She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 86

◎Three Terrifying Combos◎

As soon as they left the Guiyuan Sect, the weather noticeably turned colder.

Within the sect, special formations ensured that the seasons remained as mild as spring all year round. This was especially true for Wujia Guifeng, where the grass stayed lush and green in every season—largely because Ji Qinghong preferred fresh grass for his meals.

It wasn’t until their flying saucer exited the protective barrier of the Guiyuan Sect’s mountain array that the biting chill of winter, much like the sudden rebelliousness of mischievous youngsters, seeped into every crevice and rushed straight at them.

Standing by the railing of the flying saucer’s balcony, Yan Luoyue felt the cold wind against her face and belatedly realized that winter had arrived.

—That’s right. She had spent three months each at the Sword Peak, Talisman Peak, and Alchemy Peak, exchanging teachings and insights.

Add in the scattered days here and there, and nearly a full year had passed since she and Wu Manshuang first joined the sect.

Spring had turned to winter, and Yan Luoyue’s birthday was approaching once again.

As the trio traveled southward, the initially frigid climate gradually warmed due to the changing geographical surroundings.

Finally, they arrived at their destination—the small town where a bloody incident had once occurred: Shancha Town.

It was said that the wild camellias in the surrounding hundred-mile radius bloomed from the beginning of the year to its end.

Nearby landmarks—Shancha Peak, Shancha Stream, Shancha Town, and Shancha City—all derived their names from this very feature.

As the flying saucer entered the outskirts of Shancha Town, Yan Luoyue looked down upon the land and saw a sea of blossoms covering the green mountains.

Large, crimson camellias bloomed in extravagant splendor, their petals refusing to show even a hint of decay from full bloom to wilting, like drops of blood spilled upon the earth by the gods.

“So beautiful…”

Near the town, Yan Luoyue found an open clearing to land, storing the flying saucer back into her storage pouch.

The southern region could be considered the territory of the Hongtong Palace. Not only were the three of them unfamiliar with the area, but upon closer consideration, Yan Luoyue might even have some unresolved grudges with the local lord’s dim-witted son—grudges born from the contrast between his foolishness and her own clever, brave turtle spirit.

Since this was someone else’s turf, it wouldn’t do to act too brazenly.

Thus, aside from Wu Manshuang, who remained cloaked in his ever-present black robe, both Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun changed into more inconspicuous attire, blending in like ordinary travelers.

They mingled in the town’s taverns and teahouses, listening for stories like the most unremarkable patrons.

Fortunately, during their growth phase, all demons took on a youthful appearance regardless of their actual age.

A group of teenagers who looked thirteen or fourteen wouldn’t stand out even if they wandered into a tavern.

From the tavern waiter, they learned two crucial pieces of information.

The first was that the current Shancha Town was not the same as the one from decades past.

“The town from eighty years ago? Pah! Most of the people there were slaughtered, turning the place into a ghost town. Nobody goes near it anymore.”

“Eventually, everyone moved out, and the old town was left abandoned. At night, eerie winds howl through the streets—not even beggars dare to stay there.”

Assuming the youngsters were merely curious, the waiter lazily jutted his chin in a direction when they asked about the old town’s location.

“Over there, see?”

The second important detail they uncovered was that, in the past decade, a strange notice had quietly appeared in the nearby Shancha City.

This information came from a heavily intoxicated man in the tavern.

He boasted, “Bet your life, and you’ll get endless rewards—simple as that! It’s a deal only the bold can take!”

The drunkard bragged, “I was hired to slay golden dragons, subdue jade phoenixes—even an ink qilin couldn’t withstand a single punch from my fist!”

As he spoke, he brandished a short sword sheath, studded with gold and jade, showing it off to everyone around him.

Wu Manshuang only needed to glance at it through his white veil before silently tugging at Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun’s sleeves.

They had seen an identical sheath not long ago.

At the awards ceremony of the Sword Dao Grand Assembly eighty years prior, this very short sword—alongside a peach blossom hairpin—had been displayed among a dazzling array of prizes.

With just twenty more taels of silver spent on drinks, the tavern waiter’s words flowed freely.

