klisemfg Chapter 517 Undercurrent surging
Chapter 517 Undercurrent surging
When the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, I was staring blankly at the moonlight on the lotus pattern on the arena.
The wind whistled around my neck, and I instinctively pulled my outer robe tighter. But my fingertips touched the grain of the ebony hairpin at my waist—the black ash from the Reverse Spirit Talisman from earlier in the day was still stuck to the tip of the hairpin, like a small, sharp pebble.
Do you think this is a coincidence?
A low, husky voice drifted from behind me, startling me so much that my heart skipped a beat.
When I turned around, Wen Chen was already standing two steps away, his white shirt billowing slightly in the night wind, and the jade crown in his hair gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
He clutched a yellowed secret report in his hand, his knuckles turning bluish-white from gripping it so tightly.
“No.” I tightened my grip on the ebony hairpin. “The Reversal Talisman can reverse spiritual energy, Chen Erniu’s short blade was coated with bitter almond poison, and even Junior Sister Zhou’s blood was cold—someone wants to muddy the waters.”
Wen Chen walked over and gently placed the secret report on my lap.
Amidst the rustling of pages, I caught a faint scent of sandalwood mingled with a chilling frost on him; he must have just arrived from the inner sect's library. "Three days ago, the warning array of the mountain-guarding barrier was triggered once," he said, tapping the secret report with his finger. "That person's movements were unpredictable, avoiding all the patrolling disciples, yet leaving traces in the Xuanxiao Sect's records—a similar incident involving a reverse-spirit talisman occurred during their grand competition last year, ultimately resulting in the deaths of three core disciples."
I unfolded the secret report, and the tiny characters, as bright as candlelight, stung my eyes.
The Xuanxiao Sect's annotation still carried the scent of ink: "This person's actions seem methodical; after causing destruction, he will inevitably leave behind half of a Xuan Iron token."
“The Xuan Tie token.” I murmured to myself, suddenly recalling the half-worn jade pendant that Chen Erniu had been wearing at his waist when he collapsed during the day—it was carved with a lotus pattern, and its design was remarkably similar to the token pattern depicted in the Xuanxiao Sect’s records.
Wen Chen squatted down to be at my eye level. The moonlight fell on the beauty mark at the corner of his eye, like a drop of blood that hadn't dried yet: "I checked the entry and exit records for room C. Only two people have gone in in the last seven days."
One is Uncle-Master Li, who is in seclusion, and the other… He paused, “is your new disciple, Xiao Tao, whom you accepted last month.”
Little Peach?
I clenched the newspaper tightly, the corner of the paper pricking my palm painfully.
That girl is only thirteen years old. She brought me osmanthus cake and tea the other day, and she always has a red string tied to her braid. "She couldn't possibly..."
“I didn’t say she was the mastermind.” Wen Chen covered my trembling hand, “but someone opened the door with her ID card.”
Barrier warning, forged identity tokens, reverse spirit talismans... this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. "His fingertips brushed against the wound on my wrist, the one I sustained during the day when I shielded Fairy Zhou from a spiritual energy blade," he said. "They're testing your limits."
Test me?
I gazed at the empty arena below, the sharp sound of Zhou Xianzi's wooden sword striking down during the day still ringing in my ears.
Her eyes shone like stars, and when she said, "Fairy Xiao, I will certainly not fail your teachings," her Adam's apple trembled—such eyes should not be tainted by conspiracy.
"The semi-finals are tomorrow." I withdrew my hand, folded the secret report into a small square, and tucked it into my sleeve. "Junior Sister Zhou is the favorite to win the championship. If they want to cause trouble, they will definitely target her."
As Wen Chen stood up, the hem of her robe brushed against the beaded flower at my feet—the one that Junior Sister Chu had dropped during the day.
He bent down to pick it up, and the broken diamonds glittered in the moonlight. I suddenly noticed the small characters engraved on the back of the beaded flower: Xuan Tie Tang.
“Xuan Tie Tang?” I blurted out.
Wen Chen's fingers paused on the beaded flower, then he suddenly clenched it in his palm. "I'll go check the Xuan Tie Tang's accounts." He turned to leave, then stopped. "It's chilly at night, go back to your room."
I watched his figure disappear into the night until the lanterns of the night patrol disciples swept across the arena, and then I groped my way down from the viewing platform in the dark.
As my skirt brushed against the bluestone pavement, it picked up some dew. The coolness crept up my legs, but it also cleared my head a bit—I need to keep a close eye on Junior Sister Zhou for tomorrow's match.
The next day, just as dawn broke, the training ground erupted in a cacophony of voices.
I stood at the front of the spectator area, watching Zhou Xianzi on the arena, where she was facing off against the disciples of the Qingfeng Sect, holding a wooden sword.
Sunlight streamed through her hair, illuminating the red ribbon on her hair tie—the one I tied for her yesterday.
"Rise!" The referee struck the gong.
Zhou Xianzi's wooden sword slashed down with a whooshing sound, and it was 30% faster than yesterday.
