The disciples of Grand Beginning Temple bustled about inside and out, preparing incense offerings, tables, chairs, and refreshments for the main hall.
Today, they didn’t know whether to feel sorrow or excitement. In terms of misfortune, losing two sect leaders within just a few months—along with unfavorable rumors—made them the unluckiest of the six major sects. Yet at the same time, for the first time in two hundred years, the leader of the Demonic Cult would have his Core Essence and meridians destroyed right here in Grand Beginning Temple. This alone was enough to secure their place in history.
Cai Zhao rose at dawn, dressed unhurriedly, and before leaving, she tucked the blanket around Fan Xing, who was sleeping in the outer room.
She hadn’t gone far when she ran into Ding Zhuo leading a patrol of disciples. Ding Zhuo casually asked, “Where’s Fifth Junior Brother? Didn’t Li Shibo assign him to accompany you?”
Cai Zhao replied calmly, “Fifth Senior Brother accompanied me to Changwu Fort yesterday to pay respects to Great Hero Chang. He caught a chill on the mountain and was exhausted, so I told him to rest a little longer.”
Ding Zhuo frowned. “A martial artist shouldn’t be so delicate. Fifth Junior Brother has been too lax in his training. Even if he specializes in medicine, he shouldn’t be this useless. Fine, let him sleep. Where are you headed, Junior Sister?”
Cai Zhao answered, “I’m going to see my parents.”
Ding Zhuo dutifully escorted her to the Cai couple’s residence before leaving.
“Where’s Mother?” Cai Zhao bowed to Cai Pingchun, who was sitting alone in the outer room, and glanced around.
Hearing this, Cai Pingchun couldn’t help but smile fondly. “You know your mother—if she doesn’t spend most of the morning on her makeup, she’ll be out of sorts all day.”
“Auntie spoiled her. Once, when the situation was dire and enemies were at the gates, Auntie still gently told her to take her time blending the rouge, or it wouldn’t look good on her face.” As she spoke, Cai Zhao turned to pour a cup of hot tea, then handed it to Cai Pingchun herself. “Father, a cup of tea to start the day.”
Cai Pingchun took the cup and sipped steadily. When he looked up and saw his daughter staring blankly out the window—slender and quiet—he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to begin.
To his shame, when Cai Zhao was born, Fallen Blossom Valley was still in crisis. He and his wife spent their days not on nurturing Cai Pingshu’s health, but on setting up traps and formations to fend off enemies.
One day, he rushed excitedly to see his sister and suddenly noticed a small, rosy-cheeked girl in the courtyard. Her soft hair was tied into two round buns as she sat on a little stool, reciting rhymes in a sweet, childish voice.
It took him a moment to realize—oh, this was his daughter, Zhao Zhao.
The little girl had always been cheerful and easygoing. When children in town teased her for not having parents around, she would ask if they had the world’s greatest aunt. When her younger brother, Cai Han, received more attention from their parents, she pitied him for missing out on Cai Pingshu’s teachings. Even after her engagement to Zhou Yuqi was settled, she consoled herself with the benefits of marrying into the Zhou family.
No matter what happened, Zhao Zhao always found a way to look on the bright side.
Cai Pingchun was deeply grateful to his sister for raising his daughter to be so resilient and optimistic. But he also felt guilty for his and his wife’s years of neglect, leaving him at a loss for how to comfort her now.
“Zhao Zhao…” he hesitated, “If you’re truly worried about that person, after the execution, I’ll find a way to take him back to Fallen Blossom Valley and keep him imprisoned there. I’ll make sure he lives comfortably.”
When Cai Pingchun looked up, he saw his daughter staring dumbly at the teacup in his hand. “Zhao Zhao?”
Cai Zhao seemed to snap out of it. “…Oh. Thank you, Father.”
A while later, Ning Xiaofeng finally emerged, exquisitely adorned and gracefully poised."Sweet potato, oh sweet potato," Song Shijun muttered as he walked ahead with his hands behind his back. "Trouble's brewing..."
Pang Xiongxin chuckled behind him. "Master, stop worrying. Didn't they say the Demonic Cult is now under Lu Fengchun's control? That Mu boy isn't a hot potato anymore."
Song Shijun's face remained troubled. "Based on my decades of hard-earned experience fighting the Demonic Cult, something still feels off."
"Master, give it a rest," Pang Xiongxin said, picking his ear. "When the old master was around, all you did was eat, drink, and have fun. When your wife was alive, you barely paid attention to anything. No other sect leader has had it as easy as you—where does this 'decades of hard-earned experience' come from?"
Song Shijun scolded, "I was wise like a fool, complex like simplicity—calm on the surface but sharp in mind! Just wait and see. Without a major incident, Zhao Zhao won't give up on that Mu boy so easily."
Pang Xiongxin hesitated. "Master... do you really not mind that Xiao Cai Guniang was involved with that Mu boy?"
"Young love, what's the big deal?" Song Shijun waved his sleeve. "I'm an open-minded and free-spirited man. Why would I cling to such mundane notions? In marriage, what matters is the heart, the heart." The old playboy pointed earnestly at his chest.
Pang Xiongxin blinked. "Master, are you saying that since you've visited brothels so often, you have no right to judge others..."
"You old rascal, asking for a beating!" Song Shijun laughed and cursed.
