Chapter 116

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Chapter 116: The Phoenix Feather Shines

“You…” Song Tian Rou was infuriated, yet she could not find any words to refute. In the end, she merely raised her head and snorted coldly, “Sharp-tongued!”

With an air of loftiness, she gave Ming He a cursory glance, getting straight to the point. “You’re just a little cultivator from Qing Shi Town in the Ninth Prefecture of the Eastern Region; how do you deserve to stand beside Sister Qin?”

She clenched her fists, the depths of her eyes surging with jealousy and disdain, looking down on Ming He from the bottom of her heart. To her, Qin Chu Yi was a bright moon that was utterly unattainable.

How could Su Ming He deserve it? She did not.

Thinking this, Song Tian Rou’s gaze toward Ming He grew colder. She felt it was necessary to let this little cultivator from a remote corner of the world know the truth—that Qin Chu Yi was not someone she could aspire to be near. She understood that without Qin Chu Yi, how could she have the chance to stand here talking to her?

Without Qin Chu Yi, she wouldn’t even have received an invitation to the Merchants’ Guild auction; how could she think herself worthy of such a high position?

“You don’t deserve Sister Qin,” Song Tian Rou declared at last. “The Qin Clan is the foremost of the Ancient Clans, and Sister Qin comes from a noble lineage with extraordinary grace; she is not someone a mere ant from the Eastern Region can compare to.”

Her lips curled up as she spoke with an undeniable aura, and disdain and contempt flickered in her eyes.

Ming He watched her in silence for a moment; after holding back her feelings for so long, she couldn’t resist the urge to smile, the amusement coming from deep within her, but it was a mocking smile. She truly did not expect such a wide gap between the offspring of the Ancient Clans.

Initial One had told her that Song Tian Rou was the second Miss of the Song Clan, one of the Four Great Ancient Clans, and the same as Song Guanting. In terms of admiration for Qin Chu Yi, Song Tian Rou’s demeanor could not even compare to one ten-thousandth of Song Guanting’s grace.

She was even inferior to Jiang An.

The youthful Jiang An, clad in red attire, though not in the best condition, still managed to exude a certain charm at first glance, possessing some quality that could just barely be described as a shining talent.

But Song Tian Rou?

From the first glance, she showed her shallow insight and lofty attitude. Ming He watched her with a subtle smile, attributing her foolishness and ignorance to her character, making it somewhat easier to understand.

The children of noble families included those as exceptional as Qin Chu Yi, with a strong presence like Xie Feihe, and talent like Jiang Ping, but they also included the dark sides like Jiang An and the foolish like Song Tian Rou. The human race was complex and changeable, with righteous cultivators and traitors coexisting, so the presence of Song Tian Rou was not surprising at all.

She withdrew her gaze, her expression lightly indifferent. “Have you finished speaking, Miss Song? May I leave?”

Ming He turned her back on Song Tian Rou without even looking directly at her; she needed to find Qin Chu Yi.

“Su Ming He, you’re looking for death!” Song Tian Rou, hailing from an Ancient Clan, had never been treated this way. Seeing Ming He’s arrogant demeanor incited her anger.

Without thinking, she already produced a jade-white dagger in her right hand, channeling spiritual energy into her wrist. The dagger shot forth like a flash of white light, aimed directly at Ming He’s vital point.

It was the same tactic Ming He had used to deal with the pursuer in black clothes before, but she was not Ming He, and Ming He was no longer just a hidden figure lurking in the darkness.

As a sword cultivator who had gone through life and death experiences, Ming He possessed a highly sensitive instinct for danger. Thus, in this moment, she didn’t even need to turn around or tap into her spiritual energy; relying on her instincts, as she sidestepped, she raised her right hand. The next moment, the dagger thrown by Song Tian Rou was firmly grasped in her palm.

The tail of the dagger lightly trembled, shattering a green leaf, but Ming He simply tightened her grip. The white dagger remained still, not because it didn’t want to move, but because it couldn’t move.

Her lips curved up in a cold smile. “Song Tian Rou, your path as a cultivator is now in my hands!”

