Chapter 41: Azure Cloud (19)

“Alright, Young Master Lingze, now we can discuss how to cooperate.” He Tingtong pressed one hand on the zither strings and plucked lightly, producing a crisp, spring-like dong sound.

Xiangli Lingze sat in the corner, his face bruised. He looked at the four people in front of him, poked the corner of his broken lip with his tongue tip, and laughed in anger, “Buddy, do you have to be so petty?”

“Well, weren’t you planning to complain to Young Palace Master Xie?” He Tingtong lifted the hem of his robe and squatted down halfway. “This is called preparing for a rainy day, striking first to gain the initiative.”

“So, have you all beaten me enough now? Are you satisfied?” Xiangli Lingze’s hands were tied behind his back. He tilted his head back, his hair somewhat messy, yet he still maintained that arrogant and frivolous appearance. “Cooperate?”

He Tingtong glanced at Zhang Duixue beside him. “Are you going?”

On the main road, the attackers and defenders remained in a stalemate. Wave after wave of charges was blocked. It could truly be described as rivers of blood.

“Although looking at him really annoys me,” Zhang Duixue hugged his sword and nodded, “let’s cooperate. Actually, I don’t really want to keep hiding from the Young Palace Master like this. This is a trial; I’m not a rat in the sewer. I should earn points fair and square. Besides, I also want to see how to solve this mystic realm.”

“There are ten shichen (20 hours) left.” Yue Qianxun’s face scrunched up like a bitter melon. “Is there still time? This is the Wandering Spirit Realm of an Eleventh Realm cultivator.”

“We’ll know if we try.” He Tingtong untied Xiangli Lingze’s ropes. “Little Yue, you’re injured, don’t go over there for now. Find a place to hide well until the mystic realm time ends.”

Yue Qianxun touched his left eye and nodded.

He Tingtong looked at Fu Fengyan beside him. “Are you coming?”

Fu Fengyan: “If you go, I go.”

“Alright, then it’ll be the four of us.” He Tingtong tossed the guqin back to Xiangli Lingze, then confiscated his jade tablet. “Don’t think about playing any tricks. If you try to screw us over, I will definitely make you roll out of here holding a zero score.”

“Do I have a grudge against you? You guard against me so much?” Xiangli Lingze caught the zither, shook his wrist, and looked at the two people in front of him. “Fairy, isn’t this too cruel? You took this thing; aren’t you afraid I’ll be hacked to death?”

He Tingtong pinched his throat and said coquettishly in a female voice, “Don’t worry, Young Master has a long life, you won’t die.”

“Then thanks to the Fairy for your deep love, let’s go together.” Xiangli Lingze laughed out loud. He seemed completely unresentful, carrying the zither on his back and walking at the very front. “Speaking of which, although your cultivation levels are low, you two are quite bold. May I ask which sect you belong to?”

He Tingtong: “Humble rogue cultivators, no sect, no faction.”

“You slapped Xie Xuanxiao in the face and have no backing. Aren’t you afraid of his retaliation later?” Xiangli Lingze’s frivolous gaze swept over He Tingtong and Fu Fengyan’s faces, then he smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry, if you help me solve the realm, Big Brother will cover you in the future.”

He Tingtong undid the double buns on his head and combed his hair neatly. “That depends on whether Young Master can take the top spot. After all, we may not be the only ones with this intention in this arena.”

---

The wind chimes under the eaves suddenly tinkled once. Immediately after, strands of rain fell, hitting the eaves with a pitter-patter, fine and dense, merging into a sheet.

“Back already?” Fu Baiyu leaned on the railing, waving to Xiangli Xuan. “Why just you? Where’s your younger brother?”

“He ignored me and teamed up with others.” Xiangli Xuan’s face showed no ripples of emotion as he walked upstairs holding his zither. “Has the Young Palace Master found any trace of your esteemed wife?”

“No.” Xie Xuanxiao gazed into the distance. “If he wants to hide from me, I indeed have no way… just let him be.”

The three stood upstairs, holding the railing and looking toward the main road ahead.

