Chapter 176
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Chapter 176: Both Sides Suffer
The pale moonlight cast its glow over the desolate cliff, where ancient trees stood tall like eternal guardians in the endless night.
Ming He, holding Qin Chu Yi close, stood hidden amidst the sprawling branches and leaves, quietly eavesdropping on the conversation between Xin Ming Zhu and the Left Envoy’s closed-door disciple.
Their talk was not of anything cryptic or complex; it was merely a casual exchange of pleasantries. Wang Yun Ping, the Left Envoy’s disciple, leaned against Xin Ming Zhu, sharing trivial tales from the Shura Hall and recounting amusing anecdotes from their cultivation journeys.
Xin Ming Zhu’s back was turned, so Ming He couldn’t see her expression, but she noticed her occasional nods and murmurs of agreement.
The night was thick with tension and solitude, yet the two spirited young women spoke with such vivacity, their laughter and animated expressions creating an oddly serene atmosphere under the dim moonlight, which seemed to soften the shadows around them.
As the night deepened, Wang Yun Ping rose to her feet, announcing her need to return to the Shura Hall.
Xin Ming Zhu smiled silently, her eyes catching the starlight.
They agreed to meet again at the cliff in three days, as Wang Yun Ping had something important to give her.
Xin Ming Zhu’s smile widened as she mentioned their shared understanding, revealing that she too had a significant gift for Wang Yun Ping.
With that, the two strikingly beautiful girls, each from different worlds, parted ways.
It seemed like nothing more than a rare reunion of old friends.
Yet, Ming He couldn’t shake off a lingering sense of unease. She glanced at Qin Chu Yi, and in their exchanged looks, she found the same seriousness and surprise mirrored in her Senior Sister’s eyes.
Xin Ming Zhu and Wang Yun Ping had already walked away.
Without further deliberation, Ming He and Qin Chu Yi made a simultaneous decision: Qin Chu Yi would follow Wang Yun Ping back to the Shura Hall to observe any peculiar behavior, while Ming He would stealthily trail Xin Ming Zhu.
This was the future Left Envoy of the demon race, a pivotal figure who would single-handedly cause upheaval among the human race and turn the Tianwu Continent upside down, a dominant force over the past thousand years.
Even in her youth, with her cultivation and intellect not yet matching the formidable Left Envoy Xin Ming Zhu that Ming He knew, she remained a figure not to be underestimated.
Ming He activated her Breath Control Technique.
Holding her breath, she focused, the Star Technique resonating with spiritual energy throughout her body, her white rabbit ears swaying gently, emanating a soothing energy that nurtured her meridians.
She extended her fingers like a sword, deftly invoking the Sword Domain, integrating the space before her into her own realm as she silently followed Xin Ming Zhu’s steps, moving with stealth.
The shadow merged seamlessly into the dark night, gliding past the ancient trees of the cliff and adopting a ghostly pace as it approached Mo City, stirring a brisk wind.
Ming He followed closely, inwardly marveling; Xin Ming Zhu’s current cultivation was only equivalent to that of a Wind Master realm cultivator, yet she displayed a speed and acuity that most at that level could not match.
The Left Envoy indeed lived up to her formidable reputation.
Ming He trailed Xin Ming Zhu through muddy, barren jungles and across silent, shadowy alleys, eventually arriving at a hidden, dust-choked place.
This was a cavern deep beneath Mo City, filled with a stench of decay and rot, a silent expanse marked by blood and charred remains.
It stood in stark contrast to the vibrant, flourishing Mo City that Ming He’s spiritual senses had illuminated during the day.
Had she not seen it herself, she would have struggled to believe that the radiant Mo City, revered as the heart of the demon race and a sacred destination for countless demons, concealed such a filthy, lifeless cave.
The land of the demon race was typically devoid of sunlight, naturally estranged from brightness, but unlike races born without choice, they existed on the Tianwu Continent, where darkness should be a choice, not a forced fate.
Moreover, this was Mo City!
In later chronicles detailing Xin Ming Zhu, it was only recorded how, as the Left Envoy, she schemed against the human race, lured the young leader Mu Chen into darkness, incited internal wars on the Tianwu Continent, and unleashed a tide of bloodshed that engulfed the land.
