The three Spirit Kings held back by Qian Renxue in the end also failed to escape their fate.
One fell beneath her blade.
The other two became souls lost to Li Zhexian's sword.
By the roadside, corpses lay scattered.
A heavy stench of blood spread for miles.
The killing intent lingering in the air froze the very atmosphere—so thick and suffocating that even the soul beasts of the forest whimpered and withdrew.
The two Windchaser Horse had perished as well, shredded to pieces by the aftermath of battle.
Li Zhexian and Qian Renxue pressed forward in silence for over an hour.
The murderous aura clinging to their chests had yet to disperse. Neither spoke a word, only advancing along the official road in heavy silence.
Li Zhexian's gaze was like ice, sweeping the surroundings with vigilance.
Qian Renxue's head hung low, her golden hair veiling her flawless features, making her expression unreadable.
"Let's stop until dawn."
Li Zhexian's voice suddenly broke the quiet, hoarse from exhaustion.
"There should be no more enemies."
Qian Renxue nodded faintly.
The two finally stopped beneath a towering tree whose vast canopy spread like an umbrella.
Qian Renxue silently gathered dead branches and kindled a fire.
Li Zhexian sprinkled around them the beast-repelling powder given by Dugu Yan.
When all was done, they sat leaning against the trunk.
The dim yellow glow of the fire flickered across their faces.
Li Zhexian shut his eyes, the taut strings of his nerves slowly loosening, as weariness surged like a tide.
Tired.
Bone-deep tired.
Not only from days of relentless travel—
But also from the life-and-death struggle just now, every instant of which had consumed his spirit like fire burning oil.
"Qian Renxue…"
His eyelids lifted slightly.
He had intended to check her condition, perhaps let her take the first watch.
But when he turned toward her, his gaze froze.
Qian Renxue sat with her knees drawn close, staring blankly into the fire.
Two lines of clear tears stained her fair cheeks.
Li Zhexian panicked.
He could not understand at first why she was crying.
"Qian Renxue, you—"
The words stalled on his lips.
Her lips pressed tight, she slowly turned her face toward him.
A pair of azure eyes, brimming with tears, fixed upon him as she whispered tremulously:
"I'm… I'm sorry…"
"I'm sorry…"
The Spirit King earlier had addressed her as "Saintess."
That alone revealed their origin—the Spirit Hall.
And in today's Spirit Hall, two factions stood in open opposition.
The Elder Hall, led by the Qian clan's bloodline, called her "Young Mistress."
But only the Pope Hall… called her "Saintess."
Therefore—
It was that woman who had sent people to kill Li Zhexian!
This truth shattered Qian Renxue's composure.
Though raised cloistered in the palace since youth, her temperament had long been honed beyond her peers.
But when it came to matters of the heart—
Her heart remained an untouched canvas.
She did not know how to treat Li Zhexian well.
She only clumsily thought to settle his wine debts, to sit quietly fishing by his side, to drink and practice sword under the moon with him.
When crushed by schemes and burdens of power, each time she collapsed in exhaustion, it was the memory of Li Zhexian's gaze during the day that brought a faint smile to her lips and granted her peaceful sleep.
That was her only solace.
More than her divine Angel Martial Soul, it was he who could dispel her darkness.
Yet such a man, so good, had bled because of her.
It pained Qian Renxue bitterly—
As though she herself had brought misfortune upon him.
She wanted nothing more than for Li Zhexian to live in safety and joy.
Yet because of her, he had been drenched in blood.
Recalling their long silence on the road, she feared even more that he might come to despise her.
"I'm… sorry…"
Her suppressed tears finally broke free.
Moonlight and firelight mingled upon her form.
With tear-stained eyes, she gazed at Li Zhexian, fragile as porcelain about to shatter.
Those repeated whispers of apology—
At last let Li Zhexian understand the reason for her tears.
—She thought she had dragged me down?
"…Haa."
Li Zhexian sighed lightly.
Facing those tear-filled eyes, testing and fearful, a string in his heart was plucked.
He edged a little closer.
Taking the fire-poking stick from her hands, he stirred the embers, pulling free half-burned branches from the bottom.
Crackle—
Sparks leapt.
Even in her sorrow, Qian Renxue instinctively reached out her delicate hand—
Shielding him from the sparks, fearing he might be burned.
A gentle warmth softened Li Zhexian's features.
"Qian Renxue…"
"Do you not yet know what kind of man I am?"
He turned toward her, gazing at the breathtaking girl before him, who still carried such careful restraint in his presence.
"When I make friends, I never care for status or birth."
"What of princes or nobles? What of great sects?"
"Even a street storyteller—if his words strike my heart—I would give him a gold coin, and sit with him over a bowl of plain noodles."
"Even if the world brands you a butcher, if you treat me with sincerity, I will never betray you."
"On the other hand—even if the world praises you as a saint—if you treat me poorly, it means nothing."
The light in Qian Renxue's tearful eyes stilled.
Li Zhexian's tone grew firm:
"All your kindness to me on the road from Wind Sword Sect—I have not forgotten."
"Some things are not your burden. You need not take them on yourself."
"Qian Renxue, it wasn't you who wanted me dead."
At these last words, she shook her head in panic.
In her urgency, she grabbed his arm with both hands, blurting:
"Of course not! How could I ever harm you?"
"Then that's enough."
Li Zhexian shook his head helplessly.
"Why torment yourself over what is not your fault? It has nothing to do with you."
With that, he prodded around in the fire.
Before Qian Renxue's teary, astonished gaze, he pulled out two charred lumps.
"Never seen these, have you?"
He picked one up with bare hands.
His Frostfire-resistant body feared no heat.
With a bit of pressure, the blackened husk split apart.
At once a rich sweetness wafted out, revealing golden, steaming flesh within.
"Here, try it."
Qian Renxue accepted it, swallowing quietly.
"This… what is it?"
"A kind of wild tuber. Didn't think I'd find some here."
Li Zhexian split one for himself, took a bite, and nodded with satisfaction.
"Mmm, very sweet. Try it."
Qian Renxue nibbled cautiously.
Warm sweetness melted instantly on her tongue, so delightful she widened her eyes in surprise—her sorrow faintly eased.
"…Delicious."
She spoke softly.
Watching her holy beauty tinged with the smoke and firelight, her rosy lips smudged with a trace of soot, Li Zhexian's smile deepened.
"Your smile is still the most beautiful."
Her chewing faltered.
A flush crept across her cheeks.
Nibbling the roasted tuber in small bites, her voice grew delicate:
"Then… I'll smile at you more often, from now on…"