Chapter 174 - A Wolf's Devotion
Li Qiao opened his eyes beneath the surface of the freezing lake.
Sound and light were sequestered in a distant realm. His body drifted within a boundless, viscous darkness, his chaotic thoughts slowly coalescing, yet he could not for the life of him remember how he had ended up here.
The last memory he could grasp was of that desolate island, ravaged by a violent storm. He had been hunted by over a dozen elite experts from the Villa. After slaying several of them amidst the jagged cliffs and precipices, he had leaped into the void, retreating toward the bay along a pre-planned route. Di Mo’s men had been relentless; in addition to the original trio from the Jia Battalion, more pursuers had joined the fray mid-way. He could feel the perimeter tightening around him. Only after exhausting his strength to carve a bloody opening through their ranks did he finally reach the mist-shrouded shore.
In that desperate moment, he had made a reckless gamble. He had slipped onto a ship belonging to the Falling Sands Sect.
It was a massive, silent vessel. There seemed to be no one aboard; it was so quiet that he could hear nothing but his own ragged breathing and the frantic thrumming of his heart. Gripping his Qingwu Blade, he had searched for a place to hide, preparing himself for a final, bitter stand.
He didn't know how much time had passed. The voices and lanterns flickering along the shore gradually faded into the distance, and the rain began to taper off. A thick fog rolled over the water, seemingly possessed of its own life as it slowly swallowed the ship from bow to stern, until everything was submerged in a world of grey and white.
Suddenly, a door had swung open behind him. He barely had time to turn and swing his blade before a gust of wind, heavy with fragrance, rushed at his face. He held his breath to counter it, but in the next heartbeat, he was forced against the gunwale and knocked into the lake.
He could remember nothing after that. When he opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by the icy waters of Lixin Lake.
The sensation was both familiar and alien. He vaguely recalled falling into the water once before, after that round-faced swordsman had shattered his weapon, but he had never ventured into such profound depths. Beneath his feet, the abyss seemed bottomless. Tiny bubbles rose from the darkness like the breath of some submerged leviathan.
He moved his stiff, numb limbs, swimming toward the faint light above. This time, there were no tangled weeds or aquatic plants to ensnare him; he broke free from that watery hell with ease.
He breached the surface, dragging his body—caked in silt and grit—onto the riverbank. He had returned to the shores of Lixin Lake under the cover of night.
The summer air was slightly humid. He rolled over on the shingle, exhausted, only to find that the storm clouds had dispersed. The moon hung large and bright in the center of the night sky, its silver radiance flowing silently across the lake's surface. The damp pebbles pressed painfully into his spine, and the reeds rustled in the wind. Every sound—the gentle lapping of the water against the shore—felt rhythmic and monotonous.
The briny scent of the lake vanished, replaced by a familiar aroma tinged with the smell of woodsmoke. Then, he heard the sound of another person breathing.
It was a woman’s breath—shallow, hurried, and drawing closer until it stopped beside him.
In the next moment, droplets of lake water fell upon him. He felt the weight of a drenched woman pressing directly onto his chest. After calling his name several times without receiving a response, she began to rhythmically pump his chest.
She was very light. He had known this since the day he carried her back to Tingfeng Hall in the rain. He should have been able to throw her off with ease, yet for some reason, he couldn't even twitch a finger. His body had become as rigid as stone, while his limbs felt waves of weakness, allowing himself to be molded by her touch.
Finally, she seemed to have finished the compressions and stopped. Just as he thought he could finally sit up, she suddenly reached out and pinched his jaw, forcing his mouth open. She leaned down, her lips accurately sealing over his.
She was breathing life into him, yet he felt as though a portion of his soul was being drawn out of his body. He seemed to have experienced this once before; for a moment, he couldn't distinguish if that time was this time, only feeling that the previous instance hadn't been nearly as vivid or intense as this.
He could almost feel her warm breath. He craved that tenderness so deeply that he moved to seek more, but she had already pulled away.
"A-jie?"
He heard his own voice calling her, filled with an irrepressible heartbeat and the cautious trepidation of one who was lost.
Then, he saw the woman raise her hand to gently brush over his eyes.
He obediently closed them, feeling her hand softly caress his cheek. Her fingertips were cool and supple, carrying a faint fragrance, yet everywhere they passed felt as though they were igniting a trail of fire. His skin began to burn, growing hotter than when he had been scorched by the thermal springs.
"A-jie..."
A sigh of contentment rose from deep within his chest. He tilted his head, pressing closer to that hand, yearning for more solace and warmth.
The hand slid down his neck, slowly drifting to his heart before coming to a rest. His heart hammered violently against his ribs in response to her movements. He felt the fire seeping from his skin into his flesh and bone, threatening to consume him entirely.
Then, he heard a peal of laughter.
