Chapter 50

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Chapter 50: Encountering Pursuit

"Shishu, why aren’t we saying goodbye to Master?" Ming He asked as she walked through the clouds with Xie Dan Chen, her eyes wide with wonder at the surrounding scenery. It was her first time being so far above the ground, her first time standing at such a height—though it was with the help of external forces.

"Cultivators don’t fuss over trivial matters. This is just a temporary journey, not a permanent departure. Why waste time on emotions?" Xie Dan Chen replied with a carefree tone, taking a sip from his wine jug.

"Little Ming He, do you drink?" He raised the jug, his expression lively. "This is the Supreme Clarity Brew, crafted by the Spirit Wine Master. It’s one of the Floating Cloud Sect’s finest treasures."

"I don’t drink," Ming He declined with a shake of her head. She believed alcohol clouded the mind and had always avoided it. Even in this new world, she had no intention of changing that habit.

But—Supreme Clarity Brew?

"Does the Floating Cloud Sect have many such treasures?" Ming He asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"Indeed, the Floating Cloud Sect boasts three treasures. The first is the spirit brews from Spirit Wine Peak, the second is Qu Yanran’s flute, and the third—" Xie Dan Chen glanced at Ming He with a meaningful smile, "is Chu Yi Qing’s beauty."

Chu Yi Qing?

Ming He’s heart skipped a beat. Wasn’t that Qin Chu Yi’s beauty? To think it was listed among the Floating Cloud Sect’s three treasures.

She pictured the elegant figure in white and felt the title was well-deserved. The treasures of the Floating Cloud Sect only deepened her anticipation.

"Elder Xie, you have quite the refined taste!" A hoarse voice suddenly echoed through the clouds. Ming He saw several imposing cultivators appear ahead, blocking their path.

"Little Ming He, go ahead!" Xie Dan Chen’s smile faded as he handed her a talisman. "This is a Wind Control Talisman. It will ensure your safe return to the ground. Once you’re safe, come find me at the Floating Cloud Sect."

After whispering this, he turned back with a smile. "It must be exhausting for you esteemed individuals to keep such a close watch on me."

Xie Dan Chen’s aura surged, and with a flash of spiritual light, he drew his long sword, pointing it sharply at the blockade. The battle was inevitable.

"Elder Xie, you broke the agreement by venturing to the ninth prefecture of the Eastern Region and meeting those you shouldn’t have. Don’t blame us for this," the leading cultivator said coldly, his fist clenched as he summoned his full power.

"Little Ming He, go!" Xie Dan Chen shouted, his voice firm. With a swing of his sword, he charged forward, the brilliant sword light forcing the adversaries to retreat.

Ming He’s heart tightened, but she suppressed her confusion. She raised the talisman, channeling her spiritual energy into it. In an instant, she shot toward the ground like an arrow, swiftly distancing herself from the battlefield.

"Seventh, pursue her," the leading cultivator commanded coldly, showing no mercy. "Once you catch her, eliminate her immediately."

"She has nothing to do with that incident!" Xie Dan Chen retorted angrily.

"But she is Qu Lingyun’s disciple!" the cultivator replied dismissively. "Disciples of Qu Lingyun belong in the Liu Yun Sect. They either stay within the ninth prefecture of the Eastern Region or bear the sins of their Master."

"Sins?" Xie Dan Chen laughed coldly. "Is punishing evil and upholding justice considered a sin?"

He had no desire to argue further. With a sweep of his sword, he unleashed a killing move toward the cultivator chasing Ming He, then turned to face the remaining six. Amidst the fierce battle, he took another sip of the Supreme Clarity Brew, appearing far more at ease than Ming He had imagined.

Meanwhile, Ming He felt a faint worry for Xie Dan Chen as the scenery blurred past her. She knew pursuers were on her trail, but the sight of the clouds and sky, which she had only ever looked up at, now surrounding her, filled her with awe. The rapid descent carried her toward the ground, and just before landing, the talisman in her hand emitted a bright light.