“Pah! Don’t listen to that old fool’s nonsense. Everyone in town knows the truth isn’t what he claims!”

Ling Shuanghun smiled faintly and placed another small piece of silver by the table’s edge.

“Then what’s the real story? We’d appreciate your insight.”

Pocketing the silver, the waiter instantly became an all-knowing source of information.

“You see, for the past ten years, there’s been a grand notice posted here every year—its contents are quite intriguing: ‘Bet your life, and the rewards are endless. Immortal or mortal, it matters not; destination unknown.’”

“Bet your life?” Yan Luoyue’s expression grew more serious. “How exactly does this gamble work?”

The waiter slapped his thigh emphatically. “That’s the thing—nobody knows!”

“Some people tear the notice down, but it doesn’t matter. Others get chosen the very next day. Those who are selected always disappear for three to five days. When they return, their arms are full of gold, silver, and jewels.”

“But if you ask them what happened, they can’t even explain it themselves. In the end, they just make up wild stories like that old drunk.”

Yan Luoyue pressed further, “If it’s called ‘betting your life,’ how many people never return?”

The waiter paused, slightly taken aback. “Hmm… actually, I’ve never heard of any.”

In the past, some missing persons cases had been blamed on the notice.

But upon investigation, they turned out to be ordinary human crimes—murder for wealth, arson, robbery—completely unrelated to the grand notice.

Wu Manshuang repeated the notice’s words thoughtfully.

“‘Immortal or mortal, it matters not; destination unknown.’ So even cultivators would tear this notice down?”

The waiter answered offhandedly, “They do. In the past, some cultivators stopped by our tavern. Word was, after tearing the notice down, they obtained some truly extraordinary treasures.”

He smacked his lips enviously. “If even immortal masters consider them extraordinary, they must be as rare as dragon livers or phoenix marrow!”

At the table, the three exchanged a meaningful glance.

Wu Manshuang, his eyes veiled, lightly tugged his friends’ sleeves again.

Ling Shuanghun asked with a smile, “This notice sounds fascinating. Where exactly is it posted?”

The waiter replied casually, “Head to Shancha City, and the first notice you see will be the Life-Betting Decree.”

Wiping a cup clean, the waiter looked up with a flattering grin.

“Rumor has it, the more people tear it down together, the higher the chances of being chosen. With your noble bearings, I’m sure the three of you will return laden with riches!”

……

Upon arriving in Shancha City, a little inquiry quickly led them to the Life-Betting Decree.

As the locals put it, the notice’s persistence was a spectacle in itself.

No matter how many times it was torn down, an identical copy would reappear in the same spot within the time it took to drink a cup of tea.

When Yan Luoyue stood before the notice board and saw the golden decree, the corners of her lips curled into a faint smile.

"I thought it was something else, but it turns out to be a refining technique."

Indeed, what kept this "Life-and-Death Bounty" persistently displayed wasn’t the bounty itself, but the seemingly ordinary announcement wall.

Yan Luoyue chuckled. "Someone refined this wall into a magical artifact—its function is to continuously repost the same bounty. The craftsmanship is exquisite, and the idea is quite clever."

As she spoke, she rose onto her tiptoes and plucked the high-hanging bounty from the wall, flicking it lightly with her fingers.

"Now, let’s see if we get chosen."

With Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s combined skills, as long as they didn’t encounter an exceptionally formidable cultivator, the dangers of the world weren’t much of a threat to them.

Still, despite having an advantage, Yan Luoyue made additional preparations.

Ever since arriving in Camellia Town, she had written her daily itinerary and next day’s plans on paper cranes every evening, sending them to Jiang Tingbai as a sign of safety.

This way, if her messages were abruptly cut off, her meticulous senior brother would easily deduce what had happened.

Less than three days after taking the bounty, while the trio was climbing Camellia Peak, they were ambushed.

It was a bright and sunny morning.

A voice, cold to the point of cruelty, suddenly rang out behind them.

He said, "So, you’re the ones who took my bounty."

Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang spun around instantly, with Ling Shuanghun reacting just as swiftly.