“It’s raining.” Fu Baiyu reached out to catch a handful. “Heaven and earth phenomenon. The time has reached the point of Daoist Master Bixu’s self-sacrifice. It will end in less than ten shichen. When White Emperor City falls, we will be sent out.”

“Want to go over and have some fun?” Fu Baiyu rubbed his arm. “Otherwise, with the three of us here this year, if we don’t even solve one Wandering Spirit Realm, wouldn’t it be too embarrassing for our families?”

“I have no objection.” Xiangli Xuan plucked the zither strings.

Xie Xuanxiao tapped the railing. “Since that is the case, let us go together.”

Water droplets fell, hitting the ground one by one. Ripples swayed, and the world was damp. The white mist made everything look blurry, as if covered by a layer of gauze.

On the main road, two factions were divided. The black-armored cavalry was like a heavy mountain range, but they couldn’t withstand the endless stream of cultivators fighting to the death. More than half of the thirty-six were dead; a dozen or so remained, stubbornly blocking the front of a snow-white tower. The white tower had seven floors, resembling a Buddhist pagoda. At the very top sat a snow-white luminous pearl, suspended within an array surrounded by countless tiny black characters.

“This array is named Spirit Suppression. It reduces the cultivation of cultivators trespassing into White Emperor City. There are a total of one hundred and eight pearls, forcefully suppressing half of a cultivator’s realm. The General History of the Nine Provinces states that it was precisely because countless immortal families risked death to destroy the great array that they were able to breach White Emperor City.” Xiangli Lingze squatted in the corner and pointed upward. “If my guess is correct, as long as this array is broken, the spirit realm can be successfully solved.”

“The difficulty lies in how we get up there.”

The cultivators in the illusion were unlike them who carried jade tablets; if attacked, they could be teleported out directly. One could only see wave after wave of people rushing up, eyes red with killing intent. Long swords snapped, zithers shattered, and arrays dissipated. Those black-armored cavalry killed them like slaughtering pigs and dogs. Limbs and flesh fell to the ground, then washed by the rain, resembling a crimson river spreading in all directions.

“They only have thirteen people left now.” He Tingtong pointed at the crowd. “Four guarding in all directions, and nine leading the charge and slaughter. The lowest cultivation of these black cavalrymen is the Tenth Realm, and they are not restricted by the Spirit Suppression in the city. Us forcing our way through definitely won’t work.”

“We have to make the black cavalry too busy to attend to everything and wait for a gap to appear in the White Tower’s defense.”

“Not enough manpower. With your cultivation, you two can’t lure people away. Even if you could, you wouldn’t last the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.” Xiangli Lingze frowned tightly. His hair was wet, sticking to his forehead. “I practice the Art of Mental Chaos, which can control the mind and soul. However, their realm is too much higher than mine; I can control them for ten breaths at most. Tsk, Brother Zhang, is ten breaths enough for you to go upstairs?”

Zhang Duixue eyed the distance a few times and nodded. “Enough.”

“Then, two Fairies, later I will play a tune. Please protect me. If any black cavalry comes killing over,” Xiangli Lingze took a deep breath, “please carry me and run.”

He Tingtong nodded. “A piece of cake.”

Xiangli Lingze dangerously flipped onto an eave, sat cross-legged, placed the zither across his knees, and plucked the strings. The zither tune was chaotic, faintly merging with the sound of rain. Invisible spiritual power, masked by the rain, struck toward the four black cavalrymen outside the White Tower.

Zhang Duixue was climbing the wall. Treading in the shadows, his steps quiet, avoiding all sight lines, he advanced perilously close to the White Tower.

He Tingtong and Fu Fengyan stood to the left and right behind Xiangli Lingze. Rainwater pattered, falling on their bodies. Their clothes stuck to them wetly, incomparably cold.

“We have all the points needed. We just need to wait for the time to end, and we’ll naturally pass upon exit. Doing this, you are deliberately helping him.” Fu Fengyan transmitted his voice quietly. “Are you friends with him too?”

“At most, count as half a friend.” He Tingtong smiled. “Whether enemy or friend depends on how he chooses.”

