Chapter 90: with translation of chapter title

I turned back, eyes wide, seeing Leng Zhuoxi not far ahead of Wei Lingfeng, her silver hair stained shocking scarlet, fluttering wildly in the wind; a sharp dagger pierced from her back, bursting out her chest.

Leng Qingya's bleak, blood‑streaked smile mingled with bone‑deep hatred, despair, and pain, trembling slightly.

At that moment I suddenly came to, my mind never having been so clear before.

I clenched my fists and shouted at the two fighting in the empty valley.

"Don't lose focus!!" I shouted while sprinting, repeating my promise, "I will save her."

Yes! This woman, I never wanted to care whether she lived or died, though I had piled up debts I couldn't repay, though I had made the wrong choice, now I regret it yet blame everything on the unaware Qiran.

Only because his veins carry precious, yet lethal blood—what a ridiculous, boring reason.

Fortunately, I rushed to Leng Zhuoxi's side, holding the longsword Bu Sha had just handed me, its blade flashing lightly. With a life‑for‑life feint I easily drove Leng Qingya back, cradling the severely wounded, unconscious Leng Zhuoxi in my arms.

Qiran, I have never felt as grateful as I do now for having come to this world. At least you need not bear this fate alone, for my veins carry the same blood as yours.

Leng Qingya's eyes flashed with ferocious hatred, naked jealousy. I don't know what she envies, but I know her jealousy has nothing to do with me. I strained to lay the person in my arms on the ground, while Bu Sha flashed like a shadow and took Leng Zhuoxi away.

Qiran, fortunately, I'm still here.

I pointed my sword to the ground, facing Leng Qingya calmly. I had only exchanged three moves with her. Three moves, two clashes, her yin‑like powerful internal force left my hands still sore and my body chilled, unable to fully ease the ache even now.

Leng Qingya's surging emotions settled, turning into a faint cold smile and undisguised killing intent.

I could see her opening and closing lips utter, "Making them suffer, killing you, is not the simplest method."

I could hear the tense clash of weapons behind me, and Qiran's panicked voice, "Bingyi, get away quickly!"

I bitterly smiled inside, Qiran, if I could escape now I surely would. I thrust my sword forward, the second move of the Wanderer's Sword Art, Swimming Dragon Submerges. Applying what you learn is good, but it shouldn't be this hard in the first live drill!

A black shadow flashed before me, taking the blow meant for my left shoulder. Bu Sha staggered a step, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, yet he did not retreat but stepped closer.

"Bu Sha!! You bastard!" I stomped hard, flung my longsword aside, and drew the Jue Si.

This clueless bastard, does he not know his own condition? I drew the Jue Si, planted my left foot, tapped my right, ready to act, but suddenly froze in shock.

Leng Qingya's eyes showed surprise and gravity; her swordplay lost its former fluid grace, a faint sheen of sweat on her brow.

Even I felt an unexpected delight: after Bu Sha retracted his clashing blade, he seemed to lose consciousness, relying only on reflexes. His movements were plain and unadorned, his strikes weak and slow, yet each step he took made it hard for Leng Qingya to continue her offense, and each thrust forced her to withdraw her blade to defend herself.

Suddenly I recalled a martial art mentioned in a wuxia novel—Yi Jian Shu: wielding a sword is like playing chess, each thrust like placing a piece, the battlefield a living board, ever‑changing; if you cannot grasp the whole picture and anticipate the opponent's next move, you cannot seize the chance to win.

Bu Sha actually managed to grasp this realm on his own. I couldn't help but smile faintly; I had worried about him since his injury, but now I needn't. He is far tougher than I and Qiran imagined.

I sheathed the Jue Si and quickly walked to Leng Zhuoxi's side.

Her internal force was surprisingly robust, so though this blow was heavy, it posed no immediate threat to her life.

Merely her viscera were gravely wounded; I simply treated her wound to prevent deterioration and endangerment of life, then shoved a specially made pill from Qiran into her mouth.

