The moonlight turned into frost-like thin scales, clinging closely to the pebble road.
All around was silent.
Su Lingxi did not receive a response from Ye Zhuxu.
All she saw, after her greeting of “Pleasure to meet you,” was the man remaining completely still.
After a long while, he finally turned his head slightly and curved his eyes at her in a faint smile.
His brow arches were gentle, and the corners of his eyes curled like tiny hooks.
Su Lingxi felt something strange, indescribably strange.
Sometimes, a smile does not mean friendliness.
She knew this well, and her guard went up.
Yu Lin’an was on high alert.
Fuyu was a good place—relationships between people weren’t complicated.
The very people who were locked in fierce combat within the water mirror moments before could step out of that cursed place, plop down together on the clouds regardless of their level of cultivation or innate talent, and groan about how the grand master was heartless today, all the while agreeing with each other wholeheartedly.
Ye Zhuxu was an oddity.
He never mingled with crowds, never talked to anyone, let alone showed a pleasant face.
His fame stemmed from his terrifying strength.
Over the years, he had appeared in every deadly place known as a “Dao-proving site” — the kind where if you made it out, you were said to have proven your Dao; if not, your bones would be buried there.
He had broken many records.
Now, this sword was called Jingmie (“Annihilating Shock”).
In Fuyu, from children to elders, no one didn’t know it.
It had been lying dormant in the sea of magma for many years.
Every so often, a stunning genius would try to claim it, only to return disappointed.
But because everyone failed, it stopped being a big deal.
Ye Zhuxu went to retrieve the sword on a day when Yu Lin’an happened to be at his place.
Yu Lin’an didn’t visit much anymore.
After all, his skin wasn’t that thick, and after enough cold shoulders—and more than once being met with killing intent—he slowly gave up.
Only on rare days in the year, around the holidays, after the hustle and bustle of his own house had faded, he’d think of Su Lingxi and go see that grim reaper, purely on her behalf.
Yu Lin’an remembered clearly—it was the “Luri Day,” a lovers’ festival in Fuyu.
Many couples also celebrated it sweetly.
Lanterns floated into the sky, countless lantern boats drifted into the sea, waking the sleeping giant fish who sprayed columns of water into the air.
Amid whispered words of love—timid or bold—came the distant, long cries of whales.
In such a peaceful and heartwarming moment, Ye Zhuxu packed his things.
Under Yu Lin’an’s questioning, he said he was going to the magma sea, and told him bluntly to go back.
“Go back” sounded no different from “get lost.”
Yu Lin’an was momentarily stunned.
“You’re going to retrieve Jingmie? Today?”
Ye Zhuxu locked the door and left.
Yu Lin’an had no choice but to follow, trying to persuade him:
“Don’t. That place is cursed. Everyone who goes ends up half-dead. Instructor Jingyin went two weeks ago and still hasn’t returned. His classes are being covered by his brother now.”
“Don’t suffer needlessly.”
Ye Zhuxu asked him, “Are you done?”
Yu Lin’an choked, realizing he couldn’t stop him.
So he gave a warning instead:
“Fine, go then. But if you can’t get it, come out immediately. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll be outside with medicine waiting for you.”
The night was uneasy.
Ye Zhuxu looked up at the sky and calmly said, “If I can’t retrieve it, I’ll stay in there forever.”
Yu Lin’an thought he’d misheard.
But no—he meant it.
That time, the magma sea boiled for three days.
No one had ever stayed inside for three days.
During those three days, evil winds howled, strange rains fell, and for a hundred miles around, ghostly wails and wolf howls filled the air.
Many people came to watch.
No matter what they said, Yu Lin’an couldn’t focus—because the disturbance was too great.
Even the notoriously strict Grand Master and the carefree Third Master who usually did nothing but sleep came in person.
Ye Zhuxu was the Third Master’s disciple.
He had a life token.
This sudden trip had been triggered because his life token dimmed all at once while the Third Master was sleeping.
The Grand Master frowned and said to the Third Master, “Your disciple—aren’t you going to do something?”
The Third Master scratched his head, drew a formation to pull Ye Zhuxu out, then sighed and finally woke up fully:
“He won’t come out.”
That was it.
Yu Lin’an felt a chill inside, a hollow despair—as if he had failed to protect the only person connected to Su Lingxi.
How would he ever face her again?
He began to regret—he seemed to have forgotten someone too quickly.
Unknowingly, even the hardest memories fade.
Ye Zhuxu emerged on the sixth day.
When he came out, the terrifying heat had turned everything to ash.
