Chapter 94: A Desperate Deadlock

Nonsense.

Shen Zhaoqing rolled her eyes inwardly.

Bai Zhileng finally moved, stepping forward. Her voice, perfectly laced with self-reproach and gravity, addressed the Sect Master.

“Sect Master,” she began, “this matter is due to Zhileng’s insufficient skill. I failed to discern the demonic sect’s disguised law pollution, nearly causing a grave error. Zhileng is guilty.”

She bowed slightly, her posture extremely humble.

Xuanweizi’s mind was a tangled mess at that moment. He had no capacity to delve into whether Bai Zhileng was truly innocent.

Only one thought consumed his mind: the Joyful Union Sect, and Pure Heart Heavenly Fox.

That madwoman had already laid out a Heaven-Earth Net.

And they, just moments ago, had been fiercely arguing over how to leap into yet another trap.

“Holy Maiden, you exaggerate,” Xuanweizi responded, waving a hand. His voice was raspy, as if abraded by sandpaper. “The Demonic Venerable’s methods are simply too insidious; even this old Daoist couldn’t see through them. It has nothing to do with the Holy Maiden. It’s merely the current predicament…”

The predicament was that their Qingyun Sect had been cornered.

‘Hand over Shen Zhaoqing? Everyone knows it’s a trap. To hand Shen Zhaoqing over would be to offer our faces for Pure Heart Heavenly Fox to slap as she pleases. But if we don’t?’

What then of the plague sweeping the mountain? What of the countless mortals in the cities below?

Were they to merely watch as their Divine Souls decayed, transforming them into mindless husks?

The Qingyun Sect’s millennia of accumulated prestige and righteousness would crumble in an instant.

This was a dead end.

A dead end more desperate and unsolvable than any before.

“Sect Master!” Elder Li finally caught his breath, speaking urgently. “Since this is a conspiracy by the Joyful Union Sect, there must be a solution. If Pure Heart Heavenly Fox intends to coerce us with this plague, then she must possess the antidote. We only need to…”

“Only need to what?” Elder Wang interrupted him bitterly. “Only need to find her and beg her for the medicine? Elder Li, do you truly believe that madwoman would give us the antidote?”

Elder Li was silenced instantly.

Indeed, Pure Heart Heavenly Fox had expended so much effort precisely to obtain Shen Zhaoqing. Without gaining her, how could she possibly surrender the antidote? She would undoubtedly rejoice at the Qingyun Sect’s utter demise.

“Then we fight!”

Another short-tempered elder roared, “Our Qingyun Sect has stood for ten thousand years! When have we ever feared demonic fiends? Gather all disciples, activate the mountain-protecting grand array, and wage a decisive battle against the Joyful Union Sect!”

“A decisive battle? And then what?”

Xuanweizi countered, his voice laden with fatigue. “The mountain-protecting grand array can safeguard the sect gates, but can it protect the billions of lives in the hundred cities below the mountain? Can their Divine Souls wait for us to fight the Joyful Union Sect for ten or even eight years?”

Another suffocating silence descended.

They were caught between a rock and a hard place, unable to advance or retreat.

This was the Qingyun Sect’s current plight.

The immortal sect leaders, once lofty and surveying all beings, now appeared utterly pale and powerless before absolute strength and shameless conspiracy.

Shen Zhaoqing quietly observed these flustered, helpless sect elders.

A sense of amusement unexpectedly stirred within her.

On ordinary days, these individuals exuded an aura of immortal grace, speaking of “the Way of Heaven is clear” and “the righteous path of humanity,” as if all worldly matters were within their grasp.

Yet, when truly confronted with a crisis, they were more panicked than anyone.

Depend on them?

Hmph.

She might as well depend on the fat cat she once kept at the Jian family, the one that only knew how to steal wine.

She ceased watching them, her gaze sweeping through the crowd. Her heart plummeted.

Then, seizing the moment while everyone’s attention was fixed on how to “break the deadlock,” she quietly retreated and turned, merging into the shadows behind the main hall like a wisp of smoke, vanishing from sight.

