Chapter 11: “Why Not Follow Me?”

The little fox lay in Yan Zhao’s arms, its tail gently brushing Yan Zhao’s arm in reassurance.

Yan Zhao scooped it up and buried her entire face into the fluffy space between its neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.

Unaccustomed to such intimate gestures, the fox tilted its head away, leaned back, and pushed against Yan Zhao’s shoulder with its small paws, trying to resist.

But the more it pushed, the more enthusiastic Yan Zhao became, even planting two loud kisses on its forehead.

The little fox: “…”

It struggled free from Yan Zhao’s arms, then took the hem of Yan Zhao’s clothes in its teeth and pulled her toward the outside of the stronghold. Its intention was clear.

Just a few steps ahead was the dog hole they had crawled through on their way in.

As thin as Yan Zhao was, she was still an adult. Climbing a tree would cause too much noise; slipping through the dog hole was much faster.

The little fox reluctantly went through it again. This time, it didn’t let Yan Zhao carry it. It took the initiative to run ahead, guiding her to avoid any traps that might get them captured again.

Along the way, they evaded the night-watch bandits, twisting and turning with immense effort until they finally reached the small path leading down the mountain.

But before the fox could breathe a sigh of relief, its fur bristled. It blocked Yan Zhao’s path, preventing her from moving forward.

Yan Zhao also saw the person blocking the way and was forced to stop.

That person stood in the night breeze, the hair across her forehead swaying with the wind, a bow in her hand.

The little fox assumed a defensive posture. Yan Zhao bent down and picked it up.

She looked left and right. There was only one person.

Though alone, the fact that this person could precisely intercept her meant Yan Zhao’s escape was within her expectations.

The unlocked door, the unusually lax guard—all the clues suddenly connected.

Even her escape route was part of this person’s plan.

Yan Zhao tucked the little fox into her pocket and drew the bone knife she carried on her person.

From this person, she felt a pressure she had never experienced even within the sect.

No matter how much Luo Qi or Lin Chao disliked her, they wouldn’t dare to truly kill her.

The world outside the sect was different.

The weak were prey to the strong; only the fittest survived.

She was not confident she could win.

The woman plucked the bowstring. “I’m giving you one last chance to choose.”

Yan Zhao gripped her bone knife, lowering her body into a fighting stance.

“In that case,” the woman drew her bow, sighing softly, “So be it.”

There was no arrow nocked on her bow, yet a swirl of air spiraled, condensing into a pale blue glow shaped like an arrow.

The little fox’s expression jolted with shock.

Yan Zhao’s intuition sensed a hint of danger.

But before she could react further, the little fox leaped from her arms and kicked her hard.

Its tiny frame burst forth with incredible force. Yan Zhao was forced to stumble two steps back. The intangible arrow, released in an instant, flew past her shoulder and struck a tree behind her.

With a loud boom, the bowl-thick young tree snapped and fell.

The fox’s forelimb was grazed by the arrow qi. It slammed to the ground with a thud, tumbling far away, unable to move.

Yan Zhao stood frozen, her throat moving slightly. A buzzing filled her ears, and her back was soaked with cold sweat before she even realized it.

In that split second just now, she had walked right past the Gates of Hell.

The first strike missed, but the woman wasn’t angered. She narrowed her eyes slightly and curled her lips. “Interesting.”

This fox was indeed extraordinary.

Her opponent drew the bow again. A direct confrontation offered no chance of victory. Yan Zhao swiftly scooped up the little fox and leaped sideways down the slope.

Her feet left the ground, her body briefly suspended. Two breaths later, she landed, but the inertia was too great. She failed to keep her footing, falling and tumbling head over heels several times.

The steep slope was high and long. Crushed stones and thorns slashed her cheeks.

She didn’t block them, only shutting her eyes, curling up, and using her arms to barely shield the little beast in her embrace. Halfway down, her back slammed into a tree.

Luckily, Yan Zhao had sturdy bones and sinews. Otherwise, that impact would have forced her internal organs right out.

She rolled all the way to the bottom of the slope. As soon as she finally stopped, she didn’t dare rest. She scrambled up and sprinted deep into the dense forest.

Among the trees, she desperately sought cover. She felt she had run very far, but the path beneath her feet seemed endless.

Suddenly, a whoosh sounded. The arrow qi came from nowhere, abruptly piercing through her body.

~

The little fox awoke from its coma.

Opening its eyes, it found itself locked in a wooden cage, placed on a low table.

Candlelight illuminated the room. It could see it was a bedroom.

Its wounds had been re-treated, fresh gauze wrapped around its arm.

The wound on its belly had torn open again, so painful it couldn’t even draw breath. It truly had no strength, so it drooped its head, curled up weakly, and waited until some strength returned before planning an escape.

The room door creaked open a crack. A figure crept in with light footsteps.

Its ears twitched. Recognizing the footsteps were not Yan Zhao’s, the hope that had momentarily risen in its heart fell once more.

The newcomer walked to the cage. Fingers reached through the gaps in the wood, carefully poking its back. A soft voice called, “Little fox, awake yet? Get up and eat something.”

A sound came from the cage door. It opened, and a small bowl was pushed inside.

The bowl contained cooked, chopped minced meat.

The fox remained curled up, motionless.

If not for the slight rise and fall of its belly proving it was still breathing, Ah Ling would have thought it might be dead.

Ah Ling crouched beside the cage. Seeing the fox’s listless state, she sighed. “The Boss says your injuries aren’t serious, but if you keep following that little thief, it’s a dead end. She can’t protect you.”

The little fox opened its eyes. Under the dim candlelight, its gaze silently swept over Ah Ling’s face, which had turned somewhat somber after she calmed down.