Little was documented about her rise to power; all Ming He knew was that it involved slaying her master for the throne, with no further details available.
For instance, her identity, circumstances, and past before ascending to the position of the Left Envoy had never been revealed.
Thus, as Ming He gazed at the profound cave before her, her pupils contracted, and a thought surfaced in her mind: if she was relegated to such a humble place, how did she come to know the esteemed closed-door disciple Wang Yun Ping?
Could the ruthless and capricious demeanor she would exhibit thousands of years later be connected to Wang Yun Ping?
Surely, something intriguing had transpired!
Ming He pressed herself against the cave wall, stealthily advancing deeper within, concealing herself in a hidden crevice as she extended her spiritual senses to follow Xin Ming Zhu’s steps.
She observed Xin Ming Zhu approach a low stone pedestal and sit down, seemingly indifferent to the surrounding dust and grime. A younger child emerged from the shadows, her face obscured, timidly calling out, “Sister Ming Zhu.”
Xin Ming Zhu’s expression remained unaltered as she glanced at the child and then disregarded her, closing her eyes as if lost in contemplation.
After a prolonged silence, she finally spoke, “Little Ye, I will need to venture out again in three days. This time—”
She exhaled deeply, her expression enigmatic and somber. She reached out to touch the child’s head, bending down to meet her gaze and enunciated clearly, “Remember what I told you.”
What had she said?
Ming He pondered silently, but the two in the cave did not continue their dialogue.
As dawn began to break, Ming He had not gleaned any further information and did not wish to keep Qin Chu Yi waiting anxiously, so she retraced her steps back toward the Shura Hall.
At the moment she turned, a flash of insight suddenly illuminated her mind.
The Left Envoy of the demon race.
The Left Envoy she had seen was actually Mu Xuan Ye.
It was said that she was Xin Ming Zhu’s Junior Sister.
Since Xin Ming Zhu was a disciple of the Left Envoy, the human race subconsciously assumed that Mu Xuan Ye was also a disciple of the Left Envoy.
But in reality, it seemed she had never admitted it, merely refraining from denying it.
In the waterside pavilion outside the Shura Hall,
Qin Chu Yi sat rigidly on the soft couch, her expression cold yet her gaze flickering toward the outside, the furrow of her brow hinting at concern.
It wasn’t until she sensed a familiar presence rushing closer, one that felt engraved in her very soul, that her expression softened.
She stood up and walked toward the door, just in time to collide with the swiftly approaching Ming He.
Ming He let out a soft laugh, quickly grasping Qin Chu Yi’s hand with her swift reflexes and offering her a reassuring glance. Then, she calmed her internal energy and gently spoke, “Senior Sister, Wang Yun Ping—”
“She hasn’t gone anywhere; she returned to her own palace in the Shura Hall along the same path. I stayed on the eaves of the hall all night, and she didn’t come out again.”
That was similar to what Xin Ming Zhu did.
Ming He pondered, sharing the scene she witnessed and her lingering questions with Qin Chu Yi, while analyzing the relationship between the two and the key to the cause and effect of the mortal world.
“Senior Sister, do you think they might—” Ming He suddenly had a thought and opened her mouth to say something, but abruptly stopped halfway, unsure for the first time in her life.
“They won’t.” Qin Chu Yi shook her head, providing her answer.
She understood exactly what Ming He was implying; she meant to ask if Xin Ming Zhu and Wang Yun Ping shared feelings for each other like they did.
But Qin Chu Yi knew well the look of affection in someone’s gaze.
Though Xin Ming Zhu and Wang Yun Ping’s looks at each other seemed gentle and smiling, they held not a hint of romantic feelings, so it was absolutely impossible.
If it wasn’t affection, then what could it be? A bond of trust between old friends?
Ming He and Qin Chu Yi exchanged glances, and for a moment, they couldn’t reach a conclusion.
But deep down, she sensed a profound connection to their endeavor to unravel the cause and effect of the mortal world.
The exact nature of this connection, however, remained elusive at the moment.
“We’ll find out the exact nature of this connection in three days when we visit that cliff,” Ming He said, gently smoothing Qin Chu Yi’s slightly furrowed brows, her tone calm and composed.
