Chapter 27 (Part 1)

While Shanshui could still cry for help, Yu Zhengzheng found herself in a far more awkward position.

Who could she call for help?

Xiang Feng was out of the question. She mocked him and An Ning daily; he probably held grudges against her by now.

As for Yu Jiangjiang and the others, they’d likely celebrate her demise rather than lend a hand.

That left only two people: the Ghost King and Xiao Yuqing.

The former was a pipe dream. Everyone knew the Ghost King was ruthless and heartless. If he didn’t kick her further into the quicksand, it would already be a mercy.

Her only remaining hope was Xiao Yuqing. But risking one’s life for a stranger in such perilous conditions was no small request.

As she hesitated, Xiang Feng and the others hurried over.

Rong Shang trailed leisurely behind them, strolling as if he’d just finished a hearty dinner and was out for a relaxing walk.

Seeing his calm and carefree demeanor, Yu Zhengzheng wished she could drag him into the quicksand to let him experience the thrill for himself.

His composure stood in stark contrast to Xiang Feng’s frantic alarm.

Shanshui calling out “Master” was a subconscious reaction, or perhaps an ingrained habit. In her heart, Xiang Feng had been the kindest person to her since she gained sentience.

When she was gripped by panic, it was natural that he came to her mind first.

But as she saw him disregarding everything and rushing forward, Shanshui quickly waved her hands in alarm, “Master, there’s something strange here, don’t come over—”

The quicksand had already reached their knees. Xiang Feng’s face was pale, but he forced himself to calm down.

Shanshui wasn’t wrong—this place was indeed peculiar.

Shayu Valley had once been the stronghold of demonic cultivators. After they set their sights on stealing the ghost king’s primordial spirit, the news somehow leaked, reaching the ghost king’s ears. Enraged, the ghost king launched a direct assault on their lair, decimating them with heavy casualties and nearly wiping out their entire clan. The surviving demonic cultivators were forced to flee, leaving Shayu Valley in ruins.

Shayu Valley was a necessary route between the human realm and the Guixu Mountains. Xiang Feng had frequently passed through here while taking on jobs outside to earn spiritual stones for the Ghost Sect. Yet this was the first time he had encountered such a situation.

There had always been quicksand here, but at most, it would reach a traveler’s waist if they were careless—not enough to swallow someone whole.

Xiang Feng’s gaze fell on the blood-soaked sand not far behind them. Coupling this with the earlier cries for help from a Penglai disciple, he deduced the source of the blood staining the quicksand.

Within three to five meters around them, there was nothing but quicksand. Rescuing Shanshui was impossible—he couldn’t even reach her.

Watching them sink deeper, Xiang Feng suddenly thought of something and hurriedly said, “Shanshui, turn back into your original form immediately!”

He was too far from Shanshui, and there were no vines or sufficiently long objects nearby to assist in a rescue. If she transformed into her coffin form, which was over two meters long, and he combined that with the length of his Chixiao Sword, he might just be able to pull her out.

This thought brought him a slight sense of relief.

But in the next moment, as soon as his tension eased, it tightened again.

Shanshui refused to cooperate. Her body was rigid, and she didn’t make a move.

She didn’t want to turn into a coffin—not in front of Anning, at least.

Xiang Feng had no idea what was going through her mind. Seeing her remain motionless, his face filled with urgency. Gritting his teeth, he growled, “Listen to me! Transform back into your original form now.”

Shanshui hung her head in silence, unwilling to respond.

Yu Zhengzheng sensed Shanshui’s inner turmoil. She understood that no matter how much Xiang Feng yelled, Shanshui wouldn’t revert to her coffin form.

Perhaps influenced by Anning, Shanshui had been changing noticeably lately.

Previously, she had never felt ashamed about being a coffin; in fact, she had taken pride in it. Yu Zhengzheng recalled Shanshui once boasting in the Luan Hall about how comfortable she was to sleep in.

But now, Shanshui felt self-conscious and ashamed of her coffin form.

The winds in Shayu Valley grew fiercer, forcing everyone to squint their eyes shut.

Xiang Feng was beside himself with anxiety. The longer they stayed in the quicksand, the faster they sank. If this continued, their fate would mirror that of the two male disciples—reduced to a pool of blood within the quicksand.

Since Shanshui refused to transform, she stubbornly remained still. But Yu Zhengzheng couldn’t keep calm like Shanshui. She began to feel a faint sting beneath her feet.

Recalling the pained, twisted expressions of the two male disciples before they were swallowed, a cold sweat broke out on Yu Zhengzheng’s forehead.

Rong Shang leaned lazily against a rock, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched their desperate struggle, as if admiring a scenic view.

He seemed curious to see who they would call upon for help.

If they sincerely begged him, he might just show some mercy and save them.

Yu Zhengzheng’s lips trembled slightly as her hesitant gaze flitted between Xiao Yuqing and the unbothered man in white beside him.