Yet, before they could even glimpse the man’s figure or appearance, they felt an icy palm press against the back of their heads.

His speed was so fast that even Yan Luoyue’s reflexes only allowed her to catch a glimpse of his ashen-gray afterimage.

Wu Manshuang turned slightly faster than Yan Luoyue, but even he couldn’t make out the man’s face—only his eyes.

Those eyes were the same lifeless gray, like stagnant water long since decayed and hardened.

Not even a boulder hurled into the center could stir the slightest ripple.

With one hand on Yan Luoyue and the other on Wu Manshuang, the man spoke icily, "You’ve got quite the audacity for such young ages."

For some reason, the moment he spoke, the three of them froze as if under a paralysis spell—unable to move even their eyeballs!

The ashen-gray man said coldly, "At your age, you shouldn’t be dabbling in something as dangerous as a life-and-death bounty."

"Do you even realize that once you take this bounty, I won’t treat you like children anymore?"

The moment his words fell, Yan Luoyue’s vision darkened abruptly, and she collapsed heavily to the ground.

In the last flicker of consciousness before blacking out, she saw Wu Manshuang and Ling Shuanghun falling in perfect sync with her.

The three of them toppled over in such neat parallel lines that it almost looked choreographed.

……

Wu Manshuang awoke from unconsciousness, quietly opening his eyes beneath the veil of his white gauze.

Above him was the intricately carved canopy of a traditional bed, with Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun lying peacefully on either side.

All three of them had their hands folded over their chests in a serene posture—as if they were merely awaiting someone to lay flowers and pour libations at their graves.

Wu Manshuang: "……"

After listening carefully and hearing no unusual sounds, he cautiously propped himself up.

With his left hand, he reached behind his head to loosen the gauze, while his right hand gave Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun a light nudge.

"Luoyue? Little Ling?"

After calling their names softly a few times with no response, Wu Manshuang frowned and slipped off the bed without a sound.

His gloves, robe, cloak, and storage pouch were all still on him—only his sword had been taken.

It seemed their captor hadn’t searched their personal belongings, depriving Wu Manshuang of a chance to poison him.

The moment his feet touched the ground, Wu Manshuang felt an overwhelming heaviness in his body, with not a trace of spiritual energy circulating through his meridians.

Since shifting into his demonic form required spiritual power, he couldn’t even transform into a snake now.

"……"

His heart sank slightly as he tried reaching into his storage pouch—only to find he couldn’t retrieve anything.

It was as if he had been reduced overnight to a mortal who had never stepped onto the path of cultivation.

Worse yet, despite having long since reached the stage where he no longer needed food, Wu Manshuang’s stomach emitted an unfamiliar yet familiar "growl."

Though, given his current tension, the hunger wasn’t too noticeable yet.

After scanning the room, Wu Manshuang confirmed they were locked in a bedroom.

The red-lacquered doors and windows were tightly shut, and a pot of tea with a plate of pastries sat on the table.

After a moment’s thought, Wu Manshuang pulled a candlestick from the bedside and grabbed an empty porcelain cup from the table.

He moved to the farthest corner from the bed, pressing the sharp tip of the candlestick against his wrist.

With Luoyue and Little Ling still unconscious, Wu Manshuang—even without a shred of cultivation—was the only one who could protect them now.

While their captor was absent, he intended to draw some of his own poisonous blood as a precaution.

"—At your age, you shouldn’t be so quick to despair. Being captured by me isn’t reason enough to seek death."

A calm, indifferent voice suddenly echoed through the room.

Wu Manshuang jolted, snapping his head up.

There, seated at the table with a wine cup in hand, was the gray-robed man who had subdued them earlier.

His face was half-hidden behind a silver-iron mask, revealing only those dead gray eyes, a sharp jawline, and pale, bloodless lips.

From Wu Manshuang’s perspective, the doors and windows remained tightly shut.

…When had this man entered?

Or had he never left at all?

Yet, before the man spoke, Wu Manshuang hadn’t sensed his presence—or even the faint aroma of wine—in the slightest.

He had even picked up that empty cup right in front of the man without realizing it!