Just then, Yang Heying caught up from behind. Seeing the main hall ahead, he quickly lowered his voice. "Brother Song, don’t forget our discussion last night. If you agree to have Mu Qingyan imprisoned at the Four Stallions Gate, the Yang family will follow your lead from now on!" Noticing the growing crowd around them, he hurried ahead after speaking.
Pang Xiongxin snorted disdainfully.
Song Yuzhi stroked his beard leisurely, his expression subtle. "Yang Heying... spoiled rotten by his father. Not enough ability, yet too much ambition. Hmph. If there were truly no consequences, why wouldn’t I insist on imprisoning him at the Vast Heaven Gate?"
"Speaking of which," he turned, "where is Yuzhi?"
Pang Xiongxin whispered, "The Third Young Master said he wanted to bathe and dress that Mu boy so he could face punishment with dignity."
Song Yuzhi nodded approvingly. "That’s my son—brave yet kind-hearted." Then he sighed. "Maozhi, though... too harsh, never leaves anyone any dignity, always offending people. Tsk..."
As they spoke, he and several Vast Heaven Gate disciples entered the main hall.
Zhou Zhizhen walked forward slowly but was stopped by Cai Zhao from behind.
Ning Xiaofeng, seeing his furrowed brow and haggard appearance—his usually well-maintained, elegant face seeming to have aged years in just days—softly apologized, "Brother Zhou, don’t take Sister Pingshu’s words to heart. In her eyes, you were never insignificant."
"I know," Zhou Zhizhen replied bitterly.
Cai Zhao added quietly, "Uncle Zhou, Auntie often told me about her childhood at Jade Pendant Mountain Manor, how you personally taught her martial arts and calligraphy... She remembered every word, every move."
Her words sent Zhou Zhizhen into a wistful reverie.
—Some things only grow more painful in hindsight.
That day, the young man had just returned from a banquet at his maternal grandfather’s home when his father brought a thin, petite girl before him, announcing she was his betrothed. Orphaned with only a younger brother left, the old manor master instructed his son to take good care of the siblings.
The young man solemnly agreed.Though the young girl had a lonely and difficult background, she never indulged in self-pity. Instead, she was open-minded, optimistic, and cheerful—she would secretly help struggling junior disciples, subtly guide their cultivation, and treated everyone equally regardless of their martial arts skills, firmly believing that integrity was the foundation of one's character.
Apart from Lady Zhuang, who was somewhat dissatisfied with her future daughter-in-law, most of the Zhou family members liked her.
At that time, the young man didn’t feel any deep affection for the girl. To him, she was just like his cousin Min—a younger sister, a family member, and his responsibility to care for.
He wasn’t unaware that his fiancée harbored slight grievances against his mother and cousin, but he considered them trivial matters. As a junior and future sister-in-law, he believed she should be more magnanimous and endure them for the sake of harmony.
When his fiancée secretly left Jade Pendant Mountain Manor and began to shine in the outside world, he still thought the temporary separation was for the best, lest family tensions escalate further.
Later, when his fiancée approached him to discuss ending their engagement, he assumed it was just a childish tantrum and gently dismissed it with a smile.
But after the topic was brought up again and again—once, twice, three, four times—he began to sense something amiss. He guessed that his fiancée might have met someone else outside.
He didn’t ask any questions. He believed that since she had always been sensible since childhood, even if she was momentarily confused, she would eventually come around.
Little did he know, he would never see that day.
When his fiancée lay on her deathbed, weakly begging him to marry and have children, he realized he had lost her long ago. To ease her guilt in her final moments, this time, he obeyed her wish.
Years later, Zhou Zhizhen thought he had gradually moved past the grief of those days. Yet, the secrets of the past were suddenly and mercilessly unveiled before him.
The bright red, gold-embossed marriage certificate sprawled out like a pool of vivid blood, glaring and shocking. The Beaded Flower Jade Hairpin pierced his heart like a cold, merciless blade.
He remembered catching a glimpse through the window years ago—his fiancée alone under the lamplight, fondling that jade hairpin adorned with beads. Her face had been radiant with joy, her gaze tender and affectionate, brimming with deep emotion.
Only now did he realize he wasn’t as magnanimous and indifferent as he had pretended to be. He was consumed with jealousy toward that unseen Mu Zhengyang, wishing he could tear him apart with his bare hands.
The truth was, he had always loved his fiancée—not as a sister, not as a duty, but as a man loves a woman. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have repeatedly refused her requests to end the engagement, nor would he have feigned ignorance of the changes in her all along.
He had loved her all this time—he just hadn’t known it.
By the time he realized, it was already too late.
Cai San was still offering gentle words of comfort, but Zhou Zhizhen shook his head without speaking and stepped into the Grand Hall.
Qi Yunke and Li Wenxun had arrived early and were already conversing.
Li Wenxun said, "Rest assured, Sect Leader, everything in the temple is normal. According to reports from patrolling disciples, aside from Ding Zhuo practicing swordplay in the courtyard at night and Fan Xing sneaking to the outer kitchen, no one else was out and about."
Qi Yunke sighed wryly. "Once today’s affairs are settled, let Fan Xing go to town for a proper meal. Born into wealth and doted on by his parents, he’s never endured such bland fare for so long. Though, to be fair, the inner kitchen of Grand Beginning Temple is mediocre at best—how much better could the outer kitchen be? Alas."Li Wenxun pondered for a moment, "Ah, yes. Lingbo and Dai Fengchi were hiding behind the rockery talking. They didn’t come out at midnight—they’d been chattering nonstop from dinner until late at night."
