Before his words could fully land, time seemed to freeze within the temple.
In an instant, a chilling murderous intent surged. A sword shadow flashed before Ji Yanqing, severing a strand of his hair, which drifted to the ground.
The sword tip pressed against his throat—one inch closer, and it would claim his life. Ji Qingyan’s eyes glinted with hatred, her icy killing intent making his hair stand on end.
Cold sweat trickled down his face.
“Say that again.”
Ji Qingyan gripped her famed sword [Chengying], exuding an overwhelming pressure. Just standing there, she nearly forced Ji Yanqing to his knees.
A master of the Transformation Realm, with one sword, she could rout seven hundred heavy cavalry.
As the tip of [Chengying] inched closer, a bone-chilling cold spread through Ji Yanqing’s body, as if he’d been plunged into an icy abyss.
Yet, in this life-or-death moment, he remained calm.
As the ducal heir of Wei, this wasn’t his first brush with assassination. Countless people in the world wanted him dead.
When he was still a child, a maid in the household had tried to drown him in a well. He fought desperately but couldn’t break free, his head already pushed to the well’s edge, only to be saved by a guard rushing in at the last moment.
That was his first assassination attempt, as far as he could remember. Tonight’s attack by the black-clad swordsmen marked the forty-seventh.
In a way, Ji Yanqing was an expert in surviving assassination attempts.
Since he’d already spoken, he had no choice but to commit to the act.
The task only required him to reveal his true name—it didn’t force him to admit he was the Ji Yanqing.
What’s a game without exploiting bugs? (Tactical lean back)
Besides, despite the Wei Duke’s vast wealth and influence, altering someone’s innate talent was a defiance of heaven’s will—even the Yanxia Dynasty’s emperor couldn’t manage it.
Only by harnessing otherworldly powers could it be done.
To avoid the doomed endings in Ji Yanqing’s mind, aside from accumulating good deeds and lying low, constantly improving his strength was crucial.
In a fantasy world, fists did the talking.
But his pitiful innate talent had kept his cultivation stuck at the third layer of Qi Condensation for years.
And that was with the aid of pills.
“Since you’re an enemy of the Wei Duke’s household, I have nothing to hide.”
Leaning against the pillar, the youth gritted his teeth to steady himself, squeezing out words of resentment with his last ounce of strength.
“That’s right! I’m a survivor of the Ye City massacre years ago, the wretched spawn Ji Yanqing desperately wants silenced—a person with a blood feud, irreconcilable with him!”
“What do you mean?” Ji Qingyan’s delicate brows furrowed, her eyes filled with confusion.
“I lived on the outskirts of Ye City, with a house and fields, my parents alive, and a beautiful sister. Life was blissful… until…”
The ducal heir choked, mentally cycling through the saddest moments of his life to force out a few tears, all while brainstorming how to weave this melodramatic tragedy.
“Who could’ve imagined, years ago on a rainy night, that bastard Ji Yanqing stormed into our home with his lackeys, kidnapped my sister, and ordered my parents beaten to near death… They didn’t survive, and my sister, defiled and pregnant with that beast’s child, couldn’t bear the shame and hanged herself…”
By this point, his peach-blossom eyes misted over. Ji Yanqing covered his face, as if unwilling to let anyone witness his “true emotions.”
In truth, the ducal heir only frequented brothels for music and song. Stories of him abducting women were pure fiction.
You could slander Ji Yanqing’s character, but not his taste! Not just any plain Jane could catch his eye.
Were the courtesans at the Moonlit Pavilion not beautiful enough, their skin not fair enough? Were the dancers’ figures not graceful, their moves not alluring? Why would he, stuffed and satisfied, bother abducting women off the streets?
“For years, I’ve lived incognito, enduring humiliation as a study companion in the Wei Duke’s household, all to one day act as an insider, make the Ji clan father and son suffer, and avenge this blood feud!”
Ji Yanqing’s teeth chattered, his eyes bloodshot, as if he truly harbored a deep grudge against the Wei Duke’s household.
Gazing at the beautiful youth immersed in grief, a trace of pity flickered in Ji Qingyan’s eyes.
Both were fallen souls, harmed by the Ji clan father and son—why press him further?
Her sword slowly lowered.
In terms of cunning, Ji Qingyan was still too young. Strong as she was, she hadn’t yet seen the world’s treachery.
In an instant, the crushing pressure on Ji Yanqing vanished. Only then did his lips curl into a faint, wicked smile, gone in a flash.
