Chapter 10

The 29th year of Tianfeng.

The 10th day of the ninth month.

On the water route from Jiangzhou to Bozhou lies a mountain called Mount Luojia, at its foot a tributary river named Wujiang River.

A solitary skiff ascended the river against the wind.

There was no boatman rowing; only Lu Fang and Li Yu sat side by side in the cabin, one writing Dream of the Red Chamber, the other silently grinding ink.

After riding in a carriage for nearly two days, Lu Fang’s bones felt as if they’d been shaken apart—thankfully, they had switched to water travel.

“I’ve finally finished Chapter Six.”

The moment Lu Fang set down his brush, Li Yu snatched the still-damp paper and examined it closely.

From the moment Lin Daiyu appeared, Li Yu had fallen for the character; noticing her limited screen time, she had earnestly asked Lu Fang to add more scenes for her.

In the early part of Dream of the Red Chamber, Lin Daiyu’s role was indeed minor.

Adding scenes was out of the question; Lu Fang now worried that when Li Yu reached the part where Lin Daiyu dies, she might come after him for a real-life duel.

“What are you doing? Keep writing!”

Seeing Lu Fang rise, Li Yu urged him urgently.

“Even hanging yourself needs a breath, doesn’t it? You read ten lines at a glance—I’ll die of exhaustion before I can keep up with your pace.”

Lu Fang stretched yawning out of the cabin, gazing far at the landscape like a painted scroll.

Mount Luojia stretched endlessly, its steep peaks towering straight into the clouds, the thick mist clinging to its slopes like a mysterious veil.

The tributary’s “Green Pool” rippled gently; a few pairs of wild ducks drifted afar, birds flapping their wings through the waterweeds.

“Looks like a heavy rain’s coming.”

Lu Fang looked up—the sky was choked with dark, heavy clouds, as if about to collapse; the grass on the banks stood utterly still, not a breath of wind, just like the calm before a storm.

Patter-patter-patter…

Raindrops as big as beans fell, striking the water’s surface and bubbling up—pop! The bubbles burst, sending ripples across the water.

A gale charged in, cold and fierce, churning the once-calm river into rolling waves that rocked the skiff back and forth.

Ahead, in the narrow channel, a violent whirlpool appeared, twisting the river into a bizarre surge several zhang high.

In the blink of an eye, the water coalesced into a transparent “water fox” running across the surface; the towering water fox opened its jaws full of fangs and swallowed the skiff whole.

“What the hell!”

Lu Fang had first thought it was Li Yu’s prank—until he sensed the demonic aura within the “water fox,” then he was already swallowed.

In an instant, he felt as if submerged in water.

A crushing sensation of suffocation hit him—he gasped and swallowed several mouthfuls.

Fortunately, Lu Fang shared a mental link with the Book Spirit; as Yan Chixia appeared, the Yingyue Sword shot out with a hiss, slicing through the surrounding water.

As the water fox dissolved back into the river,

Lu Fang leapt out with the momentum, landing on the water’s surface and steadying himself; he caught a glimpse of the skiff shattered, and Li Yu standing on the water nearby, face grim as she stared upward.

He followed her gaze and saw two demonic beings hovering in midair.

One was a green-robed scholar with eerie “fox eyes.”

The other was a magnificent eagle demon, crowned with twin horns, bearing a pair of wings, and radiating a powerful aura from the “demon wheel” behind his head—all proclaiming his strength and rarity.

Bai Jiaoying crossed his arms, glanced once at Lu Fang and Yan Chixia, then looked down at Li Yu with haughty disdain and said in a low voice:

“You are Li Yu, daughter of Li Mao?”

Before Li Yu could answer, Hu Wei, the Green-Eyed Fox Sage, declared confidently: “No mistake—the portrait matches her.”

Li Yu frowned and shouted loudly: “In the Great Zhou Empire, no demon king above the ninth rank is permitted to appear—violators are executed. Don’t you know that?”

Lu Fang’s heart lurched—he heard “demon king above the ninth rank”?

Could this be any worse?

Clearly the demon king wasn’t after him—he was after Li Yu. What rotten luck.

Bai Jiaoying laughed uproariously, as if hearing the greatest joke: “How absurd! I’m not just here—I intend to torture and kill the daughter of a great Confucian. Who dares stop me?”

Torrential rain poured from the sky, lightning and thunder crackled, turning Bai Jiaoying into a demonic god.

Violent demonic energy surged from him, shooting straight into the heavens.

Without any visible motion, a small wisp of demonic energy transformed into “black feathers” and shot out—not toward Li Yu, but toward Lu Fang.

Clearly, Bai Jiaoying planned to kill Lu Fang, the one with the Book Spirit, before slowly torturing the Confucian’s daughter.

“Watch out!”

Li Yu flashed into a streak of blue light, appearing before Lu Fang.

Vast righteous energy erupted instantly, blocking the barrage of “black feathers”; the immense force hurled both of them over ten zhang away.

“Wind Surge—Speed!”

Using the recoil, Li Yu channeled her righteous energy into a gale, wrapping herself and Lu Fang as they fled farther.

“Still trying to escape?”

Bai Jiaoying’s face twisted with fury; he vanished from his spot, reappearing instantly before Li Yu’s fleeing path.

The gap between them was simply too vast!

Li Yu abruptly halted, spitting out a mouthful of blood—she had been injured resisting Bai Jiaoying’s casual strike, and now, forcing her righteous energy to full power, her wounds worsened.

“Are you alright?”

Lu Fang asked anxiously.

She could have abandoned him and fled alone—but she didn’t. It stirred something deep in his heart.

Li Yu wiped the blood from her lips with her sleeve and shook her head:

“I’m just sorry—I never finished reading your Dream of the Red Chamber. Such a wonderful story should be shared with the world.”

Lu Fang smiled bitterly: “Life always leaves regrets. Next life—I’ll finish writing it for you then.”

Li Yu smiled faintly: “Are you afraid of dying?”

Lu Fang nodded: “Yes.”

Li Yu, taken aback, said: “I’m not afraid either—it’s just death…”

She paused, then stared at Lu Fang in exasperation: “You’re supposed to say you’re not afraid!”

Lu Fang smiled bitterly: “But I really am afraid.”

Silence fell over the scene.

Bai Jiaoying sneered: “Dying and still flirting? Don’t worry—I’ll make you both wish for death, yet be unable to die.”

“Fuck you!”

Lu Fang pointed at Bai Jiaoying and shouted: “You feathered bastard, what are you yapping about? Come catch me if you dare!”

“Qimen Flying Armor!”

The Book Spirit Yan Chixia shot out a golden light that instantly clung to Lu Fang as a dark armor; without hesitation, he bolted.

With the armor on, his speed skyrocketed—in a flash he became a streak of gold, faster even than Li Yu had been when wounded and carrying someone.

Lu Fang’s secret plan was to provoke and lure Bai Jiaoying away, giving Li Yu a chance to escape.

He had once scoffed at self-sacrifice—if anyone had urged him to do such a thing, he’d have cursed them as fools.

Yet today, he had done it—“for no reason.”

It wasn’t that he wasn’t afraid—he simply saw no other option left.