The Left Envoy Young Master’s coming-of-age ceremony was in five days, yet Wang Yun Ping had arranged to meet Xin Ming Zhu in three days. This discrepancy in timing might hold significant implications.
Qin Chu Yi pondered for a moment and agreed with Ming He’s reasoning. With no other options at hand, she nodded and smiled, “Then, for the next three days, let’s focus on our cultivation and see if we can harness the power of the Demon Race to heal our wounds.”
The dark little horn and the pure white rabbit ears bestowed upon them a gentle, nourishing energy. Using this power to heal, they found that the old wounds and stagnant energy left from the blood battle within them were gradually clearing.
Their power from the Demon Race was rooted in the cause and effect of the mortal world. If they were to break through the confusion of this cause and effect, no one could say whether this gentle, life-giving energy would endure. Thus, they had to act swiftly.
The waterside pavilion was tranquil and undisturbed, a perfect retreat. Ming He and Qin Chu Yi listened to the soothing sound of flowing water as they immersed themselves in their practice. Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
As dawn broke, Ming He retracted her spiritual energy, focusing on her meridians. She noticed that the deep, heavy injuries had healed more than halfway, and the stagnant energy within her had been cleared by about ten to twelve percent. Even the foreign blood energy had merged seamlessly with her pure spiritual energy.
Breaking through to the Human King stage was no easy feat, but if she were to shatter the constraints of the cause and effect of the mortal world now, reaching the eighth level of the Human King stage would require nothing more than a single thought.
The cause and effect of the mortal world, the Ancient Realm Trial—could they truly be opportunities in disguise?
She murmured softly to herself, then turned to find Qin Chu Yi already withdrawn from her meditative state, sitting nearby with a gentle smile. Her eyes sparkled like stars, lost in thought, her gaze warm and serene.
There was a sense of timeless peace, as if the world had paused.
Once the war ended, she could stay like this with her Senior Sister—establish a contract, marry, travel together, hold hands, and enjoy the scenery…
Visions of such moments flashed before her eyes, and Ming He couldn’t help but smile. She confidently took Qin Chu Yi’s soft hand and stood, leading her toward the pavilion’s exit. “Senior Sister, it’s time for us to set off.”
Qin Chu Yi nodded, allowing Ming He to guide her without resistance.
Just then, a voice called out from beyond the pavilion, rough yet respectful, “Qin Envoy, Ming Envoy, my Young Master has invited you both, esteemed envoys of the Demon Race, to visit our residence for a discussion.”
My Young Master?
Ming He glanced at Qin Chu Yi, a flicker of cold light in her eyes.
The “my Young Master” in question could only be Shi Cheng Sui, the first disciple of the Left Envoy; there was no other possibility.
A visit for a discussion?
Was this the welcome banquet Shi Cheng Sui had mentioned during their free time?
Ming He lowered her gaze, deep in thought. Could there be some hidden secret between Shi Cheng Sui and Wang Yun Ping?
Why choose today, so close to the coming-of-age ceremony? Was it mere coincidence, or was there a deeper scheme at play?
“Qin Envoy? Ming Envoy?” The voice outside grew slightly louder, tinged with confusion as footsteps drew nearer, as if the speaker might burst through the door at any moment.
Qin Chu Yi spoke lightly, “I’ve heard you.”
The heavy footsteps paused, and the voice hesitated, “Qin Envoy?”
“I’ll prepare myself and join you shortly. Wait outside,” Qin Chu Yi replied coolly. She then turned to Ming He, whispering, “I’ll meet with Shi Cheng Sui. You go and see Xin Ming Zhu and Wang Yun Ping.”
The invitation couldn’t be refused, but Xin Ming Zhu and Wang Yun Ping’s actions were undeniably suspicious. Given the stakes involving the cause and effect of the mortal world, they had no choice but to split up into two groups.
“Senior Sister—” Ming He hesitated, her voice tinged with concern.
This time, it was Qin Chu Yi who smiled softly. “What’s wrong? Can’t bear to be apart from me for even a little while?”
Her eyes sparkled with amusement, her tone light and teasing as she leaned closer, her warm breath brushing against Ming He’s ear. She watched with delight as Ming He’s ears turned a deep red, then turned to see her stunned and flustered expression.
