The night wind swept past the alley entrance, but the rusty stench of blood still lingered in my nostrils. My fingertips were slightly numb. The golden line in my palm had long since vanished, yet it felt as though fine needles were wandering beneath my skin. The Jade Slip had been sealed back inside its brocade pouch and pressed against my chest, still carrying a trace of heat.
I did not return to my room. Instead, I avoided the way I had come and hurried through the narrow alleys along the outer side of East Street. My footsteps were light, the medicine pestle gripped in my right hand, my knuckles white from the force. That shadow earlier had not been an illusion. Someone had touched what Mother left behind—and had even dared to leave a mark. Then they could not blame me for abandoning the rules.
The alley grew deeper, high walls hemming it in on both sides, with only a thread of gray-white moonlight overhead. As I turned a corner, I suddenly sensed something strange about the temperature of the flagstones beneath my feet, as though something had been pressing on them for far too long.
I did not stop. Instead, I quickened my pace.
The instant my right foot touched down, three flashes of cold light stabbed out from different directions at once!
A blade from the left slashed straight for my waist and ribs, a poisoned dart shot toward the artery in my neck from the right, and a web-like chain spread out before me from thin air, seeking to trap me where I stood.
I had been prepared. My left foot slammed against the ground, and I leaned backward as the medicine pestle swept sideways, striking the wrist of the blade-wielder to my left. The man grunted, his weapon flying from his grip, but I had no time to pursue him—pain suddenly flared in my right shoulder. The poisoned dart had pierced my clothes, leaving a charred black gash across my flesh.
Demonic energy seeped from the wound into my meridians, like molten lead pouring into my veins.
I gritted my teeth and circulated my Spiritual Power to suppress it, only to discover that something within me seemed to have awakened. A scorching current surged from my dantian, rushing straight toward my brow. My vision blurred for an instant, and when it cleared, the entire world had been dyed a faint gold-red.
A fine crack split open between my brows, shaped like spreading wings.
I did not know how I struck back. I only remembered flicking my right hand, sending the medicine pestle flying into the Formation Eye at the center of the three men's encirclement. Almost at the same time, a layer of flames rose around me—not crimson, but nearly transparent Golden Flame.
The first man had barely raised his shield when the flames spread across the metal. The shield warped and twisted, and his arm turned to charcoal along with it. The second tried to form a seal and retreat, but the bricks beneath his feet had already ignited. Fire exploded along the rune patterns, and he fell silent before he even hit the ground. The third was farthest away, yet he could not escape either—just as the command talisman in his hand lit with bloody light, the Golden Flame reached his throat. He collapsed convulsing without even managing a cry, and moments later, nothing remained but a pile of ashes.
The flames slowly withdrew. I staggered, catching myself against the wall before I could fall to my knees.
My fingertips trembled, my palm soaked with cold sweat. I had not released those flames. They had ignited on their own. Lowering my head, I looked at my right hand. Fine crack-like patterns had emerged across my skin, like icy fractures in porcelain, or some ancient totem.
"Your mother hid you for ten years."
A voice came from behind me, low and even, carrying neither surprise nor admiration.
I spun around, holding the broken handle of the medicine pestle across my chest.
Ji Wuchen stood at the alley entrance, his black robes unmoved. The faint red scar on his face flickered in and out of sight amid the dying firelight. His gaze rested on the Phoenix Mark between my brows, not yet fully closed, and his eyes were terrifyingly calm.
"But once this physique awakens, heaven and earth will know." He said, "How do you feel now?"
I did not answer. I only stared at him. The three assassins had worked in perfect coordination, clearly targeting me. And he... had appeared once again at the most critical moment.
"How did you get here?" I asked.
"I can sense abnormal spiritual pressure." He took two steps forward, his gaze sweeping over the three charred corpses. "Especially a bloodline eruption of this magnitude. Even from half a city away, it can be detected."
I sneered. "So you came here specifically to watch the show? Waiting until I exhausted my strength before talking about the 'secret of deciding life and death through a duel' again?"
