As Nan Shuang lifted the waters of the Forgetting River towards the shore, Yun Duan intended to strike back. However, Shang Can had a firm grip on her hand, showing no intention of letting her go.
Thus, Yun Duan had no choice but to try her best to raise a barrier to protect both of them as the immense heavenly fire descended, even attempting to soothe the chaotic spiritual energy within Shang Can’s body with her own power. This was supposed to be quite a difficult task; after all, it’s generally hard for cultivators to trust another person’s energy to enter their unguarded body while they’re conscious. Yet Yun Duan felt that she was managing quite well.
The thunderous sounds of water and fire colliding finally ceased, and Yun Duan temporarily stopped channeling her energy. The thick mist surrounding them obscured her view, making it impossible to see Shang Can’s face clearly; she could only make out a vague figure.
Even though she was holding onto this person, Yun Duan suddenly felt uneasy and instinctively tightened her grip.
To her surprise, the person she was holding onto seemed to share the same thought, leaning in closer, using her strength to draw nearer.
Shang Can, slightly taller than her, awkwardly nestled in front of her and suddenly wrapped her arms around Yun Duan.
Yun Duan’s eyes widened.
She was held tightly, their bodies pressed together, and it felt as if the tip of her nose would brush against Shang Can’s ear with just a turn of her head. Shang Can’s body wasn’t very solid; perhaps it could be said to be frail, but for some reason, whether it was due to Shang Can’s overwhelming strength or something else, Yun Duan felt completely immobilized.
Yun Duan, a bit dazed, lowered her gaze, uncertain whether the heartbeat she heard, thundering like drums, was her own or Shang Can’s.
“…Yun Duan.”
The unexpected voice of the person holding her broke the silence. It was low, and the proximity startled Yun Duan slightly, causing her to unconsciously clutch Shang Can’s clothing at her waist.
Yun Duan held her breath, waiting for Shang Can’s next words, but after calling her name, Shang Can fell silent for a long time. All she could hear was Shang Can’s somewhat chaotic breathing. It seemed that her companion was not at ease, which made Yun Duan’s heart race as well.
“…”
After a duration that felt both brief and prolonged, Yun Duan finally heard Shang Can let out a gentle sigh. When she spoke again, her voice sounded sluggish, as if lacking strength.
“…I might need to sleep for a bit. Don’t worry.”
No sooner had the words left her lips than Yun Duan felt the weight against her suddenly grow heavier. Without giving her time to react, Shang Can went limp, losing all her strength, and Yun Duan quickly wrapped her arms around Shang Can’s waist, only to belatedly realize that there was a strong scent of blood on her.
“—”
Even with Shang Can’s warning before losing consciousness, Yun Duan’s mind was still blank. She reached for her medicine bottle, only to remember that it had been given to Shang Can right after they reunited. Panic surged within her, and without thinking, she instinctively drew her sword towards her own wrist.
“What are you doing, you fool?”
A sudden voice from behind snapped Yun Duan out of her chaotic emotions. She barely managed to halt the sword’s edge and turned to face the newcomer.
“…You’re changing your expression so quickly. You didn’t have that cold look when she fainted just now.”
The mist had dissipated without her noticing, and Nan Shuang approached slowly from the riverbank. Although she looked utterly disheveled, with large areas of her body burned and parts missing, she still seemed to retain enough strength to speak.
“I heard from Qin Yi about your constitution.” Her once proper demeanor was now marred by burns, and she appeared to have furrowed brows. “That sword of yours was aimed at your own hand, wasn’t it? If you bleed in a place like the Underworld, it’s tantamount to suicide.”
“Step back,” Yun Duan replied coldly, showing no desire to converse with Nan Shuang. The light of her sword, Wuyou, seemed to intensify in response to her emotions. Nan Shuang had no choice but to stop and slowly step back, spreading her hands in a sign of surrender. “You don’t need to be so wary of me. As you can see, I’ve been gravely injured by heavenly fire—truthfully, I’m surprised that I can still stand and talk. I must have indeed sustained serious injuries when she attacked just now.”