Qi Yunke: ?!
Li Wenxun: "Is the sect leader wondering what they had to talk about for so long? According to reports from passing disciples, at the beginning of the Xu hour, they were badmouthing Zhao Zhao, even making wild guesses about her relationship with Mu Qingyan. Their words were rather crude—they ought to be disciplined properly. They rambled on until the third quarter of the Xu hour."
Qi Yunke: ?!!
Li Wenxun continued: "Then they started badmouthing Yuzhi, belittling his martial skills, character, and talents, concluding that Dai Fengchi was far superior to Song Yuzhi. From the end of the Hai hour onward, they began discussing Mu Qingyan’s fate, saying how they’d humiliate and deal with him once he was imprisoned at the Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff. The two of them were so delighted they couldn’t stop laughing."
Qi Yunke: !!!
"When the night watchman struck the third quarter of the Zi hour, they finally finished envisioning their future and decided to return," Li Wenxun said. "On their way back, they also mentioned—"
"Enough." Qi Yunke covered his forehead. "Brother Li, please spare me."
At the exact Si hour, the leaders of the five sects, along with Li Yuanmin and the key disciples of each sect, gathered in the Zhengyuan Hall.
Cai Zhao stood behind her parents, watching as Song Yuzhi directed two disciples to escort Mu Qingyan forward.
—Bound in iron shackles and draped with heavy chains, his every step clanked loudly. He wore Song Yuzhi’s new robes, and since their statures were similar, the fit was perfect. Unfortunately, the snow-white collar was faintly stained with blood, indicating his wounds had reopened, as if he were walking through a path lined with sharp thorns.
Due to his severe injuries and the weight of the iron shackles, Mu Qingyan could barely stand, so Song Yuzhi had to bring him a chair to sit on.
Mu Qingyan lifted his head and smiled at Cai Zhao, his face deathly pale with a sickly green tint, resembling a corpse. When he turned to face the others, his expression was utterly blank. Naturally radiant and beautiful, his aloof and indifferent demeanor made him stand out even more strikingly.
Song Shijun couldn’t help but murmur silently, "A master, truly a master."
Pang Xiongxin leaned over and whispered, "Sect Leader, if you’d had such looks back then, even if you couldn’t defeat Cai Pingshu at the Grand Assembly of the World’s Top Young Masters, you’d still have taken the crown."
"Shut your mouth!" Song Shijun nearly choked with rage. If the situation hadn’t demanded decorum, he would’ve beaten his childhood friend senseless—all those trips to brothels to broaden his horizons had clearly been wasted!
Standing by the entrance of Zhengyuan Hall, Li Yuanmin frowned in confusion. "Where are Chen Qing, Zhang He, and Situ Ancheng? Why haven’t they arrived yet?"
A nearby disciple clasped his hands and replied, "Reporting to Senior Brother, for some reason, those seven or eight disciples have been suffering from severe diarrhea since this morning and are now resting in their quarters."
Li Yuanmin tensed. "Was someone poisoned?"
"I don’t think so," the disciple scratched his head. "If someone wanted to poison us, they’d target the head disciples. What’s the point of poisoning a few new recruits? Besides, poisoning just seven or eight disciples wouldn’t achieve much. They all share a dormitory—I suspect they ate something spoiled, which caused this."
Relieved, Li Yuanmin instructed the remaining disciples to guard outside the hall and led the four head disciples inside.
Qi Yunke scanned the room. Aside from his daughter and disciple Dai Fengchi—who were likely still in bed after their late-night gossip session—everyone else had arrived.He cleared his throat: "The Demonic Cult has ravaged the world for two hundred years. Fortunately, the righteous martial arts world has upheld justice. Despite repeated dangers, peace has ultimately been preserved. By the grace of the Three Pure Ones and the spirit of Old Ancestor Bei Chen, we unworthy disciples captured the Demonic Cult leader Mu Qingyan several days ago. While executing him would bring great satisfaction, his evil deeds are not yet fully evident. As disciples of the North Star, we act with benevolence. It has been decided to sever his Core Essence meridians! Leader Mu, from now on, you may rest quietly among our Big Dipper Six Sects. How does that sound?"
Mu Qingyan replied, "It sounds terrible."
Qi Yunke said patiently, "Then what would you prefer?"
Mu Qingyan: "Remove these chains and let me go."
The crowd fell silent...
Yang Heying had long been displeased seeing Mu Qingyan sitting upright in the center. He now shouted, "You surnamed Mu! Stand up when speaking!"
Song Yuzhi frowned: "His injuries are too severe. He can't stand."
Yang Heying grinned: "Then let him kneel and crawl!"
Song Yuzhi stepped forward: "As a leader of a major sect, how can you lack such basic decorum!"
"Enough, enough," Song Shijun quickly intervened to mediate. "Keep your words few. Sect Leader Qi is presiding—others should not interrupt."
Remembering he would need assistance later, Yang Heying suppressed his anger and sat back down. Pang Xiongxin promptly pulled Song Yuzhi to the Vast Heaven Gate seating area.
Qi Yunke stroked his chin and raised his voice: "Alright, everyone remain calm. Senior Brother Li, bring out the needles."
Li Wenxun clasped his hands and instructed his disciples to bring forth the implements.
Song Yuzhi said indignantly, "Father always taught us to be proactive and strive to lead in all things, to make our voices heard. Why have you been so passive these past few days, even preventing me from speaking?"