The light enveloped her, ensuring a smooth landing.

Standing on solid ground, Ming He glanced reluctantly at the clouds above before darting away like the wind.

She had no idea where she was or how far the Floating Cloud Sect lay. Her priority was survival, so she headed toward the nearest city.

Every city on the Tianwu Continent had a city lord’s residence. Though she didn’t know if the city lord would side with her, she had to try.

Ming He was realistic; no matter how talented she was, she couldn’t hope to defeat a pursuer of unknown cultivation level. Her only option was to escape into the city.

"Can you really escape?" A mocking voice rang out ahead. A cold, black-clad cultivator stood in her path, blocking her way to the city and her hope of survival.

She was now only a few dozen miles from the city.

Ming He halted, her grip tightening on the white long sword. Her focus was razor-sharp, her expression icy, and her posture unwavering, betraying no trace of fear. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Human? I am no human," the cultivator chuckled, his disdainful demeanor fading. "Qu Lingyun has indeed chosen well. She has a knack for selecting disciples."

"Petite girl, I bear you no personal grudge. We’ve never met before. The only reason I must kill you is because you are Qu Lingyun’s disciple. If you end up in hell, blame Qu Lingyun!"

Despite his words, he made no immediate move to kill her. Instead, he advanced step by step, his oppressive aura bearing down on her, intent on forcing her to bow and die in disgrace.

Realizing his intent, Ming He’s eyes flickered. She bent slightly, trembling as she pleaded, "Senior, if I renounce my Master now, will you spare me?"

The cultivator was momentarily stunned, clearly not expecting such a question. His initial contempt gave way to a flicker of confusion.

Now was her chance!

Ming He’s gaze hardened. In one swift motion, she unsheathed her sword and thrust it toward the cultivator’s heart. Simultaneously, her left hand formed a sword-like gesture, channeling sword energy toward his eyes.

"Naive!" the cultivator sneered, sidestepping her attack with ease. He delivered a powerful kick, sending her sprawling to the ground. Wiping the blood from his face, his expression darkened with anger.

"I knew Qu Lingyun’s disciples were exceptional. You’re sharper than your Master," he remarked, touching the blood from Ming He’s strike. His smile turned mocking. "First stage sword intent, and already a genius rivaling the Floating Cloud Sect’s finest. What a pity—today, that genius will meet its end."

Ming He lay on the ground, blood spilling from her lips. Pain radiated through her body, as though her organs had been displaced. Darkness crept into her vision. Was this the overwhelming power of superior cultivation?

What options did she have left? She thought of the Sword Breaking Talisman Nineteen had given her, capable of killing a Wind Master realm cultivator. But the man before her far surpassed that level. He had come to kill Xie Dan Chen.

Once again, she found herself cornered.

With a bitter smile and a stubborn refusal to yield, she reached for the white long sword nearby. The cultivator’s kick had left her with barely enough strength to grip it.

The cultivator watched her struggle with detached amusement, standing loftily as though observing an insect’s futile efforts.

Ming He understood this mindset all too well. Arrogance meant the enemy underestimated her, and their indifference was her greatest weapon.

Finally, her fingers closed around the hilt of the white long sword.

Clutching it tightly, she used the sword to prop herself up, swaying unsteadily as she rose. A bloody smile curled her lips. "You won’t kill me. You just want to humiliate me, don’t you?"

"Then I’ll oblige," she said, mimicking the lofty demeanor of her foe. Her provocation worked; the cultivator’s expression darkened. She lunged at him with her sword, only to be struck down again with a single palm strike.

Her act of pride must have been convincing. The cultivator lifted her white long sword into the air and, with a casual wave of his hand, snapped it in two.

"Though I can’t kill Qu Lingyun yet, breaking her closed-door disciple’s sword and ending her life makes this trip worthwhile," he said, his smile dripping with malice as he met Ming He’s widening gaze. "It’s time for you to go."

He had no more patience for games.

"You’re from the Demon Race," Ming He stated firmly, just as his hand, charged with murderous intent, closed around her throat. It wasn’t a question; she was certain of his identity.

