Chapter 028

Lu Zhaohe’s legs moved instinctively before he fully registered what was happening.

But the person beside him reacted even faster.

The rubble was lifted by spiritual power. As the dust spread, Lu Zhaohe’s heart tightened with anxiety.

What would happen to her? Was she dead? With such a huge stone falling, no matter what, it seemed impossible—

He didn’t realize that his palm was sweating nervously.

When the dust finally settled,

that pale and dirty face appeared before him again. At first, he was stunned for a moment, then unexpectedly let out a sigh of relief.

There was no large wound on her head, no blood pouring down her face. Although she looked awful, she was still alive—

No, wait.

Lu Zhaohe reacted belatedly, his face turning grim.

…Why was he so worried about her?

It felt so wrong, as if it was an unconscious reaction.

He should—and must—feel this way.

He tilted his head slightly and caught a glance of Lu Zhaoshuang’s expression.

Obviously, he wasn’t the only one who felt that way just now.

But there was no time to think further.

Lu Zhaohe felt a slight irritation at his own earlier reaction.

Just as he was about to stand up and leave, the girl struggled and stretched out a hand from the rubble, grabbing the corner of his clothes.

Her hand was scratched in several places, and blood slowly seeped from the wounds on her forearm, flowing down her skin mixed with dust and debris, even the spaces under her fingernails were dirty and stained with grayish blood.

His clothes were also dirtied along with her grip.

“Don’t go,”

The girl grabbed his hand tighter with that injured hand, gasping for breath as she struggled to say,

“…Save me.”

Lu Zhaohe raised an eyebrow. He crouched down, resting his arm on his knee, lowering his back, and looked into her eyes.

“Save you? Why should I?”

Zhaoxue closed her eyes.

“Your head got smashed like that, and you still think you can turn around?” The young man sneered mercilessly.

“Save me, I owe you a favor.”

Zhaoxue swallowed her dry throat, the metallic taste of blood sliding down her esophagus.

“If you ever need anything later, you can come to me…”

“A favor? Are you kidding me?”

A ridiculous smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “Who do you think you are? A mortal without any spiritual power—how could you possibly owe me a favor? Besides, at this point, I don’t even know your name—”

“Shen Zhaoxue.”

She said, “My name is Shen Zhaoxue… Zhaoyang is my eldest sister. Even if I can’t help you in the future, you can still seek my eldest sister…”

“Zhaoyang of the Hidden Sword Sect, Liuguang Peak,”

Lu Zhaoshuang’s voice sounded then, “The legitimate eldest daughter of the Shen family, the Sword Sovereign’s junior sister.”

“Oh, so what if that’s the case? We—”

Lu Zhaohe’s expression changed as he realized something. “The formation in Yucheng that the Sword Sovereign personally came to ask for help with… was that for you?”

“Yes…”

Zhaoxue grew anxious and coughed up a mouthful of blood, “But it’s not just that…!”

Bright, glaring scarlet blood stained Lu Zhaohe’s clothes and shoes in a large patch, falling together with her tears.

“If I die, you will become enemies with Liuguang Peak. But if you save me, Liuguang Peak will owe you a favor.”

Zhaoxue lifted her head to look at him, the tears on her eyelashes shimmering, but she forced herself to stay calm and negotiate with them.

“You…”

Lu Zhaohe’s gaze became complicated for a moment. “You don’t really think the Lu family would be threatened by this, do you!?”

Zhaoxue fell silent. She lowered her head, closed her eyes, seeming either to rest or to accept her fate.

“Zhaohe.”

At that moment, Lu Zhaoshuang patted his shoulder, gently pulled aside his clothes, and dropped a bright yellow talisman into his palm.

“A binding talisman.”

Lu Zhaohe took the talisman, glanced at it with the corner of his eye, and almost laughed in anger.

“You’re about to lose your life, and you still remember to stick this on me? What, is this your last resort? Are you really so afraid I’ll leave you behind?”

