Chapter 38: The Nine Palaces Formation Part 2

With the southwest position occupied, the hidden weapons would fall like a torrential rain. If Sang Chencao didn’t wake up now, she would surely die.

Feng Yun’ai bit her lip as she watched. For a moment, her resolve wavered. Feng Rong had never taught her to disregard another’s life, and now…

She seemed too cruel.

The person on the horse suddenly turned her head. There was no confusion on her face, no sign of someone who had just regained their senses.

Sang Chencao’s gaze was clear, her eyes smiling with the cunning of a snake.

Feng Yun’ai froze. This woman hadn’t been entranced at all. Had she been faking it?

Why play along? Just to see how I would react?

Anger flared in Feng Yun’ai’s heart. She felt toyed with yet again. Seeing the other woman skillfully dodge the rain of hidden weapons, she turned and leaped toward the northeast without another thought.

A voice drifted from behind her.

“Go on then, Xiuxiu. I’ll cover the rear for you. Seeing you safe brings peace to my heart.”

Her tone was slow and melodic, utterly pretentious. She was definitely saying it on purpose.

With those words, the last of Feng Yun’ai’s hesitation vanished, replaced by a cold, empty silence.

“Still not leaving? Could it be you can’t bear to part with me? Just go. Don’t go missing me once you’re gone.”

Sang Chencao let out a soft chuckle.

Feng Yun’ai gritted her teeth and departed without looking back.

Now!

A surge of qi approached her like a tidal wave, sending sand and stone flying into her face.

Feng Yun’ai drew her inner strength to cleave through the violent current. Her plain robes were shredded into ribbons, a testament to the wind’s ferocity.

Leaping out of the formation, the rustling of the forest suddenly faded into a silence so profound it felt like she had gone deaf.

In that momentary pause, Feng Yun’ai looked up at the sky.

Light filtered through the dense canopy. The sky was a faint, tranquil blue. It was so peaceful.

But it was all an illusion. Besides the Chuanyun Sect, there were certainly other sects lurking in the shadows.

Recalling Sang Chencao’s mockery, Feng Yun’ai felt the woman wouldn’t die so easily. Someone like Sang Chencao took pleasure in kicking people while they were down and using others for amusement. She often struck when others were off-guard. She surely had a way to break the formation; her act of being trapped was likely just for fun.

She seemed to disregard her own safety, but in truth, she was simply too confident—too dismissive of everyone else’s actions. Even now, Sang Chencao showed no fear. Perhaps even the people in the shadows were being fooled by her.

A wave of qi stealthily crept forward like a stalking predator, steady and deliberate, resembling a Great Buddha Palm.

However, it lacked any true Buddhist essence or genuine serenity. It was merely a hollow imitation—an act.

It was Guanfeng Gate again!

The Guanfeng Gate seemed to know that Feng Yun’ai and Sang Chencao had clashed with Cuiyu Temple, and they were deliberately mimicking what they had seen to confuse them.

Unfortunately for them, Feng Yun’ai saw through it instantly. She didn’t draw her sword. Standing still amidst the verdant forest, her lonely figure suddenly blurred as she swung her scabbard, shattering the “palm print” descending toward her head.

It wasn’t a Buddhist palm at all, but a mere shadow condensed from internal power. It dissipated with a single strike.

Feng Yun’ai listened to the movements behind her, then pushed off the ground. She darted forward, her heavy scabbard as light as a sliver of wood in her hand. With every rotation, a blast of qi intercepted an incoming attack, causing the massive trees to sway.

To an onlooker, her movements were celestial. They couldn’t know that her internal breath was so tangled it was nearly impossible to straighten, or that her entire body was itching and aching from the Gu insects tunneling beneath her skin.

If not for her intense focus, she would have made a thousand mistakes in every movement.

Even so, Feng Yun’ai didn’t dare use her full strength. Over the years, the Solitary Peak Sword Art had become one with her. Even a simple flourish of her sword carried the shadow of that style. She could not let anyone recognize that she practiced Feng Rong’s Solitary Peak Sword Art.

Suddenly, someone shouted, “Capture Wen Lanxin alive!”

That was it. Even if it was a lie, these people were determined to make it the truth. They were hell-bent on forcing Sang Chencao to be Wen Lanxin.

With Sang Chencao currently pinned in the formation, capturing her would be easy—far easier than dealing with Feng Yun’ai.

Feng Yun’ai closed her eyes to think. The moment she did, Sang Chencao’s mocking smile appeared in her mind. She immediately felt her worries were misplaced.

She turned and leaped, using the tree shadows for cover as she flitted through the canopy like a bird.

Someone nearby whispered, “Can you tell which sect that woman belongs to? Her eyes are veiled… could she be from Qiushui Pavilion?”

“That’s not Qiushui Pavilion’s movement technique. She looks as light as a butterfly, but her strikes are cold and decisive.”

“Should we stop her? She won’t draw her sword, so we can’t see the full extent of her skills. We shouldn’t let her sect become a stumbling block for us.”

“There’s no time for her,” the speaker paused. “Capturing Wen Lanxin is the priority!”

As she moved further away, Feng Yun’ai could no longer hear them. She only felt her heart pounding wildly against her chest, a strange, burning anxiety spreading through her body.

The Gu were thrashing again, causing her already chaotic inner qi to spiral further out of control. It wasn’t just itching anymore; her meridians were screaming in pain.

Feng Yun’ai struck her own pressure points. Her face was as pale as paper. She had to lean against a tree to stay upright, her slender frame appearing incredibly fragile.

The more the Gu became restless, the further she was from Sang Chencao. Perhaps if she went a bit further, she could truly endure the pain until these subordinate Gu died.

At that thought, she gritted her teeth and used her lightness skill to surge forward again. For a moment, she was so numb she felt as if she were drifting among the clouds.

If the Gu didn’t die, she would never be able to investigate the cause of Feng Rong’s death. Moreover, she would constantly be dragged down by that woman.

Just as she lost track of where she was, the agonizing itching in her body suddenly went quiet. It felt as though her soul had been pulled from her body.

Feng Yun’ai dazed for a moment. Before she could recover, her strength failed, and she collapsed softly by the edge of a lake.

After an unknown amount of time, a voice whispered in her ear, “How pitiful. Slumping here without moving… were you waiting for me to come find you?”

In her fading consciousness, Feng Yun’ai thought: That woman really didn’t die, nor was she captured. She truly is something.