Will you marry her? (2)

Lin Qianshuang hoisted Mu Weiyin onto her back, walked straight up to Xiao Lanle as though the sword at her throat did not exist, and glared. “The City Lord subdued the Taotie, how could she be in league with it? Every so-called righteous cultivator here saw it yet chose to stay blind. Junior Sister, your heart has always been a bright mirror; can’t you see the truth? Do you really mean to stand with this mob that can’t tell right from wrong?”

It was the first time Xiao Lanle had seen Lin Qianshuang lose her temper. The woman seemed certain she would never strike. Each step Lin took was an assault, the blade creeping closer to her own neck until Xiao, afraid the sword would slip and cut her, instinctively retreated and angled Plain Inquiry Sword away.

Chen Sanxuan, Sect Leader of Lingxiao Sword Sect, clamped a hand on Xiao Lanle’s shoulder to stop any further retreat and said sternly, “Sect Leader Xiao, these two are guilty of grave crimes. You should be the first to seize them, not shrink back for old affection’s sake.”

Xiao Lanle’s face darkened. She flipped her palm; the sword flashed back out of its scabbard. Watching Lin Qianshuang fight through the crowd, she stood silent and still, making no move.

Seeing her motionless, Chen Sanxuan produced his whisk and sighed. “Worthy niece, since you refuse to act, this old Daoist will lend you a hand.”

Xiao Lanle tightened her grip on the hilt and stepped forward. “Martial Uncle Chen, there’s no need. I know my own mind.”

A sudden white mist spurted through the crowd; its acrid stench sent everyone covering their noses.

Not good. It’s Mist Powder.

Xiao Lanle’s gaze locked on where Lin Qianshuang had been; she darted forward. Once the blinding fog closed around her, she spun in circles and touched no one.

Lin Qianshuang’s sword carved an arc, driving off the dozen surrounding cultivators. Over her shoulder Mu Weiyin lay utterly still, face serene, showing no sign of waking. A gutter of fear flickered in Lin’s heart.

These small-fry were simple, but the five sect leaders themselves were a different matter. A drawn-out slugfest against their numbers would ruin her.

She resolved to break out and flee with Mu Weiyin. Tianshu City could be lost, Mu Weiyin could not.

With a flick of her wrist the supple blade whirled, its gleam scattering like pear-blossom petals as she drove back several more cultivators. A coil of white vapor rose around her; the acrid tang made her cough.

None of the monks who had ringed her were in sight. Lin Qianshuang wondered who had loosed this Mist Powder, yet the haze offered a perfect chance to flee.

“System, fastest way out.”

[Beep. Regretfully, the request cannot be processed. Host is currently under sniper threat; query functions are available only after disengaging from combat.]

Sniper? Someone was lying in wait for her? The fog was bait.

She pivoted, sword ready, scanning the murk. Suddenly, she felt the weight go off her back, then a chopping hand cracked the base of her neck and the ground slammed up to meet her.

The hand chop had carried real force, yet Lin Qianshuang kept a sliver of awareness. Through the haze she saw several crimson figures haul the City Lord away, then a ravishing face loomed over her, hands locking around her throat, thumbs bearing down, tightening by degrees.

Her sight swam, but she still knew that face.

“Master…”

The choke of approaching death sent her thrashing. She clawed at those slender wrists, shaking her head, eyes wide and unfocused. “You can’t kill me, I can’t die, I’m… I’m useful to you.”

Han Shengyao planted a boot on Lin Qianshuang’s wrist and hauled her up by the neck. “The Tianshu City Lord is immortal; you’re only flesh. If I don’t remove you, how do I remove these tiresome human cultivators?”

The clear, bewitching visage that had once dazzled Han Shengyao was bleaching of color; violet veins stood out on a snow-white throat, breaths coming in ragged jerks, ready to cease.

Her fingers slackened. The scarlet line circling her wrist glowed against her pale skin and, for no reason she could name, it vexed her.

She could not finish it; yet if she let Lin Qianshuang slip away now the Penglai Sect leader would shield her, and another chance might never come.

Han Shengyao reached for the throat again. The pale face lifted, tugged her neck down, teeth parted, and an awkward, fevered tongue curled around hers, drawing softly, inviting clumsily.

“Master…”

The single word, half-muffled and aggrieved, jarred her for an instant; the plaintive lilt seemed to brush sparks across her skin. That timid tongue flicked like a spark against her heart, fanning embers into flame.

Lin Qianshuang’s clearing blue eyes met hers, fingers brushing the demon lord’s cheek. No reaction: just as she expected. One who drank A Dream’s End wakes only when truly startled from the dream.

Han Shengyao was surely frozen by that outrageous move; she could not have felt nothing, and this was the perfect moment to flee.

“Nggh…”

Lin Qianshuang had barely begun to pull back when her chin was yanked forward, a reckless kiss rushing to seal her mouth. A tongue seized hers, storming in and claiming dominance.

“Who are you, and how can you twist my emotions at will?”

Han Shengyao nipped her tongue like punishment; violet eyes darkened as they bore into her, then slipped to her earlobe. A hushed threat grazed her skin.

“I may not be able to kill you, but do not gloat. If you keep imitating the bearing of the one in the painting, I will not hesitate to keep another bedwarmer at my side.”

