Before his voice could even fade, a clamor erupted within Yunxue Valley.
Not only those of the Nine Saints Hall, but even the disciples of the other two sects stared at Fusheng in utter disbelief.
The Nine Saints Hall was currently in ruins. With this clash between the three major sects, the Tianshu Realm was in utter chaos. This was exactly when they needed someone to hold down the fort—how could he abdicate now?
Zhu Zhao was also stunned. Pausing briefly, she knit her brows slightly before quickly stepping forward to bow and clasp her hands. “Your disciple lacks experience and fears she cannot shoulder the heavy responsibility of Hall Master. Master, please reconsider.”
Fusheng looked at her, his eyes calm. When he spoke, his tone was peaceful yet brooked no room for argument. “The matter is settled. From this day forth, all affairs within and outside the Nine Saints Hall are fully entrusted to your charge. As for the transgressions committed by the Taiqing Pavilion and the Beiyao Sect, you and Xie Zhou will settle them together.”
His gaze swept over the dense crowd before him, his cool voice carrying clearly to all. “Are there any objections?”
The elders, cultivators, and disciples of the Nine Saints Hall finally snapped out of their shock.
Naturally, there were objections.
And they were filled with questions.
Yet the current situation did not seem to allow anyone to say no.
After a brief pause, everyone bowed in unison to Zhu Zhao, their voices rising in a deep, layered chorus. “Greetings, Hall Master!”
Zhu Zhao opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, her master's figure dissolved into clear light, vanishing from the spot in an instant.
“...”
She stared blankly at the empty space where he had stood just a moment ago. Ultimately, she closed her eyes and swallowed all of her unspoken refusals.
When she opened her eyes again, her brow was slightly furrowed, and her gaze had shifted, carrying an immense sense of composure.
She stepped forward slowly to stand before the crowd, issuing orders in a calm, measured voice that naturally carried an imposing authority. “In that case, Second Elder, immediately lift the barrier sealing the Nine Saints Hall's territory, recall all disciples who are currently outside, and take a tally of our casualties.”
“Ninth Elder, round up all remaining cultivators from the Taiqing Pavilion and the Beiyao Sect, place them under strict supervision, and await further sentencing.”
Pausing briefly, she turned her head toward Xie Zhou, who seemed about to leave, and instructed, “The current situation at Black Cloud Mountain remains unknown. Go there and ensure our Fifth Junior Sister is brought back safely. Remember, you must not harbor any personal bias, and you absolutely must not use this as an opportunity to seek personal revenge against her.”
Xie Zhou: “...”
...
Song Yao had already packed up and fled the moment Fusheng appeared.
What a joke.
Even Zhu Zhao and Xie Zhou could easily recognize her identity, so how could her master not?
With his level of cultivation and deep familiarity with her, he would undoubtedly see through her at a single glance.
If she didn't leave now, when would she?
However, having been caught in the crossfire of those powerhouse battles, her body was severely injured and incredibly weak. Just as she managed to reach the spiritual spring on the back mountain, her vision went black, and she plummeted to the ground.
Sleepy.
So sleepy.
After a brief struggle, she gave up entirely. Rolling into the bushes beside the spiritual spring, she decided to just sleep and pass out for a while.
In any case, battles between top-tier experts usually dragged on for a long time—lasting several days and nights was quite common.
Yet her unconsciousness was far from peaceful. Her internal organs spasmed with pain, and before long, her entire body felt as if it were on fire, burning with a fierce heat.
As she tossed and turned in her stupor, a figure suddenly landed not far from her.
Who was it?
Had they come to kill her?
Song Yao struggled to open her eyes to assess the situation, but a sharp pain shot through her mind. Her brow furrowed even tighter, and she couldn't lift her eyelids in the slightest.
She had no choice but to give up and let things take their course.
Whatever.
If they wanted to kill her, so be it.
Dying in the Nine Saints Hall wasn't a bad way to go, either.
However, a slightly cool hand pressed against her forehead.