Since the day Bu Sha and I were ambushed, Qiran has often prepared improved special‑effect medicines for us to carry, just in case.

I raised my sword and hurried back to the battlefield. I know Bu Sha's internal force is now completely gone; such fighting can shake Leng Qingya momentarily, but it cannot hold out long.

"Bu Sha!" I swept his blade aside, forcing him out of the stance circle, seeing his cold expression, I hurriedly whispered, "Qiran's injury will worsen if you hold out—go help him quickly."

Those words indeed worked better than any obstruction. Bu Sha's eyes flickered with worry; he gave me a deep look and turned away.

These words were no empty talk. I had just seen Qiran's chest bleeding ever more darkly scarlet, his face deathly pale. Had I not known that facing Xiao Yifei, my amateur swordsmanship would only hinder, I would have rushed over heedless of everything.

As for Wei Lingfeng, thanks to Wu Ye's help, he was barely managing a stalemate.

The flashing blades and swordlights in this fairy‑like valley brimmed with killing intent, conspiracies running rampant.

I staggered back a step, shrinking my defensive circle. Jue—only works at close range to exert its full effect; otherwise both sides could easily end up mutually wounded.

So I waited, waiting for Leng Qingya to enter my attack range.

My defensive circle tightened again; I focused slightly, awaiting the final moment. Leng Qingya faced me, her face full of killing intent, yet she suddenly wore an exceedingly strange smile.

Then, as I stared dumbstruck at her lovely yet ruthless smile, the sword she had aimed at me suddenly withdrew, like an arrow, striking straight—at the unconscious Leng Zhuoxi on the ground!

TMD!! I cursed in my heart a hundred times the woman on the ground who ruined my whole scheme and only caused trouble, yet I had no choice but to roll aside, barely blocking Leng Qingya's killing move.

Leng Qingya's smile grew wider, the strangeness deeper. My heart jolted; I heard the clash of weapons from another battlefield nearby, and saw her withdraw her sword, then slowly thrust it toward me.

My body, however, froze at that instant, unable to move or dodge even a fraction.

Leng Qingya, how ruthless! Just now she would rather suffer internal recoil, using her inner force to invade my meridians, cutting off my blood flow in a short time.

Severing the blood vessels is different from sealing acupoints; prolonged blockage would kill from circulatory failure, yet precisely because of that, the blockage can last no more than half a minute. But the problem is, we don't even need half a minute—just five seconds and Leng Qingya's sword will pierce my heart.

"Bingyi——" I heard Qiran and someone else cry out in alarm, then it sounded as if my body had been struck and I spat blood.

My heart clenched painfully; I knew Qiran, distracted, had finally been wounded by Xiao Yifei.

I desperately wanted to shift my body to dodge that sword, but I couldn't move an inch, nor even utter a sound.

I let out a long sigh, thinking, I'm doomed! It's a pathetic death, but Leng Qingya, once my blood flow returns, I'll surely drag you down with me. I cursed, watching the sword pierce my body…

It didn't enter! No, I'm not dead!

As I was held and rolled, my mind went blank—I didn't know what I was thinking, nor what I should think, strange that I hadn't had a near‑death realization at the gates of hell. Until…… warm blood trickled down my neck, over the collarbone, into my body……

In matters of the heart I am truly slow. Only much later did I realize, or rather admit, that it might not be slowness but my avoidance of feelings, selfishly discarding, burying, or even twisting those emotions I refuse to accept, shackling them with any excuse—like friendship.

I stared blankly at that handsome face before me, pale lips, crimson blood, black eyes, calm and composed. I pressed my lips, widened my sore eyes, and murmured, "Wei Lingfeng…" wanting to ask why, wanting to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, but…

A cold gleam flashed; my body was suddenly flung out, landing on the soft grass where I rolled uncontrollably a few times.

