Her arms encircled the youth’s slender yet powerful waist…
Lu Qingtang grew wary as she looked ahead, seeing only an expanse of white mist with no sign of the formation’s core emerging.
Jiang Xunbai halted, snatched a Fu Zhi (Talisman Paper), and flung it into the dense fog. Countless golden rays instantly erupted from the paper, dyeing the surrounding mist yellow. His tall figure shielded her, and in the next moment, an even more blinding light burst forth from the front. Fortunately, Jiang Xunbai blocked most of its intensity.
Twelve Buddhist beads flew from Jiang Xunbai’s wrist, shooting toward twelve different directions. A youthful voice, clear as a mountain stream, abruptly sounded beside her ear: “Break!”
Endless golden light exploded outward, radiating from all directions. Jiang Xunbai could not block it entirely, and the glare pierced Lu Qingtang’s eyes, forcing her to instinctively shut them.
A tremor rose from the ground, growing steadily closer until the earth shook and the mountains quaked, as if heaven and earth were collapsing. When Lu Qingtang opened her eyes, the white mist before her had vanished without a trace, replaced by an eerie pink haze. Before she could react, the ground beneath her feet gave way, disappearing into nothingness.
“Ahhh—!”
Lu Qingtang screamed, feeling herself plummet at terrifying speed. The surroundings were pitch-dark, with scarce light, and the wind howled in her ears. She flailed her arms, trying to slow her descent, but it was futile.
Boundless despair surged within her. Terrified, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the fall.
Suddenly, a cold hand grasped her wrist, sending a chill through her. Lu Qingtang’s eyes snapped open. In the dim light, she saw the black-clad youth beside her, silently holding her wrist. When their eyes met, a faint smile touched his otherwise expressionless face.
Tears welled in Lu Qingtang’s sore eyes and spilled over. Without a second thought, she threw her arms around Jiang Xunbai.
As her hands wrapped around his lean, sturdy waist, his body stiffened momentarily.
But the next instant, broken, muffled sobs escaped from the girl buried against his chest. She clung to him desperately, as if he were her last lifeline. Her cries shifted from suppressed to unrestrained, tears streaming endlessly, soaking his robes.
Yet, instead of irritation, a dull ache slowly spread through Jiang Xunbai’s heart, making him frown unconsciously. His hand moved from her wrist to her shoulder, and as if guided by some unseen force, he gently patted her back. His voice was softer than ever before: “Don’t cry… It’ll be alright…”
Lu Qingtang didn’t know how long she wept. By the time her senses gradually returned, they still hadn’t landed. Buried in Jiang Xunbai’s embrace, she suddenly caught a faint, unfamiliar fragrance—sweet and refreshing. Her face flushed crimson, but thankfully, the dim light hid it from Jiang Xunbai’s notice.
As soon as Lu Qingtang loosened her grip on his waist, their descent abruptly accelerated. Startled, she instinctively tightened her hold on Jiang Xunbai.
Jiang Xunbai’s voice carried a hint of amusement, yet it inexplicably calmed Lu Qingtang’s racing heart: “If you’re afraid, you may close your eyes.”
Lu Qingtang complied. She only felt Jiang Xunbai’s arm tighten around her shoulders, and then the howling wind in her ears gradually faded. When they finally landed, she felt no pain at all—only to hear a muffled grunt from the young man. Her eyes flew open to discover Jiang Xunbai had somehow shifted positions with her mid-fall, now cushioning her impact as she lay atop him.
No wonder it didn’t hurt—with Jiang Xunbai as her landing pad, how could she possibly feel any pain?
“Jiang Xunbai, are you alright?!” Qing-Tang urgently asked.
Jiang Xunbai’s peach-blossom eyes shimmered with liquid light as he chuckled softly: “It might help if Miss Lu would kindly get off me first.”
Only then did Qing-Tang remember to scramble off him. Blushing, she helped him up while stammering: “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to… and thank you, for saving me again.”
“Miss Lu’s gratitude shames me,” Jiang Xunbai replied. “Had it not been for me, you wouldn’t have fallen into this place.”
This finally gave Qing-Tang the chance to voice her confusion: “Where is this? Why did we land here?”
“My disruption of the formation triggered a chain reaction. We’re trapped in a space-time rift.”
For some reason, Qing-Tang felt Jiang Xunbai’s voice sounded different than usual.
“Can we go back?”
“Yes, but we’ll have to wait.”
By the faint glow emanating from an unknown source, Qing-Tang surveyed their surroundings. At the center lay a vast lake sparkling under the dim light as if stars had fallen into its waters. Strange plants unlike any earthly flora grew along the shores, while tiny insects flitted through the air, shedding pale blue phosphorescence from their wings in a mesmerizing display.
Qing-Tang studied the peculiar scenery with growing curiosity. The longer she looked, the more familiar it seemed—as if she’d seen such a landscape somewhere before, though the memory remained stubbornly elusive.
