Bai Yao sheathed the Refined Iron Short Sword that hung at her side, and returned the other to her Storage Pouch.
She looked up toward the mist-shrouded cliff top, where the gray fog flowed like liquid mercury, obscuring all sight.
Though she could not see Liu Linglin, the perception of the [Violet Yang Grand Harmony Art] told her that woman was at the very top.
She stepped without hesitation into the mountain path’s fog, her steps light, her robes fluttering, like an unsheathed sword cutting straight through the gray mist.
Within the illusory fog, the true meaning of the [Opening and Closing Qi Control Art] had no effect on the mist of Black Stone Cliff.
“This fog is just like the clouds I encountered by the mountain stream. It invades the mind and creates hallucinations.” Bai Yao murmured to herself, her inner qi instantly dispersing as pure white Righteous Energy.
“That being the case, it’s simple. I just need to draw my Righteous Qi inward and protect my mind and spirit.”
Bai Yao moved through the mist, her expression cold, her gaze as calm as an ancient well.
The fourteen-year-old girl’s figure looked especially frail in the fog, yet it carried an unbreakable sense of solitary resolve.
The sound of a zither came down from the mountain once more.
This time, it was no longer the heart-cleansing sound that had soothed everyone earlier, but a demonic melody filled with illusion and enticement.
The zither’s tone was mellifluous, like a woman whispering and singing by one’s ear.
Combined with the illusory fog of the mountain path, its power was amplified many times over.
The subtly vibrating sound waves flooded Bai Yao’s hearing, and even her sense of smell seemed to catch a warm, inky fragrance.
Bai Yao paused mid-step, sensing Liu Linglin’s preemptive killing strike, yet her face remained indifferent.
Clearly, this level of mental erosion was nothing compared to Gao Luan’s pitch-black shadow sword piercing directly into her body.
“Liu Linglin, your demonic melody can’t possibly be limited to this, can it?” Bai Yao let out a sneer, her clear, cold voice rippling through the pitch-black mountain fog.
Not only did she not slow down, she pressed forward even faster than before, her posture straight as a sword.
Every step was crisp and decisive, as if the demonic melody held no sway over her at all.
Bai Yao’s speed did not drop—it increased.
The zither music atop the cliff paused for a brief moment.
“Illusions have no effect on her? No… it’s the [Violet Yang Grand Harmony Art]. Righteous Qi cultivated through orthodox means is indeed stronger than ordinary Righteous Qi.”
Though slightly surprised, Liu Linglin quickly discerned why the demonic melody had failed.
Her voice drifted down from the cliff top, carrying a hint of astonishment and mockery: “No wonder you dared to come and die before me. It seems you truly did take one of those Black Stone Cliffs. However, the original true meaning of this Black Stone Cliff is ‘Yin Void as Illusion’—an illusion art on par with the legendary Illusion Heavenly Demon. Together with my Zong Heng Sect’s ‘Yang Solid as Manifest,’ they are known as the profound mysteries of Yin Void and Yang Solid. Bai Yao, do you really think you can pass the fortieth zhang?”
Her voice was seductive to the bone, the final syllable rising slightly, as if flirting with a lover.
Though Bai Yao could not hear Liu Linglin’s words, the moment she reached the fortieth zhang, her brow furrowed.
Before her eyes, black smoke koi fish condensed into substance, brimming with malice, swam through the fog.
Each one carried at least half the power of Gao Luan’s black sword shadow.
She immediately realized that to reach the cliff top quickly, she would have to use the violet-gold Righteous Qi she had planned to keep as her trump card.
While revealing her hand early would put her at a disadvantage, not doing so would introduce too many variables.
Unless she could ascend to the cliff top in one go, she knew full well that with Liu Linglin’s methods, there would be even more disgusting tricks to wear her down.
“Hm? What’s this?” Just as Bai Yao was about to reveal her trump card, a strange movement came from her Storage Pouch.
It was Gao Luan’s black short sword, craving to devour these black strands of mist formed from malice.
