Chapter 137: Besieged on All Sides

Behind them, the bone‑chilling pressure that made their bones ache surged back, locking onto them.

It clung like a plaster stuck to their skin, impossible to shake off.

But thanks to the pair's use of the twisting terrain and breakneck speed, they managed to open a small gap, barely escaping the lock.

They dared not stop, weaving seven turns and eight twists through the maze‑like alleys.

They ran until they could no longer sense that terrifying presence behind them, then halted in a deserted, pitch‑dark corner.

Leaning against the icy wall, they gasped heavily.

Their souls still unsettled, Zhang Jun instinctively reached into his bosom.

The bronze shard was now emitting a noticeable warmth, stronger than before.

Beside him, Lin Xue frowned, pressing her hand against the azure crystal in her pocket.

The stone also pulsed weakly but continuously.

These two fragments seemed to have developed a deeper, indescribable resonance with the gray‑robed old man just encountered, or perhaps with the secret‑laden courtyard itself.

Both could clearly feel it.

In the direction of the inn, the hidden Qin and Zhou clan scouts' auras, which had been lying low, suddenly surged several times stronger.

Each one sprang to life, panicked as if having received a deadly order, rapidly tightening the encirclement.

Zhang Jun clenched the slightly warm bronze shard in his pocket.

The icy, rough bricks dug into his back, his lungs burned, and his ragged breaths echoed in the trash‑filled dead‑end. The gray‑robed old man's pressure, heavy as a block of ice, still weighed on his chest, refusing to ease.

That old coot's strength was off the charts.

Zhang Jun's chest still heaved violently; his hand instinctively pressed to his bosom. The bronze shard he'd taken from Pan Family Garden was scalding hot, almost burning through his clothes, throbbing and buzzing with a violent intensity he'd never felt.

Beside him, Lin Xue was no better, likewise pressing her pocket. The azure crystal also went mad, its pulse transmitting clearly through the fabric, rapid and urgent like a small drum beating in her palm.

The two fragments, as if thoroughly awakened by that old man, surged their mutual pull to a peak. No longer vague pointers, they now roared in their minds, desperately pointing to one spot—the east alley of White Pagoda Temple, the ghoulish place they had just crawled out of, barely alive.

Going back is impossible; returning now would be handing over their heads.

Almost as the fragments went berserk, both sensed another danger rapidly approaching from afar.

The direction of the inn.

Several previously concealed auras suddenly sprang to life, sharp and swift, openly locking onto this area like an invisible net drawing tight from all sides—Qin clan men, Zhou Qian's men, and perhaps even deeper‑hidden spies.

Exposed completely, they'd become Tang Sanzang's meat. Zhang Jun cursed under his breath.

His mind flashed with the eerie glyphs from the stone chamber, Liu San Ye's shattered black jar, Zhou Qian's sinister corpse‑refining technique, Qin Yueyao's half‑true half‑false intel, and that unfathomable gray‑robed old man—all the clues tangled into a knot, its rope tied tight to the deepest part of the ruined courtyard.

First, they must break out of this encirclement.

He glanced at Lin Xue; their eyes met in the gloom, wordless and perfectly in sync. Zhang Jun's finger subtly pointed deeper into the alley toward a direction linked to the White Pagoda Temple and the inn, making a covert sign only they understood.

Both lowered their bodies like wind‑blown rags, sinking into deeper darkness. After a couple steps, Zhang Jun flicked off his coat, reversed it, and pressed his hat lower; Lin Xue quickly smoothed her hair, altering their gait and rhythm. Using the twisting alleys and wall shadows, they slipped forward soundlessly.

Passing a still‑bustling night‑snack stall, Zhang Jun deliberately slipped, knocking over a beer bottle with a crisp "clang," accompanied by a few curses, briefly drawing the gaze of several hidden onlookers away.

As they passed through a narrow alley where only one could sidestep, Lin Xue's steps halted abruptly, her body tensing like iron.

A chilling, needle‑prick‑like malicious sensation, like a slick venomous snake, silently coiled around her. It felt nothing like the gray‑robed old man's mountain‑like pressure; it was more concealed, more crafty, sending a familiar chill up from her marrow.

It felt like something that had repeatedly appeared in a nightmare long ago.

She said nothing, merely gripping Zhang Jun's arm tighter, nails almost biting into his flesh. Her feet sped up, almost hovering above the ground.

After another seven or eight turns, they shook off the pursuers completely, then slipped into a deserted‑looking old apartment building. They produced a key and turned the lock on a peeling door.

Inside lay dust and mildew. Simple tables and chairs were thickly coated in grime. This was the most inconspicuous of the safe houses they'd prepared in advance.

The door clicked shut and locked silently behind them, at last sealing off the outside clamor and killing intent.

Lin Xue felt drained, her back against the cold door as she slowly slid to the floor, gulping air, trying to calm the heart threatening to burst from her chest. She instinctively lifted her hand to press her chest.

Her fingertips, however, accidentally brushed against another hard little object hidden beneath her clothing.

It was not the azure crystal.

It was another item, a small trinket she had nearly forgotten but always kept close.

At the instant her fingertip touched it, a faint yet unusually clear warmth surged from the trinket like a thin electric current, instantly clearing the chaotic, icy, bloody memory fragments in her mind.

No longer an altar, nor a stone chamber.

It was water.

A pitch‑black, bone‑chilling pool lay still as black glass, its surface reflecting a few dim lights on the shore—perhaps lanterns? Hung with some special marker she seemed to have seen elsewhere…!

Lin Xue's eyes flew open, pupils snapping shut, her hand clutching tightly to the object before her chest that had brought the unexpected warmth.