The magma of the entire sea gathered into one place, solidifying into a sword.
Its killing aura tore a hole in the sky.
The famed Jingmie appeared before the public for the first time.
Ye Zhuxu was severely injured—this was the price of seizing the sword.
As he walked step by step out of the dried-up sea, a long trail of blood followed him.
The man who had stirred such chaos kept his head down, showing no emotion, no joy—just silent steps forward.
No one knew where he was going.
Yu Lin’an rushed forward to support him, talking nonstop—first praising his power, then scolding him for being reckless, then urging him to value his life more while fumbling for medicine.
Then came the fourth sentence, said with a wink and a lowered voice:
“If something happened to you, how would I explain it to Su Lingxi—”
At the sound of that name, Ye Zhuxu finally raised his head.
He was covered in blood, as if cut by countless blades.
Even his eyes were bloodshot, but his Adam’s apple moved, and he pulled a faint smile across his lips.
Smiling, he used Jingmie to push Yu Lin’an away and said in a chillingly soft voice:
“Scram.”
This time, Yu Lin’an was truly stunned.
He had often wondered—how could Su Lingxi possibly like Ye Zhuxu?
They were polar opposites.
His usual conclusion was:
Blinded by lust, and fooled by this guy’s fake decorum.
Since then, Su Lingxi’s name became taboo.
Yu Lin’an had only seen that madman smile a few times, and each time it spelled trouble.
This one was eerily similar to the last—it made everyone’s nerves tense up.
And just then, something even more chilling happened.
It had rained during the day, so the wind was stronger than usual that night.
Somehow a new tree had appeared, and the wind rustling through its branches carried a sound.
A bell hanging under the eaves of the northern courtyard rang beautifully, growing louder and clearer, so close it felt like it was in their ears.
Sang Chu and a few others nearby were the first to notice something wrong.
They looked at Su Lingxi—or more accurately, at her waist.
Others followed the sound, glancing at Ye Zhuxu.
Su Lingxi didn’t react immediately.
She didn’t just hear the sound—she felt the bell vibrating.
She was briefly stunned, then lowered her eyes.
A silver bell, usually hidden beneath her waist tag and clothes, had rolled slightly, revealing its round form.
The core inside bounced and rang crisply.
This bell had been with her for many years.
She wore it daily.
Even after forgetting where it came from, she never took it off—it had become a habit.
People had asked her why it never rang.
She had checked it herself, and even consulted craftsmen.
It wasn’t broken—it simply never rang.
She never expected it would ring now.
Unable to resist, she looked at Ye Zhuxu not far away.
This time, there was a subtle shift in her expression.
Yu Lin’an’s mind went blank for a moment.
He hadn’t expected… hadn’t expected that Su Lingxi, even with memory loss, still carried this thing.
Hadn’t expected that after fourteen years, even Ye Zhuxu—who would kill at the mention of her name—still held on.
The least likely thing happened.
His mind echoed with just four words:
Adding fuel to fire.
Just as everyone was at a loss for what to do, Ye Zhuxu suddenly moved.
He kept walking toward them, the smile in his eyes deepening, spreading like ink in water.
The closer he got, the louder the bell rang.
Eventually, it drowned out breathing, the wind—everything.
For a moment, it was the only sound anyone could hear.
Su Lingxi furrowed her brow.
She held a bone knife in her hand.
Because it hadn’t soaked long enough, there was still a lingering smell.
While waiting here, she had wiped it several times with a silk cloth.
Now, she raised her hand and used it to press down on the bell that was jingling with joy.
At the same time, she sharply turned her head to observe the expressions of those around her.
By this point, she realized that this was definitely not the first time she had met this commander.
They must have shared a deep and tangled past.
Her bell had only ever rung for this one person.
But even so, she still remembered nothing.
Even the name “Ye Zhuxu” stirred no familiarity in her at all.
The students of Fuyu had heavy workloads—diverse and extensive studies.
Whether from the Wu clan or the Spirit clan, none escaped the torment of the Grand Teacher.
But oddly enough, there was never a lesson on how to mask one’s expressions.
Compared to Su Lingxi or the sly old foxes in court, these people were easy to read—full of flaws.
Some avoided her gaze; when their eyes met hers, it was as if they’d been burned by fire.
They turned away awkwardly—looking at the sky, the ground, the trees.
Others didn’t shy away but stared back with curiosity and probing interest.
Su Lingxi knew something unexpected was unfolding.
A dozen steps away, Ye Zhuxu drew nearer and nearer.