"Little ancestor, I'm doing this for your own good," Song Shijun whispered. "Matters between men and women require careful timing—neither too forceful nor too gentle. If you're too eager to protect Mu Qingyan now, what will you do if Zhao Zhao later asks for your help to save him? This way is just right. Even if Zhao Zhao seeks your aid later, your reluctant agreement will make her appreciate you more. Besides..."
"Besides what?" Song Yuzhi bit his lip slightly.
Song Shijun quickly glanced at Cai Pingchun across the way and said quietly, "I feel Zhao Zhao's reaction isn't quite right."
"What's wrong?" Pang Xiongxin asked curiously.
"That child, whether taking after her aunt or Ning Xiaofeng, shouldn't accept fate so easily—her beloved is about to be crippled, yet she neither resists fiercely nor curses us while weeping bitterly. She's being too obedient. Something's off," Song Shijun said.
Pang Xiongxin interjected, "Perhaps Xiao Cai Guniang takes after Cai Gu?"
"Then she wouldn't have gotten involved with that Mu fellow in the first place!" Song Shijun sighed. "Ah, if only Zhao Zhao were more like her father Cai Pingchun—steady, restrained, and composed."
Song Yuzhi said sternly, "Zhao Zhao doesn't resemble anyone. She's herself."
At that moment, Li Wenxun's disciples brought forward a tray holding over a dozen gleaming golden needles. Each was longer than a palm's width and as thick as a grain of rice, with ferocious chiwen dragons coiled at their ends. The mere thought of such thick, long needles piercing human flesh was enough to chill the blood.Destroying a person's Core Essence and meridians is not as simple as forcefully impacting them with Inner Force. Otherwise, when martial arts masters clash in contests of strength, the victor could simply cripple the defeated. Unless there's an overwhelming disparity in power, the actual procedure requires first using golden needles to seal all major acupoints on the body, preventing the meridians and Core Essence from resisting, before pouring in absolutely dominant Inner Force to comprehensively destroy both Core Essence and meridians.
Most martial arts sects only employ this punishment when dealing with disciples who have betrayed their sect but whose crimes don't merit death.
Li Wenxun naturally wouldn't carry a complete set of needles with him—this set was borrowed from Grand Beginning Temple.
Li Yuanmin gave a dissatisfied hum, to which Li Wenxun responded with a cold glare—before using them, he'd specifically had Fan Xing carefully inspect the needles, and sure enough, they found deadly poison applied to them.
"Sect Leader, please." Li Wenxun presented the tray.
Qi Yunke stood up, picking up the first golden needle as he approached Mu Qingyan—the entire hall held its breath.
"Wait." A girl's voice rang out. "Master, please stop."
Everyone turned to look—it was indeed Cai Zhao.
Song Shijun was particularly excited—he knew it, he knew it! How could this matter be resolved so easily?
"Zhao Zhao!" Ning Xiaofeng stood to stop her daughter. "The matter is settled. Don't make trouble."
Cai Zhao knelt properly before Qi Yunke, pleading sorrowfully, "Master, I beg you, don't do this!"
Qi Yunke was exasperated: "Silly girl! This is already the best way to preserve his life!"
Cai Zhao insisted earnestly, "No, Master, I know him. Destroying his Core Essence and meridians would be worse than death to him."
"Zhao Zhao!" Ning Xiaofeng cried out anxiously.
For the first time since entering the hall, Mu Qingyan showed emotion, his expression tense. "Zhao Zhao..."
Cai Zhao turned to smile at him. "Don't be afraid. There's always a way—this time I won't deceive you."
Mu Qingyan was momentarily stunned—these words seemed familiar. That's right, she'd said something similar in the Hanhai Mountains, only to later sever ties with him.
In the Zhengyuan Hall, everyone wore different expressions—anxious, worried, scornful, disdainful—too many to count.
"No!" Qi Yunke's face turned livid. "If we don't cripple him, I fear future troubles. The Mu family aren't weaklings like Nie Zhe. Once he grows his wings, he'll become a great threat to the Big Dipper Six Sects!"
"Master, are you truly unwilling?" Cai Zhao pleaded again.
Qi Yunke hardened his heart: "No!"
Cai Zhao raised her head, her expression desolate: "Master, I can't just watch him be tortured and turned into a cripple..."
As she spoke, a dagger flashed in her hand. Before anyone could react, she plunged it heavily into her own abdomen, curling into a ball from the pain.
Qi Yunke was shocked, crying out as he hurried to support his junior disciple who had collapsed before him.
Li Wenxun, standing nearest to Qi Yunke's seat, rushed forward quickly, followed closely by Song Shijun and Zhou Zhizhen. Strangely, Ning Xiaofeng, who should have been most anxious, paused momentarily—the dagger seemed familiar, like one her daughter had played with before.
But before she could speak, her husband had already rushed anxiously to their daughter's side.
"Silly child, is there anything that can't be discussed properly? We—"
Just as Qi Yunke reached the word "we," there was a sudden "bang"—Cai Zhao swiftly pushed out both palms, striking simultaneously at his abdomen.
This sudden turn of events stunned everyone in the hall. Despite Qi Yunke's profound skills, he was caught completely off guard—first believing Cai Zhao meant to kill herself had thrown him into turmoil, and second, he could never have dreamed the little girl he'd watched grow up would attack him.A surge of blood and energy churned within him as he felt excruciating pain in his dantian. The Inner Force Cai Zhao had struck him with was clearly the improved Fallen Blossom Valley technique passed down by Cai Pingshu—its power was vigorous and swift, with every palm strike delivering immediate force without the slightest hesitation.