Ah Ling sat cross-legged on the floor before the table, leaning forward to rest on it. She extended a finger, gently toying with the fox’s soft little paw, and patiently persuaded, “Our Boss is actually a very good person. She’s saved many people, saved me too. You’ll know once you’ve stayed in the stronghold for a while.”

The fox turned a deaf ear. It only wanted to know what had happened to Yan Zhao.

It never expected that the mistress of this stronghold was actually a Jianghu Rogue Cultivator.

That female bandit’s archery was superb and divine. Her cultivation base was probably no lower than Body Tempering, and the bow in her hand was a Magical Artifact.

Moreover, in the instant she had drawn her bow and nocked the arrow, it had caught a very familiar aura.

Yan Zhao, carrying it and trying to escape, had jumped off the slope and gotten injured all over. On the way, she had also forcibly taken an arrow. The absolute gap in strength was crushing. No matter how tough Yan Zhao’s physique was, she would be hard-pressed to endure.

As if hearing its thoughts, Ah Ling said, “Don’t worry, that little thief isn’t dead. Our Boss never intended to take her life.”

Voices came from outside, calling Ah Ling away.

“Ah! Got it!” Ah Ling, having failed to get the fox to eat, could only give up. She tied the wooden cage with rope, and before leaving, exhorted the little fox, “If you get hungry, get up and eat.”

After speaking, she stood and left.

The room door closed again. The little fox stood up, reached a paw out, and dragged the knotted rope into the cage. It bit the rope with its teeth and pulled it loose.

The cage door opened easily. Just as it was about to sneak out, the room door opened again.

Its movement froze. Helplessly, it glanced at the half-opened wooden door, released the rope from its mouth, and lay back down.

Feng Jin entered and saw this scene. She let out an amused laugh. “Such a clever little thing. If I had come in a moment later, wouldn’t you have escaped again?”

She walked to the table, her hand moving to open the cage door to scratch the fox’s chin.

The fox bared its teeth.

Feng Jin’s hand paused halfway. She retracted it helplessly. “As smart as you are, you should know that with her meager cultivation, she can’t form a contract with you, nor can she be your Spirit Master.”

“With your aptitude, even if you didn’t meet me today, you’d be targeted by others someday.” The woman patiently reasoned. “That child holds a treasure that invites trouble. Staying with her will only bring her harm. Why not follow me instead?”

The little fox turned its face away. Feng Jin laughed ruefully.

She had been earnestly talking for so long, yet this little creature wouldn’t listen to a single word.

Deciding she might as well stop persuading, she leaned against the table, propping her chin on one hand. “Anyway, as long as that child stays in the stronghold, you won’t be able to leave either. During this time, you just focus on recovering. We can cultivate some feelings on the side.”

The little fox: “…”

Feng Jin pulled the rope off the cage door. Such mortal items were nothing before a Spirit Fox.

She patted the wooden cage and said to the little fox, “She’s badly hurt, resting in the guest room next door. If you’re worried, go see for yourself.”

The little fox came out of the cage and looked up to meet Feng Jin’s smiling eyes, grasping the unspoken implication behind her words.

Nothing in this stronghold escaped this woman’s eyes.

The fox turned its head away, enduring the pain, jumped off the table, and swiftly darted out of the room.

Before leaving, it glanced at the bow hanging on the wall.

Feng Jin remained seated, one hand rhythmically tapping the tabletop. She closed her eyes and waited patiently.

One breath, two breaths…

Creak.

The door opened again. Under the moonlight, a patch of silvery white came in from outside.

She opened her eyes, the corners of her lips curving slightly, pleasure shining in her eyes. “Changed your mind?”

The little fox came before her.

In the next instant, a sword was pressed against her throat.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, then met a pair of aloof eyes.

Brows like distant mountains, cold and clear like the stars in the sky.

Such a beauty should reside in a celestial pavilion, above the mundane world. Out of this world, indeed.

Feng Jin was dazzled by that beauty. A place deep within her heart, never touched before, was struck by a nameless force.

She was abruptly stunned, her former ease and composure gone.

“You…” Her lips moved, but her throat felt dry. Words failed her. “You can transform?”

For a Demon Beast to take human form, it must reach at least the Soul Formation Realm or higher.

Although there were members of the Demon Clan who could assume human shape from birth, they were, without exception, rare bloodlines of the world.

At least within the boundaries of the Tianchen Continent, such a thing had never been heard of.

Ren Qingyue pressed her sword lower.

The sharp blade pressed close against the skin of Feng Jin’s neck, a thin chill spreading.

Ren Qingyue asked her, “That bow on the wall, where did you get it?”

Feng Jin looked into her eyes and answered truthfully, “A gift from a benefactor.”

Ren Qingyue asked again, “The one who guided you onto the path?”

“Correct.”

“In that case, trouble me no more.” Ren Qingyue said in a low voice, “I am the eldest disciple of Immortal Venerable Yuanqing. Even if you do not know me, you should recognize this sword.”

She turned the sword slightly in her hand, letting Feng Jin see the inscription on the guard.

A character “Qing” in seal script.

This sword was given to her by her Shizun several hundred years ago.

If she wasn’t mistaken, that bow should bear the same mark.

It was Shizun’s habit when refining artifacts.

Feng Jin’s eyes suddenly widened, extreme surprise on her face. “So that means… I should call you Senior Sister?”

Ren Qingyue glanced at her indifferently, sheathing her sword. “You only received Shizun’s guidance, never formally entered her tutelage. No need to call me Senior Sister.”

With that, she turned to leave. Her steps paused briefly at the door.

“What happened before is hard to judge as right or wrong. It ends here. If you raise a hand against her again, do not blame my sword for being merciless.”