“I’d never say that again!” Shen Mingzheng tried to defend herself. “Back then, I was just angry…”
“When I went to Ji Xuyun’s place to rescue you, what were you thinking? Bet you’ve forgotten.” Lu Mingyi narrowed her eyes, scoffing. “Decades later, you said, ‘If you hadn’t tangled with that Demon Sect Saintess, why would she target me?'”
Shen Mingzheng’s ruby lips quivered instinctively.
Lu Mingyi accused her of forgetting, yet now every scene flooded back vividly.
Those days of life-and-death camaraderie—how had they become this unrecognizable mess?
Lu Mingyi gazed at the two women she knew so well, drawing a deep breath. The raging emotions surged forth with her words, gradually releasing.
She said: “You abandoned me 180 years ago, watching coldly as I faced peril. What does any of this count for now?!
“Hoping it all vanishes in a puff of smoke? Binding me with righteousness, so I’ll orbit you like before?!”
As she spoke, Lu Mingyi’s fingertip twitched. The lone “Gu Li” on the ground trembled faintly.
“I owed you nothing before, and I sure as hell don’t want this ‘charity’ life now!”
Her words barely fell when the golden immortal sword streaked a blur, landing in her grasp. The blade that had accompanied her for a century hummed ceaselessly—excited, or weeping?
From Gu Li flying to her hand, to its razor edge rushing toward her slender neck—not even a breath passed.
The others hadn’t reacted, frozen in place.
Yet someone moved faster. The silver-white blade, dotted with golden light, failed to sever the fragile throat. Instead, it lodged in a pair of jade-pale hands.
Exquisitely beautiful hands—long fingers, defined knuckles, flawless and smooth.
Lu Mingyi had heard countless praises: their owner was destined a sword cultivator, born with hands made for the sword.
In her youth, she’d secretly compared them to her own. Later, famed across the world, she noted her palms were slightly broader; others said she too had the hands of a natural sword cultivator.
She remembered: like hers, these hands bore a thin callus on the middle fingertip.
But now, those destined sword hands were mercilessly gashed, the blade biting to the bone, blood pouring freely.
Lu Mingyi could feel that the person before her hadn’t mobilized any spiritual power. With just a bit more force, she could sever those hands.
The sudden turn of events caught everyone off guard, and only now did the bystanders react.
Xiao Yuxie’s shrill voice rang out: “Don’t—”
Shen Mingzheng’s voice echoed in Lu Mingyi’s ears: “Lu Mingyi, what are you doing! Stop!”
Someone rushed forward—it was Qi Yinxue: “Master! Lu—Senior Sister Lu, you…”
However, Lu Mingyi didn’t spare them a single glance. The hand gripping Gu Li tensed, veins bulging faintly.
Her voice grew even tighter as she stared at the woman inches away, whose long brows furrowed slightly, though she didn’t dare meet her eyes. Lu Mingyi sneered: “What am I doing? Didn’t you want me dead? Now I’m offering myself up, so why stop me?”
“Could it be… you’ve ‘suddenly come to your senses’ too, Jiang Liuzhao?”
Though Jiang Liuzhao’s cultivation had regressed, she remained at Cavern Void Peak level. The rainwater couldn’t touch her body at all.
But at this moment, raindrops slid continuously down her face, carved like cold jade. Her long lashes trembled dramatically from Lu Mingyi’s words.
She slowly raised her eyes. Those usually unfathomable depths now shimmered with wavering light.
The foremost figure of the righteous path, the Long Rainbow Sword Venerable who had always stood at the pinnacle, adored by all—now laid bare her helplessness so clearly.
She knew she had no other choice. Her thin lips parted, and she murmured lowly: “Don’t do this.”
But those words only made Lu Mingyi find it more laughable.
“Who do you think you are? And what right do you have to say that to me now?
“You wanted me dead so badly back then that you were ready to do it yourself. What are you doing here now, putting on this hypocritical act!”
As Lu Mingyi confronted Jiang Liuzhao, someone tried to sneak up behind her to knock her out.
But the moment that person reached her back, an invisible pressure forced a muffled grunt from them, and they collapsed to the ground.
“Lu Mingyi!” Jiang Liuzhao’s expression shifted slightly, her bloodied hands twitching.
“Get lost!” Lu Mingyi’s grip on Gu Li moved as well.
Gu Li was a heaven-grade immortal sword, incomparably sharp. With Jiang Liuzhao using no spiritual power at all, in that short time, the blade pressed deeper into her palm bone. The bone-piercing pain paled her face.
A tremendous pressure radiated from between them, but it clearly wasn’t Jiang Liuzhao’s—it was an irresistible, indiscriminate force of assault.
“Urgh—”
“Cough cough!”
