Chapter 871: The Road to Protecting the Blade

Chapter 871: The Path of Guarding the Blade

In truth, the resentment-filled sisters had reached a consensus many times over the years: once he woke up, they would leave him out in the cold. He would have to beg before any intimacy was granted, and whoever threw themselves at him first was a dog.

Piaomiao naturally did not want to be a laughingstock... She had originally thought she could easily maintain her distance and make him beg on his knees.

But only upon meeting did she realize that the longing suppressed for thirty years rushed forth like a tidal wave; how could her heart truly remain as still as a placid lake? Though she maintained her distance with a cold face, who knew how much she actually wanted to fling herself into his arms and kiss him fiercely.

Seeing Zhao Changhe’s utterly frustrated expression, Piaomiao remained expressionless, thinking to herself: *Why don't you just utter some sweet nothings and beg on your knees? Then I would yield with half-feigned reluctance... What do you mean you don't want Yangyang to sense it? That's just an excuse. Even if Yangyang did sense it, so what? What's the big deal... Besides, after all these years, the two of us haven't been sitting around eating for nothing. We figured out how to block each other's perception long ago, and only this foolish man remains in the dark.*

Zhao Changhe had also only recently awakened, his mind entirely occupied by the global situation, and his thoughts had not yet turned to the finer details. Sitting there dryly for a few seconds, he finally began to ease back into a romantic state of mind. Seeing Piaomiao keeping a tense face, neither speaking nor leaving, how could he not know what his wife was thinking? He immediately leaned in close: "Miaomiao~"

Piaomiao dry-heaved slightly: "What did you call me?"

"There always needs to be an intimate moniker. For ordinary people, dropping the surname is intimate enough, but since you have no surname, I must naturally find another term of endearment. I can't just call you Piaomiao so stiffly, it sounds too distant..."

"But the way you say it makes it sound like my surname is Piao." Piaomiao said with a stiff face, "Save that routine. You hadn't seen such disgusting ploys before you fell into your deep sleep; how did you become so sickening upon waking?"

"That's because we didn't have much time to bill and coo before." Zhao Changhe whispered, "It's my fault..."

Piaomiao fell silent.

Strictly speaking, it could not be blamed on him. The things they faced carried immense pressure; with cultivation, grand designs, and plotting, there really had not been much time for doting affection. It was just that a large portion of that time had been spent whispering sweet nothings to Ye Jiuyou. Thinking back on this indeed left a bitter taste in Piaomiao's mouth. Back then, she had only just started seeing him before he turned around to woo someone else.

Yet she knew that winning over Ye Jiuyou at the time was of paramount importance. If Ye Jiuyou had been an enemy in that battle, a quick deduction showed how difficult it would have been to fight; let alone repelling the enemy invisibly, heavy casualties could certainly be expected. Piaomiao naturally would not say anything about it, but hearing Zhao Changhe abruptly admit his mistake still brought a touch of a sigh to her lips.

She sighed, leaning gently against Zhao Changhe’s shoulder, and murmured, "Time was tight then... But as you said... we still have plenty of time ahead. As long as your heart remains unchanged, then it is nothing."

Zhao Changhe gently put his arm around her shoulder: "To me, it was but a single sleep and awakening, but I was afraid that with thirty years gone by, you all would have forgotten me..."

Piaomiao said with a stern face, "Is that how you view us?"

Zhao Changhe pouted his lips to kiss her: "Otherwise, why won't you let me touch you..."

So *this* was what he was waiting for? Piaomiao promptly blocked his pig-like snout and sneered, "Never mind that thirty years is but an instant to me, even if it were as long as thirty epochs, what of it? What kind of person do you take me, Piaomiao, for?"

Zhao Changhe began to act spoiled: "But you ignored me... I was scared..."

As he spoke, he directly pouted and pecked the jade-like hand blocking his way: "Only this makes me feel a bit more secure."

Piaomiao was both exasperated and amused: "Is this thick-skinned, shameless behavior how you pursued Jiuyou?"

Zhao Changhe said with a brazen face, "This is how I pursued you..."

"Get lost." Piaomiao pushed his face away, "Don't act like a rogue with me!"

In reality, Zhao Changhe could completely feel the trembling of her hand—it was clearly a soft, powerless push that would collapse at a touch, and he was well aware of it. He quickly caught her slender hand and asked softly, "So, how do you want me to address you?"

Piaomiao pulled her hand, failing to break free for a moment, so she said stiffly, "Naturally just Piaomiao. I am not accustomed to being called anything else, nor do I need any nickname. Let... let go... I am going to use force!"

Zhao Changhe held fast and refused to let go: "To say you have no surname is not entirely true... Since you have followed me, in this life you shall naturally bear my surname."