He crumpled it up with one hand. “Putting this on me is just showing off your skills in front of an expert.”

“No…”

Zhaoxue kept her head lowered, fresh blood dripping from her nose down like a string of crystal-red beads. After a while, she actually raised her head and smiled at him.

Her crescent-moon-shaped eyes were bloodshot, clearly overwhelmed by unbearable pain and grievance, filled with tears—but she smiled with such pride, mixed with relief and resentment.

Lu Zhaohe was stunned for just a moment.

Then, behind them, there was a thunderous sound like a mountain collapsing.

Lu Zhaoshuang’s face suddenly changed. “No, Zhaohe—”

He snatched the crumpled talisman from Lu Zhaohe’s palm and unfolded it.

“The talisman stuck on you isn’t a secondary talisman—it’s the primary talisman.”

“In other words…”

Lu Zhaohe suddenly realized and looked up ahead.

After the smoke cleared, the giant beast howling in pain finally appeared in front of them, its terrifying figure fully revealed to everyone.

“The secondary talisman was stuck on that guy over there. If he’s more than fifty meters away from you, he feels the piercing pain—so that’s why it was chasing you like that. But just now, you destroyed the talisman, so the effect can’t transfer anymore.”

Zhaoxue wiped the blood from the corner of her lips and looked at Lu Zhaohe, her eyes strangely calm.

“Sorry. But now, you have no choice but to deal with it.”

Zhaoxue was very clear.

She never had any illusions about those kinds of people saving her, nor did she ever think threats would work on two young masters from wealthy families who had grown up with silver spoons in their mouths.

So from the very beginning, what she had in mind was this:

Create a desperate situation so they had no choice but to face it.

From the moment she heard their voices, she had already made up this plan.

Leaning against the corner, Zhaoxue closed her eyes and took a few pills. Only then did she feel the blood slowly stop flowing from her wounds, and the chaotic flow of qi and blood inside her gradually settled.

Her breathing slowly steadied, and her strength began to recover bit by bit.

【Host, that was really close just now!】

The system sighed for her, 【If those two bad guys hadn’t come to check on you… the plan wouldn’t have worked!】

“Is that so…”

Zhaoxue was silent for a moment, “Maybe that was possible. But I just felt that they would come.”

She looked straight ahead.

Having retreated to a temporarily safe place, the two of them were entangled in battle with the magical beast. She couldn’t see how the fight was going, but she could imagine it.

It must be extremely fierce.

【That magical beast is very tough to deal with, even they might not be able to defeat it,】 the system said, 【Of course, while it may not be defeated, escaping safely is always possible. Host, you don’t need to feel any psychological burden over this.】

“What psychological burden could I possibly have?”

Zhaoxue rested and then began wrapping her wounds to prevent them from reopening or getting infected. “From the moment I made this decision, I knew I was choosing this path, didn’t I?”

“Besides,”

Zhaoxue lowered her head, hugged her knees, and looked at her toes, unintentionally speaking aloud, “To be honest, even if I die here today, I wouldn’t be surprised. To have seen so many vast, magnificent, and strange worlds I’ve never seen before—even if this is just a dream, it would still be worth it.”

“What dream?”

A voice sounded above her, carrying tired breaths and a hint of dismissive curiosity.

Zhaoxue suddenly looked up.

The young man was retracting the spiritual energy flowing through his fingertips. He was drenched in sweat, his high ponytail a little messy. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks from the sweat. Drops fell from his jawline, traced down his porcelain-white neck, and slipped into his collar.

Seeing her startled expression, he raised an eyebrow. “You don’t really think I’m dead, do you?”

“No, it’s just…”

Lu Zhaoshuang stepped forward as well.

He swung his long sword, blood streaking along the polished blade. The young man leisurely sheathed the sword, then wiped the blood smears off his cheek with his knuckles.

“Not dead,” he said coldly, “Broke three legs, and ran off.”