Lin Qianshuang quietly slipped the sword to her side and set the point against Han Shengyao’s magic core. Her own dantian flared in secret while one arm locked tight around the Demon Lord’s waist. “Lord of the Demon Realm,” she snarled, ready to drag them both to the grave, “return the City Lord to me. Otherwise I’ll shatter your core. At worst I’ll detonate my dantian and we perish together.”

The scorching kiss pressed to her cheek froze. Han Shengyao gave a soft, low laugh, her face a dazzling, venomous bloom. “How amusing. I had no idea you were so devoted to that Tianshu City Lord you’d throw your life away.”

A hand seized Lin Qianshuang’s chin, tilting it up; violet eyes blazed inches from her own. “Silly girl, what good will it do? Once I’m gone those human cultivators will still haul you off.”

Han Shengyao flung her chin aside with contempt, the mocking smile widening. “Fine. Since I can’t bring myself to kill you, I’ll leave the task to your junior sister. She lacks my restraint and will grant you a quick end.”

Right Protector Su Qing, seeing the Demon Lord spare Lin Qianshuang, stared in shock. “Domain Lord, if we let this chance slip the Tianshu City Lord will be nearly impossible to eliminate.”

“Move out.”

“But Domain Lord…”

Han Shengyao’s violet eyes flicked toward Su Qing, sharp and venomous. Su Qing bowed at once, led the demon cultivators, and withdrew.

The mist thinned. Lin Qianshuang sat on the ground, drenched in sweat, and lifted the unconscious Mu Weiyin into her arms. At the same instant, dozens of sword tips pressed against her from every side; one order and she would become a human hornet’s nest.

“Senior sister, stop struggling. It will only hurt you.”

Xiao Lanle stepped in front of her, gaze deep and cool. “The rogue cultivators inside Tianshu City refuse to obey the Five Sect Alliance. You are the City Lord’s newly appointed confidant. If you-”

Lin Qianshuang gave a brittle laugh, stubborn fire in her eyes, and spat straight at Xiao Lanle’s face. “Dream on if you want the Tianshu Intelligence Tower!”

Crack, a slap landed on her cheek. Already weakened, her ears rang and stars burst before her eyes; for a long moment she could not push herself off the ground.

Xiao Lanle wiped her own face, watched the disciple beside her strike Lin Qianshuang, then stared at the man with dark displeasure.

The disciple had meant to curry favor with the sect leader; seeing her frown, he knew he had overstepped and slipped silent into the crowd.

Xiao Lanle pointed at the motionless figure on the ground. “Take her to the dungeon. I will question her myself. As for the Tianshu City Lord: we still need the Tianshu Order that opens the Intelligence Tower, so keep her alive for now. Lock her on the second floor of the Beast-Subduing Tower.”

Lin Qianshuang lay face-down, back to Xiao Lanle, apparently inert. In truth she secretly worked a spell, pushing the Soul-Stabilizing Pearl between Mu Weiyin’s lips. Stripped of the Tianshu Mirror, Mu Weiyin’s Emotionless Path had unraveled; the six-petal spirit seal on her forehead had vanished. Once that art dissipated, her cultivation would plummet. With her soul in turmoil, only the pearl could steady both spirit and sliding cultivation.

City Lord, what exactly are you plotting?

This Soul-Stabilizing Pearl was the price you paid the Lord of the Demon Realm. You already knew this disaster was coming, didn’t you?

Lin Qianshuang studied Mu Weiyin’s sleeping face and gently fingered the waist pendant on her belt. The Tianshu Mirror lay inside; the mirror’s quest on the Favorability Interface had been marked complete. Beneath Beast Emperor Xuan Luoqing’s portrait, Xuan Luowan’s former red name had switched to green, yet a new quest had still not sparked. Presumably it would surface only when Xiaowan truly stepped out from the Cold Cicada Zither.

Bone-piercing ice water sluiced from the crown of her head to her soles. A chain ran through the flesh at her collarbones and left Lin Qianshuang dangling from a stone pillar while she watched patrol disciples drift back and forth across her gaze.

Exactly as Master had warned, Xiao Lanle had not stinted in her welcome since Lin Qianshuang entered the water prison. Every stray whip-scrawl on her body had come from the sect leader’s own hand; gruesome to see, yet mere grazes on the skin.

She had been casting for any chance to flee, but the water prison suppressed her cultivation. Any bargain that might win her exit must offer leverage Xiao Lanle would value.

“I hear Sect Leader Xiao holds her wedding today, and rumor says the bride is a demon cultivator.”

At the mention of Xiao Lanle, Lin Qianshuang, who had been feeling rather listless, instantly pricked up her ears.

“It’s the deputy tower lord of Tianshu Tower who said it plainly: if you want the Tianshu Order, you have to marry the tower’s lord, Lin Qianshuang.”

“With demons and ghosts still running loose in Tianshu City and the rogue cultivators hiding in the shadows itching to move, this wedding might just draw them out one by one so we can clean house,” a patrolling disciple mused aloud.

“Lin Qianshuang… that name rings a bell.”

The other patrolman racked his brains, then suddenly slapped his thigh and stared at the woman chained to the stone pillar, clothes blood-soaked and filthy, hair plastered to her face until her features were unreadable. “I remember now, wasn’t she the traitor expelled from Penglai Immortal Sect? Lin Qianshuang herself?”