Huyan Li's Threat

"Hm?"

"You think that new guy is stronger than Huyan Li?"

Zhang Mo thought for a moment. "I don't know."

Ning Rongrong fell silent.

After a while, she said quietly:

"If he's stronger than Huyan Li and you can't beat him, run."

Zhang Mo looked at her.

She was still watching the window, not looking back.

"You're fast. You can definitely get away," she continued. "I'll hold them off."

"What about you?" Zhang Mo asked.

"I'll hide. I'm a support type. I can't fight, but I can hide."

Zhang Mo was silent for a few seconds, then said:

"We don't need to run."

Ning Rongrong turned to look at him.

He was gazing out the window, his expression calm.

"The two of us can beat him."

Ning Rongrong stared at him for a few seconds, then looked away and said softly:

"Then do your best."

Zhang Mo nodded.

They sat there like that, neither of them saying a word.

Every now and then, the sound of a car came from outside.

After a long while, Ning Rongrong suddenly yawned.

Zhang Mo turned to her. "Sleepy?"

Ning Rongrong shook her head. "Not sleepy."

But as soon as she finished speaking, she yawned again.

Zhang Mo stood up, fetched the blanket from the inner room, and handed it to her.

"Cover up. Don't catch a chill."

Ning Rongrong took the blanket, draped it over herself, and curled up on the sofa.

Zhang Mo sat back down in his chair and continued reading the book he hadn't finished.

Curled up in the blanket, Ning Rongrong showed only her head, her eyes fixed on him.

After a while, she suddenly said:

"Zhang Mo."

"Yeah?"

"Is that book of yours any good?"

Zhang Mo glanced at the book in his hands—it was a technical book about restoring cultural relics, full of jargon and pictures.

"It's all right."

"Oh," Ning Rongrong said, then asked, "What's it about?"

"How to fix things."

Ning Rongrong thought for a moment. "Then will you teach me someday?"

Zhang Mo looked at her. "You want to learn?"

Ning Rongrong nodded. "In case you're not around one day and something breaks, I'll be able to fix it myself."

Zhang Mo was silent for a few seconds, then said:

"Sure."

The corners of Ning Rongrong's mouth lifted. Then she tucked her face back into the blanket.

After a while, she spoke again:

"Zhang Mo."

"Yeah?"

"Does that Spirit Bone of yours really not hurt?"

Zhang Mo thought for a moment. "It feels a little swollen."

"Oh," Ning Rongrong replied.

A little while later.

"Zhang Mo."

"Yeah?"

"What are we having tomorrow?"

Zhang Mo put down his book and looked at her.

Curled up in the blanket, she showed only her eyes, bright and sparkling.

He suddenly smiled.

"What do you want?"

Ning Rongrong thought for a moment. "Buns."

"Didn't we have those today?"

She answered with complete conviction, "We had them today, so we can't have them tomorrow?"

Zhang Mo said nothing. He stood up and headed for the kitchen.

Ning Rongrong called after him:

"What are you doing?"

Without turning around, Zhang Mo replied, "Making dough. I'll steam fresh buns tomorrow morning."

Ning Rongrong froze for a moment, then her smile spread wide.

She burrowed back into the blanket, showing only half her face as she watched the kitchen.

The sound of him kneading dough came from inside, thump, thump.

Listening to it, she suddenly felt a little less afraid.

Five days, then.

At least there'd be buns.

She closed her eyes and slowly fell asleep.

She slept deeply, without dreaming.

By the time she woke again, it was already the next morning.

Sunlight poured in through the window, warm and golden. She opened her eyes and saw a steaming basket of buns on the coffee table, with a cup of soy milk beside it.

Zhang Mo sat across from her, head bowed over the book in his hands.

Ning Rongrong sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Morning." Zhang Mo looked up at her.

Ning Rongrong murmured in response, reached for a bun, and took a bite.

The hot meat juices scalded her tongue. She hissed and sucked in cool air, but couldn't bear to spit it out.

Zhang Mo handed her a glass of cool water.

She took it and drank, then continued eating.

As she ate, something suddenly occurred to her. She looked up and asked:

"What time did you get up?"

"Five."

Ning Rongrong stared at him for a moment.

He'd gotten up at five to make dough and steam buns?

She looked down at the bun in her hand, then at the man across from her, head bent over his book, and suddenly felt her nose sting.

But she quickly sniffed and pretended nothing was wrong as she continued eating.

After breakfast, the two of them went out again.

The same ruins, the same maze.

Sunlight fell across the concrete blocks, and the wild grass rustled.

Ning Rongrong stood in the middle of the training ground and took a deep breath. Then she turned to Zhang Mo.

"Let's go," she said. "What are we practicing today?"

Zhang Mo thought for a moment. "You running."

Ning Rongrong was taken aback. "Me running?"

Zhang Mo nodded. "In case I can't hold them off, you need to be able to get away by yourself."