The Qingfeng Sect disciple's spirit sword had only been drawn half an inch when she flicked it away, and it crashed to the side of the arena with a clang.
"Bravo!" cheers erupted from the spectator area.
I gripped my sleeve tightly—her wrist had trembled slightly when she drew her sword.
The movement was extremely light, as if something had tugged at a string.
"Next match: Zhou Qingge vs. Zhao Ling from Cangwu Peak!"
When Zhou Xianzi turned around, I saw a suspicious bluish spot appear behind her ear.
When I bandaged her hand yesterday, that area was still snow-white.
I squinted and quietly probed her with my spiritual sense—her spiritual energy was flowing too fast, as if she were being pushed along by something, and her dantian was faintly tinged with dark purple, like a cloud of mist that couldn't be dispelled.
“Junior Sister Zhou.” I strode over and stopped her just as she was about to go on stage. “The tassel on your wooden sword is loose.” I held the tassel, my fingertips touching her wrist; it was chillingly cold. “Let me tighten it for you.”
She looked down at me, sweat trickling down her cheeks from the corners of her eyes. "Thank you for your trouble, Fairy Xiao." Her voice was sweet, but her eyes—the stars of yesterday had dimmed, as if veiled by a layer of mist.
I lowered my eyes to straighten the sword tassel for her, and gently pinched my palm with my fingernails.
Dark purple mist, unusual spiritual energy, blue spots behind the ears... these clues swirled in my mind.
"That's enough." I released my grip, and the tassel on the sword swayed. "Hurry up and get on stage, don't keep everyone waiting."
She responded and walked toward the arena, sword in hand.
I watched her retreating figure, then pulled out an ebony hairpin from my sleeve—today, I'm determined to see who did this to her.
I pressed my fingertips against the cun guan chi point on Zhou Qingge's wrist, and my spiritual sense probed along her meridians like a fine needle.
This probing revealed a sticky black mist churning in her dantian, which was traveling along her dantian to her limbs and bones, leaving bluish-purple bruises along its path.
My back teeth ached from clenching them—this was clearly the Soul-Eating Gu, a technique lost for a hundred years in the Southern Frontier, specifically designed to devour the most vigorous spiritual energy of cultivators. Once the Gu worms had eaten away all the energy from the dantian, the person would be nothing but an empty shell.
“You’ve been poisoned with a Soul-Eating Gu.” My voice was strained, and my nails almost dug into my palms.
Zhou Qingge's eyelashes trembled violently, and the blue spots behind her ears were spreading towards her neck at a visible speed. "Yesterday..." Her Adam's apple bobbed, and cold sweat dripped down her chin onto the wooden sword. "Yesterday, a senior brother in a blue robe said that I had been practicing swordsmanship too hard recently, and gave me three Qi-replenishing pills."
I thought we were from the same sect, so I ate one without thinking too much about it...
"Blue robe?" My mind went blank for a moment—disciples on duty at the martial arts arena wore moon white robes, inner sect elders wore black robes, and blue robes were the standard for outer sect stewards.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Senior Brother Lin standing at the edge of the viewing area checking the list of participants. I immediately called out to him, "Senior Brother Lin!" As he turned his head, I used my spiritual sense to send my voice over: "Quickly check which outer sect deacons entered the martial arts arena yesterday, focusing on the disciples in green robes who brought Qi-replenishing pills." Senior Brother Lin's eyebrows suddenly twitched, and as he turned, a gust of wind rose up, the hem of his green robe billowing as it swept past the stone railing of the viewing area, and he disappeared in the blink of an eye.
I took out the jade bottle from my waist; the bottle was still warm from my body—this was the "Qingling Powder" that Wen Chen had just refined the day before, specifically designed to counteract the venomous Gu worms.
I poured out two pills and pinched Zhou Qingge's chin to feed them to me, but she turned her head away: "Fairy Xiao, the competition is about to begin..."
"What competition?!" I cried, my eyes welling up with tears. "If you go on stage now, the Gu worms will be stimulated by the spiritual energy and eat even faster. Half an incense stick's time will be enough to kill you!" Her eyes suddenly reddened, as if I had hurt her with my shout: "But I promised you I would win the championship for our Jade Balance Peak this year..."
"Your life is more important than anything else." I forced the pill into her mouth, my fingertips touching the cold sweat on her lips, which made me shiver.
The Qingling Powder melted instantly upon entering her mouth, and a warm light rose from Zhou Qingge's dantian. The black mist of the Soul-Eating Gu was dispersed somewhat, but the sticky substance actually separated into fine tendrils, which burrowed along her spiritual meridians towards my fingertips.
I abruptly pulled my hand back, and the old wound on my wrist where I had shielded her suddenly burned with pain—this Gu worm could actually turn on its caster.
“Dang—”
The sound of a gong shattering exploded overhead.
