Mingyue Pond!
Beneath a sky tinged with the melancholic hues of twilight, a figure stood by the edge of a serene pond, her figure covered in the somber elegance of flowing robes.
Her hair, like ink spilt across silk, was adorned with delicate ornaments that shimmered faintly in the waning light.
In her slender hands, she held a red jade lotus, its petals aglow with a deep, resplendent crimson, like the last embers of a dying fire.
Her eyes, deep pools of obsidian, brimmed with a sorrow that seemed older than time itself, yet there was a haunting beauty in her gaze, a silent allure that whispered of untold stories.
As she leaned over the water, her reflection mingled with that of the moon, creating a whisper of fleeting beauty.
With a gentle sigh, she released the lotus, and it floated away, carried by the soft caress of the water.
The lotus drifted, leaving ripples on the pond's surface, chasing the three lotuses she had released earlier.
Right then, a dark mist materialized behind Sun Lingxi, whispering into her ears with a voice hoarse and chilling, like an evil spirit. 'Why do you weep here for strangers, Lingxi? With me by your side, the world's riches—power, wealth, men—are all yours!'
Sun Lingxi was accustomed to these temptations. "Do you think I am responsible for his death?" she asked quietly.
Her gaze held a complexity as deep as the waters before her, the four red jade lotuses slowly converging towards the solitary one in the middle, each one a symbol of a life lost.
'You warned him not to return to the Stormpeak Mountains, Sun Lingxi. The heavens chart distinct paths for each soul; some are fated to be frail, others to pursue greatness, your soul Sun Lingxi, is meant for greatness!' the mist's voice darkened, moving eerily from left to right, as though weaving a convincing spell.
Deep down, Sun Lingxi knew she was not at fault.
Yet, the doubt lingered—had he clung to hope because of her name?
Even in the face of certain death, would he have truly attempted escape, knowing it could serve as a pretext for his demise?
Or was his soul now adrift, cursing her name?
"Why must fate weave such twisted paths?" she pondered, her brows knitting lightly.
Just weeks ago, she and Su Yiran had planned to compete in the Star Guardian Tournament.
Now, even finding their bodies would be impossible after the Immortal Execution Order had been declared.
Suddenly, faint footsteps disrupted her solitude. "Ling'er... Why did you not attend my coronation ceremony?"
The voice belonged to Sun Liang, who approached wearing a robe of black silk adorned with golden dragons and a modest crown.
Behind him, Jiang Chuchu appeared, her form draped in a lavender hanfu that clung to her curves more seductively than elegantly.
Sun Lingxi's frown deepened, her tone still composed. "My presence, I fear, would only dull the majesty of your celebration, Brother Liang."
Sun Liang raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to the drifting lotuses. "You think you are more important than me?" His voice rose, a jest.
Sun Lingxi's frown deepened further, pondering the unintended implication of her words.
Indeed, it seemed she had claimed a place of greater significance.
Sun Lingxi held her gaze steady, the reflection of the moonlight dancing in her eyes as she considered his words. "It was never Lingxi's intention to suggest such a thing," she replied, her voice low, infused with a melancholy, "Rather, I feared my troubles would cast a shadow over your rightful glory."
Sun Liang's expression softened slightly.
He stepped closer, observing the solemn dance of the lotuses on the water. "We are of the same blood, Lingxi. Your burdens are mine, as are your triumphs. Do not isolate yourself in these silken threads of guilt."
As he spoke, Sun Liang pivoted gracefully, his robe fluttering out like a midnight cloud.
He walked away, each step resonating with the quiet authority of his stature.
It wasn't until they had put a respectful distance between themselves and the scene of their earlier conversation that Jiang Chuchu finally spoke.
Her voice, low and cautious, broke the silence, "Young master, do you covet that... woman?"
Sun Liang, unguarded and direct, gave a slight nod, his eyes betraying a flicker of deeper intent. "She holds a rare quality that I require," he admitted softly.
For a fleeting moment, Jiang Chuchu's expression clouded, a shadow passing over her delicate features before she regained her composure.