Ning Rongrong started to say something, but Zhang Mo didn't give her the chance.

"You said you'd hold them off for me. It works the other way around, too. If I can't hold them off, you need to be able to run."

Ning Rongrong fell silent.

A few seconds later, she nodded. "All right."

The training began.

Zhang Mo chased her, and Ning Rongrong ran.

At first, she ran all over the place, either tripping or going the wrong way. Zhang Mo kept hauling her back, telling her which way to go and how to use the concrete blocks to stay out of sight.

Little by little, she began to get the hang of it.

The sun moved from the east to overhead, then from overhead to the west.

They trained all day.

By evening, Ning Rongrong was exhausted and sat on the ground, panting heavily.

Zhang Mo handed her a bottle of water.

She took it and drank, then suddenly asked:

"How am I doing?"

Zhang Mo thought for a moment. "Not bad."

The corners of Ning Rongrong's mouth lifted.

She looked up at the evening clouds and suddenly said:

"Zhang Mo."

"Yeah?"

"Three days left."

Zhang Mo nodded.

Ning Rongrong fell silent for a few seconds, then stood up and brushed the dust off her clothes.

"Let's go," she said. "Back for buns."

Zhang Mo looked at her and suddenly smiled.

The two of them walked side by side into the dusk.

Behind them, the ruins waited quietly.

Waiting for a new battle, three days from now.

Sunlight squeezed through a gap in the curtains, drawing a thin golden line across the floor.

Ning Rongrong opened her eyes and realized she'd fallen asleep on the sofa again. The blanket was wrapped snugly around her, leaving only her head exposed. She turned toward the other side of the room—Zhang Mo sat in his chair, staring blankly into the air. A purple light flickered in his right eye.

He was looking at the system again.

She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and went over.

"What are you looking at?"

Zhang Mo didn't turn around. He just shifted the light screen to the side so she could see it too.

[Target: Huyan Li]

[Level: Level 65 Spirit Emperor]

[Martial Soul: Diamond Mammoth (top-tier Beast Martial Soul)]

[Spirit Rings: yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black]

[Traits: strength-focused, extremely high defense, relatively slow]

[Accompanying subordinates: 5 Spirit Elders (levels 40–45), all with strength-type Martial Souls]

[Note: Direct disciple of the Elephant Armor Sect. Once killed a five-thousand-year Soul Beast with a single punch.]

After reading it, Ning Rongrong's face lost some of its color.

"Someone from the Elephant Armor Sect..." she murmured. "I've heard of him."

Zhang Mo turned to look at her.

Ning Rongrong bit her lip, thinking back. "The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect has dealt with the Elephant Armor Sect. Everyone in their sect is crazy. They rely on their thick skin and take no care for their lives when they fight. Huyan Li ranks among the top three of the younger generation."

She paused, then added, "My father said the people from the Elephant Armor Sect may be stupid, but they're the hardest to deal with. You can hit him ten times and he won't even feel it; he hits you once and you're down."

Zhang Mo nodded and continued reading.

[Mission: Kill Huyan Li and his subordinates]

[Reward: 600 World Origin Points, 1 random Spirit Bone]

[Failure penalty: Dual World Collision accelerated by 50 days]

Ning Rongrong stared at the line that said "accelerated by 50 days" and fell silent.

It was a long time before she spoke. "Five Spirit Elders... plus a Spirit Emperor. We can't beat them."

Zhang Mo said nothing.

Ning Rongrong continued, "Shi Nian was lucky. He was good at illusions, and you happened to counter him. But Huyan Li is different. He doesn't need illusions; he'll just fight head-on. Your ancient martial arts will feel like tickling to him."

Zhang Mo still said nothing.

Ning Rongrong grew anxious. "Did you hear what I said?"

Zhang Mo looked at her and suddenly asked, "Then what do you think we should do?"

Ning Rongrong froze for a moment, then said, "Hide. Didn't you say this world was huge? Find somewhere with no people and hide for a few months. He won't be able to find us, and he'll leave eventually."

Zhang Mo shook his head. "We can't hide forever. And once he arrives, he'll search everywhere for you. Hiding would only drag innocent people into this."

"Then what do you think we should do?"

"Strike first," Zhang Mo said. "Set an ambush where he'll arrive."

Ning Rongrong stared at him, wanting to say something, but swallowed her words before they could leave her mouth.

She looked into his eyes. As he said it, they shone brightly, so unlike his usual gentle expression.

Like the people from Shrek Academy when they faced a powerful enemy.

Boss Dai was like that, and Xiao Wu was too. Even that annoying Tang San was like that.

They knew they couldn't win, yet their eyes shone with a frightening brightness.

She suddenly felt a little dazed.

"Are you... are you stupid?" she whispered.

Zhang Mo looked at her but didn't argue.

Ning Rongrong took a deep breath. "Fine, I'll help you. But you have to promise me one thing."

"What?"

