The sky was darkening, the cold wind was biting, and danger lurked on every side.
Shen Qinghe had originally planned to wait where she was for her brother to find her—the jade pendant had a tracking function, and her brother could sense her location.
But she was afraid her brother would arrive too quickly and still have time to deal with that pair of dogs and bitches. She walked in another direction, praying she’d run into a rogue cultivator.
If she were within the Azure Profound Sect, no one would dare go against her brother. But in a secret realm, the one thing never in short supply was rogue cultivators who would stop at nothing for medicinal pills and spiritual power. She could find someone reliable enough to help.
Just as she was thinking this, she arrived before a bamboo grove. The birds in the forest seemed startled, flying out in great flocks.
Dead leaves covered the ground, and the few patches of exposed earth were pitch black. The bamboo was also dark in color, as if it had just gone through a fire, leaving behind only charred husks.
Shen Qinghe didn’t find anything unusual about it. The cultivation world was vast and full of wonders—she figured the bamboo grove in the secret realm was simply designed to look eerie and intimidating on purpose.
She hadn’t walked much further when she spotted a black-robed, masked youth holding a sword, kneeling on one knee with sword wounds covering his body.
Only his eyes were visible—pupils of the deepest ink black, long lashes thick and straight, casting faint shadows when lowered. When his gaze shifted, it carried the aloofness and coldness of a cultivator.
One word popped into Shen Qinghe’s mind: handsome! Cool!
The wind had been bitingly cold, but suddenly she no longer felt it. She couldn’t help but move closer to him, walking right up to his face.
“Excuse me, are you Young Master Li Zhu?”
In an instant, the warmth around her deepened, baking her perpetually cold body into a cozy warmth.
Lizhu looked her up and down, a trace of surprise flickering in his icy eyes. “Still alive?”
Shen Qinghe instinctively nodded, then looked around and noticed several pools of blood on the ground.
No need to ask—Young Master Li Zhu must have just gone through a brutal battle and was severely wounded.
She had heard of the legendary Young Master Li Zhu—a sword cultivator of extraordinary talent and a pure Dao heart, dedicated to punishing evil and rewarding good, with the goal of slaying every demonic cultivator in the world. And Young Master Li Zhu’s appearance matched the man before her exactly: black robes, white hair, masked. This was also to avoid drawing attention and to keep his true identity hidden.
Moreover, it was said that Young Master Li Zhu had also entered this secret realm, and had never been seen again afterward. Many people claimed that Li Zhu had met with misfortune here and quietly fallen—which matched this man’s situation perfectly.
So he must be Young Master Li Zhu.
With that thought, Shen Qinghe broke into a wide smile. “I can get you out of here, but you have to promise me one thing.”
A flicker of mockery passed through Lizhu’s eyes.
Human greed had no limits.
The lips beneath the mask curled up slightly. “Fine.”
The next second, the mask fell to the ground.
The girl untied the mask’s cords, and a pale, handsome face appeared before her without warning.
“Not bad looking. Passes the test.” The girl muttered to herself.
Lizhu’s gaze turned cold. A wisp of black qi condensed in his palm in an instant, silently hovering behind the girl’s head, forming into a black needle about to pierce through her skull.
The corners of Lizhu’s lips slowly curved upward.
Suddenly, another medicinal pill was pushed between his lips—it dissolved upon contact, and its surging medicinal power spread through him, rapidly repairing the injuries within his body.
Lizhu’s eyes widened in astonishment. This was actually a Purple Cloud Pill of Ten Thousand Longevities—capable of bringing the dead back to life, and with repeated use, extending one’s lifespan by a hundred years. A single one would drive cultivators across the world into a frenzy of competition.
“But this is a fine pill, isn’t it? I have plenty more—take them all, consider it a token of my sincerity.” The girl generously pressed the small bottle into his hand.
Lizhu watched the black thorns at the back of her head dissolve into mist, then said in a low voice, “What do you want?”