"Clever," the cultivator admitted, lifting her off the ground. "But you’re still going to die."

"Do you know Ji Wu Xu?" Ming He gasped, struggling to speak. "She… she made a Blood Oath. No one from the Demon Race is permitted to harm me."

"Ji Wu Xu?" The cultivator repeated, a flicker of fear and hatred in his eyes. "The Blood Oath? Impressive. But I’m not bound by her commands. She has no authority over me!"

His expression turned fierce. "If I kill you, she might suffer the Blood Oath’s backlash. You’re doing me a great favor."

As he spoke, his grip tightened, his face alight with satisfaction at her futile struggle.

"Clang!"

In a flash, Ming He drew the dagger she had concealed at her waist the moment she fell. She aimed it directly at the cultivator’s heart. Though he held her aloft, she was now perilously close to his most vulnerable spot.

“Do you think mere spiritual energy is enough to break through my defenses?” The cultivator’s expression was one of disdain and confidence, but in the next moment, his eyes widened in disbelief.

There were many things he couldn’t believe—how Ming He’s speed far exceeded his understanding of cultivators at the Spirit Guiding stage, how she had managed to pierce his heart without even summoning spiritual energy, and most of all, how he was about to die at the hands of someone he had dismissed as insignificant.

“I am no ant,” Ming He murmured, pressing the dagger deeper with her right hand, ending a life in an instant.

*Thud.* The sound of his body hitting the ground echoed heavily.

Ming He stumbled, clutching a nearby tree trunk to steady herself. Beside her lay the massive form of a black wolf—the true form of the cultivator who had been hunting her.

She exhaled sharply, her breath ragged, as she glanced at the Moon Crescent Dagger in her hand. A gift from Qin Chu Yi, who had called it a welcoming present.

A *heavy* welcoming present.

When she had killed the cultivator, her inner spiritual energy had been suppressed, leaving her powerless. The only force she could rely on was the sword intent of heaven and earth.

Yet she knew all too well that the sword intent of heaven and earth was nearly useless against such a vast difference in cultivation. The true advantage had been the dagger itself—its sharpness had made the lethal strike possible.

The cultivator had seen the dagger but remained calm, confident in his defenses. As a member of the Demon Race in the Wind Master realm, his defenses far surpassed those of the foreign tribes she had encountered in the Liu Yun Mountains.

Even if she had been at the Xuan Wei Ninth Level, breaking through his defenses would have been impossible.

The Moon Crescent Dagger in her hand was likely a weapon of a grade beyond heaven.

Ming He pondered, assigning it a rank in her thoughts.

At that moment, she had no idea just how significant Qin Chu Yi’s gift truly was—a weight as heavy as a thousand pounds.

With a wave of her hand, Ming He stored the black wolf’s corpse in an empty storage ring, planning to sell it once she reached the city. From the storage ring, she retrieved a fresh set of blue clothes and a black long sword.

Her white long sword had shattered, and this black long sword was a compensatory gift from the Wang family during her time in the Liu Yun Sect—its rank was merely acquired.

But it was better than nothing.

Clutching the black sword, Ming He began walking toward the city.

The battle with the cultivator had left her severely injured. Though her spiritual energy was largely intact, her internal injuries and the loss of her white long sword weighed heavily on her.

*Damn it.* She frowned, a pang of regret tightening her chest.

Still, the black wolf’s corpse should fetch a decent price—after all, it was a Demon Race creature from the Wind Master realm.

She walked at a steady pace, her thoughts swirling, relieved that no pursuers trailed behind her.

Just as she relaxed, her brows furrowed again in irritation. *Endless trouble!*

She sidestepped the sword tip thrusting at her from behind, then swung her blade to deflect the knives and spears closing in from the sides. In an instant, she was surrounded by five figures clad in black clothes and black masks. Her voice turned icy. “Who are you?”

“The seventy-fifth team of the Misty Rain Tower,” one of them replied. “We take money for work, and today, we’re here to take your life.”