"If it really comes down to a situation where we're sure to die, you have to run." She stared at him, enunciating each word. "Don't worry about me."

Zhang Mo answered without a moment's thought. "Impossible."

Ning Rongrong grew anxious. "You!"

Zhang Mo cut her off. "I won't abandon a companion. Besides, we might not lose."

He stood up and went into the inner room. From the very back of the cabinet, he took out a wooden box.

The box wasn't large, about a foot long. It was pitch-black all over, carved with some indistinct patterns.

Ning Rongrong leaned closer, curious.

Zhang Mo opened the box. A short sword lay inside.

The sword was very short, only about thirty centimeters long. Its blade was covered in dark green rust, making it look as if it had just been dug out of the earth. But the edge gleamed with a cold, sinister light.

"What is this?" Ning Rongrong asked.

"The Fish Gut Sword, passed down in my family." Zhang Mo picked up the short sword and held it in his hand. "They say it's more than two thousand years old, and that it's made to pierce heavy armor."

He walked to the coffee table and gently jabbed the short sword into its solid wood surface—

The blade pierced it as easily as tofu, all the way to the hilt.

Ning Rongrong's mouth fell open.

Zhang Mo pulled the sword out, leaving a smooth hole in the table.

"Th-this can pierce Huyan Li's Diamond Mammoth?"

Zhang Mo nodded. "In theory. No matter how strong Huyan Li's defense is, he's still flesh and blood. This sword can pierce bronze armor, so it should be able to pierce him."

Ning Rongrong stared at the short sword for a long while, then suddenly asked, "Then why didn't you use it the last time you fought Huyan Li?"

"I didn't know he was coming last time. Besides, the sword was back at my hometown. I only had someone bring it over a few days ago."

Ning Rongrong fell into thought.

After a moment, she asked, "How are you planning to use it? He's so huge. Can you even get close to him?"

Zhang Mo put the sword back in its box. "That's why we need to set an ambush."

He walked to the window and pointed toward the distant outskirts.

"The system will notify us ahead of time where he'll arrive. We'll go there early and set traps. We'll use the terrain to limit his movements. Then—" He paused. "I'll look for a chance to get close and use the Fish Gut Sword to stab him in a vital spot."

As Ning Rongrong listened, her brows furrowed tighter and tighter.

"Easier said than done," she whispered. "He has five underlings, too."

Zhang Mo turned to look at her. "That's why I need you."

Ning Rongrong froze.

Zhang Mo said, "You'll boost me while disrupting his underlings. You don't have to kill them, just hold them off. Once I kill Huyan Li, the five remaining Soul Elders won't be a threat."

Ning Rongrong fell silent.

She calculated in her mind. With her current Soul Power, she could boost Zhang Mo with all her strength for twenty minutes at most. Using Heart Separation Control to disrupt five people at once, she could manage for no more than five minutes.

What then?

She didn't ask.

Because she knew the answer.

After five minutes, either Zhang Mo would have killed Huyan Li, or they would both be dead.

She looked up at Zhang Mo.

He was looking at her, too.

They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then Ning Rongrong suddenly smiled.

"Fine," she said. "That's what we'll do."

Zhang Mo looked at her, a little surprised.

Under his gaze, Ning Rongrong felt awkward and turned her head away. "What are you looking at? I'm doing this for the sake of both worlds, not for you!"

The corners of Zhang Mo's mouth lifted slightly.

Ning Rongrong walked to the window and stood beside him, looking at the distant sky.

After a while, she suddenly asked, "Is that Fish Gut Sword really more than two thousand years old?"

"About that."

"So it's an antique?"

"Yes."

"Is it valuable?"

Zhang Mo thought for a moment. "It's priceless."

Ning Rongrong turned to look at him, her expression complicated.

"Then aren't you afraid it'll break if you use it?"

"If it breaks, we can repair it. If someone dies, there's no fixing that."

Ning Rongrong froze for a moment, then looked away.

After a long while, she whispered,

"Zhang Mo."

"Yeah?"

"If we're about to die this time," she paused, her voice growing even softer, "at least we should die together."

Zhang Mo turned to look at her.

She was still gazing out the window, but her ears had turned bright red.

He was silent for a few seconds, then said,

"Okay."

Ning Rongrong said nothing more.

But her hand quietly reached over and caught his sleeve.

She gripped it tightly.

Zhang Mo lowered his gaze to her hand, then looked at her.

She didn't turn around. She only clung to his sleeve as if holding on to the last straw.

The distant sky was blue, with a few white clouds drifting across it.

The honking of cars and the hawkers' calls came from downstairs.

Everything was just as it always was.

But Ning Rongrong knew that from this moment on, some things had changed.

She clutched his sleeve so tightly, as though afraid he would disappear if she let go.

Zhang Mo didn't move either.

The two of them stood by the window, looking at the distant sky.

Sunlight streamed in, casting their shadows on the floor—one tall, one short, pressed close together.