Song Yao couldn't help but laugh again.
The Eleventh Elder was a talisman cultivator, yet she was just as righteously indignant and foolishly idealistic as a sword cultivator.
The Nine Saints Hall was full of people like this, only thinking about protecting the cultivators and disciples under them. How could they possibly fight against Feng Qing and Ye Chongguang?
Those two treated their disciples as shields, swords, and consumables.
A bunch of fools.
She walked to the table and asked, “If you want them to play the mantis stalking the cicada and kill each other, there must be an oriole behind them. Who is the oriole?”
She was far too calm, and her question was so natural. She didn't look at all like a young disciple who had been brought here to be comforted and advised. Instead, just like Zhu Zhao, she seemed like someone who had been in the Nine Saints Hall for a long time and could hold her own in a major crisis.
The Second Elder opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Song Yao asked again, “Is it Master?”
“...”
Seeing that they still didn't answer, Song Yao frowned and changed her phrasing. “Is it Fusheng?”
The elders were shocked. “...”
No.
How could this child call the Hall Master by his name so familiarly?
The Second Elder barely snapped out of it. He cleared his throat and was about to speak, but before a single word could escape, the expressions of Zhu Zhao and Xie Zhou beside him changed simultaneously.
The elders gathered around the table instantly shut their mouths and turned their heads in unison. The spiritual energy around them suddenly tensed, and even the night-luminescent pearl seemed to shake under the pressure radiating from afar.
“This is bad.”
“How did Ye Chongguang get here so fast!”
The moment the words left their mouths, Zhu Zhao and several elders blurred into afterimages, vanishing from the wine cellar in an instant.
Xie Zhou grabbed Song Yao, who was trying to steal some wine amidst the chaos, and pushed her toward the Eleventh Elder. His voice was cold. “She'll run off. Keep an eye on her.”
Song Yao, who had grabbed an empty wine cup, was shocked. “Who's going to run off? How can you talk such nonsense?”
No one paid her any attention.
The Eleventh Elder had already swiftly grabbed her wrist. Looking up at Xie Zhou, her expression was solemn. “Go back them up. Be extremely careful.”
Once Xie Zhou left, the Eleventh Elder shielded Song Yao, and they appeared outside the discussion hall in the blink of an eye. Wrapped in talismans, the two of them soared into the air, rushing toward Yunxue Valley.
In a flash, Song Yao landed disheveledly outside a cave at the bottom of Yunxue Valley.
Whistling sounds echoed through the valley as hundreds of sword lights swept in. Young disciples and cultivators from various sects hurriedly landed their flying swords at the entrance of the valley.
With one hand holding Song Yao and spiritual energy flowing in the other, the Eleventh Elder sent rows of golden talismans swirling through the valley while loudly directing and commanding the disciples.
Song Yao was forced to stumble along right behind her. She tried to pull away, but she couldn't break free.
Noticing this, the Eleventh Elder, though frantic and overwhelmed, took a moment to look back and coax her, “Your Fourth Senior Brother told me to watch you. Be good and don't move around.”
Song Yao didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Was she some three-year-old child that she needed to be watched like this?
Catching a glimpse of a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye, she leaned closer to the Eleventh Elder and said, “I really won't run off. I see Ming Ran. Can I stay with her?”
The Eleventh Elder's hands didn't stop moving talismans as she spoke at a rapid-fire pace, “That Ming Ran under the Second Elder?”
“Yes.”
The Eleventh Elder glanced at Song Yao and happened to see Ming Ran, who was organizing disciples to enter the cave not far away.
Ming Ran was a very obedient and well-behaved child. As for Little Seven, she currently looked quite honest and quiet, not seeming nearly as wild as they said.
Since she was indeed a bit too busy to cope, she hesitated for a moment before letting go of Song Yao. “Alright, just stay with Ming Ran and the others. Don't run off. Once the Second Elder and I break the barrier, you'll evacuate with the rest of the disciples.”
Still uneasy, she pulled Song Yao back just as she turned around. “You absolutely must not leave Yunxue Valley, and definitely do not run to the Fuguang Platform. A clash between Deity Transformation Realm cultivators is not something you new little disciples can join in on.”
Song Yao nodded repeatedly and assured her, “Understood, understood. Don't worry, I won't wander off.”
Only then did the Eleventh Elder feel slightly relieved, hurriedly rushing off to find her cultivators to set up the barrier-breaking formation.
Having finally regained her freedom, Song Yao squeezed out of the cave from the bustling crowd and stood to the side, letting out a sigh of relief.
She hadn't realized it before, but now that everyone was gathered here, she found that the Nine Saints Hall actually had quite a lot of people.
Moreover, those present here were likely only a fraction of them.
Ye Chongguang had arrived too suddenly. Another portion of the disciples was controlled by the cultivators of the Beiyao Sect and Taiqing Pavilion, so they probably wouldn't be able to escape so easily.
At a glance, many of the disciples were not even twenty years old. Having experienced so many major events in such a short period, they all looked rather anxious.
Looking up, she saw Ming Ran walking over. Just as Song Yao was about to greet her, several figures suddenly fell straight down from midair.
Her heart tensed. Without time to think, the Bishui Sword unsheathed itself in response.
A clear, cold sword light spread out in front of her, forming a gentle cushion that safely absorbed the downward momentum of the falling cultivators, guiding them to the ground.
Looking down, they were all disciples of the Nine Saints Hall. Each of them was as pale as paper, with dried blood clinging to the corners of their lips, their breathing so weak they were trembling.
“I wondered where everyone had fled to, but it turns out you're all huddled up in this valley.”
A blinding spiritual light enveloped them as a fierce voice suddenly rang out.
Moqi stood suspended in the air, leading a crowd of Beiyao Sect cultivators, casting a dark shadow over Yunxue Valley.
He was holding several other half-dead Nine Saints Hall disciples in his hand. His posture was casual, his tone mocking and laced with a hint of venom. “Now is the time for your lecture. What's this? Do you heretics actually want to rebel?”
Song Yao raised her eyebrows slightly.
Something was off.
From the spiritual energy fluctuations she had felt in the wine cellar earlier, Ye Chongguang had clearly made a move.
But if they had actually started fighting, Moqi shouldn't have the spare time to chase them all the way here.
Strange.
Did those two stabilize again?
Or are they still in the stage of testing each other?
Ming Ran's angry roar pulled her attention back. “Let them go! Resorting to such private torture, do you actually call yourselves an orthodox sect?!”
Moqi glanced at her playfully and tossed them aside, throwing down several more disciples like trash.
This time, Song Yao didn't need to catch anyone. The Eleventh Elder tapped her toes against the ground and swept to the very front in an instant, waving her wide sleeves to catch them and shield them behind her.
Then, protecting everyone like a mother hen with her chicks, she looked up and coldly glared at Moqi in midair, her tone icy. “Yunxue Valley is the territory of the Nine Saints Hall. We can go wherever we please. Elder Mo's hands are reaching a bit too far.”
Hearing this, Moqi couldn't help but curl his lips. “The territory of the Nine Saints Hall?”
He looked down at her disdainfully. “The Eleventh Elder must be mistaken, aren't you? This Yunxue Valley has long since been the territory of our Beiyao Sect.”
These words were far too arrogant. The faces of the Eleventh Elder and the crowd of Nine Saints Hall disciples behind her darkened instantly.
Only Song Yao, leaning on the outermost edge, blinked her eyes. She suddenly turned her head to look at the person beside her, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, yet perfectly audible to everyone. “You heard that, right? I told you, their Beiyao Sect simply doesn't respect your Taiqing Pavilion at all.”
Rate on N.U.