Song Tian Rou was also a cultivator in the Wind Master realm, and that white dagger was her life’s spiritual artifact. If a cultivator’s life artifact were to be destroyed, it would ruin their cultivation path by at least half. To take revenge on Song Tian Rou, all Ming He needed to do was crush the white dagger.

What of a king-grade dagger? She was a sharp and formidable sword cultivator; if she wanted, the world could be brought to ruin under her sword intent.

“You dare!” Song Tian Rou’s heart trembled, her anger disguising a deep-seated fear.

“I really won’t do that.” It wasn’t that she couldn’t.

Ming He’s smile grew even brighter as she noticed the relief on Song Tian Rou’s face; her gaze turned cold as her wrist flicked the dagger back. The white blade flew through the air and penetrated an inch below Song Tian Rou’s right shoulder, drawing a splash of blood as it drove the girl into a tree behind her.

“But I won’t do nothing either.” Ming He added, meeting Song Tian Rou’s incredulous stare.

She always returned grudges and kindness and never conformed to adversity, nor wished to consider the bigger picture.

If the Song Clan wanted to trouble her because of this, she would meet them with her sword. And if they couldn’t handle it… Ming He’s eyes flickered; there was more behind her.

She was a true disciple of the Floating Cloud Sect. Though the Eastern Region paled in comparison to the Central Region, and the Floating Cloud Sect was no match for the Song Clan, it did not mean she had to endure humiliation in silence.

Her Master had once said that a sword cultivator must advance with unyielding sharpness, their spirit unbreakable. If the Song Clan dared to strike, they would prove themselves unworthy of the title of an Ancient Clan and could serve as her whetstone.

She lifted her gaze, her eyes ablaze with a fierce light, a manifestation of her perfected sword intent. The Soul Sword hovered slightly, trembling with anticipation; in this moment, her swordsmanship was on the brink of brilliance.

The hidden white figure observed this scene, a faint smile gracing the features concealed beneath a white cloth, a mixture of pride and satisfaction.

“Su Ming He!” Song Tian Rou cried out in pain and fury, struggling to raise her right hand to remove the dagger, sweat dripping down her face. She fell from the tree where she had been pinned, slowly lifting her head despite the agony. “You’re courting death!”

This time, Ming He did not ignore her. She met Song Tian Rou’s resentful gaze with a cold, piercing stare. “Who’s courting death? You’re welcome to try.”

She stared at Song Tian Rou, enunciating each word deliberately, “Worthiness is not for you to decide. You have no right to speak.”

Admirers were merely admirers. If they believed they could dictate Qin Chu Yi’s choices, they were no true admirers. They were merely cloaking their selfish desires in the guise of affection.

“Hmph! I have no right to speak?” Song Tian Rou sneered mockingly, about to retort, but was cut off by a voice as sharp and cold as ice. “Indeed, you have no right to speak.”

Hearing this, Song Tian Rou’s face turned ashen. She turned slowly, only to find a woman in red attire standing behind her, her demeanor relaxed yet commanding. Every detail of her exquisite features stirred Song Tian Rou’s heart; it was none other than Qin Chu Yi.

“Sister Qin…” she stammered, attempting to explain, but the cold disdain in Qin Chu Yi’s eyes sent a chill through her heart, as if she had plunged into an icy abyss.

“Who I, Qin Chu Yi, choose as my Dao partner is my own affair. The Clan Ancestor of the Qin Clan, my father, and my elder brother will not interfere. I wonder where the Second Miss of the Song Clan derives such confidence? Or do you intend to meddle in the matters of my Qin Clan?” Qin Chu Yi’s words cut like a blade.

A clan’s Young Master must possess not only exceptional talent and strength but also sharp wit and noble bearing, and she was no exception.

Song Tian Rou had known her since childhood and was well aware of her brilliance; she had witnessed the incisive words Qin Chu Yi wielded against outsiders. Yet, she had never imagined that one day, such a blade would be turned against her.

Qin Chu Yi paid no heed to her icy demeanor, striding past her to Ming He. The coldness in her expression melted into gentleness as she took Ming He’s hand, her voice tinged with curiosity. “Didn’t you say you were going to wander the city? How did you end up here?”

