In the blink of an eye, Song Xizhi moved.
Countless threads suddenly appeared in his hands.
Skill Card Activated
Plain Silk: Lethal Stragulation. Wherever there is air, it is my domain. In Qiu Tong’s perception, the air twisted in an instant, saturated with killing intent. Her face, neck, hands, feet… her entire body felt a sharp, piercing chill! One move, and this chill could tear her to shreds!
No, it wasn’t a chill!
Thud!
A massive man weighing over a hundred pounds slammed into the ground. With a thunderous crash, his head was severed from his neck, his body shattered into pieces as blood sprayed everywhere! The blade in the man’s hand flew out, grazing Song Xizhi’s neck before falling. A hair’s breadth from success, yet a total failure.
Only then did Qiu Tong see clearly what the “chill” she had sensed was! They were dense, transparent silk threads spread through the air, sharper than any blade. There were no complex moves; when the master pulled these threads, the prey was simply and brutally dismembered. No matter how clever one’s lightness skill, none could escape this inescapable web.
So powerful! So bloody!
Qiu Tong’s jaw dropped as she gasped. The masked men’s hair stood on end, their teeth chattering in terror. Looking at him as if seeing a demon, they scrambled to run with every ounce of strength they had.
Qiu Tong’s eyes widened. She saw the fleeing men suddenly freeze, the fear in their eyes congealing as time seemed to stop!
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Like falling dominoes, their bodies collapsed one after another, and then—they were violently torn apart! Blood erupted like fountains!
Clatter! A head rolled to Qiu Tong’s feet, its eyes glaring at her. Even in death, he hadn’t understood how he had died. Qiu Tong was horrified!
Song Xizhi looked at Qiu Tong and smiled slightly. “Your lightness skill is quite good.” His tone wasn’t one of praise; he was simply stating a fact.
Qiu Tong smiled bitterly—those whose lightness skills were even better than hers had just died. She glanced at the ring of corpses piled on the ground.
Song Xizhi walked ahead, his tall, slender figure and porcelain skin glowing. His wide robes billowed in the wind against his frail frame, making a loud rustling sound. Yet, in Qiu Tong’s eyes, this weak-looking man was no different from a devil.
Sweat poured down Qiu Tong’s face as the bloody scenes flashed through her mind like a muddled mess. Her legs felt like overcooked noodles in soup—soft and collapsing.
Song Xizhi was watching her with a faint gaze. His crimson lips were startlingly beautiful. His long hair fluttered in the wind, masking his face in disarray. Those eyes were pitch black, like a still ancient well, containing a cold indifference that disregarded everything. A bizarre and overwhelming aura surged toward Qiu Tong like a tide.
That single glance made Qiu Tong break into a cold sweat. She knew he was playing a psychological game and that she had to calm down to survive. But she couldn’t suppress the terror in her heart. After witnessing that scene, whenever she looked at Song Xizhi, the pungent smell of blood seemed to waft past her nose. She couldn’t stop trembling.
Ordinary people cannot help but fear an evil spirit. Looking at the beautiful yet sinister man before her, Qiu Tong took a deep breath and cried, “Eldest Miss, have mercy!”
Song Xizhi smoothed the wrinkles on his collar. His long fingers and nails were neatly trimmed and clean. Long fingers, distinct knuckles—such hands were suited for playing the zither, not for being stained with blood.
Song Xizhi smiled, but his eyes were cold and pitch black. “Now that you have seen things you shouldn’t know, give me a reason not to kill you.”
Qiu Tong swallowed hard, her throat painfully dry. “Eldest Miss, please judge fairly! This servant is loyal to you and has no second heart!”
Thud!
Qiu Tong’s knees gave way, and she fell directly to the ground. She kowtowed three times—bang, bang, bang! Each strike was forceful and resonant. “This servant swears to the Heavens! If I leak even half a word, may I die a horrible death and be reborn into the animal realm in my next life!” Blood slid from her forehead to the ground, a shocking sight.
Song Xizhi’s palm curved slightly like a cage. He said dismissively, “Tsk, I never believe in oaths. They’re too hollow.” He half-closed his eyes, toying with the silk threads in his hand as they shifted into thousands of shapes. He tilted his head, his lips as dazzlingly vivid as the patterns on a venomous snake. “You must give me something in exchange, you know? Think carefully.”
What could she trade? Qiu Tong’s mind raced. What did she have that could move Song Xizhi? Beauty? Her looks were nothing compared to his. Wealth or status? She had none.
What about… longevity? Qiu Tong’s eyes lit up. Song Xizhi had been seriously ill since childhood and was destined to die young. Yet such a person practiced martial arts so diligently—how could he be willing to submit to fate? He wanted to live!