I lay on my back, looking up, seeing Wei Lingfeng straining to block the charging Tianjun Ao, while Wu Ye entangled him. Then Leng Qingya fixed her gaze on his face, her longing turning into ferocious hatred; she raised her sword high overhead, bearing a grudge of ages, and thrust straight down at Wei Lingfeng, who could still not draw his blade to defend himself.

That force—Stone Breaking Heaven startled! That momentum—like Mount Tai pressing down. When pity turns to hatred, it is a grudge that harms both self and others; when deep love turns to despair, it is a massacre that destroys heaven and earth.

Leng Qingya, that's exactly what she did—she thrust her sword toward the grass under the sunlight, at the one who made her dazed and bewildered…

"Boom!!" A tremendous sound, as if shaking heaven and earth, echoed through the valley; everyone ceased fighting, dazed and silent, gazing at what lay before them.

Leng Qingya's sword‑holding hand remained aloft, yet her face gradually showed a strained, bewildered expression.

She slowly, slowly lowered her head, fixing her hopeless, unwilling, incredulous gaze on her chest. That small hole from which blood kept seeping, over and over.

I clutched the handgun I had long forgotten; my body went limp and I collapsed onto the ground, the backs of my hands touching the grass tips and icy, soaked clothing.

No hope. I exhaled a long breath, gazing at the faint sky and sunlight visible through the rock crevice; the shouts and running sounds fading from my ears. My breath felt like it would settle, drifting out, then gently settling back on my face.

No one knows better than I do—right in the heart! I gripped the cold handgun in my hand, then silently repeated in my heart: Leng Qingya, truly there's no saving her.

The gun was still gripped in my hand; Qiran pulled me up from the grass, my whole body drenched in sweat, I couldn't help but feel my limbs go weak, shivering with cold.

Waves of sharp pain came from my chest; in the end, it was simply that my internal energy had been exhausted.

In a daze, I felt Qiran holding me in his arms; his breath lightly touched my face, my skin, the strong smell of blood, like it had taken root, lingering in my nose and mind.

I couldn't make out what Qiran was saying to me for a moment; I just nervously clutched his collar, my hand covered in blood, and murmured, "Qiran, are you hurt?"

Qiran reached out and gently patted my cheek; after a while, my eyes finally met his pale face, and I felt as if I were seeing him again after a lifetime, unable to hold back tears welling in my eyes.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Qiran seemed to sigh in relief, his eyes holding a deep, gentle tenderness like blue sky and sea, and he lightly drew me into his embrace.

I leaned contentedly into Qiran's embrace, vaguely sensing that I had forgotten something important; then my gaze, past Qiran's shoulder, fell upon the tall figure in the moon-white long robe.

Wei Lingfeng's complexion was even paler than Qiran's, a faint trace of blood still uncleaned at the corner of his mouth, accentuating his unusually handsome white from head to toe, strikingly ghastly.

His gaze, through eyes as dark and heavy as night, fixed steadily on me and Qiran. My whole body shuddered, my heart beating uncontrollably, throbbing to the point of numb ache in my chest. What kind of eyes are those!

There was no deep affection like the sea, not even profound sorrow; yet it was that unfathomable calm, seeming able to swallow everything, that sent waves of panic through my heart.

I had never truly understood this emperor before me, but I clearly knew that such an expression, such resolve, only appeared when he had suffered great harm, used to conceal himself.

I feared that expression, and even more the unpredictable actions behind it.

"Qingya… Qingya…" Xiao Yifei's low, increasingly hoarse voice suddenly flooded my ears; my gaze drifted and landed on the lifeless Leng Qingya.

She trembled, clutching Xiao Yifei's hand, her dry, blood-seeping lips vividly trembling as she tried to utter a word, but could not make a sound.

Xiao Yifei's eyes turned red as he seized her slender, fair hand, his voice trembling: "Qingya, Qingya, rest assured, I swear I will fulfill your wish! Qingya…"

"Pfft—" Leng Qingya spat out a mouthful of blood; the bright red half splashed onto Xiao Yifei, half onto his face.