A chill ran down his spine as Wu Manshuang decisively drove the candlestick’s tip into his wrist with full force—enough to pierce straight through.

Yet, his arm might as well have been forged from steel—not even a faint mark was left behind.

At this, the gray-robed man finally reacted.

Setting down his wine cup, he sighed softly.

"Child, you’re a bit of a problem."

Delivering this line with detached indifference, the man rose and walked unhurriedly toward the bed.

Through the thin bed curtains, the silhouettes of Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun were faintly visible.

"—Stop right there!"

Wu Manshuang barked sharply.

He tore off his gloves and lunged forward in three swift strides, seizing the man’s sleeve in a fierce grip.

At the same time, his gaze locked unwaveringly onto the man’s eyes.

Due to his spiritual power being sealed, Wu Manshuang could no longer control the convergence of toxins within his body. At this moment, the substance secreted from his skin was his original, lethal poison—enough to kill a person on contact.

Additionally, his gaze carried a paralyzing effect.

Even if the man before him stiffened for just an instant, Wu Manshuang would seize the opportunity to shove his venom-coated palm down the man’s throat.

Flaming eyes of fury met dull, lifeless gray irises.

Yet, the next moment, nothing happened.

The toxins that touched the man had no effect.

The paralyzing spiritual attack dissipated like mud sinking into the sea, leaving no trace behind.

The only reaction was a slight furrow of the man’s brow beneath his iron-gray mask. "You really are a bit troublesome," he remarked flatly.

With that, he struck backhandedly, immobilizing Wu Manshuang’s movements.

The gray-robed man stepped forward and lifted the gauze curtain.

Under Wu Manshuang’s tense gaze, he surveyed the scene briefly before finally seizing Yan Luoyue by the back of her collar.

"...Let her go."

Wu Manshuang stared fixedly at the gray-robed man, as if trying to turn his gaze into twin daggers that would carve straight into the man’s heart.

For the first time in his life, he hissed like a venomous serpent, the sound eerie and chilling.

"Don’t harm her. Whatever you want someone to gamble their life for, I’ll cooperate fully."

Word by word, Wu Manshuang ground out, "But if you so much as scratch a single finger of hers… I’ll trade my life for yours."

After hearing this, the gray-robed man studied Wu Manshuang deeply.

For a fleeting moment, his fingers loosened slightly, as if considering setting Yan Luoyue down.

Yet, in the end, his lips remained an unyielding line, betraying no hint of the momentary hesitation.

"Understood."

By the time the gray-robed man dragged Yan Luoyue out by her collar, her feet scraping the floor as she was hauled from the bed, she still hadn’t awakened.

She dangled limply, like a kitten snatched by the scruff of its neck, as the man carried her out of the room.

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

Before locking the door behind him, the gray-robed man gave Wu Manshuang a slight nod.

"Then, be a well-behaved guest. Don’t do anything a guest shouldn’t."

After a pause, he added, "If I find you’ve overstepped even an inch, your other friend will be ‘invited’ to a different room."

---

The moment Yan Luoyue opened her eyes, she realized her spiritual power had been sealed—not a shred of it remained accessible.

She glanced around and sat up.

After confirming her storage pouch wouldn’t open, she immediately turned her attention to a red mole on the back of her hand.

—Heh, you bastard, didn’t expect this, did you?

She had stashed a tattoo-style, spirit-free, instant-access portable storage mole here!

This mole was something she’d crafted during the Thousand Refinements Assembly.

Since it wasn’t a fashionable accessory in the cultivation world, she’d kept it stuck to her hand ever since.

Yan Luoyue first retrieved a communication stone and tried contacting Ling Shuanghun and Wu Manshuang.

"Manshuang? Shuanghun? Pick up! Answer me!"

The calls wouldn’t connect—likely meaning her companions were also in some kind of trouble.

Without hesitation, she rummaged in the storage mole again and released a red paper crane—an emergency distress signal.

Feeling one wasn’t enough, Yan Luoyue didn’t even blink as she kept pulling out more.

She grabbed them by the handful, releasing over a hundred in one go.