He ignored my sarcasm and walked straight to the nearest corpse, crouching down to pick up a black command talisman that had not been completely burned from the ashes. Twisted snake-like patterns were carved along its edges, while the character for "blood" in its center had been burned away by the flames until only half remained.
"Outer deathsworn of the Blood Demon Sect." He rose while pinching the talisman between his fingers. "They do not act alone, nor do they target someone without reason. Unless... someone told them who you are."
My heart jolted.
Mother's words before her death echoed in my ears once more: "If anyone comes seeking your bloodline, it will be to take your blood and refine it into cultivation."
I stared at him. "You know these things. Did you know all along that I would be ambushed?"
"I did not know the exact time." His voice was indifferent. "But I knew something within you was awakening. When you healed your injuries last night, the aura of the Pseudo-Primordial Body resonated with your meridians and triggered certain senses. These three were merely the first batch."
"And you?" I stepped closer, the broken pestle pointing at his chest. "What do you want from me? Last time, you said you wanted to expose my secrets. Now you have come to save me? Do you think I am a chess piece you can manipulate as you please?"
He looked at me, then suddenly raised a hand and held the black command talisman out before me.
"I did not come to control you," he said. "I came to warn you—from now on, every person who approaches you could be an enemy. Including me."
I froze for a moment.
His words did not sound like a gesture of goodwill. They sounded more like he was drawing a line between us.
"Then why did you still appear?" My voice was slightly hoarse. "Why not let me deal with it myself?"
"Because you cannot die yet." He withdrew his hand and turned toward the alley beyond. "Since the Blood Demon Sect has acted, they will not send only these few people. Stronger pursuers will come next, and even deeper forces may become entangled. In your current state, you will not survive three encounters."
I clenched the broken pestle, my knuckles turning white. "That is my business."
"It is mine too." He looked back, his gaze steady. "The Blood Phoenix Power within you has some kind of resonance with the power within me. Just now, I sensed fluctuations from the Heaven-Slaying Origin—it is gathering faster because of you."
My heart skipped a beat.
Heaven-Slaying Origin? What was that?
But before he could explain, his brow suddenly furrowed as he raised his head toward the sky.
I looked up as well.
The originally overcast night sky had taken on a faint violet-red hue. Clouds churned like boiling water, and distant thunder rumbled, yet no rain fell.
"No." He said quietly. "This is not a natural celestial phenomenon."
The scorching sensation within me began to rise again. Pain throbbed between my brows, as though something were being summoned.
"We need to leave." He grabbed my wrist. "The aura released by that battle was too strong and has already triggered a backlash. Within half an hour, Lightning Tribulation will descend upon this area."
"Lightning Tribulation?" I shook off his hand. "I have not even broken through a realm. How could I possibly draw down heavenly punishment?"
"You did not bring it upon yourself." He stared at the Phoenix Mark between my brows. "The awakening of your bloodline itself has violated the rules. The power of an ancient living being has appeared in the world, and heaven and earth will not tolerate it. If you do not leave, you will not be killed by people in a moment—you will be struck to death by heaven."
I did not believe him, but the turmoil within me grew fiercer and fiercer, until even breathing became difficult.
He said no more and turned to leave. "You can stay and verify it if you like, but do not expect me to turn back and save you a second time."
I stood where I was, watching his back vanish beyond the alley entrance.
The wind lifted my robes, and the ends of my hair turned crimson for no reason. I lowered my head toward my palm. The golden line had appeared again, deeper and longer than before, extending all the way to my wrist bone.
Thunder rumbled again in the distance. This time, it was much closer.
I gritted my teeth and stepped forward to chase after him.
The moment I emerged from the alley, I saw him stop beneath an old locust tree. He pointed toward the silhouette of a crumbling temple on a barren slope ahead. "That place can hold for a while."
I said nothing and quickly followed him.
As we neared the ruined temple, I suddenly stopped.
A broken stone stele stood before the temple gate. Its inscription was blurred, with only a few strokes still barely discernible.
And at the very bottom, there was a slanted line.
Exactly the same as the one on my wooden hairpin.
Before you continue