Blood mist coiled around him, clouding his senses. Shen Yuefu felt his spirit flicker, the world before his eyes spinning with countless overlapping illusions.
"Sword, come!"
His mind snapped into clarity. Shen Yuefu summoned the Lǚshuang Yǔn Immortal Sword and cleaved forward in a flash.
But Li Hao only stood there with a twisted smile, his figure eerily still.
Seeing only Li Hao's back, Pei Xianqiao suddenly rushed forward.
"Brother Yuefu, don't kill him!"
He's just a mortal. What could he possibly do? In Pei Xianqiao's heart, Li Hao must have been coerced by someone. She wanted to keep him alive, to uncover the mastermind, and to stop Shen Yuefu from killing an innocent.
"Elder Shang, help me!"
Pei Xianqiao knew she couldn't stop Shen Yuefu's sword on her own. But Elder Shang had recovered from his injuries—at least enough to lend her strength.
"No! You can't hurt them!"
Beyond their clash, a guttural roar split the air. Meng Xiangxiang, twisted into a towering ghostly form, let out a terrible cry.
Outside the blood mist.
Yao Ranran walked forward in confusion, stopping beside the ghost. She looked at the tense group as though they were facing a great calamity, and asked, baffled, "Are you afraid of a mortal?"
"Who are you?" Meng Xiangxiang froze mid-charge, whipping his head toward the woman on the ground as one ghostly hand struck out.
Yao Ranran didn't move. She simply watched the ghost hand descend toward her head.
"What's so frightening about a mortal? Are you really afraid of the blood mist he spat out?"
"It's you?!" The massive ghost hand stopped above her head. Meng Xiangxiang clutched his chest, staring at her in disbelief.
"Why… why would you hurt me?"
A sword was buried in his chest—the Cangling Snow Sword, Pei Xianqiao's life-bound treasure.
Dark qi poured out of the wound. That strike had grievously wounded him.
Meng Xiangxiang wrenched the sword out with brute force, its blade trailing shadowy miasma as it returned to Pei Xianqiao's grip. She saw the pain and fragility in his eyes, and guilt stirred within her.
"I thought… you were trying to ambush Brother Yuefu…"
Her pale voice trembled. Only now did she realize the ghost hadn't meant to harm them.
Beside her, Elder Shang strained to block Shen Yuefu's sword. And there, caught between them, Li Hao revealed a horrifying smile.
"Elder Shen, you came just in time."
His voice was low and rasping, like a demon speaking from the abyss. The Lǚshuang Yǔn Immortal Sword had failed to kill him. Shen Yuefu's eyes narrowed, his cold gaze sharp as steel.
"You knew who I was all along?"
"Hehehe… hehehehe…" Li Hao only laughed.
Then his body suddenly erupted.
Flesh and blood burst apart, splattering Shen Yuefu without warning. The filthy gore drenched the immortal sword. The Lǚshuang Yǔn Immortal Sword trembled three times, its light vanishing, before it fell to the ground like useless iron.
Shen Yuefu's defenses were shattered. His cold features were streaked with blood, his robes torn and dripping with gore. His body staggered, vision blurred. Through the haze, he thought he saw her—the woman he had pursued for so long—standing behind the ghostly figure.
"Brother Yuefu!"
Pei Xianqiao's grip tightened around the Cangling Snow Sword. Her beautiful face turned pale, her cry piercing as she rushed toward him.
Boom!
The colossal ghost collapsed to the earth.
Meng Xiangxiang's eyes went hollow, his expression drained of hope.
"I'm about to die…"
"I can save you." Yao Ranran appeared beside him, her voice brushing his ear.
A single tear slid from Meng Xiangxiang's eye. "Thank you, but no one can save me now…"
"But I can. As long as you have enough spirit stones." Yao Ranran's tone was calm.
Meng Xiangxiang thought it a cruel joke. He no longer had the strength to be angry. "I have no will to live. If you want spirit stones, that stone house is filled with them."
"Stone house? Where?" Yao Ranran's eyes lit with curiosity.
His gaze shifted south, toward a dense ancient forest. Hatred flared within them.
"The stone house lies hidden there, guarded by the man in black robes."
"So the spirit stones belong to someone else?" Yao Ranran frowned. Robbing others was fast money, but using ill-gotten gains always left her uneasy.
"He's no master—just a bastard from another realm. If I weren't dying, I would kill him myself!" Meng Xiangxiang glared at the forest with venom.
Yao Ranran blinked. "The man in black robes… is he the one behind An Mingqi?"
"Yes. An Mingqi is just his dog. If you seek those stones, beware of him. He's cunning, deceitful, and wields the Black Tower, a celestial artifact his master brought from another world. Avoid him at all costs!"
With his last breaths, Meng Xiangxiang spilled everything he knew.
Yao Ranran believed him. Dying men did not waste breath on lies.
After all, she had already seen An Mingqi's Black Tower herself. As for his deceit and treachery, she had scarcely needed to test him—she had subdued him before he had the chance.
"Thank you, kind soul." Yao Ranran bowed in gratitude. If he still had the will to live, she would have healed him for free, to repay this debt of knowledge. Without him, she might have left Qingshui County altogether, never learning of the fortune hidden in the forest.
She nearly missed a mountain of wealth.
Turning in excitement, she heard Meng Xiangxiang's final breath, his eyes shutting in despair.
Then—crack.
A sharp, familiar sound echoed by her ear.
Meng Xiangxiang's fading consciousness stirred. "That sound… I've heard it before…"
His eyes opened a sliver. And there, hanging at the woman's waist, dangled a small black tower.
A black… tower?
The Black Tower!
His eyes widened. He stared in horror at her back, the artifact clear as day.
Yao Ranran paused. "That's right. I can't wear this in the open. I'll need to hide it, or that black-robed man will notice."
The artifact couldn't be stored away, forcing her to keep it tied to her belt.
"You… you…" Meng Xiangxiang stammered, trembling with disbelief.
Yao Ranran tilted her head at his weak voice. "Meng Daoyou, do you have more to tell me? Another treasure house, perhaps?" She rubbed her hands together, eyes alight with excitement.
"You… you…"
"Go on, I'm listening."
"You… you… save me!"
Meng Xiangxiang finally understood. This woman had hidden her strength all along—that was how she had slaughtered the innkeeper and his men so easily.
"Huh?" Yao Ranran blinked.
Hadn't he given up on life just moments ago?
"I beg you! Please, Fairy, save me. I was blind, I misjudged you!"
His voice broke into sobs. He didn't want to die. He still had vengeance to take—for his mother, for his younger brother. He could not die here.