Though the doors and windows were shut tight, preventing the cranes from flying out, the moment someone opened them, the swarm could rush through.

Even if just one escaped, it would be a strategic victory!

If numbers were an issue, she could always dig deeper into the mole.

She was pretty sure she’d stored over a thousand emergency cranes in there!

"...That’s enough."

Just as Yan Luoyue was about to release her two-hundredth crane, a muffled voice abruptly spoke in the dim room.

Yan Luoyue’s head snapped up, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

At that instant, the same thought flashed through her mind as Wu Manshuang’s half an hour earlier:

—When did this man get in here?

Or had he been standing there all along, silently watching?

The gray-robed man stood openly in the center of the room.

Behind his mask, his gaze—as dull as his voice—rested on the red mole on Yan Luoyue’s hand.

"Is this… a storage mole?"

Even when posing a question, his tone was flat, devoid of curiosity, as if the very concept had long been buried.

Yan Luoyue paused briefly before naturally curving her lips into a friendly smile.

"Yep, I made this one myself. Want to know how?"

The gray-robed man shook his head coldly. "Not interested."

He raised a hand, and in an instant, all two hundred red cranes burst into flames and vanished.

At the same time, he deliberately and slowly revealed five white paper cranes in his palm, showing them to Yan Luoyue.

Yan Luoyue: "!!!"

Wait—weren’t those the message cranes she’d been sending to her senior brother over the past few days?

Five in total… exactly the number she’d released.

Which meant—this gray-robed man had been watching them since the very first day they entered Camellia Town, even before they’d taken on any assignments!

Her mind racing, Yan Luoyue’s smile grew even more harmless.

She cheerfully tucked the communication stone back into the mole, then peeled it off and offered it to him.

"You’re not into artifact crafting, but you’ve got to admit, this mole’s pretty neat, right? I’ll give it to you if you answer one question."

Battling her lashes pleadingly, she asked in a soft voice, "How are my two friends doing?"

"..."

The gray-robed man gave her an extra glance, as if her behavior wasn’t quite what he expected from a hostage.

Tonelessly, he replied, "They’re exactly as you are now."

—So, Wu Manshuang and Ling Shuanghun were still safe.

Yan Luoyue hoped they weren’t being held separately.

"Mm, thank you." She stood on tiptoe and held the mole out to him.

"Here, you can stick it anywhere—it’ll work."

The gray-robed man took it, pressed it back onto her hand, and this time, even without spiritual power, Yan Luoyue couldn’t access it.

Seeing he wasn’t leaving immediately, Yan Luoyue amiably pulled out two chairs.

Playing the host, she invited him to sit and poured tea for both of them.

"It’s still warm—thanks for that."

She thanked him again, then casually asked, "By the way, how did you knock all three of us out?"

The gray-robed man’s lips curled faintly in something like disdain. "That’s your second question."

"—But I’ll tell you. I used a spiritual attack."

Even though she had already guessed it in her heart, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but grit her teeth slightly upon hearing the answer.

Extending one’s divine sense was a technique unique to cultivators at the Golden Core level or above. To execute divine sense attacks or act with complete freedom, one needed at least a Nascent Soul cultivation base.

In other words, this person’s cultivation was at least at the mid-Nascent Soul stage—or possibly even… a Divine Transformation expert!

To encounter such a mighty figure in the middle of nowhere was unexpected.

Yan Luoyue bit the tip of her tongue to stay calm, thinking that this time, she had truly met her match.

Before the Thousand Refinements Assembly, Ji Qinghong had sealed Ling Shuanghun’s memories of him using a divine sense blockade.

At that time, Yan Luoyue and the other two were only at the late Foundation Establishment stage and hadn’t even begun cultivating their divine senses.

Even if they knew the attacker’s methods, they had no way to defend against them—which was why the gray-robed man had confidently revealed this information.

“I see. Thank you for answering an extra question,” Yan Luoyue said with another polite smile, holding her teacup.

“Then I’ll thank you once more, and you can answer another question for me, alright? Why did you take the three of us?”

The gray-robed man hesitated before finally letting his cold facade slip.

He sighed and asked, “Little girl, aren’t you afraid at all?”