Piaomiao's heart involuntarily skipped a beat: "You..."

The moment the word left her lips, a great force surged from her hand, and she was instantly pulled into his embrace and held tightly: "Don't struggle, let me hold you... I missed you so much..."

Piaomiao felt all her strength drain away, her entire body turning soft. His sweet talk made her heart tingle, and the scent on his body was so familiar and pleasant, even more alluring than before. Because this time, his body had also been forged using a large amount of the same lotus dais as hers, allowing them to stimulate each other's instinctive passions.

He was becoming more and more of a scoundrel.

Panting slightly, she pushed against Zhao Changhe's chest and said with difficulty, "Don't expect that a bit of pestering like this will make me forgive you. Give me something practical."

Zhao Changhe said, "How about I capture Ye Wuming for you to deal with?"

Piaomiao froze for a moment, then suddenly showed a sliver of a smile: "Alright. Then wait until that day comes before you touch me. For now, stay far away."

Zhao Changhe: "..."

Far away in the Night Palace, Ye Wuming held a book and muttered softly to herself, "Serves you right. Just you wait."

Looking at the awakened Zhao Changhe, Ye Wuming's face bore no expression, but her heart felt an inexplicable, slight panic.

Now, from Zhao Changhe to the entire faction around him, basically everyone openly placed "storming the Night Palace and capturing the wretched blind woman" as their strategic goal. She, Ye Wuming, still did not know how to respond. If she were to take advantage of Zhao Changhe's slumber to destroy them one by one and clean up those women, she couldn't bring herself to do it, nor did she want the Heavenly Dao to reap the benefits. It seemed she could only huddle in a corner and wait for others to attack, and the only thing she could actually do was see how she could stop Zhao Changhe from connecting with the Starry River.

A grandmaster who had plotted for two epochs, taking the Heavenly Dao as an enemy and all living beings as chess pieces—how had she ended up in such a state...

Even her minor curse of "Serves you right, just you wait" failed to succeed, because Zhao Changhe had already kissed her.

Piaomiao resisted with half-feigned reluctance, but she could not block the surging emotions in her own heart at all. Before long, she was kissed on the lips by the man, her defensive line instantly collapsing and falling, leaving only a muffled murmur: "You haven't completed it yet, how can you kiss me..."

Ye Wuming: "..."

Not only was he kissing, but his hands were also moving. Any further and her sash would be untied. And you call yourself the God of Mountains and Rivers? Truly useless, defeated by two simple bouts of pestering from someone. How are you supposed to guard the land like this?

Ye Wuming inexplicably wanted to cause some sabotage. Her eyes darted around, and her divine sense landed on Ling Yueyu, who was currently sailing south to recover from her injuries, revealing a long-absent, demonic smile.

Let's see you try to capture me.

"Swish, swish, swish!" A grappling hook latched onto the ship's edge, and a man's silhouette swiftly boarded from the shore: "Miss Ling, please step out of the cabin for a chat."

Ling Yueyu, who had finally found a quiet atmosphere to nurse her wounds and recover, had not even rested for the duration of an incense stick before being disturbed. Harboring a stomach full of anger, she walked out of the cabin with her sword in hand.

She had been injured for so long without a proper chance to recuperate; what kind of trouble was brewing now? Would it kill them to let someone get a good night's sleep... Speaking of which, she had deliberately done the opposite and headed south, so how could anyone still know she was on this ship? Was there a traitor?

Stepping out of the cabin, she saw an exceptionally handsome man standing before her, holding his sword inverted as he cupped his hands: "Long Haoyang greets Miss Ling."

"It's you..." Ling Yueyu was truly exhausted to the bone, saying wearily, "Young Master Long, boarding the ship in the middle of the night, what guidance do you have?"

"It was merely a sudden whim. I thought that everyone believes Miss Ling would head north to the capital, and that a dragnet has been cast in the north, so why would Miss Ling walk right into it? Perhaps you would head south instead... I tried traveling south, saw a night boat, spoke out to test it, and sure enough, you are here."

Ling Yueyu: "..."

Even if you guessed I might head south, you wouldn't necessarily think of taking a boat; even if you were certain it must be a boat, this southbound night vessel wasn't the only one. How did you get it right on the first try? Could your luck truly be that good?

The young maiden's sword-heart was sharp, and she suddenly felt a taste of being arranged by fate in the dark, a sensation Zhao Changhe had once experienced. It seemed a thread of destiny had been maliciously plucked by someone.

This Long Haoyang was not to be trifled with. Though he looked decent and possessed an elegant bearing, he was a textbook figure of the underworld. The Demon Suppressing Bureau had been secretly investigating their involvement in smuggling private salt and other contraband for quite some time, though they currently lacked evidence. But his appearance here was evidence enough, because he could only have come for the Holy Blade. Those coveting the Dragon Sparrow Holy Blade were certainly more than one faction, but without a doubt, they were all villains. What decent person would dare...