Qi Yunke lowered his head in bewilderment, spotting the dagger that had fallen to the ground. It was fitted with a common Martial World trick spring—turns out Cai Zhao's earlier suicide attempt had been a pretense.
He staggered back two steps before his legs gave way, collapsing into his seat as he violently coughed up blood.
"Sect Leader!" Li Wenxun shouted sharply. Reacting the fastest, he immediately leaped high into the air and swung his palm toward Cai Zhao.
Unexpectedly, Cai Zhao reached into her waist pouch and retrieved something, accompanied by an intensely strange odor. Between her fingers, she held gleaming objects, which she flung in all directions using the Willow Leaf Dart technique.
The air hissed as emerald-green needles flew, piercing those in their path.
Li Wenxun shouted, "Watch out—Soul Confusion Needles!"
Being closest to Cai Zhao, his neck, chest, and abdomen—all vital points—were struck by multiple needles. He crashed heavily from midair, collapsing to the ground, completely immobilized. If even someone of his profound cultivation could be incapacitated, the surrounding disciples who were hit fared no better, all collapsing in weakness.
Ding Zhuo took seven or eight needles and immediately fell unconscious.
Chaos erupted in the hall, while disciples outside clamored to rush in.
In the blink of an eye, Cai Zhao shot two pitch-black iron spheres from her sleeves—one flying toward the hall’s entrance, the other toward the rear beams. With two thunderous explosions, a single thought flashed through everyone’s minds—Storm of Thunder!
But these two were merely the triggers. Dozens more had been pre-hidden at the entrance and beams, igniting in a chain reaction. The deafening blasts came one after another, filling Zheng Yuan Hall with thick smoke and raining debris.
Yang Heying and Li Yuanmin, seated toward the back and slower to react to Cai Zhao’s "suicide," were now blocked by the explosions, forced to dodge left and right amid flying wood and stone.
Cai Pingchun’s seat faced Yang Heying’s, but he had rushed toward his "suicidal" daughter and thus avoided the explosions. Yet just as he gathered his qi, a numbing sensation surged from his dantian, followed by dizziness. He could barely stand.
"Pingchun!" Ning Xiaofeng hurried to support her husband, dragging him to sit against the wall.
After checking his pulse, she gasped, "Drizzle Paralysis Powder! When did you get poisoned?!"
This was her own concoction!
Unlike ordinary paralysis powders in the Martial World, this one remained undetectable unless the victim circulated their qi—then it would swiftly drain their strength. But she hadn’t brought any out of Fallen Blossom Valley, except for the few large bottles she had given her daughter for self-defense before she left for Nine Conch Mountain. Unless…
Cai Pingchun glanced at his daughter and understood.
She had timed her visit precisely when her mother was dressing, turning her back to slip the powder into the tea. Her earlier gaze at the teacup and window wasn’t absentmindedness—she had been calculating how much he drank and when the drug would take effect.
Husband and wife exchanged bewildered looks, their eyes filled with dread.
—What would their daughter do next?
Zhou Zhizhen, seated at Qi Yunke’s left, should have been struck by many Soul Confusion Needles. But Li Wenxun had lunged forward more aggressively, forcing Cai Zhao to divert more needles toward him, leaving fewer for Zhou Zhizhen.
As the needles rained down, Zhou Zhizhen instinctively blocked with his sleeve, only to find his left arm pierced. His cultivation rivaled Qi Yunke’s, so he immediately held his breath and sealed several major acupoints with swift finger strikes, halting the poison’s spread. Gritting his teeth, he yanked the needles from his arm.
"Zhao Zhao, don’t be foolish!" Zhou Zhizhen tossed the needles aside and drew his sword, resolved to capture the girl.Cai Zhao had somehow placed a small golden whistle between her teeth. As she blew frantically on the whistle with one hand, the other pressed against her waist. A crimson-gold light flashed as she raised her blade to meet the attack.
—Yet strangely, no matter how hard she blew, the golden whistle seemed to produce no sound.
Meanwhile, Song Shijun, who stood at the same distance from Zhou Zhizhen as Li Wenxun had, had no one to help divert the Soul Confusion Needles. Four or five needles pierced him with a hissing sound. Though none struck vital points as Li Wenxun's had, he staggered and collapsed to the ground.
Thanks to his father shielding him, Song Yuzhi was only hit by one needle. After swiftly removing it, he handed his father over to Pang Xiongxin behind him. Just as he was about to step forward to help Zhou Zhizhen subdue Cai Zhao, he felt his father's firm grip yanking at his robe from behind.
"Father, what are you doing?!" he snapped in frustration.
Song Shijun pulled his son back forcefully and whispered urgently, "Do you want to marry Zhao Zhao or not? If you do, listen to your old man. Actually, it's better that the Mu guy ran off. Right now, we shouldn't do anything. Quick, pretend the Soul Confusion Needle's poison has paralyzed you! Lao Liu, help hold this kid down!"
While the Song father and son were tangled in their own mess, Cai Zhao and Zhou Zhizhen had already begun their fierce duel.
Despite Cai Zhao's extraordinary talent and Cai Pingshu's decade of rigorous training, Zhou Zhizhen was no ordinary opponent—a prodigy in his youth, his decades of cultivation made him formidable. However, while Cai Zhao fought with all her might, Zhou Zhizhen held back, unwilling to harm the young girl. As a result, the two were momentarily locked in a stalemate.
