He raised his eyes and looked toward Liu Qiao’e, who held Cheng Xun in the distance. How could the pain of his body compare to the agony in his heart?
Pathetically, today he had brought all this upon himself, leaving no room even for jealousy.
Finally, she slowly set Cheng Xun down, realizing his presence.
But in her eyes flickered something new: genuine, thorough hatred for the first time.
He closed his eyes slightly, his heart like dead wood, prepared to receive her rage and vengeance.
Just then, the demonic general below finally ended the melee.
Liu Qiao’e did not remember this demonic general’s name, only that he was Luo Naji’s trusted subordinate, a capable fellow whose cultivation was no less than that of any elder from the three great families.
The demonic general flew onto the rooftop and nodded to her. “Too late. Withdraw first.”
With that, his left arm twisted into a beast claw. He waved lightly toward the sky, casting the Demonic Sect’s secret art to tear space, ripping a shallow slit in the azure sky.
Liu Qiao’e first sent Cheng Xun into the rift, then came to his side. She grabbed his long hair like dragging a broken sack and hauled his mangled body with her, leaping together into the rift in the sky.
—
Thud!
Mu Daoying’s vision spun as he was heavily flung to the ground.
The white bone protruding from his left leg scraped against the crushed stone pavement. Amid the dust and rubble, it dragged harshly, stabbing deeper into the flesh and emitting a teeth-grinding sound.
Mu Daoying choked out blood, not yet able to steady his breathing. Liu Qiao’e pinned his shoulder, and the Mountains and Rivers Sword stabbed straight into it. The tip plunged in, twisted, and gouged out a large chunk of flesh and blood.
A long, heavy chain passed through the bloody hole, locking his pipa bone.
The intense pain made sweat pour from Mu Daoying like rain. He grew groggy and nearly lost consciousness.
In a daze, he was dragged across the ground like a dead dog.
He had no idea how long he had been dragged.
From the faint, overlapping voices of conversation near his ear, he vaguely judged that they were on the road back to Joyous Union Palace.
Liu Qiao’e had taken Cheng Xun and hurried back to Mirage Lake first on a flying boat, leaving behind a few Joyous Union Palace disciples who bound him to the horse and dragged him all the way back along the steep mountain path.
His arms and legs were scraped raw by the gravel and dirt on the ground, exposing the pale white bones.
His green robes were stained with dust, blooming into large patches of blood.
But the torment was far from over. Once they entered Mirage Lake territory, the real nightmare began. The wounds visible to the bone were soaked in the muddy swamps of the great marsh, constantly festering and rotting.
By the time he was dragged back to Joyous Union Palace, Mu Daoying was on the verge of death.
He was thrown into a pitch-black, forgotten dark room and locked away for three days.
On the third day, Liu Qiao’e finally appeared.
The door to the dark room was opened, and sunlight poured in eagerly through the doorway.
He huddled in the corner, his arms hanging limply, blood bubbling continuously from his mouth. He saw her standing there, somewhat smug and pretty against the backlight.
Her tone was icy cold, a gloomy expression flashing across her face.
“If something happens to him…”
“You won’t need to live either… I’ll send you to keep him company.”
Mu Daoying knew who her “him” referred to. His heart twisted like a knife, but he could no longer shed a single drop of blood.
He nodded, acquiescing to her judgment.
He coughed up a few more mouthfuls of blood and asked with effort, “How is he?”
Liu Qiao’e’s face flickered with uncertainty. After a moment, she said, “The physician is still examining him.”
Mu Daoying fell silent for a moment before weakly speaking again. “Regarding the Second Master, I am deeply sorry.”
“Spare me your crocodile tears.” Liu Qiao’e said with disgust.
Mu Daoying’s face paled slightly.
The door was closed again.
The light vanished from his eyes, and he stared blankly at the lingering faint glow.
He knew that with Cheng Xun’s life and death unknown, she must utterly hate him now.
But what’s done was done.
The Second Master had treated him well in the past. Even if he regretted involving an innocent like him, he could not turn back time.
Mu Daoying slightly closed his eyes and rested his head and face against the cold wall. The chilling sensation pierced straight into his brain, dispelling the fog of confusion caused by the pain.
His thoughts slowly sank, gradually returning to clarity.
Did it hurt?
It seemed to hurt a great deal.
But after enduring so much pain, it became numb. Everything was still tolerable.
The dark room was pitch black, and after being locked away for several days, it was enough time for him to think through many things.
That day, when he saw her colluding with the Demonic Sect and massacring innocent disciples in Wandering Sword Pavilion, he had been consumed by rage and lost his composure.
By the time he regained his senses, the doubts he had overlooked resurfaced one by one in his mind.
Liu Qiao’e’s alliance with the Demonic Sect was clearly longstanding, even before Fogveil City.
But now, upon careful reflection, he still did not want to believe that she was such a person.
After all, back in Ren Family Village, her concern and care for the common folk was something he had witnessed with his own eyes; it could not be faked.
There was no benefit to her in putting on such a pretense, so what would be the point? If she truly wanted to gain the trust of the righteous path, she should have stood on the same side as them.
Mu Daoying silently chewed over the details he had previously ignored.
This was all he could do now.
Having fallen into Liu Qiao’e’s hands as a prisoner once more, he could not beat her, and there was little he could do except try to gauge her attitude.