[Excellent. You’ve begun to erode this woman’s guard. Next, lure her back to the Wei Duke’s household, slip her a drug to make her body feel… strange, and you can do whatever you want with such a beauty…]
Ignoring the narrator, Ji Yanqing took a step toward the red-clad girl, his gaze resolute and words earnest.
“Miss Ji, will you join me to infiltrate the Wei Duke’s household, slay the Ji clan villains, and rid the world of this scourge?”
Ji Qingyan nodded without hesitation. “To punish evil is my duty.”
The naive girl had no idea she’d already fallen into the ducal heir’s trap.
Hearing this, Ji Yanqing’s tense body finally relaxed. Exhaustion and weakness surged, his vision darkened, and with a thud, he collapsed, fainting.
Acting was acting, but his wounds hadn’t been properly treated. Blood had been flowing since Ji Qingyan entered!
[Ding! Option task completed. Reward: Enhanced innate talent. Host’s low-grade Ding talent has been upgraded to top-grade Jia.]
Seeing this, Ji Qingyan cautiously prodded the unconscious youth with her scabbard, asking, “Are… you okay?”
Aside from her master, she rarely interacted with outsiders, let alone spent time with a stranger of her age in the middle of the night in the wilderness.
Looking at Ji Yanqing’s strikingly handsome face, Ji Qingyan felt a slight stir in her heart. He, like her, was a victim of the Ji clan, an enemy of the Wei Duke’s household.
After a moment’s thought, she decided to save him.
Ji Qingyan reached out, placing her fingers on his pale, almost sickly wrist. His skin was cold and smooth, like glazed porcelain from an imperial kiln.
Even a girl might envy such skin.
Her spiritual energy flowed into the unconscious youth, coursing through his meridians. His condition was as she expected.
His cultivation was weak, only at the third layer of Qi Condensation, but he had at least seven critical wounds, countless superficial ones, and blood still seeping out. He was barely clinging to life.
Surviving this long was a miracle.
Ji Qingyan took a deep breath, leaned down, and untied her silk inner lining. The fabric slid to either side, revealing toned, compact muscles and a perfectly proportioned frame, like a work of art.
The young girl stared at his body, her delicate face flushing with a charming blush. This was her first time closely observing a man’s physique.
But desire was quickly cast aside. Ji Qingyan retrieved bandages and healing salve from her storage pouch to staunch his bleeding, then channeled some spiritual energy into him to clear his meridians and expel any toxins.
In the snow-quiet temple, the blood-red-clad heroine tended to the fallen ducal heir. Outside, blades lurked, hidden in the darkness.
Suddenly, bang!
A red-clad figure darted through the door’s gap like a phantom. Her sword sliced through the air, blood staining its edge, followed by sparks from clashing metal.
After a few crisp clashes of sword and blade, the night returned to silence.
Several Radiant Sun Realm swordsmen lay sprawled in a pool of blood. The red-clad girl stood like a reaper, gazing at their corpses, her famed sword [Chengying] in hand, her deerhide boots lightly stained with blood.
“Six Harmonies Blade Technique… these are the Imperial Censorate’s hounds!”
Realizing their identity, Ji Qingyan was stunned, her eyes filled with disbelief.
Then came confusion.
The Imperial Censorate oversaw all officials in the Yanxia court, wielding immense authority. Why would they venture into the Ghost Shadow Mountains just to hunt an obscure study companion?
In a daze, Ji Yanqing’s fingers twitched slightly, sensation gradually returning.
Not only that, his previously blocked twelve meridians were now fully open. The spiritual energy in his dantian was clear and pure, all impurities gone. His bones and muscles felt reforged, strong and resilient.
He had undergone a complete transformation, like a phoenix reborn.
Amid the crackling of firewood burning, he opened his eyes with some pain, vaguely making out the lit campfire, the twisted Buddha statue, and the veiled red-clad heroine.
Her three-foot sword rested in its crimson sheath beside her.
Her waist-length hair was tied in a ponytail, a black sash cinching her slender waist, accentuating her delicate figure.
Her black skirt, soaked as if in blood, paired with deerhide boots, revealed shapely calves, pale and luminous, exuding a heroic charm.
[What stunning legs—lustrous, long, and perfectly toned. Hoist them over your shoulders, and you could play for a full year. If you trick her back to the Wei Duke’s household, you might…]
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