—Well, not exactly. If you gave up using divine sense attacks and just hit me normally, you’d quickly find out who should be afraid.

Yan Luoyue thought this to herself but kept it to herself.

“You still haven’t told me,” she dodged his question and repeated hers instead. “What do you plan to do with the three of us?”

Among all the targets who had ever been taken for the "Life-or-Death Bounty," Yan Luoyue’s reaction was truly one of a kind.

Because of this, the gray-robed man privately wondered if this little girl had been spoiled by her family and simply didn’t understand fear.

In contrast, the boy who had woken up earlier seemed far more mature for his age.

…Perhaps a little too mature.

Even now, the gray-robed man couldn’t figure out why the boy’s first action upon waking had been to slit his own wrist.

And how had he done it so decisively, as if he had done it hundreds of times before?

Ignoring Yan Luoyue’s tea, the man swept his palm across the table, summoning a longsword and a wine flask.

Perhaps intentionally, the sword—though sheathed—was placed with its tip pointed directly at Yan Luoyue.

Since a poke probably wouldn’t even make her bleed much, she pretended not to notice.

The gray-robed man poured himself a drink, his voice as cold and sharp as a blade.

“Why did I take you? Good question—I have an old grudge…”

Halfway through his sentence, he noticed the little girl staring at him intently.

Her expression was innocent, her mind seemingly too simple to grasp the gravity of his words.

“…”

With a self-deprecating chuckle, he suddenly felt foolish for explaining seriously.

He abruptly changed his tone. “Because I eat children. I need the hearts and livers of a hundred boys and girls every day as medicinal ingredients. I happened to see you three, so I took you.”

Yan Luoyue: “…Oh.”

What kind of disjointed, textbook nonsense was this? Did he think she was an idiot?!

After a brief pause, she couldn’t resist asking, “Um… about those medicinal ingredients—do turtle hearts count?”

Even though she couldn’t shift into her true form right now, she was still a turtle at heart.

“…”

The gray-robed man was momentarily speechless before replying coldly, “They count.”

He gathered the wine flask and cup, then picked up the sword, standing to loom over her with a warning.

“I’m not a patient man. Stay here and behave like a polite little guest—until I come to cut out your heart tomorrow.”

He emphasized the last sentence, clearly trying to intimidate her.

With ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‍a cold laugh, he added, “If you step out of line even slightly, I’ll…”

In that moment, a hundred bloody, ruthless threats flashed through his mind.

But none seemed appropriate for a child.

After a brief hesitation, he settled on an example she’d easily understand—one drawn from everyday life.

“…I’ll make you stub your toe against a wall until it swells, then get your fingers caught in a door a hundred times.”

Yan Luoyue: “…”

Damn, why not add “scratch a chalkboard with long nails a hundred times” while you’re at it?

Just hearing that threat made her hair stand on end—it was like a triple combo of pain!

“…Oh.” She nodded obediently. “I understand.”

“You’d better.”

With an indifferent snort, the gray-robed man turned and left, locking the door behind him.

Even after the door closed, Yan Luoyue’s gaze lingered on the sword in his hand.

—She had seen that sword before, in a jade slip’s recorded memory.

Eighty years ago, when Song Qingchi had laughed and called out, “Catch, Senior Brother!” before tossing it from a high pavilion—it was the same three-foot-long sword with a dragon-patterned hilt and a silver-sand scabbard.

Now, that sword was in the gray-robed man’s possession.

Combined with the fact that the mysterious poster of the Life-or-Death Bounty had offered the scabbard from the Sword Dao Grand Assembly as a reward…

Yan Luoyue frowned slightly, deep in thought.

Was this man the deranged Chu Tiankuo? The missing Song Qingchi? Or a third party entirely?

…

Before leaving, the gray-robed man had warned Yan Luoyue not to step out of line.

So she waited—just long enough to confirm no one was outside—then smashed the lock and ran.

—Because his earlier words had practically been an invitation for her to escape.

Threatening a child with “I’ll cut out your heart tomorrow”?