This man was ranked sixty-seventh on the Human Roll of the Ranking of a Chaotic World, at the First Layer of the Secret Realm. If she were in top condition, this would instead be a challenge she had once dreamed of; perhaps she could break through her realm in one battle and replace his rank. But now, burdened with both injuries and fatigue, how was she to cope?

No matter how difficult, she had to face it. This was the Grand Canal, and there was nowhere to run.

Ling Yueyu slowly drew her sword, pointing it from afar at Long Haoyang: "Since I am here, what does Young Master Long intend to do?"

Long Haoyang looked at the large door-plank wrapped in thick cloth behind the young maiden. Even though this girl had long legs and was quite tall, the blade was still nearly as tall as she was, which looked like quite a striking contrast. Long Haoyang could not help but smile: "Miss is injured. Do you truly intend to cross swords with me while carrying such a massive blade? I think it would be better to hand over the Holy Blade. I shall let it encumber me a bit, which would instead make us more evenly matched."

Before Ling Yueyu could answer, the door-plank behind her voiced its protest: "Who is an encumbrance!"

Long Haoyang laughed: "As expected, the Holy Blade is sentient. But at this very moment, does Miss dare to utilize the power of the Holy Blade?"

If the Dragon Sparrow killed another on the Human Roll, and the Chronicle of a Chaotic World broadcasted it again, Ling Yueyu's whereabouts would once more be known to the entire world, making her subsequent steps truly fraught with difficulty. Even if she didn't kill, the distinctive energy of the Dragon Sparrow alone was very easy to attract the attention of others.

Ling Yueyu smiled radiantly: "Young Master looks decent enough, so why is your brain so dysfunctional?"

Long Haoyang: "?"

"No matter what consequences follow after I use the power of the Holy Blade, you will certainly die before me, whereas I may not necessarily be besieged to death. Since you aren't afraid of your impending death, what do I have to fear?" As Ling Yueyu spoke, she made a motion as if to draw the blade.

The Dragon Sparrow leaped with joy: "Draw me, draw me!"

Long Haoyang broke into a cold sweat. He was merely the one taking the first step; a large number of gang members would follow later. He did not want to fight to the death with this madwoman right away. Hearing this, he immediately said, "Why go to such lengths? How about you and I wager a match?"

"How shall we wager?"

"I shall compete in swordsmanship with Miss. If Miss wins, our Huai Salt Gang will immediately withdraw from this contention for the Holy Blade and never appear again. If Miss loses, this blade shall be handed over to us for safekeeping, having nothing more to do with Miss. What do you think?"

This was a blatant attempt to bully Ling Yueyu while she was currently injured... Yet Ling Yueyu's sword intent rose grandly instead: "Very well."

This man's arrival on the ship appeared to be an accident, and outsiders still did not know she had headed south. Rather than fighting again until the whole world knew, it would be better if a wager could truly make him retreat, leaving her free of worries from then on.

Even if this battle proves arduous... my master said, the sword-heart must charge forward without fear. Overcome the challenge, and the path lies open.

“Clang!”

Long Haoyang’s sword moved like a swimming dragon, engaging in a mobile fight, exploiting the fact that Ling Ruoyu carried such a heavy blade and could not maneuver freely. In truth, the blade weighed nothing on her back, but she feigned strain as she parried and blocked, watching coldly for her moment.

With a “clang,” Ling Ruoyu parried a thrust and was about to counter when a sharp pain stabbed beneath her ribs—her prior injury hindered her, and the return stroke faltered.

The girl, having missed her chance, staggered back, a fresh gash added to her arm.

A pity... had she been unwounded, Ling Ruoyu was eighty percent sure she could win this fight across ranks—a pity...

Meanwhile, Zhao Changhe was embracing Piaomiao in intimacy, having barely coaxed her into loosening her belt, when a sudden alarm flared in his heart.

He was not so idle as to constantly spy on the world; the information came from the bond between Longque and its master: his little disciple was in trouble.

Piaomiao, still dazed, also sensed it. She pressed down on Zhao Changhe’s wandering hand and whispered, “Hongling’s disciple is in trouble. She is closely tied to the future veins of the land; I must lend a hand.”

Zhao Changhe shook his head. “Let me go. Someone is tugging at fate’s threads, stirring trouble for me... If they don’t tear us apart, this will never end.”

Piaomiao’s face flushed with anger. “Ye Wuming?”

“...Yes, only Ye Wuming could do this.” Zhao Changhe raised a middle finger to the sky. “If you won’t let me be intimate with my wife, why not come yourself?”