Within her mind, a resolute thought formed: 'I cannot claim the master all to myself; I must support him in fulfilling all his ambitions!' With this resolve, she carefully drew a bottle filled with a shimmering pink elixir from her sleeve.
"Young master, shall I administer this to her? Alternatively, I could arrange for her and ensure she is delivered directly to your doorstep," she offered, her tone laced with a subtle secrecy.
Sun Liang turned to face Jiang Chuchu, his smile gentle yet profound.
He shook his head slowly, his response thoughtful. "There's no need. Enslaving someone's soul is akin to digging one's own grave. Once the chains are broken, what remains are adversaries who know your secrets more intimately than you might wish."
He gazed out towards the distant mountains, his voice carrying the weight of unchallenged dominion. "The Immortal Cloud Continent is already under my control; she has no sanctuary to which she can flee." Despite his claims, his attention was clearly anchored on matters of greater significance than the immediate pursuit of Sun Lingxi.
In his heart, he felt a strategic patience was prudent—she had no escape, and their confrontation could be deferred to a more opportune moment.
Acknowledging his decision, Jiang Chuchu nodded subtly, the vial of pink elixir disappearing silently back into the intricate folds of her garment as they continued their walk.
___________
Before the Stormpeak Mountain was engulfed in a Sea of Fires, a silent calamity appeared just as Sun Liang and his entourage disappeared into the distance.
Unseen by any, a shadow materialized beside the fallen form of Su Xiaobai, whose back was brutally pinned to the earth by dozens of arrows, each one a cruel anchor leaking rivers of blood.
Snap!
Snap!
Snap!
With mere flicks of his wrist, the mysterious figure shattered the arrows.
"Interesting..." he murmured, examining Su Xiaobai's lifeless body. "The Demonic bloodline emerges only at the brink of death—could such extremity be the trigger?"
A sinister laugh broke the stillness. "Kekeke...young lad, your destiny was merely to become a sacrificial offering for this old creature," cackled the voice of Old Man Ning, the very same who had once encountered Su Xiaobai within the confines of the Heavenly Prison.
Unlike any ordinary prisoner, Ning Gufan had dwelled there by choice, a information revelation unknown to Su Xiaobai.
Ning's eyes sparkled with a crazed delight as he pondered the fortune that had befallen him. "With the extraction of this lad's Demonic veins, I can mend my own tattered Immortal Evil Veins. It won't fully restore my former glory, but it will suffice to sustain this old vessel," he thought, his voice a mix of glee and anticipation.
With this newfound resource, Ning Gufan could at last shed his veil of secrecy and pursue further arcane methods to regain his full strength.
The weight of hiding and scheming had been a heavy shackle, but now, with Su Xiaobai's potent veins in his possession, the paths to restoration lay wide open before him.
As for Su Xiaobai's fate, it was of little consequence to Ning Gufan.
He harbored no delusions of heroism; saving Su Xiaobai had never been an option.
In the dark and secretive arts of vein extraction, the cultivator's death was inevitable—a necessary sacrifice for greater power. Ning Gufan saw no value in the life of a cultivator who was already on the cusp of death.
To him, Su Xiaobai was merely a stepping stone on his path to recovery.
In Ning Gufan's cold, calculating eyes, Su Xiaobai's death was preordained.
He believed firmly in the merciless logic that destiny, once scripted by others, could only be overturned by those with greater power.
"Opposing a destiny carved by others demands strength," His voice, a murmur lost to the howling winds around Stormpeak, carried a harsh truth known to those who tread the path of power, "Only with supreme strength can one truly become the master of their fate."
With meticulous care, Ning Gufan wrapped Su Xiaobai's corpse in a shroud of dark silk and placed it within an ancient coffin.
He then secured the coffin with chains wrought from cursed iron and began to drag it away from the scene.
No sooner had Ning Gufan vanished into the murky depths of the forest than the followers of Sun Liang returned, setting ablaze the entire range of Stormpeak Mountain.
The fire roared like a dragon scorned, obliterating every trace of the battlefield, leaving behind only the echoes of dark deeds and demonic whispers in the wind.