Chapter Twenty-Nine: Narrow Escape from Death

On the way to Luocheng, a young man in gray and a young woman in pink flew side by side. The young man had piercing eyes and elegant brows, his entire body shrouded in a blue-green glow. Every so often, he would glance at the woman beside him.

A slight smile played at the corner of the woman’s rose-red lips. She stepped lightly through the air, moving ahead of the young man. “Su Fan, if you have questions, just ask,” she said.

Su Fan looked a bit flustered and hurriedly replied, “It’s nothing, just feels a bit odd.”

The woman brushed the dark hair from her shoulder and responded casually, “What’s odd about it?”

Su Fan frowned slightly, his spiritual sense alert as he sped forward. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand. “Someone’s here,” Su Fan whispered.

The woman stopped at once, scanning the darkness around them.

Suddenly, a crimson-glowing arrow shot from the void, heading straight for Su Fan with incredible speed. Sensing danger, Su Fan quickly formed a hand seal. His body blazed with blue-green light, and a Taiji diagram appeared on his right palm. As the arrow neared, he urgently summoned a formation to block it.

The red arrow pierced through his defenses as if they were nothing. In a last effort, Su Fan hurled the Taiji diagram from his palm.

With a loud boom, the diagram shattered beneath the arrow’s force. The red glow dimmed and its speed faltered for an instant, but it was still blindingly fast—striking Su Fan in the blink of an eye.

He was thrown backward and landed heavily on the ground, blood spurting from his lips.

Fan Ruoyu, seeing this, turned to the source of the arrow with cold fury in her eyes before quickly flying to Su Fan’s side.

“Impressive,” came a surprised voice from a distance.

Su Fan recognized it at once—it belonged to the man who had competed with him for beast blood at the auction. His voice was cultured, yet tinged with amusement.

Su Fan glanced at Fan Ruoyu, frowning, and said in a low voice, “Miss Fan, you should go. They’re here for me.”

A chill flashed in Fan Ruoyu’s eyes. She tapped her storage pouch, producing a strange flower in her hand.

The flower was vivid—its petals a blood-like red, the stem black and exuding a dense aura of death, three dark green leaves adding to its eerie appearance.

Fan Ruoyu’s gaze was fierce as she looked into the distance. “I won’t let anyone harm you,” she said coldly.

Su Fan glanced at her, wanting to speak but falling silent.

He had thought he understood her somewhat after months together, but now she seemed a stranger. He had many questions, but never asked.

Su Fan was afraid. He wasn’t oblivious—he knew Fan Ruoyu cared for him. Nor was he heartless, but the path of cultivation was fraught with peril. To accept her affection would be to shoulder responsibility, and Su Fan doubted his strength to protect her.

So he always feigned ignorance.

He steadied himself with a hand seal, managing to stand, and drew a damaged inner armor from under his clothes, forcing a bitter smile.

Had it not been for all the defenses just now, that arrow would have ended him.

“What is your intention?” Su Fan asked with a faint smile.

Three figures gradually emerged nearby. Leading them was a young man in blue robes, holding a jade fan.

His attire was somewhat reminiscent of Mo He’s, but his face bore a cunning, sinister look—an odd contrast with Mo He’s calm demeanor, making his outfit almost laughable.

The other two looked like attendants, their forms obscured so Su Fan couldn’t see their faces. They held weapons that gleamed coldly, ready to strike at a mere word from the blue-robed youth.

“You’re quite something. Ambushed, yet you remain composed. Facing a powerful enemy you know you can’t defeat, you still don’t panic. With such bearing, you’re among the most promising of Luocheng’s younger generation. If you hadn’t offended two of my friends today, perhaps I’d have befriended you myself,” the youth said, toying with his fan.

Su Fan calmly regarded the sudden arrivals. Now he finally understood what had bothered him after they teleported out of the auction—though nearly a thousand people had been present, only he and Fan Ruoyu appeared outside, the other cultivators vanished. The reason was plain—it was all because of this youth.

“I don’t recall offending your friends. Would you care to elaborate?” Su Fan asked coolly.

The youth chuckled and glanced at his companions, opening his fan. “Ren Ping, Ren Da—I’ll leave the rest to you. Mo He isn’t here, after all.”

Hearing the names Ren Ping and Ren Da, Su Fan realized at once why he was in this predicament.

Ren Ping stepped forward with a malicious grin. “Su, today I’ll take your treasure and let it truly shine—I won’t let it go to waste.”