If she guessed correctly, her Senior Sister was—teasing her?
Qin Chu Yi—would actually tease others?
Ming He felt the world was a bit surreal, feeling a bit dizzy while gazing at the exquisite face so close to her, thinking maybe it was the lingering effect of the Trial of the Heart that Nineteen had mentioned.
Just then, Qin Chu Yi broke into a radiant smile, her obsidian-like eyes reflecting Ming He’s image, her skin pale, and her red lips enchanting—a heart-stopping, unmasked beauty.
Ming He’s heart raced faster as she recalled how, long ago, before she knew Qin Chu Yi had feelings for her, the woman in front of her already knew how to captivate hearts.
The cold, dignified, and serious demeanor was probably a misunderstanding she had of Qin Chu Yi.
Qin Chu Yi was quite pleased with Ming He’s almost dazed expression, her smile deepening, “Little Junior Sister—”
“I will wait for you to come back at the waterside pavilion.”
Saying this, she let go of Ming He’s hand, and in the blink of an eye, all traces of warmth and smiles vanished, transforming back into a cold and aloof beauty as she turned to the person Shi Cheng Sui sent, speaking succinctly and without emotion, “Lead the way!”
Under Qin Chu Yi’s unrestrained commanding presence, the person felt a sense of daze, subconsciously turning around and warily walking in front, vaguely sensing they had overlooked something, but could not recall what it was at that moment.
Ming He watched her Senior Sister’s departing figure, touched her ears, felt the warmth lingering there, let out a deep sigh, and after a moment managed to calm her racing heart and emotions, the corners of her mouth lifting up in a spring-like smile as she quietly left the Shura Hall, moving along the path etched in her memory.
A practitioner at the Human King stage naturally wouldn’t move slowly, so in an instant, the crumbling cliff came into Ming He’s view.
Veiled in the dark night, the cliff still bore a desolate beauty, a sense of loneliness highlighted under the faint light.
Ming He carefully surveyed her surroundings, memorizing the terrain and the distribution of foliage and rocks before lightly leaping to land atop a towering tree.
This tree stood on the right side of the cliff, neither too far nor too near, and despite the season of withering, it bore dark green leaves that spread down just enough to obscure views from the outside.
Ming He settled down, leaning against the trunk, comfortably exhaling a breath, and then, amidst the dappled faint light, narrowed her eyes, tilting her head and closing her eyes, unexpectedly falling asleep.
Since waiting with her eyes open was just as boring, she figured it wouldn’t make much difference to wait by sleeping instead; she might as well do what made her happy.
After what seemed like an eternity, two hours later, light slowly made its way from her raised ankle to her eyes, finally shining directly on her eyelids.
Her fine lashes fluttered gently, and as Ming He opened her slightly drowsy eyes and lowered her gaze, she predictably noticed that the broken cliff below was steep and lonely, with the cold wind howling, and neither Xin Ming Zhu nor Wang Yun Ping had arrived yet.
She had already woken from her nap.
Leaning against the trunk with her hand supporting her head, she listlessly counted the tiny ants scuttling in a line beside her, wondering that Xin Ming Zhu and Wang Yun Ping had only agreed to meet today but hadn’t specified a time.
If they arrived as they did last time, late at night, wouldn’t she be stuck asleep in this tree for an entire day?
Practitioners train to endure loneliness, so waiting a day wasn’t a big deal for Ming He; she just recalled her Senior Sister’s figure before leaving and felt a hint of worry in her heart.
The image of the woman in red attire smiling elegantly before her flashed in her mind, and Ming He suddenly dropped the branches she was holding, looking down at the group of tiny black ants, losing all interest, her eyes reflecting bewilderment and longing.
It had only been two hours apart, but she truly missed her Senior Sister.
She wanted to go back and see her right away, wanting to hold her tightly and never let go, wishing to spend every day of the rest of their lives together.
Fortunately, Xin Ming Zhu didn’t make Ming He wait too long this time.
A chilling gust of wind rustled her robes, and a dark figure approached from afar, entering Ming He’s view; the solemn face revealed a hint of sharpness, with eyes flecked with darkness.
After rushing to the edge of the cliff, the figure suddenly leaped onto a large tree, surveying the surroundings from an elevated position.