When I looked up, the cloud-patterned banner in the center of the training ground was torn in two by the wind, and a dark figure was falling from mid-air. A blood-red longsword was sticking out the tassels of the broken banner, and it was so bright in the sunlight that people couldn't open their eyes.
"You guys are quite the troublemakers." The voice was like sandpaper scraping against a stone slab, carrying the stench of rotting wood.
I shielded Zhou Qingge and took two steps back before I could see the figure clearly: he wore a half-bronze ghost mask, the exposed half of his face covered with dark purple patterns, and a black iron pendant hanging from his left ear—exactly the same as the "Black Iron Hall" engraving on the pearl flower during the day, and the pattern on the jade pendant at Chen Erniu's waist.
There was an uproar.
The disciples in the spectator area screamed and hid below the stage. A few of the bolder ones drew their swords and tried to rush up, but were knocked to the ground by the shockwave from his sword swing.
Hall Master Zhao raised his token and shouted "Mountain Protection Formation!" but his voice was torn to shreds by the sword energy; Elder Li formed a hand seal to form a defensive formation, but the masked man sneered, "You think you can handle this?"
I pushed Zhou Qingge behind me, and the ebony hairpin suddenly shot out a three-inch-long blade of cold light—this was a defensive magic weapon that Wen Chen had forged for me using extreme northern black ice iron.
Just as he was about to activate his spiritual sense, he suddenly felt a warmth on his wrist as Wen Chen's palm covered his.
He had appeared beside me without me noticing, his white shirt stained with specks of blood (likely from his injuries sustained while rushing back from the Xuan Tie Hall), yet he stood ramrod straight: "I'm here."
The masked man turned his sword tip toward me, the black iron pendant flashing cold light: "Xiao Yao, you've ruined my plans three times."
Reverse Spirit Talisman, Identity Card, Soul-Eating Gu... With each word he spoke, the tip of his sword pressed down a little further. "You think you can stop all of this?"
“Yes.” I stared at the black iron pendant behind his ear and suddenly remembered the words in the Xuanxiao Sect’s secret report: “After destruction, half of the black iron token will be left behind.”
It turns out they weren't keeping it, but wearing it as a form of protest.
Wen Chen's fingertips tapped lightly on the back of my hand, which was our pre-arranged signal: he would distract me from the left, and I would flank him from the right.
"Protect Junior Sister Zhou," I whispered, turning and wielding the ebony hairpin.
The cold glint of the hairpin tip pierced the air. The masked man swung his sword to block it. The moment the two swords clashed, I smelled a burnt odor—his sword was seeping blood, and countless souls were sealed within its blade, emitting faint cries.
Wen Chen's sword struck almost simultaneously.
He used the Jade Peak Sect's signature sword technique, "Stars Hang Over the Wilderness," and every strike targeted the masked man's weaknesses.
The masked man clearly hadn't expected him to intervene. He took three steps back to steady himself, and the black iron pendant slammed against the scabbard with a clang.
The collision created an opening, and I seized the opportunity to perform a hand seal. The ebony hairpin transformed into a streak of green light, aiming straight for his wrist holding the sword.
"Ding--"
The clanging of metal made my eardrums hurt.
The masked man flicked his wrist, and a cyan light grazed his sleeve, leaving a deep mark on his shoulder armor.
He suddenly chuckled, his laughter mingled with the screams of several women (the souls sealed within the sword): "Interesting, very interesting..." Before he finished speaking, he lightly touched the arena with his toes and fled towards the edge of the arena.
"Chase!" Wen Chen was about to move when I grabbed his sleeve.
Looking down, I saw Zhou Qingge clutching the hem of my skirt. Her hands were icy cold, though the dark spots behind her ears had faded somewhat. "Fairy Xiao, he..."
"I'll take you to the alchemy room first." I picked her up and ran backstage, with Wen Chen following behind, his sword energy cleaving through the crowd.
As I passed by the spectator area, I glimpsed the disciples who had been knocked down earlier helping each other to their feet. Hall Master Zhao was still clutching his token, but it was only half left—the masked man's sword energy could actually cut through magical artifacts.
After handing Zhou Qingge over to Uncle Liu in the alchemy room, Wen Chen and I stood under the corridor, catching our breath.
There was a bloodstain on his white shirt, and I then realized that my palms were covered in sweat, and the patterns of the ebony hairpin had left red marks on my palms.
“There’s something wrong with Xuan Tie Tang’s accounts,” Wen Chen suddenly said, his fingertips tracing the beaded flower he had just picked up. “I’ve checked the expenditures for the past ten years, and every month there’s a sum of money for ‘special materials’ being deposited into the black market in Southern Xinjiang.”
"Combined with the masked man's Soul-Eating Gu..." His gaze darkened. "They're raising Gu."
The wind swept fallen leaves past the corner of the corridor, and the tips of the leaves brushed against the old wound on my wrist.
Shouts from the patrolling disciples could be heard in the distance; they must be chasing after the masked man.
But I know that the real trouble has only just begun—the people behind the Xuan Tie Hall are probably even more difficult to deal with than this masked man.