stillness descended from nowhere, catching Pipi San completely off guard.
The change happened too quickly, and the sudden silence was too bizarre. When Qiao San’s instincts warned him of danger, he could only instinctively tighten his grip.
The colored cloud swept past. With a tearing sound, the lambskin scroll in Qiao San’s hand was split in two!
“It’s you!” Pipi San’s exclamation of shock burst out. Focusing his gaze, he saw the familiar yet unfamiliar figure who had snatched the map.
Dressed in black robes, barefoot, with long flowing hair, the figure hovered in midair—it was the immaculate Zifu Holy Maiden. Who would have thought a fairy could be a robber!
“It’s really you, Daring San!” Although the tone of the Xuan Nu’s sigh was similar, its meaning was completely different.
Before the voice of the Susheng heir had even faded, her calm eyes had shifted from serene to icy cold. Leihuo, who was caught in the aura, had barely risen to his feet when he was once again frozen to the ground.
The power of a celestial immortal was far beyond that of any earthly cultivator. Coupled with Qiao San’s unhealed wounds, the rogue’s situation had suddenly shifted from peak to valley. The fluttering banners were replaced by the horn of escape.
“Daring San, Xuan Nu offers her apologies!”
This was their second meeting, but it was the first time Xuan Nu had bowed to Qiao San. Her slender, elegant neck bent slightly, and her long hair cascaded like a waterfall from her shoulders. Every strand flowed in a unique trajectory, gracefully and gently.
“Apologies? Why?” Qiao San’s chaotic mind unknowingly calmed. In a daze, Xuan Nu’s voice in his ears became a lullaby—long, dreamy, making him drowsy and motionless.
“Xuan Nu must borrow your head!”
The clear, cold voice was still calm and pleasant. A sharp blade flew from the sleeve of the Zifu Holy Maiden, heading straight for the stunned Daring San’s neck.
One stroke, one decapitation—so Xuan Nu had come to “borrow” Qiao San’s head.
At the very moment the blade sliced through the strands of Qiao San’s hair, a red light flickered at his brow. The miraculous power of the Shiyang Pearl awakened him. With a thought, the cow-ear dagger at his waist automatically leapt from its sheath, just in time to strike the incoming blade.
“Dang—”
The metallic clash rang clear and melodious. A curved white jade dagger flew back into Xuan Nu’s delicate hand, while in Pipi San’s hand remained only a broken hilt—the common steel had shattered into shards upon impact.
In the blink of an eye, Qiao San sighed helplessly. Never before had he desired a divine weapon so intensely.
This was serious trouble. Xuan Nu alone was more terrifying than all the cultivators in the mortal world combined. Time to escape!
His rogue instincts kicked in, and Daring San made his decision in an instant. He forced his energy, suppressed the sharp pain in his chest, swallowed back the blood rising to his throat, and flattened himself against a wall. In a flash, he transformed into a gray shadow and vanished into the crevice.
Xuan Nu, desperate for the Jiutian Xuansuo Pill, had already cast aside all restraint. Her slender, beautiful feet flickered alternately, and her tall, graceful figure turned into a streak of white light. Then, like a heavenly net, the light tightly covered the wall.
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