"Senior Brother Jiqing, you flatter me. Junior Brother Si Yun merely knows which way the wind blows."
Ye Wutang smiled faintly, his purple robes fluttering. His gaze swept toward the glazed tower imprisoning Lady Red Phoenix, and he said slowly, "Senior Brother, this Origin Spirit is beyond your grasp. Why not let me go first? Once I become a True Lord, I'll carefully select another for you."
No sooner had he spoken than the Hundred Beauties Painting beside him unfurled, stretching for a thousand miles. The women depicted upon it seemed to come alive, draped in rosy clouds and crowned with feathers. Like celestial maidens descending to the mortal world, they rode the wind through empty air, sweeping straight toward Jiqing.
Jiqing snorted coldly, seized a white-bone folding fan with a backhand motion, and snapped it open with a swish.
The fan bore a painting of evening snow over a thousand mountains. With a casual wave, he sent wind and snow pouring from it, instantly shrouding the clear, bright sky in darkness.
"Sushang, Qinghe, what are you waiting for?!"
Chu Mo and Qinghe exchanged a glance and answered together, "Yes!"
Qinghe raised her delicate hand, sending a plain white handkerchief fluttering out. It swelled in the wind to roughly an acre in size, scattering dust-cleansing radiance as it descended over Si Yun.
A light, exquisitely graceful Rosy Cloud Round Fan suddenly appeared in Chu Mo's hand. Holding Sushang's Life-bound Magical Treasure, he turned his wrist gently, sending billowing masses of hazy rosy mist surging toward Si Yun. Attacking from opposite sides, the two immediately caught him in a pincer.
Si Yun's expression grew solemn, and he dared not be careless. With a slight stirring of his thoughts, a pink cloud appeared before him. He seized it and flung it out,