It radiated a bestial hunger, and Bai Yao could feel the blade growing warm even through the pouch’s wall.
In an instant, a memory flashed through Bai Yao’s mind—a passage from a weapon manual in the Xia Manor’s library, mentioning “transcendent immortal weapons” that possessed self-awareness.
Yet her own Righteous Qi seemed to violently reject this black sword’s aura.
Should she take it out and try?
This doubt made Bai Yao hesitate for quite a while at the fortieth zhang.
Sensing Bai Yao’s hesitation, Liu Linglin slowed her demonic melody, her voice drifting lazily down from the cliff top:
“Bai Yao, don’t back out so easily. Otherwise, this humble one won’t have the chance to send you off at the fortieth zhang.”
Her tone was languid and alluring, filled with the satisfaction of a cat toying with a mouse.
But Bai Yao did not keep Liu Linglin waiting for long.
What’s more, she did something completely beyond Liu Linglin’s expectations.
She actually dispersed all her Righteous Qi.
The protective pure white glow extinguished in an instant, leaving her fully exposed to the malevolent black mist.
Her plain white robes embroidered with magnolia patterns looked especially thin and solitary in the fog.
“What?! Bai Yao, have you lost your mind?” Liu Linglin was utterly dumbfounded.
She never imagined Bai Yao would do such a thing, so much so that she missed the once-in-a-lifetime perfect chance to kill.
And by the time she reacted, Bai Yao had already drawn the black short sword from her Storage Pouch.
The black sword rested at Bai Yao’s side, held upon the mountain path at the fortieth zhang, like a red-hot branding iron plunged into water for quenching.
The originally calm and condensed black mist strands instantly erupted into violent turmoil, and within a single zhang, the black mist fish were devoured by the black sword in a state of near-inescapability.
The blade let out a satisfied hum, like a starving beast finally sinking its teeth into fresh, delicious flesh.
“What is that thing!” Liu Linglin cried out in shock, even her zither music faltering.
The black sword inherently rejected Bai Yao, causing her expression to turn ugly in an instant, with fine cold sweat beading at her temples.
But she quickly suppressed it, gritted her teeth, and pressed upward with the sword.
Bai Yao moved like a bolt of plain white lightning, charging up to the fifty-zhang cliff top in one breath at a speed no slower than before.
By then, the dense fog behind her had already been completely devoured.
The young girl’s bearing was sharp and resolute, without a hint of hesitation.
Liu Linglin’s zither strings snapped at that very moment, letting out a harsh cracking sound.
Bai Yao stepped onto the cliff top platform with sword in hand.
At this moment, white robes, black sword, and the Red Mulberry Tree formed an image of striking contrast.
She came to a stop, standing straight as a pine.
Her cold, beautiful face held no expression, save for a trace of violet-gold light swirling deep within her eyes.
The mountain wind lifted the blood-stained strands of hair from her forehead, revealing a face still marked by youth yet already set with killing intent.
“Liu Linglin, your demonic melody doesn’t seem to work very well.”
Bai Yao spoke, her voice as cold as snowfield ice.
Across from her, Liu Linglin sneered in return, slowly drawing a thin sword from beside her broken-stringed zither.
As she rose, her waist swayed gently like a weak willow in the breeze.
Each step she took was an alternating catwalk, her toes touching the ground without a sound.
The curves of her waist and hips were faintly visible beneath her sheer dress, so alluring it bordered on enchantment.
She stopped ten zhang from Bai Yao, her red lips curling slightly, her eyes brimming with charm, yet her stunningly beautiful face was steeped in venomous killing intent.
“Bai Yao, I really did underestimate you.”
Liu Linglin chuckled softly, running her fingertip along the edge of the thin sword.
“But… don’t think you’re the only one with a Cave Spirit’s help.”
At those words, Bai Yao’s pupils constricted sharply.
The next instant, she saw a gray raven flutter down from the mist above the cliff top, landing steadily on Liu Linglin’s shoulder.
Its aura was eerie and unnatural, not like a living thing—identical to the gray lark formed from her own Cave Spirit.