The laughter was melodious, yet beneath the surface lay an undetectable, seductive charm that would intoxicate any listener.
But... she never laughed like that.
The faint scent of mint tore through the lingering fragrance. Li Qiao’s eyes snapped open.
His light brown eyes were still slightly out of focus, his lashes trembling. Reflected in his pupils was a woman’s face, as enchanting as a demon’s. Zhu Fuxue’s face was mere inches from his own, her expression wearing a look of lingering satisfaction.
Before his mind could fully clear from the hallucinations, his body reacted instinctively. Li Qiao’s left hand reached for his waist, only to find it empty. His right hand lashed out with a vicious palm strike, but his aim was off, and she dodged it with effortless grace.
"Why have you woken so soon?" There was a hint of surprise in Zhu Fuxue’s voice, but it was mostly eclipsed by the gratification of a spectator. "A single mace of Infant-Hiding Incense costs ten gold pieces. Even an old monk with thirty years of meditation would be lost in it for an entire night. Why didn't you enjoy it for a while longer?"
The drug made his eardrums feel as though they were muffled by fog, causing Zhu Fuxue’s voice to sound both distant and near. Li Qiao shook his head slightly. As his gaze drifted downward, he realized that he had been changed into white robes identical to those worn by the "Jade Flutes." He raised a hand to touch his face; the meticulous disguise crafted by Uncle Ji had already been stripped away by the woman.
Zhu Fuxue watched his movements lazily. The wind tossed her long hair and the hem of her skirt, making her shadow dance upon the deck as if it might break free from her body at any moment. Four handsome disciples stood behind her with bowed heads, resembling the paper effigies used in ritual ceremonies, silently awaiting their deity.
"I only like beautiful things. If you want to board my ship, you must use your original face."
Li Qiao remained silent, struggling to push himself upright. The swaying of the ship and the lingering incense in his system kept him in a state of vertigo. By the time he managed to stand steady, his white robes were nearly soaked through with sweat.
He clenched his left hand. Some of the medicinal salve she had given him still remained there; it had spread due to the water, and the minty medicinal scent slowly enveloped him, clearing his thoughts.
He finally remembered how he had left Qionghu Island.
He had indeed fled from the southern cliffs to the bay, and he had indeed boarded the Falling Sands Sect's ship. At the time, he believed his choice was correct. The disciples of the World's Number One Villa had searched every vessel moored in the bay, yet none dared to brazenly search the Falling Sands Sect's ship. After lingering for a moment, they had hurried away.
The ship was peculiar. Any intruder who boarded would be tainted by a colorless, odorless scent-trigger. It would only be activated upon contact with another fragrance worn by Zhu Fuxue—a hidden and undetectable trap. He had hidden in the shadows, and only after confirming the Villa’s men had left did he fall prey to her schemes.
He wasn't sure if the Villa’s disciples had stayed away because they knew of this, or if the only reason he had been able to board the ship was because someone wanted to lure the tiger into a trap.
Li Qiao slowly raised his head. Strength was returning to his ten fingers. Before long, his left hand would be able to grip a blade again.
"You will regret not killing me outright."
The incense made his voice raspier than usual, but to Zhu Fuxue’s ears, it was exceptionally pleasing. She narrowed her eyes. A faint, ghostly fragrance drifted from her fluttering sleeves, teasing the desires of anyone afflicted by her scent-trigger.
The agile disciples knelt at her feet. She reached out, wantonly stroking those young, beautiful faces. Finally, after contemplating their numb and hollow gazes, she spoke lazily.
"Finished eating and now you want to flip the table? It would be a pity if I were the only one to see you as you were just now. Perhaps I should invite your A-jie onto this ship to watch with me. She is your shopkeeper and your elder sister; normally, you wouldn't even dare to touch her hand, would you?"
Her words successfully plunged the youth into silence. Zhu Fuxue laughed, her voice gaining a seductive edge.
"You cannot have her, but what of it? Believe me, in the deep well of desire, it is pitch black. It doesn't matter who you are with; what matters is who can give you this eternal pleasure. Stay with me and you can enjoy this every day. Is that not better?"
The youth in white lowered his head. Sweat dripped from his brow, soaking into the pearl-powdered deck. The dream created by the incense had indeed given him something he desired but dared not ask for. Because he had never possessed it, it became the ultimate temptation.
He understood the Falling Sands Sect, he understood Zhu Fuxue, and he understood the laws of survival in this martial world better than anyone. He did not doubt that going to her side would mean he would never again have to wander in fear for his survival. He could forget everything and immerse himself in a hell of pleasure until death.
But he would never be satisfied.
Whether at the bottom of Qionghu, in the dark caverns, or on the cliffs surrounded by killing intent, the torment and pain he endured every moment could only be soothed the instant she looked at him, called his name, or touched him. It was as if a void had opened in his chest, and only she could fill it.
