342: Entering Qingshan Town

"I can't just sit here and wait for death!"

Enduring the agonizing pain of his Meridians nearly bursting and the evil fire churning in his Sea of Consciousness, he identified his direction. With a flicker of his body, he merged into the Void Realm once more, flying toward East Lin City.

But this time, the spatial jump became extremely sluggish. The space around him constantly warped and vibrated due to his turbulent spiritual power, and tiny black cracks even appeared as if it would collapse at any moment.

Just as he was about to lose his strength and his consciousness began to blur, he suddenly caught sight of a few faint lights flickering at the foot of a distant mountain out of the corner of his eye.

Those were signs of human habitation—perhaps a village, or maybe a small town.

"I can't worry about that now!"

Situ Jun grit his teeth and forced his last shred of clarity to gather, steering his teetering form as he stumbled toward the lights like a falling meteor.

His speed was still incredibly fast, but he had lost his usual stability. His black robes were whipped by the violent spiritual power, snapping loudly in the wind. He was like an arrow out of control, charging straight toward the foot of the mountain.

"Bang!"

A sound that wasn't loud but was clear enough to be heard rang out in the silent night, accompanied by the rustling sound of flying wood chips.

Situ Jun had actually crashed straight through a family's carved wooden window—the window was still covered with a thin layer of paper, which was now shattered into pieces, and the wooden frame was broken, scattered all over the floor.

His body was like a kite with a broken string, crossing the windowsill and crashing heavily into the room.

The soft carpeted floor cushioned some of the impact, but it still felt as if every bone in his body had been shattered, making the pain unbearable.

He struggled to get up, but the Pure Yang Power inside him surged again like a mad dog. With every movement, his Meridians felt like they were being sliced by knives, and he didn't even have the strength to lift a finger.

In the end, he could only lie on the floor, gasping for breath. His chest heaved violently, and his scorching breath hit the carpet, causing the soft fibers to curl slightly.

Only then did Situ Jun have time to look around the room where he had made his "wretched landing."

This was clearly a woman's bedroom. It wasn't large, but it was arranged very elegantly, showing refinement and gentleness everywhere.

A pearwood embroidered couch stood in the corner, covered with an azure silk quilt. The edges of the quilt were embroidered with lifelike orchids, the stitching so fine that it was clearly made with great care.

On the dressing table in the center of the room sat a bronze water-chestnut mirror. The mirror's surface was smooth and clean, clearly reflecting figures.

Several boxes of rouge and powder were neatly stacked beside the mirror, their lids carved with lotus patterns. There was also a White Jade Hairpin that hadn't been put back in its box; the head of the pin was carved into a blooming orchid, translucent and white, clearly of great value.

Three paintings of court ladies hung on the wall, the craftsmanship exquisite and the brushwork delicate.

The ladies in the paintings were either playing the zither, admiring flowers, or gazing at the moon. Their expressions were varied and lifelike, clearly the work of a master.

The air was filled with a refined fragrance of orchids, mixed with the soft scent of powder unique to women. That scent was like a clear spring in the mountains or white snow in midwinter, actually causing Situ Jun's agitated mind to calm for a moment, and the evil fire in his body seemed to weaken slightly.

"Who is it?"

A female voice, slightly trembling but still maintaining its composure, suddenly rang out.

Situ Jun looked toward the sound and saw a woman of about thirty sitting in front of the dressing table.

She was wearing moon-white sleepwear made of thin, soft fabric that clung to her body, outlining her slender yet curvaceous waist.

Over it, she wore a light green gauze robe. The hem of the robe trailed on the carpet, swaying gently with her movements, as smooth as flowing water.

Her hair was slightly loose, with a few strands of black hair falling beside her cheeks. The fine hairs on her forehead were still slightly damp; she had clearly just finished washing and was preparing to go to bed.

The woman's appearance was extremely elegant and clear. Her eyebrows were like distant mountains, long and gentle; her eyes were like autumn waters, clear and deep, yet a trace of hard-to-detect sorrow was hidden in their depths. Her skin was as white as jade, glowing faintly under the candlelight as if it would break at a touch.

Her temperament was graceful and noble, yet it carried the gentleness of a woman from the south of the Yangtze River. One could tell at a glance that she came from an extraordinary background.

She was none other than Wan Xiangyu, the wife of Steward Wang, a wealthy local of Qingshan Town.

At this moment, Wan Xiangyu was still holding the White Jade Hairpin. She had been about to put up her loose hair again, but she was frozen in place by the sudden intruder.

She looked in astonishment at the disheveled Situ Jun, who had crashed through the window. Her eyes were full of shock and confusion, and for a moment, she even forgot to speak.

Situ Jun looked up, his gaze meeting Wan Xiangyu's eyes.

Those eyes were as clear as a mountain spring, as if they could wash away all the filth in the world, causing his chaotic mind to clear a bit more.

But in the next second, he felt the evil fire within him surge abruptly, more violent than before—Wan Xiangyu's body actually faintly emitted a trace of extremely faint Yin-cold aura!

Although this aura was not as pure as a Pure Yin Physique, it was still a rare Yin-soft Physique. For Situ Jun at this moment, it was undoubtedly the "medicine" to alleviate the Pure Yang Backlash.

"You... who are you? Why have you broken into my room?"

Wan Xiangyu finally regained her senses. She put down the White Jade Hairpin and slowly stood up, instinctively taking a step back. Her voice carried a trace of nearly imperceptible trembling, but she still tried her best to maintain her composure.

Although she was born into a Cultivation Family, her talent was unfortunately poor, and she only had a Cultivation of the first level of Qi Refining. Even so, she could clearly feel the dangerous aura emanating from Situ Jun.

There were both the vast spiritual power fluctuations of a Soul Transformation Stage Cultivator and a heart-palpitating, violent evil Qi. The two types of Qi were intertwined, making her instinctively wary. She had already quietly gathered a trace of weak spiritual power in her palm, ready to defend herself at any moment.

Situ Jun opened his mouth to explain, but he was forced to groan by the surging toxic power in his body. A trace of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, and his eyes became blurred.

His black clothes were soaked with sweat, clinging to his tall frame and outlining his rapidly heaving chest.

A moment later, Situ Jun used all his strength to finally suppress the discomfort in his body and managed to squeeze out two words:

"Save... save me..."

As the words fell, his consciousness flickered like a candle in the wind. The scene before him began to blur, leaving only Wan Xiangyu's moon-white figure appearing and disappearing in the dim candlelight.

He could feel his mind rapidly fading. If he didn't find a way to channel it, he was afraid he would truly turn into a monster.

Wan Xiangyu looked at Situ Jun's pained expression and then at the blood at the corner of his mouth. The wariness in her eyes turned into a bit of hesitation.

Although she didn't know who this person was or why he had broken into her room, the aura of deathly despair made her heart soften.

After all, it was a human life. Moreover, she could vaguely feel that although the spiritual power fluctuations on this person were violent, there was no malice at all. Instead, it seemed as if... he was enduring some kind of painful torture.