In those past eighteen lives, he had also died once at Xiangli Lingze’s hands. This person was unstable and prone to switching sides; cooperating with him usually required 120% vigilance… However, there was one point where he was indeed easy to manipulate. Just throw a Xiangli Xuan in front of Xiangli Lingze, and he would jump up and down shouting “bad luck,” then head in the other direction regardless of anything else.

But the teenage Xiangli Lingze genuinely envied and hated his elder brother—that “elder brother” who shared not a drop of blood with him yet occupied the position of the First Young Master of the Xiangli clan.

The relationship between the two, true and false, real and illusory, was truly twisted and terrifying.

Xiangli Lingze was Xiangli Xuan’s reverse scale (taboo/trigger), and the three words “Xiangli Xuan” were also a taboo that would make Xiangli Lingze furious upon hearing.

In these eighteen lives, He Tingtong had seen countless power shifts within the Xiangli clan. If the First Young Master of the Xiangli clan held power, then Xiangli Lingze would definitely enter the demonic path, and then one day in the future, return to slaughter, wiping out the entire clan.

Or if Xiangli Lingze successfully killed the First Young Master and took power, then Xiangli Xuan would be forced into the demonic path, and then one day return to kill, ending Xiangli Lingze.

Strictly speaking, the two of them didn’t cause world-ending events, at most clan extermination.

However, regardless of who held power, one person would go to Wuqi Road, follow the Daoist Master of Wuqi Road to stir up trouble, and slaughter their way up to the Immortal Alliance, causing the Immortal Alliance to fall apart and Wuhua Realm to be exterminated.

“I was thinking, making the two of them get along harmoniously is unlikely. But compared to Xiangli Xuan, Xiangli Lingze’s thoughts are indeed more superficial and easier to manipulate. If he receives more guidance in his youth, preventing him from being suppressed by Xiangli Xuan in everything, his personality would probably be a bit better.”

Not to the extent of hating the sect, hating his family, hating Xiangli Xuan, and even hating himself.

Water droplets dripped from Xiangli Lingze’s eyelashes. The tune was ceaseless. The four black cavalrymen outside the White Tower stiffened all over, then stopped moving.

A brief ten breaths. Zhang Duixue formed a seal—Divine Travel Art—and rushed toward the tower door like a ghost.

Ten, nine…

Xiangli Lingze pressed on the zither, his gaze fixed dead on that moon-white figure. He Tingtong drew his long sword. Fu Fengyan suddenly looked up, glancing toward the front side.

Eight, seven…

A zither sound suddenly rang out in the sky, tinkling like broken jade, gently brushing across heaven and earth, merging with Xiangli Lingze’s Chaos tune. The two zither sounds entangled, seemingly merging yet fighting.

At this moment, Zhang Duixue had just gotten close to the White Tower. The zither rhythm disordered, and the black cavalry guarding the door slowly began to wake.

Six, five…

He Tingtong drew his sword backhanded, sending a blade of sword Qi slashing toward a nearby eave. Countless tiles fell, smashing onto the ground with a crackling sound. The continuous crisp noise attracted the black cavalry’s gaze.

Zhang Duixue seized the opportunity to leap, flipping into the tower like a piece of paper.

Four, three…

A black cavalryman, holding a long blade, leaped over. He Tingtong grabbed the back of Xiangli Lingze’s collar and shoved him directly off the eave.

Xiangli Lingze hugged his zither, cursed “Xiangli Xuan you son of a bitch,” and then scurried away holding his head along with them.

Two…

Unable to dodge in time, Fu Fengyan drew his sword backhanded to block the black cavalryman’s strike. The long blade slashed onto the sword body, airflow surging. Rainwater flew out inverted. Fu Fengyan’s robes vibrated without wind; his hair ribbon was shattered by the blade Qi, dark hair cascading like a waterfall, flying up and down.

One.

Ten breaths vanished. Xie Xuanxiao landed, looking at the figure of Zhang Duixue flipping into the White Tower. His brow twitched slightly, and he gave a light chuckle, “So he was here.”