Ming He had already withdrawn her gaze the moment she confirmed it was Xin Ming Zhu, repressing her presence to the lowest possible extent, not underestimating the youthful Xin Ming Zhu at all but secretly extending a thread of spiritual sense to keep an eye on her movements.
Once she confirmed that there were no other beings around, Xin Ming Zhu jumped down from the tree like the wind, her figure darting into action, moving left and right as she bent down beneath her large black robes, appearing rather suspicious.
Ming He thought to herself, “Hmm?” as she gathered her soul power to mirror Xin Ming Zhu’s actions, finally catching a glimpse of what she was holding in her hand on the fourth time she bent down.
It was a pocket-sized black flag that looked somewhat familiar.
Ming He’s thoughts shifted slightly, and in the next moment, she understood where the inexplicable sense of familiarity came from.
That kind of black flag had also been used by Nineteen; it was the array flag Nineteen used for formations, almost never leaving her side after her spiritual power dissipated. It represented a formation master’s last pride and dignity.
So, Xin Ming Zhu is also skilled in formation mastery?
This detail wasn’t mentioned in the records of later generations.
Moreover, she was currently setting up an array.
Why was she setting up an array?
Ming He’s lips curled up with interest as she secretly anticipated the unfolding of the next act.
After a while, Xin Ming Zhu finished everything, brushed her sleeves to cover the insignificant details with fallen leaves, erased the traces, and turned to leave the cliff, her figure fading into concealment and gradually disappearing from Ming He’s sight.
At the same time, Wang Yun Ping’s slender figure appeared on the other side of the cliff. The girl breathed slightly hurriedly, and after climbing a few steps up the cliff and seeing that Xin Ming Zhu was not there, she smiled and called out her name, “Ming Zhu, I’ve arrived! Where are you?”
“I’m here.” Xin Ming Zhu looked over from the outer edge of the cliff, then leaped in front of Wang Yun Ping, her gaze gentle as she spoke slowly, “I’m here.”
How interesting.
Ming He leaned against the trunk, squinting her eyes as she understood Xin Ming Zhu’s intentions.
Her coming and going was meant to let Wang Yun Ping know she had just arrived at the cliff, even a step behind her.
As for the purpose and reason—
Ming He patiently continued to observe and heard Wang Yun Ping chattering happily with Xin Ming Zhu, extracting information that mainly revealed that her coming of age ceremony was in two days, and her Master, the Left Envoy of the demon race, Qiu Sheng Tian, would also return to attend her ceremony.
After finishing, Wang Yun Ping excitedly said she had prepared a big gift for Xin Ming Zhu and asked her to close her eyes, wanting to give her a surprise.
Xin Ming Zhu smiled and said she also had a gift to give her, then closed her eyes in front of the girl who half-pouted in a spoiled manner and half-playfully teased her.
Almost the moment Xin Ming Zhu closed her eyes, Wang Yun Ping suppressed all her smiles. Her right hand gripped a pitch-black, cold dagger, and a nearly sinister smile crept across her lips. Then, with a swift motion, she aimed for Xin Ming Zhu’s heart.
Tsk, plastic friendship!
Ming He shook her head, already roughly guessing the direction of events.
“Clang!”
A dull sound echoed as the dagger stabbed accurately into Xin Ming Zhu’s heart from a very short distance.
Pain surged from her heart, and Xin Ming Zhu opened her eyes, a mocking glimmer in her gaze, silently meeting Wang Yun Ping’s triumphant look, only allowing her hand to drop, letting the blood seep from her heart onto the ground, as the cold wind howled, causing ripples in the air.
“Xin Ming Zhu, this is the big gift Young Master has sent you.”
Wang Yun Ping felt puzzled by Xin Ming Zhu’s not-so-strong reaction, but in an instant, pride and arrogance filled her as she swiftly pulled out the dagger, watching the blood stain her black clothing, her smile becoming even more radiant:
“A mere humble half-demon should spend a lifetime trapped in the Extreme West. Where do you get the courage to rebel and escape, still dreaming of climbing higher?”
She waved her sleeve, recalling that this part of the sleeve had just been touched by Xin Ming Zhu, her gaze tinged with disdain: “If it weren’t for your half-demon blood eliminating the hidden dangers to my cultivation, why would I lower my status to associate with you?”