His face appeared even more pale and fragile against the white robes, but the expression he wore was more resolute than ever before.
"Unless she says she does not want me with her own lips, I will not leave her side by a single step."
In Zhu Fuxue’s eyes, the youth’s resolve was as light as a feather, incapable of causing a ripple. It was like the cry of a kitten throwing a tantrum. She relaxed her hand, allowing the young disciples to collapse at her feet.
"Actually, I already met your A-jie on Qionghu Island. Are you not curious why I let her go so easily?" Zhu Fuxue paused, her eyes lifting to meet his. "Because I told her everything about your background. From her reaction, I knew that the two of you would never meet again. That is why I let her leave. Otherwise, given my usual habits, why would I let a loathsome rat slip away from under my nose twice?"
Zhu Fuxue stared at the youth’s face as she spoke. As expected, the light in those beautiful eyes almost instantly extinguished. She felt as though she could hear the sound of his heart shattering. Her smile widened.
"She said she both loathes and fears you, so she didn't dare show even a hint of it. She said as soon as the opportunity arises, she will take her family and flee from you, to a place where you will never find her, never to see you again in this life..."
The woman’s voice grew more excited. she immersed herself in the joy of torturing his heart, hoping to see a blood-drenched expression on that young, handsome face.
However, to her surprise, the youth instead let out a sigh of relief. This was followed by a silent, slightly mocking smile.
"Sect Leader Zhu prides herself on her peerless cultivation and her dominance in the martial world, yet it seems her ability to tell a lie is inferior to that of a three-year-old child in a village."
The woman’s voice stopped abruptly, but she soon spoke again, her tone laced with undisguised contempt. "Do you think that just because you have some looks, that village girl would live or die for you? Nothing triumphs over the matter of life and death, especially for a lowly survivor like her."
"I am certain you are lying, not because of how she feels about me, but because of the person she is," Li Qiao said slowly, his voice growing low and soft as he spoke of her. "She would never say such things. She is a physician with great ambitions. She would sooner work herself to death than ignore a patient who came for a consultation. How could she abandon the reputation she has built over years and simply run away? Ah, I forgot. Sect Leader Zhu has never met such a physician. It is only natural you cannot weave a decent lie. I only wonder... does Sect Leader Zhu’s foot still hurt? If we were to fight, would it be somewhat inconvenient?"
The lingering, seductive atmosphere of the incense finally dissipated completely. Zhu Fuxue kicked aside the nearest disciple and slowly drew herself up. Her voice deepened, and her figure seemed to grow tall and terrifying.
"In my world, nothing is irreplaceable. Have you considered the price you must pay for provoking me?"
"Since I have decided to kill you, I will not count the cost," Li Qiao said, each word calm yet chilling. "Every profession has its rules. Even killing requires persistence and integrity. If one were to slacken because of a momentary illness, how would those who walk out of the World's Number One Villa maintain their reputation?"
Rage at being insulted surged beneath Zhu Fuxue’s skin, but for a woman like her, the desire for conquest was the hardest thing to suppress. The youth before her was entirely different from the "Jade Flutes" at her side. It was this difference that made her heart itch with anticipation.
He was obedient, yet rebellious. Even if his life as a fugitive had taught him to hide his true self, it could not easily erase the scent of the "wolf pack" he was born into. He was sharp and clever. Even knowing his chances of victory were slim, he never stopped observing her every move. The moment he found a flaw or an opportunity, he would pounce without hesitation to tear her apart.
"Bring it here."
Zhu Fuxue’s red lips parted. The young disciples at her feet scrambled up and ran into the cabin, returning shortly with a plain longsword. Zhu Fuxue grabbed the blade and threw it between herself and the youth. She walked toward him, step by barefoot step.
"I do not like hounds whose claws and teeth have been pulled. I will give you a choice. If you come to my side, today will be the first day of your rebirth. Neither Di Mo nor the World's Number One Villa will be able to touch you or keep you in constant fear. If you are determined to bare your teeth at me, I shall play a game with you to stretch my limbs. Just do not blame me for not showing mercy. By then, even if your A-jie came in person, she would not recognize your corpse."
Before Zhu Fuxue’s words even hit the deck, Li Qiao had already bent down. His hands still trembled uncontrollably, but his movements as he picked up the blade were steady and efficient, without a hint of hesitation or flaw. The sound of the Qingwu Blade unsheathing echoed across the mist-covered deck. He expertly strapped the scabbard to his back and then extended his right hand toward Zhu Fuxue.
"Where are my clothes? A-jie does not like me dressing so ostentatiously."
The casual question was like a resounding slap to the face. Zhu Fuxue stared at his brazenly extended hand, the fury in her voice no longer suppressed.
