The Last One (6)

Lin Qianshuang’s gaze followed the sound of labored breathing to a handsome young man slumped unconscious in the corner, his head tilted awkwardly. Footprints marred his blue-and-white sect robes—evidently, he’d been kicked multiple times. She recognized him as Chen Shangqing. Today was Xiao Lanle’s birthday; he’d likely come to visit their junior sister, only to be ambushed and trapped here like the rest of them.

A tendril of demonic energy shot from Lin’s palm toward a potted plant on a nearby table. The clay pot shattered loudly at Chen Shangqing’s feet, jolting him awake. Blinking dazedly, he took in his surroundings.

When his eyes landed on Lin Qianshuang in the iron cage, he strained violently against the ropes binding him. Instead of loosening, the restraints tightened like living vines. Defeated, Chen Shangqing’s calm demeanor cracked with urgency. “Senior Sister Lin,” he rasped, “I was sparring with Junior Sister Xiao Lanle when Zheng Mingxia’s men cornered her. They demanded the Glazed Temple Gem. She couldn’t fight them off—she fell into the Sect Leader’s Trial. She’s…she’s in mortal peril!”

Lin Qianshuang jolted to her feet within the iron cage, voice trembling. “What did you say? Xiao Lanle… she’s already inside?”

Chen Shangqing gave a terse hum of confirmation.

Her thoughts spun into chaos, any attempt to parse his words crumbling instantly. She slid back to the floor in a daze, limbs boneless as she slumped against the cage bars. The Sect Leader’s Trial—Penglai Immortal Sect’s lethal inheritance ground—offered no exits, only a one-way passage to oblivion.

In the original storyline, even Liang Jingxuan had emerged from that ordeal a blood-soaked wreck, unconscious for weeks. And Xiao Lanle, with her fragile constitution and far weaker cultivation…

The favorability interface flickered in her mind’s eye, Xiao Lanle’s avatar beaming its usual lively smile. Lin Qianshuang slammed the panel shut, recoiling as if burned. That glowing portrait might as well be an hourglass—every second it remained bright felt like borrowed time.

The yellow, incomplete “Immortal Alliance Leader” quest marker still bore a red cross.

Terror seeped into every fiber of Lin Qianshuang’s being. Her body shook uncontrollably—if Xiao Lanle had truly perished in the Sect Leader’s Trial, would she be trapped here forever? All her efforts would crumble. Would the system erase her for failing the mission?

Mu Weiyin observed Lin Qianshuang’s unraveling composure, her own gray-black eyes steady as she grasped the trembling wrist. Through telepathy, her voice slithered cold and assured: “Xiao Lanle is this City Lord’s chosen Taoist companion. If she cannot survive a mere inheritance secret realm, she is unworthy of the title. Save your panic.”

Lin Qianshuang stiffened. Awkwardly, she stared at the hand gripping her wrist, too conscious of etiquette to yank free. She stayed still, throat tight, until Mu Weiyin’s fingers finally loosened.

Is this supposed to be consolation from a love rival? Lin Qianshuang almost laughed despite herself. The woman’s tone reminded her of stern mentors discussing their disciples’ academic shortcomings with polite exasperation.

Mu Weiyin released her wrist and transmitted her voice coldly, “This City Lord alone knows Xiao Lanle best as her sworn companion. Your concern as an outsider is unnecessary.”

Lin Qianshuang found the woman’s baffling jealousy equal parts irritating and amusing. Still, some tension eased from her shoulders. As the Heavenly Eye’s bearer, the Tianshu City Lord’s reassurance held far more weight than any flickering system interface.

Her breathing steadied. However unreasonable, she felt grateful. Losing composure before even encountering their enemies would have been disastrous.

Nearby, Chen Shangqing shifted against his bonds in the corner, his eyes narrowing at the odd girl beside Lin Qianshuang. “Senior Sister Lin,” he called abruptly, “is this child a Penglai Immortal Sect disciple?”

“A junior sister entrusted to me by Fairy Jinghua,” she answered smoothly.

Lin Qianshuang introduced Mu Weiyin and turned to Chen Shangqing. “Senior Brother Chen, how are your injuries? Can you still walk?”

Before Chen Shangqing could reply, the door burst open with a violent kick.

As the door swung inward, Lin Qianshuang slumped weakly against the iron bars of her cage, feigning harmless fragility.

Zheng Mingxia strode in with a band of hostile human cultivators. Spotting Lin Qianshuang trapped inside, he paused, then sneered, “As predicted by my lord. You did return to Xiaoyao Cave—right into our ambush, cousin.”

At the mention of “lord,” Lin Qianshuang ventured cautiously, “Has… Senior Brother Liang returned? Is he alive?”

Zheng Mingxia’s face twisted with contempt. “That stray dog the Liang family cast out? Why waste breath on him? The lord I serve is ten thousand times the man that failure ever was.”

Lin Qianshuang’s expression chilled briefly, a dark glint flashing in her eyes. If Liang Jingxuan isn’t the mastermind here, then who is pulling the strings?

Zheng Mingxia brushed past her, storming up to Chen Shangqing. He kicked the man’s ribs twice and spat, “Chen Shangqing! You lied to me! The Glazed Temple Gem isn’t in the Wanbao Pavilion like you claimed!”

Chen Shangqing’s sword-like eyes glinted coldly as he replied, “If I choose not to tell you something, I won’t. Only a fool trusts strangers so easily.”