Wang Yun Ping sneered, looking down from her elevated position at the pained Xin Ming Zhu who half-knelt on the ground, suddenly remembering something and smiling: “Xin Ming Zhu, you said earlier that you had a gift for Young Master?”
“What do you want to give Young Master?” Her tone dripped with mockery, relishing in the joy of having deceived Xin Ming Zhu into considering her a close friend.
“I do indeed have a big gift to offer.” Xin Ming Zhu lifted her head, her gaze icy and venomous, a low voice strained with hoarseness, blood welling up as she opened her mouth, appearing disheveled and eerie, resembling a demon from hell:
“You want my half-demon blood, and I have my eyes set on your Young Master’s position.” She murmured to herself, suddenly rising and waving her hand, causing something in the air to scatter instantly, branches and leaves rustling as if infused with life.
From Ming He’s perspective, dark waves of shadowy light rose from the spots where Xin Ming Zhu had bent down earlier, layering upon each other to form a new realm above the cliff edge.
Wang Yun Ping’s expression finally shifted, her instincts screaming of life danger. Without hesitation, she crushed the exquisitely crafted circular jade pendant at her waist, her eyes flickering with resentment and fury.
In the next instant, her gaze froze, flooding with fear and disbelief.
The jade pendant, once shattered, crumbled into dust in her palm, leaving no ripple or disturbance.
How could this be? This was the life-saving pendant her Master had given her!
Wang Yun Ping’s breathing grew ragged as she turned to Xin Ming Zhu, her voice trembling with panic. “Was this your doing?”
“Of course, it was me,” Xin Ming Zhu replied, standing tall and catching the breeze between her fingers, her lips curling into a shadowy smile. “If I didn’t need to counter the life-saving technique Qiu Sheng Tian entrusted to you, why would I go to such lengths just to kill you?”
She pressed her left hand against the dagger wound in her chest, each step deliberate as she advanced toward Wang Yun Ping. “How do you like the methods of a half-demon? Foolproof, wouldn’t you say?”
Xin Ming Zhu’s gaze flicked to the blood dripping from her fingers. With every drop that fell, the ripples in the air grew stronger.
If not for the fact that this array demanded blood as an offering, she would never have allowed Wang Yun Ping to stab her.
Wang Yun Ping, now frantic, was backed to the edge of the cliff, the bottomless abyss yawning below. Stones tumbled into the void without a sound, and before her stood Xin Ming Zhu, relentless and unyielding.
The Left Envoy Young Master, raised in privilege and comfort, tasted the bitter fruit of despair for the first time—a fruit she herself had cultivated.
If not for her greed for Xin Ming Zhu’s half-demon blood, if not for her scheme to lure Xin Ming Zhu to this desolate spot, away from her brother’s watchful eyes, how had it come to this?
Wang Yun Ping suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood, her eyes filled with despair as she stared at Xin Ming Zhu. “You knew all along, didn’t you?”
She had known every detail of her plan.
“Yes,” Xin Ming Zhu admitted without hesitation. “I knew from the moment we first met.”
Her smile was icy, devoid of warmth. “You despise my half-demon identity, yet you covet my half-demon blood. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.”
From the moment she was born, Xin Ming Zhu had understood the cruelty of this world.
Survival itself was a luxury.
But Xin Ming Zhu refused to settle for mere survival. Being a half-demon could be a shackle, but it could also be a weapon—a means to grow strong.
She aimed to climb higher, to reach the pinnacle, to force the world to kneel at her feet.
She wanted those who scorned her half-demon blood to bow before her, even if they seethed with hatred, even if they had to mask their loathing with false smiles.
The mere thought of that day set her blood ablaze.
Power was her only choice.
And on her path to power, Wang Yun Ping would be the first stepping stone.
“Left Envoy Young Master, how could you be so foolish as to think a half-demon who survived the Extreme West would be some naive, simple-minded fool?”
Xin Ming Zhu’s smile was laced with mockery, each step heavy, as though she meant to crush Wang Yun Ping’s spirit. Her elegant features, once striking, now seemed to Wang Yun Ping like the visage of a demon from the darkest night.