A soothing, cool spiritual energy flowed from the palm into her brow. It was gentle and serene, slowly spreading through her burning meridians, gradually calming the surging heat and smoothing away the spasms of pain in her chest.
Someone gently brushed aside her blood-stained hair. A familiar, incredibly tender voice echoed beside her ear: “Yao'ao, sleep well. Don't be afraid.”
...
This sleep lasted for a very long time.
In her hazy state, Song Yao felt someone push the door open, enter, and stand by her bed to watch her.
Occasionally, someone would hold her to feed her medicine, or wipe the sweat from her brow when she perspired from the pain.
Sometimes it was two people, sometimes it was one, and sometimes it was a whole group of people.
She couldn't tell who was healing her or who was keeping her company. She would only catch a glimpse of a blurry silhouette before falling back into a deep slumber.
Unable to fully wake, her sleep was fitful, and her dreams were fragmented and disjointed.
One moment, she was dreaming of a raging fire where her parents, on the brink of death, struggled to push her away and told her to run far, far away. The next moment, the head of the orphanage was patting her head, telling her that Yao'ao must study hard, and once she got into a good university, no one would bully her anymore.
The dream shifted. The first few times she picked up a sword, she had displayed an exceptionally outstanding talent. Her master stood beside her, guiding her patiently: “Yao'ao's sword is meant to punish evil and promote good, to protect the common people of the world, isn't it?”
Her Eldest Senior Brother, who had already been tormented by her twice back then, sat to the side and sneered, “Her? Punishing evil and promoting good? You should thank the heavens if she isn't eradicated by someone else.”
Her master silenced him and chased him away, looking expectantly at Zhu Zhao. “Ah Zhao, you praise her.”
Her Second Senior Sister didn't even want to pay her any mind, but still listening to their master, she muttered an impatient “it's fine” before turning and walking away.
Only her Fourth Junior Brother had prepared tea early, standing obediently to the side to hand her water.
Her Fifth Junior Sister, who had just arrived at the Nine Saints Hall back then, hid in the shade of the trees as always, secretly observing her with dark, snake-like eyes.
The dream abruptly ended at the moment she fell while riding her flying sword.
Drenched in sweat, Song Yao finally managed to open her eyes. Staring blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling, she twitched the corners of her lips, wanting to laugh.
Dreams were indeed just dreams.
The first time she rode a flying sword, she had been able to fly over several mountain peaks without ever falling.
Lying there in a daze for a while, she realized something was amiss.
What place was this?
It looked a bit like her room on the main peak, yet it wasn't quite the same.
Wait.
Who won the battle between Master and Ye Chongguang?
Her mind was a muddled mess. As she struggled to sit up, a tightness seized her chest, and she began to cough violently.
With a soft creak, the bedroom door was pushed open from the outside.
Song Yao's heart trembled, and she forcefully suppressed the cough rising in her throat.
Without a second thought, she threw herself back onto the bed, rolled toward the inner side, and closed her eyes tight, pretending to be asleep.
The footsteps were so light they seemed to dissolve into the air. Accompanied by the soft rustle of fabric, they came to a steady halt beside the bed.
A clear, gentle voice spoke calmly: “Get up and drink your medicine.”
Song Yao remained completely still, fully resolved to play dead.
The bedside fell silent for a brief moment before the voice spoke again, its tone slow and laced with a touch of helplessness. “The array core hasn't been opened yet, Yao'ao.”
Song Yao could no longer keep up the act. Burying her face in the blankets, she muttered in a muffled voice, “I'm not Yao'ao. I'm Lin Mu.”
The person beside the bed couldn't seem to help themselves, letting out a very soft chuckle.
This was followed by a long, leisurely sigh. “Very well, Little Lin Mu. Is this how you plan to lie there upon meeting your master for the first time? Are you not going to perform the formal greeting of a disciple?”
Song Yao: “...”
Was he joking with her?
He knew her identity. He knew she had escaped from the Earth Realm. Yet instead of throwing her back there, was he actually playing along with her here?
Rate on N.U.
