Chapter Seventeen: As Beautiful as the Blossoming Peach

Xiang Cunze, seasoned by countless battles, shifted the momentum of his sword; the blade danced like a dragon and serpent, spiraling around the Bloodthirsty Saber and whirling upward, sending a shower of sparks erupting from Li Jing’s right arm. Flesh and skin burst open, curling back as poisonous smoke swiftly seeped into the wound. If not for Li Jing’s quick left hand, the Bloodthirsty Saber would have flown from his grip. His left arm was useless, a strange itching sensation rapidly spreading through his body. Eyes glinting like a wolf's, he fixed his gaze on Yu Youwei, spat a mouthful of blood, and snarled viciously, “Who would have thought such a young girl could be so cunning? Soon enough, I’ll make you beg for death and deny you even that!”

Xiang Cunze didn’t respond, nor did he press his advantage. His sword tip rested on the ground, unmoving, his grip trembling. The move he’d just executed—“Dance of Dragon and Serpent”—was a spell of the Nascent Soul stage. He had risked damaging his own life force to perform it, expending all his spiritual energy; his meridians were ruptured in many places. He was a bow at the end of its draw, utterly spent.

“Who lives and who dies is still undecided!” Yu Youwei showed no fear, lifting her foot to kick a stone.

Her movements were swift as a startled rabbit. Li Jing’s allies hadn’t had a chance to intervene; only when he was wounded did they react. As the stone hurtled toward him, Li Jing swung his sword, brilliant starlight flaring from the tip, cleaving the stone in two.

Xiang Cunze, catching his breath, struck like a serpent darting from its lair. His swordwork, dark and sinister, conjured a sudden downpour of sword-light, a dense curtain that enveloped Yu Youwei and Ning Mofei.

At that moment, the little Thunder Falcon arrived, cunningly spitting out two thin bolts of lightning that shot toward Yu Tianhao’s eyes, forcing him to dodge away. The Thunder Falcon, relying on its innate skill, chased him relentlessly, sparking bolts again and again at his eyes, as if it instinctively knew that was his only weakness.

This little Thunder Falcon had only hatched a few days prior, yet it ignored the difference in cultivation and even targeted his eyes with uncanny speed. Yu Tianhao was both amazed and furious, roaring in rage.

Within the sword curtain, blood trickled from all seven of Xiang Cunze’s orifices; he could not hold out much longer. Though he had injured Yu Tianhao and, with Yu Youwei’s poison, incapacitated the strongest Li Jing, the remaining black-clad men were not weak. He knew his chances were slim. “I’ll use my ultimate move to stall them,” he said, “You take Brother Ning and break through.”

“Even if you self-destruct, it won’t solve anything. We have to hold out and see if reinforcements arrive.” Yu Youwei released Ning Mofei, brandishing the Soft Azure Frost Sword in one hand and scattering colored poisonous smoke with the other. The smoke transformed into thousands of shimmering threads, mingling with the sword-light as it burst from the curtain. For a moment, the sword curtain bloomed like a dazzling night of fireworks, yet none of the black-clad men noticed the poisonous threads hidden within the light.

They dodged the sword-light, but were defenseless against the creeping poison. One by one, they collapsed. At first, Xiang Cunze thought reinforcements had arrived and laughed, “We’re saved! Reinforcements are here!” His laughter ended in a fit of blood, and at that, his heart relaxed; he slipped into unconsciousness and collapsed, the sword curtain shattering like a bubble.

Poison flooding his veins, paralyzing his heart, Li Jing’s face twisted in fear. Gripping the Bloodthirsty Saber, he shouted with false bravado, “Yu girl, such vicious methods! So much for your family’s claim to honor, resorting to poison like this!”

“Poison Maiden never claimed to be righteous. Li Jing, no need for that bravado. Today, you all die.” Yu Youwei’s voice was soft and slow, a devilish smile lifting her lips as if she were merely commenting on the beauty of flowers or the gentleness of the wind; yet, in the depths of her eyes, a deadly intent flickered.

“You’re the Poison Maiden, Yu Xuanji?” Li Jing asked, startled and uncertain.

“How honored I am, that even the Blood Demon knows my name.” Her smile deepened, a vibrant brilliance lighting her features. The frosty aloofness vanished, replaced by a unique, enchanting allure—like a tree of riotous peach blossoms blooming atop a desolate grave mound, beauty to the extreme, yet tinged with a solitary, commanding presence.

Li Jing’s pupils contracted as he stared at Yu Youwei, who seemed to have transformed before his eyes. He sighed, “Who would have thought, after all my days as the Blood Demon preying on others, I’d end up the prey myself—never realizing that the Poison Maiden who slaughtered the Thirteen Strongholds of Yan Yun was just a delicate-looking girl like you.”

Yu Tianhao, still harried by the Thunder Falcon, was shocked by what he heard. His movements faltered, granting the little Thunder Falcon the perfect opening; a bolt of lightning struck his left eye. With a scream, he clutched his ruined eye and tumbled backward. As fate would have it, he stumbled right into Li Jing, who, mustering the last of his strength, swung the Bloodthirsty Saber in a desperate attack. The blade gleamed, slicing through half of Yu Tianhao’s head as if it were tofu.

At that instant, Yu Youwei, cradling Ning Mofei, drifted out of the saber’s range and, with a swift kick, sent Xiang Cunze flying as well. She twisted in mid-air like a bird changing course, and with a flick of her wrist, hurled the Soft Azure Frost Sword. The blue light arced gracefully, piercing Li Jing’s back and emerging from his chest as she landed with Ning Mofei.

In those moments, the black-clad men’s features began to rot away, paralyzed and voiceless. Ning Mofei, glancing back to witness their agony, buried his face in Yu Youwei’s neck, trembling uncontrollably.

She gently lifted his face; seeing it drained of all color, his thick lashes fluttering as he fought back tears. Remembering that he was little more than a five-year-old child, the harsh words she’d meant to speak melted into a soft sigh. She wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and said gently, “Mofei, now you have to carry Senior Brother Shangguan on your back. We need to find a safe place to hide. You can do this, can’t you?”

Though clearly lacking confidence, Ning Mofei was not a spoiled child. He obediently shouldered the barely-breathing Xiang Cunze and followed Yu Youwei onward.

Ning Mofei had reached the mid-stage of Qi Refining, though he clearly didn’t know how to use it—likely a result of medicinal overindulgence. Less than a hundred li down the road, he squatted at the edge of a thicket and refused to move any farther. “I can’t run anymore. My legs hurt.” His lips pouted, his slanted phoenix eyes brimming with tears, all grievance and misery.

Yu Youwei sighed inwardly, thinking, “What a little demon.” She relented and agreed to rest. She sent Ning Mofei to gather firewood and start a fire, then fed a Blood Mysterium Pill to the unconscious Xiang Cunze before sitting cross-legged by the fire to cultivate. In these dangerous times, she took only a brief moment to recover.

“Madam, I’m hungry.” The moment she opened her eyes, Ning Mofei, like a kitten, nestled up to her. Though taller than she, he insisted on rubbing his face against her chest, making her both amused and shy, her heart fluttering unexpectedly.

“Mofei, have some fasting pills first.” She took out a bottle, glanced at the sky—it was still early. “Let’s rest a bit more, and then we’ll set out again before night falls.”

“You should call me husband—Third Brother said so.” Ning Mofei corrected her with utmost seriousness. Pushing open the fasting pill bottle, he pouted, “I hate these pills. I want meat.”