Not dead but seriously injured, he likely wouldn’t come back here soon. If they encountered the eldest sister and the others, that would be enough to handle the situation.

“Why are you still here? Aren’t you leaving?”

Lu Zhaohe asked her.

Zhaoxue was momentarily stunned, her eyes wide open.

“Don’t tell me you want to wait here to die all alone?” He curled the corner of his mouth. “Don’t forget, even if that magical beast isn’t here, others might still come—and it could be even more dangerous.”

“I know.”

“Can you handle that?”

“…”

“Then hurry up and follow us!”

Zhaoxue was only stunned for a moment before she immediately sat up from the ground. Limping, she supported herself against the stone wall and followed the two of them.

…She was a little scared.

Why else would they want her to come along? Was it so they could keep torturing and humiliating her later?

“Don’t misunderstand, I just don’t want to make an enemy out of the Sword Sovereign!”

A loud voice suddenly came from ahead.

Only then did Zhaoxue breathe a sigh of relief and whispered, “…I understand.”

—

Water dripped with a ticking sound inside the cave.

The uneven stone path, the faint light filtering through cracks in the rock, the damp moldy air, and occasional blocked passages by rubble.

Zhaoxue followed behind the two as they walked slowly for a while, hearing them discuss the fork in the road ahead.

It seemed they reached a decision.

“Take the right path.” The two finally decided.

Zhaoxue asked, “Aren’t we going to the Sword Tomb?”

Lu Zhaohe glanced at her. “How do you know?”

“I overheard your conversation.”

“…”

“If you’re going to the Sword Tomb, you have to take the left path.”

“The cave collapsed so badly—you knew that?” Lu Zhaohe raised his voice.

“When we were outside, my eldest sister showed me the location of the Sword Tomb,” Zhaoxue took a breath before speaking, “so even when I can’t see, I can roughly tell the direction.”

Lu Zhaohe glanced at his older brother.

Zhaoxue added, “Later, Zhaoyang gave you all an old blueprint of that old mansion, right? I drew it. Only someone who spent a night there like me could draw it.”

Lu Zhaoshuang pressed his lips and finally said, “Take the left.”

After speaking, he led the way down the left fork.

Lu Zhaohe, however, grew somewhat interested. He slowed his pace and patiently waited for Zhaoxue to catch up beside him before asking, “Have you studied it?”

“Studied what?”

“Formation arrays.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

Zhaoxue’s face was very pale, and her lips trembled slightly when she spoke, as if she barely had the strength or will to talk.

Only then did Lu Zhaohe clearly see her expression and instinctively frowned, “Are you feeling unwell?”

Zhaoxue closed her eyes and finally couldn’t help but say, “Of course.”

He had expected her to retort or argue, but surprisingly, she didn’t.

“…If you’re in pain, why don’t you say so?”

“…?”

Zhaoxue was a bit surprised, but she barely had the strength to keep her eyelids open, so she didn’t have the energy to mock him.

“You’re thinking, ‘What good does it do to say it?’ right?”

Lu Zhaohe’s voice came from behind this time.

“To be honest, I really want to know… what kind of life you lived in the Shen family.”

Zhaoxue finally stopped in her tracks.

She turned her head back—

—and saw that youth’s dim and shadowed gaze.

His face was half-hidden in the light, wearing that rare look of seriousness. His eyes locked onto her without wavering.

“You’re that afraid of being abandoned… Have you been left behind by others—many times?”

Zhaoxue’s heart, at his words, felt as though it had been pricked by a needle.

Suddenly tightening.

Lu Zhaohe continued, “You might not believe this, but when I saw you running for your life, I didn’t actually get up intending to leave you behind.”

“I…”

He lowered his long lashes and turned his head away. With that movement, the mole at the corner of his eye came into the light, vivid against the fading flush on his cheeks and near his eyes. In that moment, his gaze revealed a childlike confusion and helplessness.