“I ran into an old acquaintance,” Ming He replied succinctly, catching a glimpse of the jealousy simmering in Song Tian Rou’s eyes. A sense of satisfaction swelled within her. “I just didn’t expect so many in the Central Region would take issue with me.” Her tone was light, laced with amusement.

Should she blame Qin Chu Yi for being too extraordinary?

If the scions of noble clans were all like Song Tian Rou, it was no wonder Qin Chu Yi’s admirers and suitors could form a line stretching across Tianwu City.

She gazed at Qin Chu Yi’s breathtaking beauty and smiled softly; the first beauty of Tianwu was undoubtedly her Senior Sister.

Qin Chu Yi’s gaze softened, her dark eyes revealing a flicker of vulnerability. She looked up at Ming He, her eyes as clear and innocent as a deer’s, as if to say that those who admired her did so without reason, and she could not help it.

All she wanted was for Ming He to love her.

Ming He’s heart fluttered uncontrollably under Qin Chu Yi’s gaze, as if it were melting. She had never seen Qin Chu Yi appear so fragile and pure; it seemed Qin Chu Yi had many facets, each one captivating enough to ensnare her heart.

Her eyes burned as she stared at Qin Chu Yi, her gaze trailing from the inky black hair down to the delicate, long lashes, like a tranquil pool of autumn water, then to the slightly curved red lips, as inviting as if painted with rouge, tempting her to kiss them.

Qin Chu Yi stood still, sensing the intensity of Ming He’s gaze, a faint blush creeping into her heart. Even though they had already acknowledged their bond as Dao partners, in Ming He’s presence, she still felt a touch of awkwardness, especially when Ming He looked at her so intently.

Song Tian Rou stood nearby, watching them exchange tender glances. Her fists clenched so tightly that her nails drew blood, her lips bitten in a frenzy of jealousy. Yet, she dared not speak, turning away from the woods and refusing to look back at the painful scene behind her.

Ming He smiled, and once Song Tian Rou had left, she stepped forward and embraced Qin Chu Yi, her eyes brimming with affection. Having witnessed Song Guanting’s grace, she had initially felt a sense of uncertainty.

She couldn’t comprehend why Qin Chu Yi would choose her. Qin Chu Yi was so exceptional, born from the foremost of the Ancient Clans; every aspect of her was remarkable, yet she had chosen Ming He!

“Senior Sister,” she murmured softly, her eyes warm. “You look stunning in this attire.” Stunning enough to leave Song Guanting and Jiang An momentarily speechless upon their first encounter; Ming He herself had been struck by her beauty.

Ming He leaned closer, her right arm encircling Qin Chu Yi’s slender waist. She lowered her head, capturing Qin Chu Yi’s red lips in a gentle kiss, savoring the taste before deepening it, the coolness of her lips sending shivers through them both.

She opened her eyes to find Qin Chu Yi’s delicate lashes fluttering slightly. In the depths of her dark eyes, Ming He saw her own sparkling peach blossom eyes, filled with emotion, a strange contrast to the sharpness of a sword cultivator.

But who decreed that a sword cultivator must be solely sharp and unyielding?

“Buzz!”

A low vibration emanated from within her arms. Ming He, lost in the kiss, initially paid it no mind.

But the sensation grew hotter, until it felt like a volcano on the verge of eruption, demanding her attention.

Ming He frowned slightly and gently pushed Qin Chu Yi away, who looked at her in confusion. From her embrace, she retrieved a feather about the length of a finger, glowing with a fiery radiance that illuminated her profile. It was… the Phoenix Feather!

Her heart stirred; the Phoenix Feather had been given to her by Feng Xin, the leader of the Phoenix Clan in the Donghua Realm. Its glow could only mean one thing—Feng Xin was nearby.

As this thought crossed her mind, her brows furrowed deeper. The next moment, a clear, commanding voice resonated through her soul, low and imbued with a lofty authority. “It seems I’ve arrived at an inopportune moment?”