She looked at Rong Shang and slowly opened her mouth, wavering.

Rong Shang’s smile deepened. His lazy posture shifted slightly forward, as if anticipating her plea.

Yu Zhengzheng: “Brother Xiao, save me!”

Rong Shang: “…”

Brother Xiao?

His gaze darkened, and the smile vanished from his lips as he muttered those words through clenched teeth.

Xiao Yuqing was momentarily stunned at being addressed. He looked up at her, seemingly surprised.

But he quickly concealed his reaction, masking his earlier emotion as he solemnly responded, “Miss Yu, don’t move recklessly. Let me think of a way.”

Hearing this, Rong Shang let out a faint scoff.

By the time Xiao Yuqing thought of a solution, she would likely already be dead in the quicksand.

As the tense atmosphere persisted, a silk handkerchief was suddenly blown into view by the fierce wind, appearing before Yu Zhengzheng and Shanshui.

Moments later, Anning rushed out from the crowd, chasing after the handkerchief with quick strides.

Before anyone could react, Anning had already stepped into the quicksand.

Predictably, she sank into the quicksand as well. Panic filled her eyes, yet she stubbornly stretched her arm upward, trying to catch the floating handkerchief.

The handkerchief was a gift from her master, and she cherished it deeply.

Xiang Feng was on the verge of breaking down at this sight.

He hadn’t even managed to rescue one person, and now another had gone in after a mere handkerchief, practically throwing her life away.

Taking a deep breath, he unsheathed the Chixiao Sword.

Shayu Valley was eerily peculiar today, as if someone had orchestrated the entire situation.

Flying over the quicksand with his sword would likely be perilous, but even so, he had no choice but to try.

The quicksand had already reached Shanshui’s thighs. Refusing to revert to her coffin form, this was the only solution he could think of.

Stepping steadily onto the Chixiao Sword, Xiang Feng advanced toward Shanshui at a measured pace. Compared to the recently trapped Anning, Shanshui’s situation was far graver.

Hovering just above the quicksand, Xiang Feng moved forward inch by inch. Each step felt heavier, and progress was grueling.

The three to five meters between them felt like an endless sea. Holding his breath, Xiang Feng finally managed to stretch out his hand and reach Shanshui.

He extended his taut arm toward Shanshui. “Give me your hand.”

Shanshui’s eyes brimmed with tears. She hesitantly extended her hand, trembling. “Master…”

Just as Xiang Feng was about to grasp her small hand, a sharp scream from An Ning broke through the air behind him.

An Ning, struggling to grab the silk handkerchief, writhed and flailed in the quicksand, sinking at an alarming rate—faster than both Yu Zhengzheng and Shanshui.

In a mere blink, the quicksand had swallowed her up to her waist. Her expression contorted in unbearable pain. “Brother Xiang Feng, it hurts…”

The quicksand around An Ning began to darken with blood, vividly overlapping with the tragic fate of the two male disciples who had perished earlier.

Xiang Feng clenched his open hand into a fist, turned back, and flew toward An Ning. He grabbed her and yanked her out of the quicksand in one swift motion.

Shanshui stared blankly at her outstretched hand. Her lips parted slightly, trembling twice.

Master… abandoned her?

Meanwhile, learning from Xiang Feng’s approach, Xiao Yuqing attempted to inch toward Yu Zhengzheng across the quicksand with painstaking slowness.

Yu Jiangjiang shot her a resentful glare. Xiao Yuqing and Yu Zhengzheng were neither relatives nor acquaintances—what right did she have to expect him to risk his life for her?

Why did every man Yu Jiangjiang took a liking to always end up drawn to Yu Zhengzheng? Why must Yu Zhengzheng snatch everything she desired?

In Yu Jiangjiang’s eyes, Yu Zhengzheng was nothing but a walking disaster.

Completely oblivious to the venomous gaze, Yu Zhengzheng was fixated on Xiao Yuqing. Witnessing his snail-paced progress brought her to the verge of tears.

The stinging pain in her feet intensified, as though knives were carving into her flesh. Her tears streamed down uncontrollably, her reddened nose sniffling from crying.

Initially, Rong Shang had planned to teach her a lesson for calling out “Brother Xiao.” Since she seemed to think Xiao Yuqing could save her, he decided to let her wait and see.

But seeing her endure the pain, with red-rimmed eyes and restrained sobs, irritated him.

How was Xiao Yuqing this useless?

It was merely a few steps. Even crawling would’ve been faster than this.

Rong Shang scoffed softly. It seemed he would have to step in after all.

Taking a few leisurely steps forward, his ears suddenly caught Yu Zhengzheng’s anguished scream. The quicksand near her began to flush with blood. Perhaps drawn by the scent, whatever lay hidden beneath the sand grew eager, accelerating its assault.