Even if you told a pig, “I’ll slaughter you for meat tomorrow,” if the pig understood, it would bolt from the pen and flee into the wild by nightfall!

Once outside, she found herself in a quiet, elegant garden filled with lush flowering trees—perfect for hiding.

She scanned the surroundings but saw no walls—as if the buildings were nestled within an endless grove.

The wisest move would be to seize this chance and run as far as possible, then seek help from the nearest cultivation sect.

But instead, Yan Luoyue turned back toward the buildings, searching room by room for Ling Shuanghun and Wu Manshuang.

If there was even the slightest chance, she wanted to regroup with her friends first.

The room where she had been held was one of a row of seven or eight identical structures.

Beyond this corridor stood several more rows of similar buildings.

Yan Luoyue worked quickly, pushing open unlocked doors or peering through punctured windows.

“Manshuang? Little Ling?”

“—Luoyue!”

Suddenly, a hushed yet excited cry came from behind Yan Luoyue.

Yan Luoyue whipped her head around to see Wu Manshuang and Ling Shuanghun standing just seven paces away, panting heavily.

The moment the trio reunited, their shared state spoke volumes—after all, they’d all fallen victim to the same scheme.

After a brief exchange, Yan Luoyue learned that the three of them had initially been imprisoned together.

Later, a gray-robed man had taken her away under some pretext, then inexplicably dragged Ling Shuanghun off as well.

Wu Manshuang’s eyes were once again veiled behind a white silk bandage.

“Luoyue, are you hurt?” he asked urgently.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Yan Luoyue curved her eyes into the first genuine smile she’d worn since waking.

Now that they’d regrouped, their next steps became much clearer.

Wu Manshuang was well-versed in formations.

Even with his spiritual power sealed, he could still deduce the function and layout of the array from the faintest clues.

“Don’t run toward the flower grove. It looks open, but it’s actually an illusion—once inside, you’ll be trapped in an endless loop, never reaching the other side.”

Ling Shuanghun pressed, “Then which way do we go?”

“Follow me!”

Wu Manshuang avoided the flower-lined path and, without hesitation, charged straight into a rockery.

The moment he decisively collided with the stone, Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun exchanged a glance, both mentally conjuring the sound of a loud thunk.

Yan Luoyue’s mind even reflexively supplied a rhetorical question:

—Does it sound good? If it sounds good, then it’s a good head.

As it turned out, it didn’t sound good—because there was no sound at all.

Wu Manshuang’s body melted into the rockery as seamlessly as salt dissolving in hot water.

Seeing this, Ling Shuanghun’s eyes lit up, and he followed immediately, with Yan Luoyue right behind him.

As she slipped through, she muttered under her breath, “What is this, the Garden of Nine and Three-Quarters?”

Emerging from the rockery, the trio found themselves in a pavilion overlooking an entirely new scene.

Beyond the pavilion lay a landscape of thorny brambles and ashen mist, with only seven winding paths stretching toward the unknown.

The sky was overcast that day, and in this eerie, unfamiliar fog, the three couldn’t even tell north from south.

For a moment, the air was thick with nothing but damp mist and a tense, restless unease.

With their path uncertain, Wu Manshuang carefully examined their surroundings. “Gen, Dui, Kan, Kan, Zhen… Alright, we take this one!”

Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun acted without hesitation, leaping down the pavilion steps without even asking why.

The three moved in single file—Wu Manshuang at the front, Ling Shuanghun at the rear, and Yan Luoyue safely sandwiched between them.

They sprinted down the path together until the light ahead grew brighter, on the verge of breaking through the mist’s grip—

Wu Manshuang came to an abrupt halt.

At the end of the path stood a figure the color of lifeless ash.

One hand resting on his sword hilt, he stood like a pillar of salt frozen at the end of time, as if he’d been waiting there for eternity.

Yan Luoyue cursed under her breath. “Damn his cookies… This is entrapment.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The ashen man advanced step by step, his unhurried footfalls landing like hammer blows against their hearts.

Behind his iron-gray mask, the man’s thin lips remained an unreadable straight line.

His voice was icy as he countered, “Didn’t I tell you before to be three very well-behaved little guests? Hmm?”