As Nan Shuang spoke, she pointed at Shang Can, who Yun Duan was holding, and gave a gentle smile. “But she has merely fainted from exhaustion. For her safety, don’t do anything foolish.”
“…”
The person who had just been compared to a mask-changer now seemed to have genuinely changed. Yun Duan scrutinized the woman who had once fought fiercely like a wild beast, now standing before her with a calm, gentle demeanor, appearing completely different.
“Otherwise, we should go to my King of Ghosts’ residence to rest. She needs a place to recuperate—”
Suddenly, Nan Shuang stopped mid-sentence, as if sensing something. She turned to look at the Forgetting River, which seemed to have dropped considerably due to the recent battle, barely covering the riverbed. She furrowed her brows slightly, murmuring, “…It’s still so vast.”
Despite the seemingly friendly attitude she was displaying, Yun Duan found it impossible to trust Nan Shuang. She glanced down at Shang Can, whose clear brows were obscured by disheveled hair, revealing only a pale face and lips stained with dark red, dried blood.
Yun Duan tightened her grip and silently raised her sword towards Nan Shuang.
Her movements were unambiguous, and Nan Shuang understood well enough, yet she made no attempt to evade or plead for mercy. Instead, she quietly stood at the riverbank, awaiting Yun Duan’s next move.
“Wait, wait! There must be some misunderstanding!”
It was Pei Chen, who had been standing nearby, finally coming to his senses. He hurriedly rushed between the two women, arms outstretched. Likely affected by the previous fight, his usually neat appearance now seemed somewhat disheveled, and even his calm demeanor appeared anxious.
“Nan Shuang, my master wouldn’t attack for no reason… Yun Zhong Jun, please put down your sword—”
“I don’t care about the reasons.” Yun Duan’s posture remained unchanged, the sword’s tip still pointed forward as she spoke indifferently. “Get out of the way.”
Surprised by her unwavering attitude, Pei Chen froze, and in that split second, Yun Duan had already struck. Her sword shot forward like a beam of light.
This strike was merciless, its speed astonishing. The once stuffy heat around them was suddenly pierced by a chill, along with the sharp sword light aimed directly at Pei Chen. He instinctively tried to dodge, but abruptly halted his steps, barely managing to draw his weapon to block the strike, being pushed back a few steps.
Pei Chen, still shaken, pressed his hand against the lower part of his chest, feeling blood seep slowly from beneath his robe. It wasn’t that he blocked the strike particularly well; it was just that there was no intent to kill behind her move. Otherwise, the injury would have been much more severe.
This was Yun Zhong Jun using her true strength in a strike.
Pei Chen hadn’t expected her to attack him without hesitation, nor that he would be injured from just a single exchange. He stared in shock, meeting her icy expression, her flawless beauty showing no signs of emotion, merely gazing at him quietly, yet she didn’t strike again.
“There are matters at hand. We’ll fight again another day.”
With that succinct remark, Yun Duan withdrew her stance, half-carrying the unconscious Shang Can as she soared away on her sword, leaving behind a trail of brilliant sword light that startled the residents of the Underworld.
“…Yun Zhong Jun…”
Pei Chen murmured, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He silently turned, and Nan Shuang remained behind him, her expression still calm, showing no signs of trying to escape while he was engaged in battle with Yun Duan. Despite the chaos in Pei Chen’s heart, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief, gently asking, “Nan Shuang, are you alright?”
“Why did you jump out?”
That was the first response Pei Chen received from her since he met her today, yet it was far from friendly. Nan Shuang furrowed her brows and turned away, softly sighing, “I had already resolved to die at her sister’s hands. After all, I truly did something to wrong her this time.”
“You… what are you talking about…” Pei Chen’s eyes widened in disbelief, stumbling over his words. “Why did you trap us in an illusion? Why did you fight with Shang Can—ah, you must have been deceived by someone!”
His speech grew more hurried, sounding less like a conversation with Nan Shuang and more like a desperate attempt to convince himself. Nan Shuang silently gazed at the Forgetting River without giving an answer, and just as Pei Chen’s turbulent emotions had nowhere to go, he suddenly heard a gasp from nearby.