Grabbing Chen’s collar, Zheng Mingxia punched him hard across the jaw. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But Master Qingyun and the elders are rotting in the water prison. Lie again, and I’ll toss them to the crocodiles.”

A bruise darkened Chen’s lip. Unreadable emotion flickered in his gaze. “I don’t know where the Glazed Temple Gem is. I have nothing to tell.”

With a snarl, Zheng kicked him aside, his swollen belly jutting forward as he jabbed a finger. “If you’re clueless, why spout nonsense? Trying to hoodwink us, huh?”

A human cultivator stepped forward and violently attacked Chen Shangqing where he lay on the ground.

Lin Qianshuang, trapped in the iron cage, couldn’t bear it any longer. She blurted, “I know where the Glazed Temple Gem is. Release Junior Brother Chen first.”

Zheng Mingxia flicked his wrist, and his men retreated. Chen Shangqing wiped the blood from his face, barely managing to push himself up. He shook his head at Lin Qianshuang in silent warning.

Ignoring him, Lin’s eyes darkened as she addressed Zheng Mingxia. “Cousin, I do know the treasure’s location. But first, answer me one question.”

Zheng sauntered to the cage, his oily grin a stark contrast to his earlier brutality. “Ask away, cousin—if you swear to tell the truth. Cross me, and I’ll make you regret it. Cunning as you are, I’ve got… methods to ensure obedience.”

Lin forced a tremble into her voice, though inwardly she sneered. “The Glazed Temple Gem is a sect secret. Only Junior Sister Xiao ever told me of its whereabouts. Even the peak elders know nothing. So how did you learn I was involved? That detail should’ve reached no one but the Sect Leader himself.”

When Zheng Mingxia heard this, he grew suspicious of Lin Qianshuang’s confrontational questioning and warned, “Cousin, you’d best behave. The devious master of the Chen family ordered me to ensure your comfort—so spare me the games and tell me everything you know.”

Lin Qianshuang stiffened. Since when had the elusive Chen family head meddled in this affair?

Does he also covet the Glazed Temple Gem?

Mu Weiyin stood at her side, a dry smirk twisting her gaunt face. Her gaze flicked from the human cultivators behind Zheng Mingxia to Chen Shangqing’s battered form nearby, then settled on Lin’s expression of feigned shock. Clouded gray-black eyes swirled like nebulae, unreadable.

“The Glazed Temple Gem lies within the Penglai Immortal Sect’s forbidden grounds—the Underground Palace,” Lin declared, lying without missing a beat. “Last time, Junior Sister Xiao and I used the Star-Plucking Sword to breach the barrier. During the skirmish with Senior Brother Liang, we both fell into the palace ruins… and stumbled upon the gem by accident.”

“Penglai Underground Palace?”

Zheng Mingxia’s eyes brightened. “Cousin, can I trust your words?”

Lin Qianshuang kept her face a mask of fear, murmuring, “Why would I lie? If you doubt me, take me as your guide. If traps await, I’ll be the first to fall to them.”

Zheng Mingxia barked orders. The human cultivators shifted the iron cage aside, then clamped shackles around Lin Qianshuang’s and the girl’s ankles. For good measure, he bound Lin’s wrists with a spirit-locking rope before shoving both onto a floating gourd.

Beside Lin, Mu Weiyin stiffened as the cultivators lingered a beat too long, their hands brushing the women’s calves. Revulsion twisted her stomach. Her fingertips ignited with a faint glow.

“City Lord, save your strength. Let me handle this.”

Lin Qianshuang sent a telepathic message, her strand of demonic energy morphing into tiny insects that swarmed the exposed skin of the human cultivators. Instantly, the group erupted into frenzied scratching, their limbs flailing in a grotesque parody of dance.

Mu Weiyin stood with icy poise, hands clasped behind her back. To her gray-black eyes, the cultivators were already corpses. She smirked. She’d memorized every face here. Even if that soft-hearted Jieyu Gongzi spared them, none would see dawn.

“What’s the delay? Haul the one on the ground up now!” Zheng Mingxia snapped at his squirming subordinates. The cultivators, their stung skin pustulent and swollen, scrambled to obey despite the agony. They dragged Chen Shangqing onto the hovering magic weapon—a massive gourd—and shoved him aboard.

Lin Qianshuang perched at the front of the floating gourd, guiding Zheng Mingxia’s group through the mist. A jagged rift valley materialized in the hazy distance. She telepathically whispered to Mu Weiyin, City Lord, we’ve nearly reached the Penglai Underground Palace. I’m familiar with its layout. Soon, we’ll guide these fools into a death trap—then interrogate their leader about the mastermind. Once that’s done, we’ll finally uncover what happened to the Penglai Immortal Sect.

Mu Weiyin leaned against Lin’s back, eyes closed. Her spiritual energy pulsed, shattering the remaining seal on her powers. Proceed as planned, she replied. This City Lord trusts your strategy.

Lin twisted toward Zheng Mingxia and pointed to the gorge below. “Cousin, the Sect’s Forbidden Grounds lie there. The palace entrance is hidden behind a waterfall’s secret door.”

Zheng Mingxia glanced at Chen Shangqing sprawled on the gourd. “Senior Brother Chen, you’ve visited the Forbidden Grounds. Confirm this claim.”

Chen Shangqing remained silent, his piercing gaze locked on Lin Qianshuang. When the gourd banked toward the mist-shrouded valley, his hand tightened reflexively around the hilt of his absent natal spirit sword.