When Su Lingxi looked up, she could already see the faint smile in his eyes—and behind that smile, a tidal wave of mockery and malice.
What drew the most attention was the increasingly intense sword aura.
As it gathered, it pressed down dark clouds in the sky, veiling the crescent moon.
From it arose a faint but real killing intent that locked onto the entire space.
Su Lingxi pressed her lips together and held the knife blade against the inside of her wrist.
The demon-hunting squad that had come with her, upon receiving the signal, immediately spread out and stood at the ready—prepared for sudden violence.
She more or less understood now.
There had once been something different between her and this commander—something significant—but it had not ended well.
A very, very bad situation.
Just as only a few steps remained, Yu Lin’an wiped his face and stepped forward with a forced laugh.
“Commander, you… need to calm down.”
The last three words were muttered almost like a hum.
Sang Chu also stepped forward, partially blocking Ye Zhuxu’s line of sight, and said pointedly, “Commander, this is the Demon Suppression Department. We’re not far from the imperial palace.”
Ye Zhuxu continued to stare at Su Lingxi.
After a long while, he finally turned slowly to the others.
Seeing that he still showed no restraint, Sang Chu frowned and added, “Urgent news just arrived from Fuyu. A major matter requires your immediate judgment.”
“Fine,” Ye Zhuxu replied—surprisingly compliant.
His crisp response caught both men off guard.
Then he pointed his sword at Sang Chu and asked, “Why are you all stopping me?”
Of course, they feared he’d go berserk and hurt someone.
Who knew whether the Demon Suppression Department had some secret weapon, or if the emperor had marked this place with the national seal?
No one wanted to be the one groveling and begging forgiveness before the emperor.
Ye Zhuxu didn’t expect an answer.
His gaze landed on Su Lingxi’s right hand—still pressing down on the sharp blade.
That was a clear and ruthless combat stance.
He leaned forward slightly, bowing a bit.
The silk of his robes draped like soft seaweed over the ground.
The heat of battle still clung to him.
He spoke to Su Lingxi:
“Pleasure to meet you. First time, isn’t it?”
Ye Zhuxu paused.
Then he straightened and smiled again, “Brought a few gifts for the Grand Teacher.”
A sudden, ominous feeling surged in Su Lingxi’s heart.
The next moment, the false smile faded from Ye Zhuxu’s face.
Towering above them all, he leisurely released a long string in his hand—like scattering fish food into a koi pond.
With the loosening of the rope, three bound demons were instantly freed.
Their unbridled ferocity and survival instinct exploded forth.
In a blink, their bodies expanded and surged forward with deafening roars—charging straight at the northern courtyard.
“Stop them!”
Su Lingxi’s expression turned cold.
She had no time to stab the lunatic who had just ambushed them.
Using the height of a nearby tree, she leapt to deal with one of the creatures.
The demon-hunting squad reacted instantly, each showing their skills to subdue the remaining two.
Caught off guard and unprepared, the scene was instantly thrown into chaos.
Xi Liu had never seen anyone act so recklessly or boldly and shouted in fury, “How dare you!!”
After clashing with the tiger-bodied demon, Su Lingxi changed position and kicked it back.
Unable to contain her anger, she spat out each word:
“This is too much.”
Yu Lin’an and the others had now recovered, gasping for breath as they joined the fight.
Several lifelike paper puppets were released.
Bai Xiao pulled out incense sticks from a small tube at her waist.
In midair, Su Lingxi suddenly froze.
She narrowed her eyes, staring in the direction of the oncoming demon.
And then—
In the very next moment—
The rampaging demons suddenly halted mid-charge.
Blades of sword light burst from within their massive bodies.
Though they continued charging, their limbs—hands, feet, tails—began falling off one by one, followed by their heads.
One head, mouth wide open, had its tongue sliced into fine ribbons that fell onto the gravel path.
The ferocious sword energy enacted a grisly display of dismemberment for all to see.
Caught off guard, the hot blood sprayed all over Yu Lin’an, Bai Xiao, and the demon-hunting squad.
The entire place was shrouded in a mist of blood.
It splattered across stone tables and benches, doorways and window frames—even the treetops, as if someone had dumped buckets upon buckets of blood.
The stench invaded everyone’s nostrils.
Dead silence.
After a long pause, Yu Lin’an closed his eyes again.
Bai Xiao couldn’t help but purse her lips.
Lin Yu’s fists bulged with veins from trying to stay calm.
Su Lingxi turned back.
Her expression had never looked worse.
Dozens of meters away, that figure had already disappeared without a trace.
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