The heavens remained silent, with no reply.

Zhao Changhe had already vanished from the spot.

Piaomiao furiously sent a message across heaven and earth: “Jiuyou, where are you? Meet me—I have matters to discuss!”

Ye Jiuyou, busy with something unknown, paused for a moment before replying directly to her soul: “For you to be this angry, who has such great skill?”

“In two lifetimes, I have only one enemy—and now it’s the same!”

“What a coincidence. So do I. Come to me—I’ll show you something good.”

Ling Ruoyu retreated again, forced by Long Haoyang’s sword to the ship’s edge. She silently calculated his sword path, thinking of using the door-like blade on her back to block a strike and seize a chance for a counter-kill.

Suddenly, a thought transmission echoed in her mind: “Judging by your footwork, are you planning to block with the Longque on your back while reversing the blade to strike his ribs?”

Ling Ruoyu: “?”

That voice was familiar—was it the ancient demon god from before?

“The plan is not bad, but it may not secure a kill, and the impact will send you into the water. Once you fall, look at the boat behind you.”

Only then did Ling Ruoyu notice a vessel closing in from the rear; if she fell, a volley of arrows would send her to meet her ancestors.

“Listen to me,” the demon god’s voice continued. “Make the turn a feint; instead, sidestep and use ‘Clouds Across Qinling.’”

Clouds Across Qinling—one of the sword techniques of the Sunset Villa, the sect skill Yue Hongling used before she inherited the Sword Emperor’s will.

Ling Ruoyu had no time to wonder how this elder knew the sword art of a destroyed sect. Her body moved faster than thought: she faked the turn, then sidestepped, sweeping her sword horizontally.

Long Haoyang had indeed anticipated the woman’s turn, expecting her to use the Longque to block while he stabbed upward at her abdomen. Seeing her feint, he smiled, withdrew his sword to guard his ribs, and instead thrust his left palm forward to knock her and the blade into the water.

But Ling Ruoyu did not turn; she sidestepped, and the motion of Clouds Across Qinling intercepted his palm’s trajectory as if he had delivered his hand to the blade.

Long Haoyang had no time to change his move. His left palm slid under the sword’s edge, severing an artery, and blood gushed out.

A piercing scream rang out only then. Ling Ruoyu needed no further guidance; she twisted her sword and slashed it across Long Haoyang’s throat.

The sky almost impatiently flashed with golden light: “Midnight, Ling Ruoyu escorts the blade south. Wounded and weary, without using the Longque’s power, sword against sword, she slays Long Haoyang on the Grand Canal.”

“Rank sixty-seven on the Human List, Ling Ruoyu.”

Ling Ruoyu: “...”

What wretched book was this, written by some bastard? Wasn’t this a death trap?

Watching the boat behind accelerate toward her, Ling Ruoyu’s gaze fell numbly on the cabin.

At the cabin door sat the ancient demon god elder, chuckling. “Frustrating, isn’t it? That’s right—you’re not the first to be trapped by the Chaos Chronicle, nor the last.”

Ling Ruoyu ignored that and asked, “Thank you for your help, elder. But how do you know my sect’s Clouds Across Qinling?”

Zhao Changhe said, “I just studied the notable figures of this age and found your master both beautiful and dashing—I admire her... so I looked into her skills a bit...”

Ling Ruoyu’s face was expressionless. “Is your help also because of this?”

“Exactly, because of that.”

“...”

Zhao Changhe studied her expression with interest and laughed. “Now the road ahead is full of thorns. You’ll have to fight all the way to Gusu. Scared, little girl? Want to abandon the boat and hide in the mountains for half a month, waiting for your master to rescue you—just in time for me to meet her...”

Ling Ruoyu shook her head. “Your guidance earlier made me realize something.”

Zhao Changhe smiled. “What? That I, an ancient demon god, should help you?”

“No...” Ling Ruoyu said seriously. “Most of them are blockading in the north. With a fast sail downstream, they can only send lone pursuers with light-footed skills like Long Haoyang, unable to gather forces. Since they come one by one, this journey south to guard the blade is also my path to test my sword against all the underworld heroes.”

Zhao Changhe blinked. “What if you can’t win?”

“If I’m not afraid of being exposed, the sacred blade can act in times of peril. This journey is not as hard as expected... It is a trial granted by heaven, and the intent of Senior Han Wubing when he gave the blade. The Chaos Chronicle is but a spur—how is it a trap?”

Ye Wuming: “...”

I didn’t think so kindly of you.

Ling Ruoyu suddenly drew a deep breath and projected her voice to the trailing boat: “The sacred blade is here—come take it if you have no fear of death!”

Her voice carried across the canal, stirring the winds of Jianghuai.