Chapter 853: Xue Yi! To the Rescue!

The corridor shrank in Qingque's retina into a tunnel with no visible end.

Her back pressed against the wall, the cold temperature seeping through the thin knit sweater into her skin, then crawling up her spine segment by segment.

Ten steps ahead, two eyes locked onto her—one azure, one golden—both emitting a faint crimson glow in the dim corridor light, like two deep wells suddenly lit at the same time.

Bai Lu's tiny fists were still held at her chest, her dragon tail swaying slowly behind her, the light‑purple soft hairs at the tip gently brushing the air.

Jing Yuan tilted his head, white hair hanging down one shoulder, his lips moving as he uttered a sticky trailing sound; the exact words were unclear, but the tone tightened the skin on Qingque's head.

Qingque's occiput pressed against the wall.

She moved her lips, wanting to say something—beg for mercy, complain, a dying word—but her throat felt stuffed with cotton, and after a long squeeze only a dry, hoarse whimper emerged.

At that moment!

She heard a crisp sound.

From the other end of the corridor came a sharp metallic clang.

It sounded as if something had struck the wooden railing of the corridor.

Qingque's gaze instinctively angled toward the source, and a white shadow sliced a fierce straight line through the air, its hem fluttering like unfurled wings, breaking out of the shadows at the corridor's end.

The figure then halted abruptly beside Jing Yuan; as one foot landed firmly, the other leg rotated half a circle around the waist, the boot's sole compressing a heavy gust of wind that struck Jing Yuan's side waist with pinpoint precision.

Bang—!

The muffled thud was so heavy it sounded as if someone had smashed a door panel with a fist.

Jing Yuan's body folded into a perfect side‑arch in that instant, his smile on his face not yet faded before the impact turned it into a blurred afterimage.

In the next frame, the Divine Strategy General's whole body had left the ground, flying sideways, his white hair whipping an erratic arc through the air, the collar of his sickbed robe flapped open in the wind, his slippers flew off in different directions mid‑air, and then his entire form crashed into a stack of empty medicine boxes piled along the corridor side.

The cracking of cardboard and bamboo strips burst into a crackle, the debris soaring high; when the dust settled, only Jing Yuan's two legs could be seen protruding from the broken box pile, one foot bare, the toes still twitching slightly.

Qingque's jaw dropped in shock.

What the hell?!!

But before her jaw could hit her chest, the figure had already turned.

The movement had no pause, no extra spin; using the recoil from kicking Jing Yuan, the body's center of gravity pressed forward, and the whole figure almost slid along the ground toward Bai Lu.

Only then did Qingque see the opponent's back: a snow‑white short cross‑collar jacket, teal‑blue trim, and crimson narrow shoulder straps tied into two straight lines at the shoulders.

The black‑backed metal gauntlets on both arms extended forward during the slide, three silver, claw‑shaped metal spikes at the fingertips scraping the air, emitting a faint tearing sound.

Bai Lu reacted faster than Jing Yuan.

Little Dragon Girl, at the moment Jing Yuan was launched, had already adjusted her stance, lowering her two small fists from her chest, stepping her left foot back half a step, her dragon tail snapping straight, the soft hairs at the tip bursting outward.

Her almond eyes locked onto the rushing figure, and from her lips burst a milk‑filled shout, "Ha!"

She lunged forward!

Her aura surged like a dragon!

Her small leather boots made two rapid shuffling steps on the floor; Bai Lu twisted sideways to dodge the forward claws, her right fist hooked upward from her waist, a pale‑purple twisted braid swinging behind her in a crescent.

That punch's angle was tricky and its force considerable; even from afar Qingque could hear the whistling of the fist's wind, yet the figure didn't even try to dodge!

Her left hand's claw tip traced a short arc beside her body, and Bai Lu's fist struck exactly at the apex of that arc; the claw tip and the fleshy knuckle met with a crisp "ding".

Bai Lu's attack was completely deflected, the fist's force dissipating entirely into the air.

And Xue Yi's right hand, in the same instant, rose from below, fingers splayed, gripping Bai Lu's right wrist.

Bai Lu's almond eyes widened.

She opened her mouth to shout, but Xue Yi gave her no chance to voice it.

After seizing the wrist came a clean, swift twist; Bai Lu's forearm was twisted behind her, her body forced to turn half a circle, her toes stumbling two steps on the floor.

The figure's left knee was already pressed up, wedged firmly into Bai Lu's knee pit; Little Dragon Girl's lower leg gave way, and she dropped straight to her knees.

As the knee hit the floor, the girl's hands had already completed the lock; her right hand clutched Bai Lu's wrists behind her back, while her left hand drew a length of iron chain from her waist, the chain snapping a crisp sound in the air, swishing around Bai Lu's wrists and ankles three or four times, the small copper bells at the end jingling twice, and the lock snapped shut with a click.

Silence.

The whole corridor seemed to have its speaker unplugged.

The entire sequence, from kicking Jing Yuan to locking Bai Lu, probably took only as long as Qingque could blink twice.

Qingque leaned her back against the wall, gasping heavily, stray hair on her forehead stuck to her scalp with sweat, the palm‑shaped bruise on her face shining red, the bare foot planted on the icy floor, toes still trembling slightly from the recent sprint.

Her mind had just been looping the "I'm going to die" marquee, now the marquee was paused, and the screen displayed a single bold, enlarged comment: "Good fellow!"

The girl straightened her torso.

After standing upright, she first bowed her head to check the two people on the ground: Bai Lu was bound tightly, cheeks puffed as she struggled, her dragon tail thumped the floor with a "pa‑pa" sound, and Jing Yuan was still buried in the box debris, one bare foot protruding, the toe twitches occasional.

Having confirmed, she turned, facing Qingque, standing straight, the chain at her waist swaying lightly.

Qingque pushed herself up from the wall, legs still trembling, but she could no longer worry about them.

She looked at the expressionless girl before her, at those clear, bright crimson eyes, and the pure, icy‑hardly restrained beautiful face, and the first emotion that rose in her heart was pure gratitude!

It's Xue Yi!

Qingque was stunned for two seconds.

Then, as if her bones had been pulled out, she squeezed the last bit of tension from her lungs and exhaled it cleanly.

"I— I'm saved…"

Her voice was hoarse as if she had just been crying.

She hadn't cried, but she was close to it.

"Xueyi Judge!"

Qingque leaned on the wall and took a step toward Xue Yi, the corner of her mouth involuntarily lifting.

The joy of surviving a calamity!

Her mind raced: Xue Yi, one of the four great Judges of the Ten Kings Office, in charge of pursuit and detention, with top‑notch professionalism, overwhelming combat power, and, crucially, a clear mind and normal speech—she would never act coy toward her nor challenge her to a duel!

More importantly, she was the first normal person she'd met since waking up from the sickroom!

First!