Growing impatient, Zhou Zhizhen channeled ninety percent of his strength into his next strike. The sword's edge swept horizontally, its aura intertwining like emerald rainbows. With a sharp hiss, the blade pierced Cai Zhao's elbow. "Zhao Zhao, surrender now!" he commanded sternly.
Clenching the whistle between her teeth, Cai Zhao raised her blade again—but her technique suddenly shifted. It became light, fluid, and elegant, almost leisurely.
Zhou Zhizhen froze. This was unmistakably the inherited swordplay of Jade Pendant Mountain Manor. His heart trembled. Of course—back when they were childhood sweethearts, he had taught Cai Pingshu a few moves of Zhou Swordplay. She must have passed them down to her niece.
Using her blade as a sword, Cai Zhao flicked her wrist, sending countless afterimages rippling in all directions—this was "Moonlight on the Lake," a signature technique of Zhou Swordplay.
Zhou Zhizhen's mind wavered. He blocked haphazardly, only for Cai Zhao to twist her body and deliver another "Moonlight on the Lake."
"Zhao Zhao, what are you doing?!" Zhou Zhizhen's expression darkened.
"Moonlight on the Lake" wasn't the first move of Zhou Swordplay he had taught Cai Pingshu. The first had been "Full Moon on the Hill." His young fiancée had mastered it effortlessly, proving her brilliance.
Nor was it the last. The final move he had taught her was when she was fourteen—"Moonlight in the Sky," a devastating technique. But she had refused to learn it halfway through.
The teenage girl leaned against a tree, sword in hand. "Brother Zhizhen, learning ordinary Zhou Swordplay is fine, but 'Moonlight in the Sky' is the core secret of your family's art. It wouldn't be right for outsiders to know it."
"How could you be an 'outsider'?" the young man had laughed, oblivious to the shadow in his fiancée's eyes.
Why had she refused to learn it?
Back then, she hadn't even left Jade Pendant Mountain Manor. Had she already sensed, even then, that their marriage might never come to pass?
Another "Moonlight on the Lake" encircled Zhou Zhizhen.
His mind blurred. In his daze, Cai Zhao's figure seemed to morph into the teenage Cai Pingshu of decades past...
Jade Pendant Mountain Manor had stood for two centuries, and Zhou Swordplay had naturally evolved over generations. "Moonlight on the Lake" was created by the fourth manor lord and his wife during a lakeside stroll—childhood sweethearts, their love remained unwavering until death, becoming a celebrated legend in both the Zhou family and the Martial World.Cai Pingshu, who was usually quick to grasp martial techniques, strangely struggled particularly with the move "Moonlight on the Lake," repeatedly needing her fiancé's guidance and corrections.
The young man found it rather amusing. After several attempts to instruct her, he couldn't help but tease, "What’s wrong with you, Ping Shu? Normally, you master even the most difficult moves in three tries at most. How come you keep forgetting bits and pieces of such a simple move like 'Moonlight on the Lake'?"
In the sunlit courtyard, the girl remained silent, her gaze deep and lingering—a mix of joy and reproach.
Had he seen such an expression before? When? Where?
Memories surged in his mind, and Zhou Zhizhen jolted—he remembered.
Cai Pingshu had looked exactly like this when she smiled at the Beaded Flower Jade Hairpin under the lamplight—profound, bone-deep, a blend of joy and reproach.
So, she had once gazed at him the same way?
Then when had she stopped looking at him like that?
Was it after he repeatedly advised his fiancée not to take his sharp-tongued mother to heart? Or after he time and again tried to "remain impartial" between his fiancée and his cousin?
The girl’s once fervent gaze gradually cooled. She began running off more and more, spending less and less time at Jade Pendant Mountain Manor. The childhood sweethearts who had once pledged marriage eventually became mere old friends who kept in touch.
Zhou Zhizhen’s breathing grew ragged, his swordplay turning erratic.
Clang! —Blades clashed. Cai Zhao pressed forward fiercely with her saber, stopping just half a foot from Zhou Zhizhen’s face before opening her mouth. The small golden whistle dangled from the chain around her neck.
Word by word, she declared, "Auntie said, liking someone isn’t wrong. But if that person doesn’t like you back, then don’t like them for too long!"
Zhou Zhizhen’s qi sea churned violently. The past flashed before his eyes, heart-wrenching pain surging like a flood.
Seizing the opening, Cai Zhao swung her saber, splitting his sword’s guard, and struck his chest with a sharp palm strike to the danzhong acupoint.
Zhou Zhizhen, exhausted in body and mind, spat out dark purple blood and slumped weakly against the wall. His thoughts were in chaos, circling one question— When I disappointed Ping Shu time and again, how did she feel? Was it as desolate and heartbroken as when I realized Mu Zhengyang’s existence?
The surrounding explosions gradually ceased—all the "Storm of Thunder" charges had detonated.
With the main and side entrances of the hall blocked by collapsed debris, disciples outside couldn’t enter immediately. Meanwhile, Yang Heying and Li Yuanmin had already shaken off the dust and were advancing menacingly toward Cai Zhao.
Zhou Zhizhen collapsed, but Cai Zhao didn’t pause. She turned and swung her saber in rapid succession, severing all the iron chains and shackles binding Mu Qingyan.