In his view, her nature was not inherently evil.
Why she had allied with the Demonic Sect was something that needed investigating. If he could uncover the hidden truth, perhaps he could turn the situation around and resolve the deadlock between them.
Mu Daoying thus spent another three days in his mind simulating the path ahead.
He had to keep his brain working, or he would start thinking about her, about Cheng Xun, delving into those emotions he had deliberately ignored—emotions that caused sharp pain in his heart with just a slight thought, extending to his breath, his liver, and lungs.
It was as if he had swallowed a burning coal alive, scorching his guts and innards.
That way, he would go mad.
He wrapped himself swiftly in calm and reason, allowing him to maintain his feigned dignified poise even when facing Liu Qiao’e’s arrival.
She said that Cheng Xun’s injuries had improved somewhat.
He was stunned for a moment, a faint spark of joy blooming in his heart. But given his current status, he did not know what to say and merely nodded silently. “That’s excellent.”
Liu Qiao’e said coldly, “You should count yourself lucky to have picked up your life.”
“I originally wanted to kill you, but he stopped me.”
He paused, then said hoarsely, “Then Daoying must thank the Second Master afterward…”
He met her mocking gaze and paused again. “…Is he, alright?”
Now, he had no idea what posture to adopt when speaking of Cheng Xun. He was indeed happy that his injuries had improved, yet from that joy, he tasted a sour hidden pain that only he could understand.
Whatever he said now probably came across as crocodile tears in her eyes?
Mu Daoying did not want to mention Cheng Xun anymore.
He knew she had come to thoroughly despise him.
If that was the case, whether her hatred ran deep or shallow made no difference.
Knowing that his next words would provoke her disgust again, Mu Daoying still asked softly, “Matriarch, did you ally with the Demonic Sect from the start?”
“That’s not for you to probe.” Liu Qiao’e said icily, deeper disgust flashing in her eyes as expected.
Mu Daoying slowly took a deep breath and stubbornly pressed, “Does the Matriarch truly intend to ally with the Demonic Sect? Soul-Returning Lamp, Mountains and Rivers Sword, next will be the Trace World Mirror… releasing the Demonic Ancestor…”
“At that time, turbid qi will rise between heaven and earth. The demonic qi symbolizing chaos and slaughter will overwhelm the pure qi and dominate the world.
“Heaven and earth will reverse, disasters will strike frequently, wars will rage endlessly, and the human world will return to its former state of chaos and disorder.”
“Armor will breed lice, the myriad clans will perish…” Mu Daoying murmured lowly, “‘White bones exposed upon the wilderness, a thousand li without the crow of a rooster…’”
“Does the Matriarch truly wish to see such a world?”
“What does it have to do with me?!” Liu Qiao’e said coldly.
“Because I don’t believe it.” Mu Daoying interrupted her, his gaze clear and steady as he stared at her, as if peering into her very entrails. “I don’t believe that Liu Qiao’e, who spoke with care about the difference between new and old rice and showed such concern for the common folk, would stand by as demonic qi engulfs this heaven and earth.”
“At that time, even cultivators will struggle to cultivate and survive, let alone innocent commoners?”
“Qiao’e.” Mu Daoying paused, then tentatively asked, “Do you have some hidden hardship?”
“If I… if there is some hardship, you can tell me…”
Slap!
Before he finished speaking, a harsh slap landed on his cheek!
Liu Qiao’e withdrew her hand and said coldly, “What are you to me?”
Mu Daoying calmly took the slap, his expression unchanged as he raised his eyes.
His features were gentle, his eyes lonely yet affectionate, but his dark pupils fixed intently on her, pressing close. “Matriarch, I know you’re not that kind of person. If there’s anything—!”
Slap!
His words struck the deep-seated pain in her heart, and Liu Qiao’e panicked momentarily, losing her composure.
Before he could finish, her skirt flared as she strode forward a few steps, gripped his jaw, and delivered another backhanded slap.
Forcing him to raise his face, she said coldly, “Instead of worrying about the world, you should spend more energy worrying about yourself.”
A trickle of blood flowed from the corner of Mu Daoying’s mouth. He gazed at her quietly for a moment, as if seeing through her facade, and softly countered, “Matriarch, what is your next move then?”
He still dared to look at her like that?!
His gaze was clear and translucent, like thin ice under spring sun, yet Liu Qiao’e felt as if he had stripped her bare from head to toe, inside and out, seeing everything.
In her extreme anger, a flash of inspiration struck, and she smiled radiantly instead.
Her icy brows and eyes bloomed like white plums in the winter chill, captivating the soul.
“I hear that the Great Dream Pill is a treasure of your sect. Daoist, when you gave it to me back then, it was somewhat wasteful.”
Mu Daoying was taken aback.
Feeling guilty, he could no longer maintain his earlier pressing calm.
He couldn’t help but raise his eyes, filled with heartache. “Qiao’e—”
Liu Qiao’e cut him off. “This Seat should naturally return the favor and let Daoist taste the flavor of our Joyous Union Palace’s supreme treasure, ‘Carefree Joyous Spring Powder.’”
Mu Daoying was slightly startled, sensing trouble. He instinctively tried to dodge, but Liu Qiao’e gripped his jaw firmly.
Forcing open his two thin, fleshy red lips, she fed him a bean-sized, verdant pill.