Jiang Xunbai moved with urgent purpose, barely glancing at their surroundings. Qing-Tang gathered her skirts and followed him to a cave he’d located. The cavern was compact, featuring a flat stone slab that could easily serve as a bed. After scanning the cave’s interior, Qing-Tang turned toward Jiang Xunbai at the entrance—just in time to see golden light shimmering at his fingertips. The glow swept across his palm, leaving a blood trail in its wake. He pressed his bleeding hand against the cave entrance, instantly conjuring a pale golden Barrier adorned with shimmering sigils.
“This place is fraught with danger,” he explained. “We don’t know what might be lurking about. I’ve set up a formation here—nothing should approach the cave for now.”
As he spoke, he retrieved tinder from his storage bag and kindled a fire in the cave.
Qing-Tang never got to ask what exactly they were waiting for, but judging by his preparations, they’d be staying in this cave for some time.
Seated by the fire, Qing-Tang watched Jiang Xunbai resting against the opposite wall with closed eyes. A shadow of melancholy she’d never seen before darkened his features.
“Jiang Xunbai,” she ventured with concern, “are you truly alright?”
His eyes remained closed, but his voice carried its usual amusement: “Of course I am.”
He took out some food from his storage bag and laid it on the ground, saying, “Miss Lu, pick something to eat yourself. After you finish, you can sleep on the stone bed. The conditions are poor, but it’s better than nothing.”
From the moment he took out the food until he spoke these words, he never opened his eyes. Lu Qingtang grew suspicious, thinking he might have injured his eyes, but he had been keeping them open earlier—only after entering the cave did he close them. Could there be something wrong with this cave?
But since Jiang Xunbai didn’t mention it, she felt it inappropriate to ask.
Lu Qingtang let her thoughts wander as she went over to pick some food. After eating, she lay down on the stone bed to rest with her eyes closed. Initially, she only intended to rest briefly, keeping a part of her attention alert to avoid falling completely asleep. However, she had walked for a long time within the formation and was utterly exhausted, compounded by fear and anxiety. Now, relaxing in Jiang Xunbai’s presence, she fell into a deep slumber.
Jiang Yijie walked through the vast white mist, the surroundings so quiet one could hear a pin drop, yet his heart was in turmoil, bubbling like a pot of boiling water.
Where was A-Yao?
This formation was bizarre beyond measure—how could he rest easy?
He didn’t know how long he had been walking or searching until a sudden earthquake-like tremor shook the ground. He looked in the direction of the vibration, his heart leaping with joy—A-Xun had indeed found the formation’s core.
After the tremors subsided, the white mist gradually dispersed. In the distance, he saw a golden light shimmering as Jiang Xunbai’s twelve Buddhist beads detached from his wrist and flew off in all directions.
Just then, a loud roar echoed from the opposite direction. Without hesitation, Jiang Yijie sprinted toward it.
As he drew closer, he saw a massive vine demon emerging from the ground, countless tendrils writhing menacingly in the air. At the tips of those vines stood a woman in red—
Her red robes fluttered like flames, her black hair cascaded like a waterfall, and the whip in her hand lengthened section by section, glowing with a blood-red light. Who else could it be but Su Lingyao?
Jiang Yijie’s heart clenched. “A-Yao!” he called out, then summoned his treasured sword and leaped into the air, joining the battle against the vine demon.
Spiritual power and demon power intertwined chaotically. Jiang Yijie and Su Lingyao had fought side by side countless times, surviving life-and-death situations together, and had developed an astonishing tacit understanding through constant adjustment. Working in tandem, they barely managed to hold their own against the vine demon. Just as they successfully vanquished it and Jiang Yijie moved to collect its Yao Dan (Demon Core), the residual demon power coalesced into a sharp blade, shooting straight toward him. In that split second, Su Lingyao stepped in to block the strike for him.
She immediately spat blood and collapsed to her knees.
By then, the formation had dissipated, and everything returned to calm. Before them lay only the ruins, but there was no trace of Jiang Xunbai or Lu Qingtang anywhere.
With Su Lingyao severely injured, Jiang Yijie had no choice but to take her back to Lu Manor first. By the time he carried her back, dusk had fallen, and a jade-plate-like moon hung brightly in the sky.
Seeing the full, radiant moon, a sense of foreboding flashed through Jiang Yijie’s mind—time moved slowly within the formation, and they had been trapped for several days. Today was already the fifteenth of June.
“This is bad—it’s the night of the full moon. A-Xun is in danger!”
Lu Qingtang slept restlessly, drifting in and out of nightmares. One moment, she dreamed of being trapped and strangled by the vine demon; the next, she dreamed of falling into an abyss, plummeting to her death.
When she jolted awake from the nightmare, her back was already drenched in cold sweat. The fire in the cave still burned brightly. Lu Qingtang touched the black cloak that had been draped over her at some unknown time, then sat up and glanced at Jiang Xunbai.
She saw him leaning against the cave wall. Through the firelight, Lu Qingtang noticed a glistening layer of sweat beading on his forehead. Worried, she quietly approached him to check if he was ill.
Before her hand could touch his forehead, he abruptly seized her wrist and pulled her into his embrace. His grip was forceful, his body temperature frighteningly low—Lu Qingtang felt as if she were pressed against a block of ice.
Then, Jiang Xunbai slowly opened his eyes. The moment Lu Qingtang met his gaze, she couldn’t suppress a gasp—
His pupils were an almost transparent white.