"You are nothing but a dog that has slipped its chain! You've grown wild outside and think yourself a wolf, but your nature is hard to change. As long as someone pats your head and gives you some scraps, you'll wag your tail and rush forward, eager to show off a loyalty that isn't worth a copper wen. Little do you know, no one wants a dog that has bitten people. Sooner or later, she will abandon you and loathe you. You could give your life and she would never know. Who are you performing this grand play of loyalty for?!"
The exchange of sharp words could cut as deeply as any blade. But for someone long accustomed to licking his wounds in the mud, a numb and desperate heart was enough to withstand anything.
Li Qiao withdrew his right hand and grabbed the hem of his robe. With a flash of his blade, he sliced off a long strip of fabric. He caught one end of the smooth, delicate cloth between his teeth and proceeded to bind the Qingwu Blade tightly to his left hand, as if knowing that once bound, there would be no chance to untie it.
He was born with a worthless life. Even at the brink of death, he would not pray to the heavens. Only he knew how hard he had worked, how much effort he had spent to guard this wretched life, using it to linger on in this world he so hated. He wanted the world to descend into hell; he wanted those who stood high above, trampling others, to die miserable deaths.
He had the cleverness to survive, but not the courage to resist. If he had never met her, he thought that one day he might have succumbed to the torture of the Clear Breeze Powder and the Villa, yielding to the pressure of survival and returning to the side of the countless "Zhu Fuxues" of the world.
But he had met her. He wanted her to have her heart's desire. He wanted her to live well. For that, he was willing to take up his blade and step into hell. As for what he would become, he no longer cared.
"When I first met her, I told her I would repay her kindness even in death. It is only today that I understand the meaning of my survival until now lies in this very moment." The youth slowly raised his left hand, the tip of the longsword pointing forward. "From the moment I was born until now, the most precious thing I have possessed is this life. If I can trade it today for even one more day of her life, then our meeting was not in vain."
The youth’s voice was soft, vanishing almost instantly into the wind and mist. But something remained, clinging to the listener's ear, making her itch with madness.
Zhu Fuxue raised a hand to brush away a stray hair. Her feet, planted on the cold deck, began to throb with pain again. She didn't understand any of this. She didn't understand a single word he or his A-jie said, nor did she deign to understand. She didn't understand why that village girl would save him without regret, nor why he was willing to offer his most precious life for her. She had never possessed such foolishness or loyalty, and she had never needed such things.
She could trample everything with her blood-stained feet and strangle any eyesore with her invincible Chimei.
At some point, the puppet-like young disciples on the deck had vanished. The ship, its sails full, drifted across the lake with the wind. The sharp bow cut through the water, instantly sailing into the heart of the impenetrable mist.
Zhu Fuxue’s figure flickered in and out of sight within the shifting fog. Everything seemed to return to the beginning of that hallucinatory dream.
Something silently emerged from her wide sleeves and hem. At first, it was just a sharp spike, followed by a long tail trailing behind it—several white ribbons that seemed to possess a life of their own. The soft white fabric fell in layers; though it should have been as light as falling snow, it struck the ground with the sound of clashing metal. Within the plain silk, silver-white lights flickered, twisting and turning along the path of the ribbons, turning the dancing silk into a giant python clad in silver scales. It exuded a sense of ferocity within its flexibility.
"I have lost count of how many legendary swords Chimei has snapped, how many precious blades it has broken. Di Mo was willing to tolerate me just so he could keep me to deal with you ungrateful swordsmen and sabermen."
Zhu Fuxue twisted her arm, and Chimei lunged like a serpent from its cage, instantly striking at the youth. He barely dodged, and the white weapon coiled around a nearby mast, instantly tightening. With a dull crack, the mast—as thick as a man's thigh—shattered, its lacquer splintering and wood chips flying as it was crushed like a dry stalk of rice.
"Why are you hiding? If you keep hiding, you'll fall into the water!"
Zhu Fuxue’s voice drifted through the mist. Chimei moved rapidly through the fog, its head and tail hidden, its tracks impossible to find.
Li Qiao couldn't see the hunter, who was as fast as a shadow, but he could smell the stench of blood kicked up by the lethal weapon. It was the scent of Xusen Silk that had been soaked in countless lives, mingled with the heavy Infant-Hiding Incense on Zhu Fuxue’s body. It formed a nauseating odor, like a great serpent that had just swallowed a rotting corpse and crawled out of a flower bed, heading straight for its next prey.
A cold wind arrived in an instant. The youth swung his blade and spun, and in a heartbeat, the Qingwu Blade was ensnared by Chimei. The trapped blade groaned under the strangulation of the white ribbon, but the youth’s grip never slackened for a second.
The residual blood in the fuller was absorbed by Chimei, and the snow-bright tip of the blade slowly broke free from its constraints, just as his own sharp edge began to reveal itself inch by inch.
"Zhu Fuxue, today you must die."
***