Wang Yun Ping drew a sharp breath, pulling the flexible whip from her waist and lashing out at Xin Ming Zhu. But Xin Ming Zhu dodged effortlessly, their black-clad figures clashing in a whirlwind of motion, the air around them slicing through the towering trees.
The sun climbed higher, its light filtering through the branches and casting dappled shadows on the cliff edge, illuminating the dark stains of blood pooling below.
“Bang!”
Xin Ming Zhu’s palm struck Wang Yun Ping’s right shoulder with brutal force, her expression cold and unfeeling. The blow sent Wang Yun Ping reeling, blood gushing from her mouth as she collapsed near the cliff’s edge. The crimson spread in a grotesque, mesmerizing pattern. Wang Yun Ping trembled, lifting her head with effort, her eyes burning with despair and unrelenting hatred.
Suddenly, as Xin Ming Zhu drew near, Wang Yun Ping lunged forward, seizing her ankle and propelling herself toward the cliff’s edge, her eyes ablaze with a madness that knew no bounds.
Caught off guard, Xin Ming Zhu’s expression darkened as she felt Wang Yun Ping’s grip tighten. With a swift motion, she raised her foot and delivered a fierce kick to Wang Yun Ping’s chest, causing her features to twist in agony. Yet, despite the pain, Wang Yun Ping refused to release her hold.
Today, she knew she would not survive.
But she was determined not to face death alone. If she was to fall, she would drag Xin Ming Zhu down with her.
Wang Yun Ping let out a maniacal laugh, her grip on Xin Ming Zhu’s ankle unyielding as they tumbled into the endless abyss, a desperate act of mutual destruction.
Ming He, who had witnessed the entire scene, exhaled a long, heavy sigh. She rose from her hiding place among the towering trees and leaped gracefully onto the cliff’s edge. Her gaze swept over the dark, crimson-stained landscape, dotted with the tattered remnants of black flags.
The Left Envoy of the demon race, Xin Ming Zhu, was indeed a figure of ruthless cunning.
When Ming He had first observed the encounter between Xin Ming Zhu and Wang Yun Ping, her mind had conjured images of past lives—tales of love and hatred, of passion and suffering. Though her Senior Sister had later assured her that such notions were unfounded, Ming He had still approached the situation with a sense of detached curiosity, eager to see how events would unfold.
She had never anticipated this outcome.
Both women had been driven by their own schemes, their meeting born of conspiracy and culminating in a life-and-death struggle.
It was a battle untainted by sentiment, a pure clash of power and ambition.
In the end, Xin Ming Zhu had emerged victorious.
Though both had fallen from the cliff, history would remember Xin Ming Zhu as the Left Envoy of the demon race, while Wang Yun Ping would fade into obscurity, her name lost to time.
Was Xin Ming Zhu truly so ruthless?
Ming He chuckled softly to herself, a thought forming in her mind: could someone as cold-hearted and power-hungry as Xin Ming Zhu ever truly love another?
And would this Xin Ming Zhu, so consumed by her ambitions, ever capture the heart of young leader Mu Chen, the creator of the Canglang Sword Dao, renowned for his gentle and noble demeanor?
The sight before her did little to dispel the fog of uncertainty in Ming He’s heart; if anything, it only deepened.
Her gaze lingered on the abyss below, and she found herself wondering how Xin Ming Zhu had managed to survive such a fall.
What expression would Xin Ming Zhu wear if Ming He were to appear before her now?
And if Ming He were to end Xin Ming Zhu’s life at this moment, how would the cause and effect of the mortal world respond?
As these thoughts swirled in her mind, Ming He’s eyes flickered with a spark of curiosity, her attention shifting to the angles and paths that led down the cliff.
"Buzz!"
At that moment, the Star Lock at her chest suddenly grew hot, pulsing with an intensity that sent her heart racing, filling her with a sense of unease.
This feeling—
Ming He’s expression shifted; it was the Spirit Contract!
Her Senior Sister was calling for her.
Her Senior Sister was in danger!
Without a second thought, Ming He sprang into action, her feet barely touching the ground as she raced forward, her mind consumed with worry for Qin Chu Yi. All thoughts of the cliff and its mysteries were forgotten, replaced by a single, urgent purpose.