“Ah Shuang! What happened to you? You’re hurt so badly!”
Pei Chen turned to the voice and saw a flower spirit rushing toward them, someone he had only met a few times before. His heart sank as he thought, This flower spirit calls her Ah Shuang?
“I’ve sustained some injuries,” came a calm reply from behind. The voice was faint, but Pei Chen could detect a hint of tenderness in it. “I’m just outmatched and concede defeat.”
The flower spirit rushed up to Nan Shuang, wanting to reach out to touch her wounds but hesitating to do so. Instead, she hovered her hand above the ghastly injuries for a moment before letting it drop, her eyes welling with tears as she looked up with a quivering voice, “Quick, let’s go back and tend to your wounds!”
Unintentionally or not, the flower spirit positioned herself directly between Pei Chen and Nan Shuang. Pei Chen was forced to step back a couple of paces, and as he watched them speak softly to each other, he felt a sharp discomfort.
“…It’s you, isn’t it?”
He murmured, suddenly stepping forward to seize the flower spirit’s wrist. With his other hand, he pulled out a few talismans and, without even glancing at her, aimed to slap them onto the beautiful but alarmed woman’s head.
“You dare!”
A furious shout came from the side as his talisman-holding hand was tightly grasped and forcefully pushed aside, sending him flying.
Pei Chen stumbled backward several steps before barely regaining his balance. He looked up in panic to see Nan Shuang standing protectively in front of the flower spirit, her eyes filled with clear anger, lacking the gentle smile she once wore when they were in the celestial realm.
“…” Pei Chen stared blankly for a long moment before speaking hoarsely, “You’ve been deceived by her, Nan Shuang. She’s a demon and won’t do anything good. Don’t trust her—”
“Pei Chen,”
Nan Shuang interrupted him, her voice heavy, “I am now a member of the ghost tribe.”
“…”
That was the last thing she said to him before she turned away without a second glance, leading the still-frightened flower spirit away, slowly moving into the distance.
Pei Chen wanted to chase after them to demand an explanation, but for some reason, he found himself unable to move, as if rooted to the spot by the banks of the Wangchuan River, which remained as vast and boundless as ever, stirring his heart with unease.
It was much like the distance between him and Nan Shuang. Perhaps it had been this way for a long time; he just refused to acknowledge it.
Suddenly, he recalled Yun Duan, who had left with Shang Can, and his thoughts drifted back to when they first arrived in the Underworld, their hands intertwined, a feeling of inexplicable envy washing over him.
Pei Chen chuckled softly, tinged with melancholy.
As they walked the path back to the ghost king’s residence, the energetic Yuan Ge chirped incessantly, shifting from asking about injuries to the reasons behind them, while Nan Shuang patiently listened, occasionally interjecting a word or two.
“Why did you fight Shang Can?” Yuan Ge asked, her face a mixture of emotions. “I thought she was quite nice… I never expected someone who looked so fragile could fight so well and hurt you like this…”
“For various reasons, mostly my selfishness,”
Nan Shuang replied, a strange sense of exhilaration washing over her, her spirits lifted. “She truly is a formidable opponent; that display of heavenly fire was truly a rare sight to behold…”
“What do you mean ‘rare sight’? You’re burned to a crisp!”
Yuan Ge’s frustration flared, as she scolded her, “I just came outside because it suddenly got so bright. You don’t know how many members of the ghost tribe lost their senses and queued up at the river’s edge to forget their obsessions after the fire fell from the sky. The ghost tribe today is really—”
“…”
After pondering for a moment, Nan Shuang suddenly asked, “What if my face stays burned like this and I can’t go back?”
“Hmm?” Yuan Ge looked over with a confused expression, replying blankly, “Well, it’s not too bad. I actually painted your portrait this morning, so at least I’ll remember what you used to look like.”
Nan Shuang couldn’t help but laugh, lightly shaking her head as she gazed at the bewildered Yuan Ge, her expression gentle and calm.
“That’s quite nice.”
Feeling as if she had come to an understanding, she lowered her gaze and softly said, “Then make sure to remember me and keep me in your heart, Yuan Ge.”
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