Qiu Tong licked her dry lips and said, “This servant has a way to cure the Miss’s illness.”
“Oh?” Song Xizhi’s smile was enigmatic. Things were truly getting interesting.
Qiu Tong added hurriedly, “I have medicine.” Fearing he wouldn’t believe her, she pulled a porcelain bottle from her robe—white jade glaze with a hand-painted ink orchid that looked lifelike.
Song Xizhi took it and examined it. Below him, Qiu Tong seemed to have regained some confidence. “I believe the Eldest Miss has heard of the Clear Breeze Jade Dew Pill.”
“I have.”
A hint of pride appeared in Qiu Tong’s eyes. “This pill is formed by gathering the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth. The ingredients are all precious; the thousand-year lingzhi alone is a world rarity. Aside from the ingredients, the production method is extremely complex and has long been lost.”
Song Xizhi glanced at her and pulled the stopper. A refreshing fragrance wafted out, instantly invigorating his spirit. “You said just now that you are loyal to me?” He emphasized the last few words as if savoring them.
“Yes! I have even offered such a peerless treasure to the Eldest Miss. Is that not enough to prove my loyalty?”
Song Xizhi smiled slightly and whispered, “Perhaps you should first remove your human-skin mask and let me see your true face, shouldn’t you?”
Schwing!
Qiu Tong lunged. Her sword unsheathed like a thunderbolt—fast, direct, and violent. There was no escaping it! It looked simple, but at close range, she had killed dozens of opponents several times stronger than her with this single strike. The blade flew straight for the center of his brow! Almost there!
Triumph flared in Qiu Tong’s eyes. But the joy was cut short.
“It’s over,” Song Xizhi said softly.
The moment the words fell, silk threads sliced through the air, kicking up dust and stone.
Boom! Qiu Tong was sent flying several meters back. As she crawled on the ground, she discovered the floor was covered in terrifying cracks. She touched her neck—a sticky sensation. Blood.
She finally understood what he meant by “It’s over.” In Song Xizhi’s eyes, her every move was nothing more than a circus act. Qiu Tong’s face turned ashen.
As if he had watched a magnificent performance, Song Xizhi rubbed his chin and appraised her: “Your lightness skill is truly beautiful. Now I am even more curious about what you look like.”
Touching her wound, Qiu Tong could only smile bitterly. With her neck already bleeding, what else could she do? She had to admit defeat.
Rip—
The human-skin mask was torn away, revealing an elegant face. Because she had worn the mask for years and hadn’t seen the sun, her skin was unnaturally pale. Yet this pallor didn’t diminish her beauty; instead, it merged perfectly with her, becoming a defining trait. Like a weak willow in the wind or the moon reflected in still water—willow-leaf brows and a hint of sorrow in her eyes. Such a beauty could make men willing to go through fire and water for her with a single frown.
Song Xizhi glanced at the mask and said nonchalantly, “With such a face, you should show it for others to appreciate. It’s a waste to hide it. Isn’t that right, Leng Huaping?”
The world knew the Divine Physician Luo Qingfeng had transcendent skills, but they didn’t know he had a younger martial sister. Moreover, her talent in medicine was no weaker than his, but her specialty was different. She excelled in disguises and poison; she was better suited for killing than saving.
Hearing Song Xizhi call her name, Leng Huaping was stunned, her heart sinking. He even knew such hidden secrets. “I’ve worn the mask for so long, I’m used to it.” If she took it off and her enemies found her, that would be stupid!
She looked at Song Xizhi’s face, a flash of fervor in her eyes. “Besides, with the Eldest Miss’s brilliance before me, my bit of color is nothing.”
Song Xizhi’s hand traced his own eyes, his high nose bridge, and then his lips. His voice was cool: “You… want my face?”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
I wouldn’t dare meant I want it.
Song Xizhi stood and walked down. His thin lips were almost pressed against her ear, the distance so close he could let out a soft sigh. His cool breath drifted through the lonely night. He laughed eerily: “Sensible people always live longer. Let’s return to the Prime Minister’s Manor.”
“But the carriage is broken.” Leng Huaping pointed to the dead horse and the wreckage.
“Don’t you know lightness skills?” Song Xizhi naturally wouldn’t say he didn’t. He glanced at her. “Use your lightness skill to carry me back.”
Leng Huaping felt a bit aggrieved. Using her level of skill just to travel was a waste of talent. She thought: Song Xizhi has such good martial arts, yet he wants me to carry him. He’s really treating me like a tool…
Despite her internal complaints, she said with a beaming smile, “Of course, Miss.”
Her skill was indeed excellent. They hurried and finally made it back to the manor before the gates closed. Song Xizhi smiled; being carried while flying felt good. However, the smile froze when they reached the manor…
That was…