No one noticed her departure.

Even Bai Zhileng, who had been keeping her in the corner of her eye, experienced a momentary lapse in attention as she dealt with the interrogations from Xuanweizi and the others.

When she cast her gaze toward that corner again, it was empty.

Bai Zhileng’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Traversing layers of corridors and bypassing a patrol of disciples, who were hurrying along with anxious expressions, Shen Zhaoqing, familiar with the route, arrived at the “Tingxue Residence,” where inner disciples of the Qingyun Sect cultivated in seclusion.

This was Gu Chang’an’s abode.

Unlike other disciple residences, which might be adorned with spiritual flowers, exotic plants, or wind chimes and magic tools, Gu Chang’an’s courtyard was as stark and clean as her sword.

Within the courtyard stood only an ancient pine tree, whose age was unknown, along with a single low table and a stone stool. Beyond these, nothing else could be found.

Bleak and solitary.

Just like its owner.

Shen Zhaoqing stood outside the courtyard, not entering.

Normally, she would go out of her way to avoid this place, fearing she might be frozen by the cold aura emanating from the moving ice block within.

Yet today, as if guided by a mischievous spirit, she halted her steps.

The courtyard gate was ajar, and inside, an oppressive silence reigned. Not a single sound could be heard.

The quiet was unsettlingly profound.

Shen Zhaoqing held her breath, attaching a wisp of faint spiritual energy to her ears, and listened intently.

Inside the room, there was only an extremely faint, almost imperceptible breathing sound.

The breathing was long and labored, trembling in the air, threatening to cease at any moment.

Shen Zhaoqing, after a moment of hesitation, reached out and pushed open the courtyard gate.

A soft creak broke the dead silence of the courtyard.

The scene inside the room came into view.

The furnishings were as simple as always: a bed, a table, a chair.

And the woman who usually stood as straight as a pine, as aloof and proud as snow, now lay quietly on the bed.

She was still clad in her snow-patterned sword robe, but the garment appeared somewhat loose, making her seem even more gaunt. Her face was as pale as paper, her eyes tightly shut. Long, dense eyelashes cast shallow shadows beneath them, lending a fragile quality to her usually sharp, angular features.

Her Innate Magic Tool, the Frostbright Sword, rested quietly beside her pillow. The frosty gleam that typically adorned its blade was now dim and lifeless, emitting a low hum that sounded like a mournful cry.

Sword and master, heart and mind connected.

The dimming sword light signified that the sword master’s spirit and Divine Soul were like candles flickering in the wind.

Shen Zhaoqing slowly walked to the bedside, her throat feeling as if something had lodged within it, dry and constricted.

‘How could she… be so gravely injured?’

It was because of the Soul-Devouring Plague. She was clearly a Sword Cultivator at the Grand Perfection of the Void Return Realm, with a clear sword heart and resilient Divine Soul.

A thought, swift as lightning, streaked across Shen Zhaoqing’s mind.

—’Sword heart.’

Gu Chang’an’s sword heart had long been shaken and unstable because of her.

How could a cracked vessel withstand an omnipresent, virulent poison?

So, in the end… it was still because of her.

Shen Zhaoqing’s gaze fell upon Gu Chang’an’s bloodless, thin lips.

She recalled the blizzards of the Northern Border, the collapse of the secret realm, and how this woman had, time and again, used a body not much broader than her own to shield her.

She also remembered how this woman had confined her with “sect rules,” how she had monitored her every move with cold eyes, and how she had domineeringly declared her to be “my subordinate.”

A control freak, a possessive madwoman, a walking central air conditioner.

Shen Zhaoqing had given her countless unpleasant nicknames in her mind.

She had always felt that her feelings for this senior sister were nothing but annoyance, a desire to avoid her, and a need to keep her at arm’s length.

But now, seeing her in this half-dead state, why… was her heart so heavy? It felt as though someone had stuffed a large wad of wet cotton into her chest, making it so dense and suffocating that she could barely breathe.

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