“When I saw you were okay, I unexpectedly felt relieved. It was like… I was okay too. So originally, I really did just want to take you with me. Especially since, you…”

“You begged me then, didn’t you?”

Silence fell.

Inside the dark, damp cave, the only sounds were the soft dripping of water from the stone walls and the girl’s heavy, ragged breathing.

The youth walking far ahead also slowly came to a stop without realizing it.

…It was strange.

Her painful, gasping breaths—somehow—they felt like they were right next to his ear, each one clear and sharp.

Back then, when he saw that piece of stone falling, his body had moved even faster than he thought it could—instinctively reaching out.

That night outside the secret realm, he had also inexplicably called out to Jiang Lingfeng and asked about her.

Everything he did felt like it was beyond his own control.

And hearing Lu Zhaohe’s words now, he was suddenly reminded of the rush of familiarity he had felt the moment he first saw her face.

After a long silence, the girl finally spoke. Her voice was hoarse and low.

She gently pressed her lips together and gave a pale smile:

“Well then… thank you, really…”

Lu Zhaohe looked at her—this was the third time she had smiled at him.

Was it genuine?

Or… was she mocking him again?

His ears felt slightly warm.

But he didn’t have time to think about it.

Lu Zhaohe’s eyes widened as he looked forward—

“Hey—!!”

He reached out his hand—

—and the girl collapsed weakly in front of him.

He rushed forward and caught her just in time, steadying her by the shoulders.

Only then did he realize just how frighteningly hot her body was. The skin on her neck and arms, which had been porcelain white, was now an angry, flushed red from the heat. Her eyes were tightly shut, her face twisted in pain, brows furrowed deeply. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes were constantly moving, and the fine bluish-purple veins on her skin were clearly visible.

Her dry lips were tightly pressed together, and her slightly damp black hair slipped down her neck. She looked like she had already been delirious for some time.

Her whole body felt like a pool of scalding water, soft and limp in his arms—like she might slip through his hold at any moment.

“She must have been running a fever for quite some time already.”

Lu Zhaoshuang’s voice sounded from behind him.

Lu Zhaohe was startled and quickly pressed the back of his hand to her forehead—he flinched from the heat.

Those words just now…

“Do you have any medicine?”

Lu Zhaoshuang appeared far calmer than him. He said, “Or a talisman with a freezing effect—anything that can bring her temperature down will do.”

As he spoke, he crouched down and gently lifted the girl’s arm, which had fallen to the cold ground, and began unwrapping the clumsily bandaged gauze.

“…The wound is already inflamed.”

Beside him, Lu Zhaohe anxiously rummaged through his storage ring. “I don’t have any! I have pills, but I don’t know which ones she can take… Can mortals even take a Vitality Pill?”

“And freezing talismans? Why would I have such a low-level thing? I could casually draw dozens of those when I was seven—why would I carry one around now?!”

Lu Zhaoshuang decisively stood up, ready to turn and leave. “I’ll go out and find some herbs. Watch over her—”

He suddenly froze.

——A burning-hot hand had tightly hooked around his left pinky finger, gripping firmly,

As if afraid that letting go would make him disappear.

The girl’s weak voice sounded in the darkness, broken and trembling:

“…Don’t leave me.”

She seemed to be choking up, her hoarse, pitiful plea barely holding together:

“Don’t leave me… alone again.”

Lu Zhaoshuang turned back and saw a clear teardrop sliding from the corner of her tightly shut eyes, falling to the ground and mixing with the water droplets.

So full of pain and fear.

He curled his fingers slightly.

That strange, familiar feeling surged up again.

Glass beads. A bamboo-woven bird. A rattle drum. A tiny baby in a rocking vine cradle, holding his finger. Innocent, carefree laughter.

And in the end… an empty cradle.

Lu Zhaoshuang’s face suddenly darkened, as if recalling something deeply unpleasant.

He gently pulled her hand away and said only one thing—”I’ll be right back”—before turning and leaving.