A glint of killing intent flashed in Su Fan’s eyes. He was not bloodthirsty by nature, but if others did not trouble him, he would not trouble them. Now, forced into this, he cared nothing for so-called righteousness.

He tapped his storage pouch, drew the Mountain Soul Fan, and moved toward Ren Ping.

Ahead, Ren Da’s eyes gleamed with bloodlust. Already burly, he hefted a massive blade, preparing to strike. Fan Ruoyu, silent until now, gave a soft snort and waved her flower.

A crimson mist, laced with violet crystals, surged toward Ren Da. Behind him, Ren Ping sneered, sending his flying sword at Su Fan.

Su Fan quickly cast a spell, summoning a small hill to block the sword. Ren Da bellowed, “Break!”

The flying sword shone brilliantly, stabbing into the hill, but the hill held firm. Su Fan retreated, changing hand seals rapidly, forming a Taiji diagram before him.

Fan Ruoyu’s flower attack was blocked by Ren Da’s blade, but the blade’s glow dimmed under her assault.

Ren Da slapped his storage pouch, affixed a talisman to his blade, and the paper charm sank into the weapon, making the blade shine even brighter than before.

Fan Ruoyu frowned, her eyes flashing red as she advanced on Ren Da.

The four were now locked in a stalemate. Ordinarily, Su Fan could defeat Ren Ping with ease, but wounded by the arrow, he could only muster the strength of a fifth-level Qi Refiner. Even using defensive formations and the Mountain Soul Fan, he was barely Ren Ping’s equal.

Fan Ruoyu’s weapon was bizarre, but her cultivation was lacking—she could not unleash its full power. Ren Da’s cultivation matched hers, and his treasures seemed endless.

The blue-robed youth watched the battle in disdain, fanning himself idly.

Meanwhile, inside an ancestral hall, two men stood—one older, one younger. The elder held a stick of incense above the altar, passing his hand gently through the curling smoke.

The younger man was anxious, fists clenched, brows furrowed. He glanced repeatedly at the elder, then at the withered trees outside, as if he wished to speak.

The elder’s expression was calm as he slowly placed the incense in the burner. “Mo He, do you resent me for not announcing your engagement to Xinmeng?” he asked quietly.

Mo He’s face changed. “Father, you promised me. Why go back on your word?”

“And what about your lies to me?” The elder wiped the memorial tablets with a cloth, his tone unchanged.

Mo He was about to retort when the elder’s face darkened and he spun around. “Your friend is in danger—do you want to help him?”

Mo He paused, then asked, “Who?”

“Su Fan,” the elder replied, still wiping the tablets.

Mo He’s spiritual sense surged, cold light flashing in his eyes. “Damn you, Ran Hua—how dare you do such filth on my family’s turf!”

He flicked the jade fan from his sleeve into his hand and shot from the ancestral hall, leaving only a blur behind. The elder smiled faintly and sighed.

Outside Luocheng, the four fought fiercely. Su Fan showed signs of retreat, but when he glanced at Fan Ruoyu, he saw her prick her finger and drip blood onto a fallen petal, which she then flicked at Ren Da.

The petal shattered into a red mist that billowed toward Ren Da. Su Fan’s spiritual sense swept over the mist and he was alarmed—it felt extremely dangerous, something he couldn’t withstand even in his prime. But clearly, the attack cost Fan Ruoyu dearly—her face turned deathly pale, her body swaying, though her eyes remained icy.

The blue-robed youth, watching from the side, snapped his fan shut and conjured a yellow orb of light.

The red mist was about to envelop Ren Da, who fell back in terror, hacking wildly with his blade to no avail. The blade shattered in his hands, and just as the mist was about to engulf him, a faint smile appeared on Fan Ruoyu’s pale lips—only to be replaced by disappointment.

The mist was struck by the yellow orb, dissipating until nothing remained. The orb itself shattered in the fading red haze, and Fan Ruoyu’s deadly strike was blocked by the blue-robed youth.

Still, Ren Da was gravely injured by the orb’s destruction.

He collapsed before the youth, staring at Fan Ruoyu in terror.

The blue-robed youth looked at Ren Da impatiently, then at Ren Ping, snorting, “Useless.”

He approached the battlefield, glancing warily at Fan Ruoyu. “Ren Ping, stand back. You can’t even handle a severely wounded ninth-level Qi Refiner. Since this is the Qingyuan Pavilion’s territory, I’ll finish these two myself.”