Yet on her face a cruel, cold-blooded smile slowly appeared; in Xiao Yifei's embrace, she closed her eyes and passed away.

Time, breeze, and dust in the valley seemed to freeze in an instant.

Then it turned into an intangible pressure that enveloped me; I couldn't even raise my gun, let alone stand.

Xiao Yifei's icy voice, like an asura from hell, rang in my ears—no, it seemed to sound only at my ear: "If you dare kill Qingya, think clearly what price you and those you care about must pay. Death—, neither alive nor dead, or… worse than death!!"

"Pfft—!" I spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, then my body flew sideways, yet landed softly.

Qiran, Bu Sha, and Wei Lingfeng all stood before me, their faces grave and solemn.

The wind carrying sand and stone was bitterly cold; the stone door through which Xiao Yifei had entered suddenly flung open, and I saw in horror dozens of black-clad figures, faces covered, moving in perfect unison as they filed in, instantly surrounding us.

Will we die here? No! I absolutely refuse! Ignoring the pain all over my body, I summoned my internal energy to resist the terrifying killing intent, then violently raised the hand holding the gun and shouted, "Qiran? Catch!!"

The dark, gleaming pistol arced through the air, flying into Qiran's outstretched slender fingers. Qiran is a genius; even having seen me demonstrate it only once, I believe he will surely use this pistol correctly, perhaps even more smoothly than I.

Indeed, he didn't pause for a moment; he turned, raised the gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger in haste.

"Boom—" The loud report echoed again in the valley, a flash of bloody red crossing my vision.

I didn't even have time to see who was hurt before a suffocating sharp pain struck my chest; a pair of large hands clamped tightly around my throat. Xiao Yifei's freed hands were held flat in the air, slightly loosened.

I stared in shock as Leng Qingya's frail, blood-stained body slowly collapsed to the ground. On her were two small holes; one had already clotted, the other still oozing blood steadily.

He gave me a cold smile; I met his gaze, and a chill ran down my spine.

If when he first entered his eyes still held a trace of human warmth, now he was devoid of any feeling whatsoever. That gaze, that scornful smile, seemed to harbor neither hatred nor contempt, only senseless destruction and slaughter.

Suddenly a word came to mind—flaw.

It turned out that Leng Qingya was Xiao Yifei's flaw, the proof of his emotions. Yet my shot destroyed all his feelings and erased his sole flaw at once.

Yet even in such despair, a voice still cried out in my heart: I want to live, I must live on. Living… with Qiran by my side, living… to witness the rises and falls of this once-strange world.

He gave me a cold smile, the hand gripping my throat tightening further: "Do you think the same method can work twice?"

"No!!" a terrified shout came from opposite, but it wavered, and no one dared step forward.

I grabbed his right hand that was choking me with both hands, instinctively trying to pry it open; my face turned purple-blue, my heart pounding as if it would burst from my chest.

My breath was drawn away; my consciousness was about to fade.

My body suddenly twisted violently; my arm felt a burning, intense friction-like pain, and I faintly heard the sound of a bullet whizzing past nearby.

Before me it was pitch black, dark as could be. What I heard in my ears was already muffled and unclear. Yet the voice shouting in my heart grew louder: I want to live, I want to live, I must live on!

With the last vestiges of my will and strength, I seized Xiao Yifei's hand; my left hand followed silently.

My eyes lost focus, I could see nothing; my mind was hazy and dark, unable to think. All I could do was plead, Dad, Brother, please bless me, bless me to survive in this strange world.

I pressed the ruby button.

"Hiss——" a sound so faint it was almost inaudible, yet like a roar, brushed past my ear.

Then I felt a sudden pain in my throat, a bitter smile in my heart—still I had failed—and instantly lost consciousness.

(End of chapter)