Most of those present were wounded, with Xiao Yuxie and Shen Mingzheng hit the hardest. Fresh blood bloomed across their chests.
Jiang Liuzhao’s face grew ever paler, but she could still stand. She didn’t dare loosen her grip on the sword blade even slightly.
Seeing this, Lu Mingyi tried to move Gu Li again.
But mere breaths after the pressure released, her vision went black. A familiar sandalwood scent mingled with thick water vapor enveloped her, the last remnant before her consciousness faded.
When Lu Mingyi opened her eyes again, she found herself lying on a soft bed. The room was dimly lit, and rain and wind howled outside the window.
Still raining. Looks like I wasn’t out for long.
Her mind slowly churned. Recalling the scene before she passed out, she bolted upright, unsure why she’d fainted.
But when she saw the figure sitting by her bed, the haze from her unconsciousness brought waves of stabbing pain to her head.
Jiang Liuzhao still wore her white robe embroidered with golden Taiqing Sect patterns, perched on a stool by the bed. The dim light cast shadows across her stunning face.
She simply watched Lu Mingyi, as if she’d been waiting here for quite some time.
Unfortunately, she was the last person Lu Mingyi wanted to see right now.
“What are you doing here? Afraid I’ll kill myself?”
Vigilance filled Lu Mingyi’s eyes. She quickly scanned the room, confirming she was in some inn or cultivator’s residence. Her Billowing Waves and Storage Ring were still there, but the Gu Li she’d held before fainting was gone.
Jiang Liuzhao noticed Lu Mingyi’s suspicious, distrustful movements and gaze. Her breath hitched for a moment.
Finally, her voice came out hoarse: “You don’t need to feel burdened. Yuxie knows her mistakes… She did those things willingly.
“And there will soon be a way to deal with Junior Sister Shen’s Spirit-Devouring Gu.”
Hearing this, Lu Mingyi froze, silent for a moment before saying: “Is that what you came here to say?”
Jiang Liuzhao pressed her lips together and looked away: “I hope you won’t let it trouble you.”
“Hah, the Long Rainbow Sword Venerable sees through everything so clearly!”
Lu Mingyi laughed a few times. Lowering her gaze, she noticed Jiang Liuzhao’s hands wrapped in bandages. Realizing she hadn’t used spiritual power to heal them instantly, she felt even more mocking: “Do you think that as long as you find a suitable excuse, people’s emotions can just change on a dime?”
Jiang Liuzhao’s eyes trembled slightly: “No, I never meant that…”
“You said it was for the sake of the world’s people, so even after I studied under you for a century, you could kill me without hesitation. Now you say what Xiao Yuxie and Shen Mingzheng did was justified, so I shouldn’t worry about it?”
Lu Mingyi spread her hands, mocking the woman whose calm facade cracked faintly. She arched a brow: “A hundred and eighty years ago, you wanted to kill me because of the Five-Colored Stone on me. So what now? I’ve got the Five-Colored Stone again—shouldn’t you kill me once more? Why did you stop me earlier?”
Those words shattered the composure on Jiang Liuzhao’s face. Her long brows furrowed, and she said urgently: “I didn’t kill you. Back then, it was…”
“Is the Long Rainbow Sword Venerable deceiving herself now too?! Didn’t you already admit in the Seclusion Chamber that you harbored killing intent toward me? After I died, you even refused Guan Du’s request to investigate my death! Were you afraid the world would find out you killed your own disciple?!”
Lu Mingyi’s brows and eyes grew icier. Though seated on the bed, her aura completely suppressed Jiang Liuzhao, leaving her immobile.
Jiang Liuzhao’s brows furrowed tighter. Hearing Lu Mingyi mention her death in her previous life brought more pain to her eyes: “Little Deer, it wasn’t me. I would never lay a hand on you.”
That familiar, distant form of address was invoked again. Both fell silent for a moment.
Then Lu Mingyi laughed again: “You say it wasn’t you—who was it, then? Jiang Liuzhao, it’s been a hundred and eighty years, and you’re still saying nothing?
“Or has the radiant and impeccable Sword Venerable finally learned the value of the Five-Colored Stone? Starting to sweet-talk me now to get it?”
Her radiant face curved into that smile—a sight that should have been utterly alluring. Yet those upturned eyes completely ensnared Jiang Liuzhao.
The overwhelming pressure that followed made even this Long Rainbow Sword Venerable, unflappable in any grand occasion, instinctively hold her breath.
In terms of age, cultivation, or current state, Jiang Liuzhao should have surpassed Lu Mingyi. Yet now, she felt utterly under her control, every breath cautious and careful.
Suddenly, Jiang Liuzhao’s throat felt very itchy.
