The fire blazed higher, and little balls of flame kept falling from above, cluster after cluster.
Qian Ziyan kept shifting his feet, but his fingers never stopped plucking the zither strings. Streaks of pale green spiritual power struck upward, and every time flames fell toward his head, he evaded them with ease.
"Elder Brother, let me help you."
Qian Yiling drew a short flute from her storage space. It was about the size of a grown man's palm and black all over. Beneath the fiery red light, something seemed to flow through it. Its lilting melody formed a music all its own, ethereal and soaring, enveloping the falling flames and gathering them together, whether by design or otherwise.
Mu Sheng and Zhi Lan both breathed a sigh of relief. Even so, the flames overhead fell like an endless rain, and the two sides remained poised with swords drawn and bows bent. Xiao Miao dodged the flames with ease, but the fire he had suppressed showed faint signs of rising again.
Watching from the side, Mu Sheng trembled with fear. He urged, "Xiao Miao, you absolutely have to keep it down."
Xiao Miao nodded hard.
"Mm-"
Dongfang Minghui felt that the blinding light had never gone away, so she simply closed her eyes. Her whole body felt weightless, and she thought she was falling endlessly. She even wondered whether someone had already pulled her down, so she tightened her grip on Little Fatty. "I must be dreaming."
Little Lecher hesitated before saying, "Little Fatty doesn't seem to be doing very well."
Ignoring the risk of blindness, Dongfang Minghui abruptly raised her head toward the dazzling light, her eyelids involuntarily flinching. Outside her field of vision, Little Fatty had stretched to the height of an adult, and the hands holding the Heavenly