“Let’s talk once we’re out of here—it’s a bit hot in this place.” The girl wiped the sweat beading at her brow. It was too hot; she felt as if her Spiritual Power had evaporated entirely.
“Do you need me to help you up?”
“No need.”
The young man slowly rose to his feet, leaning on the black sword.
Just then, sounds came from not far away.
Shen Qinghe’s eyes lit up. Perfect—it might be her brother’s people coming to find her!
She’d been feeling a bit guilty, but now that she had someone to work with, she wasn’t afraid at all!
She skipped over cheerfully, only to be met by several black-robed figures, their bodies radiating Demonic Qi so thick it felt almost tangible. Half their faces were hidden beneath their hoods, their eyes glowing crimson.
Shen Qinghe halted mid-step, her expression souring. She’d run into Demonic Cultivators.
“Heh heh, a top-grade Cultivation Vessel! She’s mine!”
“I want a piece too—don’t any of you dare fight me for her!”
The group charged at her all at once.
Lizhu leaned against the black bamboo, his posture relaxed, a faint smile even curling on his pale face.
Suddenly, the girl spun around and said to him with confidence, “Don’t worry—I’ll definitely get you out of here safe!”
The girl was only at the Golden Core Stage, and clearly her cultivation had been built up by swallowing pills, her foundation unstable. There was no way she could defeat people at the Nascent Soul Stage.
Her fate would be to become a Cultivation Vessel, drained dry of her vital essence by the Demonic Cultivators until she died.
So Lizhu didn’t care at all whether she could see his true face—because there was no way she was walking out of here alive.
As the Demonic Cultivators closed in, a blinding burst of Spiritual Power suddenly erupted from the girl, blasting them all back on the spot.
Lizhu’s expression shifted slightly.
The Demonic Cultivators exclaimed in shock, “That’s the Xuantian Heart-Protecting Mirror! How do you possess such a Magic Treasure?!”
Shen Qinghe raised her chin proudly. “My brother gave it to me. Even if a Spirit Severing Stage Demonic Cultivator came at me, they couldn’t lay a finger on me. I suggest you scurry off now, or whatever force you use against me will be reflected right back at you.”
The Xuantian Heart-Protecting Mirror was a treasure comparable to a Divine Weapon that Shen Qingci had acquired by chance—which was exactly why he felt comfortable letting her run wild through the Secret Realm.
When not in use, the mirror concealed itself around her heart. The moment anyone tried to harm her, it would immediately protect its master.
In her past life, she’d relied on the mirror to leave the Secret Realm safely.
Unfortunately, when she later died of illness, her brother gave the mirror to Su Wanqing, where it became Su Wanqing’s Life-Bound Magic Treasure, helping the male and female leads evade countless enemies hunting them.
Now she had to protect both the mirror and herself—she absolutely couldn’t give the female lead any opening.
The next second, Shen Qinghe watched as a crack appeared on the supposedly indestructible mirror.
A mirror that could withstand Spirit Severing Stage attacks was shattering—from a few Nascent Soul Stage attacks?
Shattered!
In her past life, this mirror hadn’t suffered a single scratch even at the very end.
The mirror’s glow faded in an instant, and the Demonic Cultivators who had been about to give up suddenly had their eyes light up.
“Hahaha, even heaven isn’t on your side. The mirror’s broken—this lord advises you to surrender at once.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. I won’t let you suffer for long.”
“I’ve never tasted the flavor of a Cultivation Vessel with Pure Yin Essence—she’s sure to boost our cultivation levels greatly.”
Shen Qinghe’s face turned pale as she stepped backward.
The black aura gathering in Lizhu’s palm quietly dissipated, his expression cold as he watched her panic and helplessness, as if he were merely a passerby standing on the sidelines.
Shen Qinghe: “Run!”
Lizhu let out a light scoff, waiting for the foolish to make their useless struggles.
Shen Qinghe started running, and as she passed Lizhu, she grabbed his hand.
“Don’t give up—let’s run together!”