Ning Xiaofeng cried hoarsely, "Zhao Zhao, don’t be reckless!"
"Reckless or not, I’ll teach her a lesson!" Yang Heying sneered, lunging with his sword.
Cai Zhao spun around, her saber arcing in a half-moon before slamming down heavily on the incoming blade.
Yang Heying’s arm trembled, a faint numbness creeping in. This little wretch’s skills are impressive , he thought, discarding his earlier contempt. With a flick of his wrist, he sent his sword tip darting toward the girl’s left arm.
Cai Zhao still didn’t block. Instead, she swept her saber horizontally, its flat side grinding heavily against the sword’s edge to deflect it. At the same time, she clenched the silent golden whistle between her teeth and blew with all her might.Yang Heying had two consecutive strikes deflected, and in his fury, his swordplay became even more relentless and compact, like a raging storm. Yet Cai Zhao repeatedly employed only the 'horizontal stance' from Cai Pingshu's 'Gale Riving Clear Sky Saber Technique,' using the back of her blade to deflect his sword's edge from the lower left and right. The Bright Sun Blade was a peerless weapon, and Yang Heying's treasured sword simply couldn't break it.
At that moment, Li Yuanmin finally arrived, charging straight at Cai Zhao's back with his sword.
To evade the attack from behind, Cai Zhao twisted her right shoulder to the side, inadvertently exposing a gap in her left shoulder. Overjoyed, Yang Heying—whose right-handed sword had just been deflected by the Bright Sun Blade—formed a sword gesture with his left hand and struck out horizontally with his palm, landing a solid smack on Cai Zhao's left shoulder.
Cai Zhao grunted, her left shoulder emitting a crack —clearly, some bones had fractured.
Mu Qingyan's eyes reddened as he struggled to rise, but days of severe injuries and relentless fever had left him too weak to move.
Song Yuzhi nearly lunged forward, but Song Shijun desperately hissed, "If you go out now, are you trying to block her or help her save someone? Hold back—you must hold back!"
Just as Yang Heying was about to gloat, he suddenly felt his energy waning, unable to channel it into his palm.
He looked down in shock to find Cai Zhao had somehow slipped four gleaming Soul Confusion Needles between her left fingers, all half-buried in the vital acupoint 'Qimen' on his waist and abdomen.
Half of Yang Heying's body went numb, rendering him immobile. He managed a sluggish cry: "No... good..."
Cai Zhao gathered her strength, flipped, and slashed diagonally with her blade. Blood sprayed instantly as Yang Heying was cleaved from left shoulder to right abdomen, flesh splitting open and blood gushing out.
Yang Heying collapsed with a scream, but everyone in the hall—including himself—could see Cai Zhao had held back. With the Bright Sun Blade's sharpness, she could have easily bisected him at the waist.
Gritting her teeth against the agony in her left shoulder, Cai Zhao turned to face Li Yuanmin. In just a dozen moves, a sharp snap rang out—Li Yuanmin's longsword was severed by the Bright Sun Blade, and a slash to his shoulder left him unable to grip the hilt.
Then, another shower of tiles and rubble rained down from above. Looking up, they saw figures darting across the hall's roof—disciples from outside had climbed up.
Earlier, after the hall's doors and windows had been blasted and blocked, some had stayed behind to continue smashing the entrance while others remembered the two small skylights on the roof.
Climbing up, they discovered a massive hole blasted in the roof—perfect for a large group to enter.
Just as the disciples outside cheered and began crawling in, a piercing shriek of raptors echoed from the sky—and not just one.
Everyone looked up to see two enormous Golden Winged Rocs swooping down, their wings spanning over ten feet. The fierce gales they stirred slammed into the disciples, sending several tumbling off the roof with screams.
The Golden Winged Rocs had razor-sharp beaks, talons like iron hooks, and wings of immense strength. They alternated between low swoops and perching on beams, swiping left and right to bat the disciples off the roof.
Cai Zhao gazed at the two massive golden figures and finally released the golden whistle from her mouth, smiling wearily.
She waited beneath the gaping hole. Any disciple who fell into the hall met her blade—either a jab to the shoulder or a light slash to the arm—before being kicked aside.
Li Wenxun, unable to move, was livid and roared with all his might, "Cai Zhao, how dare you act like this!"
Ning Xiaofeng, terrified for her unconscious husband, clung tightly to Cai Pingchun and could only shriek, "Zhao Zhao, you can't keep making mistakes—come back now!"Cai Zhao did not turn back, continuing to strike down the falling disciples.
She had long passed the point of return—from the moment she sought an audience with Mu Qingyan yesterday, she had no intention of turning back—
Yesterday, upon entering the dungeon, she had taken the small golden whistle from Mu Qingyan’s neck. The sound of this whistle was inaudible to human ears, but the Golden Winged Roc could hear it.
Then, she pleaded to go to Changwu Fort. Back when she and Mu Qingyan had searched the ancestral graves of the Chang family, they had been exhausted and needed to descend the mountain overnight, so they had left behind seven or eight extra Storm of Thunder explosives buried haphazardly in a corner of the graveyard. Yesterday, while paying respects, she had dug them up again while Fan Xing was distracted.
Next, she knocked Fan Xing unconscious in the middle of the night and disguised herself as him. At the time, the disciples patrolling the temple were from various sects, and even those from the Azure Tower Sect were mostly outer disciples who barely knew Fan Xing. In the darkness, it was hard to distinguish the real from the fake. Seizing this opportunity, she used the golden whistle to summon the two Golden Winged Rocs closer, infiltrated the Zhengyuan Hall, and preemptively planted the Storm of Thunder explosives in critical locations. At the same time, she casually slipped some laxatives into the outer kitchen’s food—fewer disciples capable of wielding swords would be better.
Early the next morning, she rose, first dosing her father, Cai Pingchun, with a numbing powder, and finally, through her words, stirring Zhou Zhizhen’s memories of the past.
—Heh, Fallen Blossom Valley truly has ill-fated feng shui, breeding nothing but ‘demonesses and enchantresses.’
Look at her—in just a few short days, she had devised such a wicked scheme to deceive her masters and betray her ancestors!
By now, apart from a few disciples still struggling with the Golden Winged Rocs, the rooftop was mostly cleared.
Cai Zhao swung the silver chain on her left wrist around Mu Qingyan’s waist and pulled. The shattered bone in her left shoulder flared with excruciating pain, leaving her with no strength. Mu Qingyan himself was already deathly pale, crying out involuntarily, “Zhao Zhao,” before falling silent.
Cai Zhao smiled. “At this point, you’re not going to tell me to ‘let it go,’ are you?”
Mu Qingyan bit his thin lip, staring fiercely at the girl as if imprinting her image into his heart.
Cai Zhao sheathed her blade, leaped onto the rooftop first, then switched to her right hand to pull Mu Qingyan up.
Ning Xiaofeng watched helplessly as her daughter prepared to leave, letting out a heart-wrenching cry from the depths of her chest. “Zhao Zhao, where are you going?!”
She thought of the fates of all the ‘demonesses and enchantresses’ from Fallen Blossom Valley’s history—none of them had ever been heard from again. Terrified that her daughter was treading the same path, never to return, she wept uncontrollably, her face streaked with tears, calling out again and again, “Zhao Zhao, don’t go! What will I do if you leave?! Will you ever come back?! Zhao Zhao, don’t go, Zhao Zhao…”
Song Yuzhi was stunned. In his memory, Ning Xiaofeng had always been proud and willful, living a life of luxury—he had never seen her cry like this.
As he stood dazed, he suddenly heard movement behind him. Turning, he saw his own father, Song Yu, rise abruptly at some point, and under Pang Xiongxin’s dumbfounded gaze, he shouted at the rooftop, “Cai Zhao, you heartless brat! If you want to let that bastard Mu go, fine, but you’re not allowed to leave yourself!”
Hearing Ning Xiaofeng’s cries, Mu Qingyan turned dazedly to look up at the girl above him, his heart in turmoil. Part of him wanted to drag her down, to make her his and his alone, while another part wanted her to return, to reunite with her family.
Then, a teardrop struck Mu Qingyan’s face with force.
He looked up to see the girl hanging from the roof beam, tears falling one by one, yet she gritted her teeth and continued to haul him up.
Somewhere deep in his heart, he felt as though a wall had crumbled.Song Shijun saw that shouting was futile, so he gathered his energy and swiftly pulled out the four or five Soul Confusion Needles. Then, he struck the massive stone blocking the entrance with a series of palm strikes. Decades of Song’s formidable cultivation were no small matter—with several thunderous crashes, the stone door that had been chiseled apart shattered into pieces, and disciples outside the hall rushed in. By then, Cai Zhao had already pulled Mu Qingyan onto the back of the Golden Winged Roc.
“Fools, why are you coming in?!” Song Shijun roared at the disciples. “Go out and shoot arrows! Shoot down those two golden-haired beasts!”
But it was too late. Amid the volley of arrows fired by the disciples, the two Golden Winged Rocs spread their wings and soared higher, growing ever more distant.
Helpless against Ning Xiaofeng, who was now weeping uncontrollably, Song Shijun could only turn and rush to Li Wenxun’s side. He hastily removed the Soul Confusion Needles from him and circulated his qi to restore his meridians. Once freed, Li Wenxun leapt up in fury, his eyes nearly splitting from rage.
“Where are the archers?! Send them on swift horses to pursue them!” Li Wenxun pressed a hand on Qi Yunke’s shoulder and gritted his teeth. “Sect Leader, forgive my overstepping.”
Then, before the leaders and disciples of the six sects, he declared in a grave voice: “Cai Zhao has colluded with the Demonic Cult, betrayed her masters and ancestors, harmed her elders, and maimed her fellow disciples—her crimes are unforgivable! I call upon all sects to issue pursuit orders immediately, rallying the martial world to capture or execute the Demonic Cult’s Mu Qingyan and the North Star’s traitorous disciple, Cai Zhao!”
Ning Xiaofeng let out a heart-wrenching scream before collapsing unconscious. Qi Yunke’s face twisted in anguish, Zhou Zhizhen closed his eyes, and Yang Heying nearly leapt up, eager to lead the chase himself.
Pang Xiongxin quietly approached Song Shijun and whispered, “Sect Leader, this situation has escalated too far… isn’t this unwise?”
Song Shijun stroked his beard awkwardly. “Truthfully, I didn’t expect the girl to strike so ruthlessly. Ah, I don’t know—we’ll just have to take it step by step. Yuzhi, where’s Yuzhi?”
The two turned to search and saw Song Yuzhi standing alone in the center of the hall.
He stared blankly at the patch of sky visible through the hollowed-out roof—so clear and blue, vast and distant, so utterly final, never to return.
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