106: Chapter 16 Tragedy

Yingxian Pavilion.

The deep night was like ink soaking into the world. All sounds were hushed, save for the occasional chirping of insects in the distance, which only served to make the silence of the night more unsettling.

Inside Yingxian Pavilion, candle flames flickered, casting erratic shadows upon the walls as if countless eyes were peering from the darkness.

Tu Shan Xiaoxiao curled up beside Chen Zilong, her slender arms tightly encircling his waist.

Like a young beast seeking protection, she nestled deep within his warm embrace, already fast asleep.

Her long golden hair, which had once been as radiant as sunlight, had at some point turned entirely into a snow-like silver-white, cascading down softly.

A few strands of hair brushed against her exquisite, flawless profile, adding a touch of fragile beauty.

Even in sleep, her long, curled eyelashes would occasionally tremble slightly.

Like the wings of a startled butterfly, her delicate brows furrowed slightly, seemingly troubled by some uneasy dream.

Chen Zilong did not push her away, allowing her to nestle against him like this.

He looked down at the person in his arms with a complex gaze, occasionally raising a hand to gently stroke her exceptionally striking snow-colored hair; the sensation from his fingertips was cool and smooth.

He sighed inwardly. To an uninformed observer, such intimacy might look like the warm, tender affection between lovers.

But to him, his state of mind was more like comforting a frightened cat that had temporarily retracted its claws.

He remembered clearly that Tu Shan Xiaoxiao's white hair had turned from gold to white overnight, just before the day she resolutely identified Ye Wushuang.

Especially after he and Ye Xishui became Dao companions, her behavior had become increasingly strange and unpredictable.

According to the book's description, Tu Shan Xiaoxiao should have been a woman with a cheerful personality and a bright smile.

However, that cheerfulness and passion seemed to bloom only for the child of destiny, Ye Wushuang.

When facing other men, she had always been cold and distant, even carrying an imperceptible sense of loathing.

But now...

Looking at her sleeping peacefully in his arms, Chen Zilong felt a deep sense of strangeness and confusion.

The Tu Shan Xiaoxiao before his eyes was already a completely different person from the woman in his memories.

In the silence, the door was pushed open noiselessly, and a cold figure carrying the slight chill of the night quietly walked in.

It was Ye Xishui returning.

She made no sound. The moment her gaze met Chen Zilong's, she switched to using the technique of transmitting voice via divine sense to communicate, avoiding disturbing the sleeping person.

“Xishui, are you alright?”

Chen Zilong's voice rang directly in her sea of consciousness, carrying an imperceptible trace of concern.

“I am fine,” Ye Xishui's response was concise and clear.

Her face appeared somewhat pale under the dancing candlelight.

But her gaze remained as calm as water, though deep within that tranquility, there seemed to hide a sliver of frustration at not having fully succeeded.

“By the way, did you catch that charred monster?” Chen Zilong continued to ask via transmission.

Ye Xishui shook her head almost imperceptibly, her lips pursed slightly, conveying a negative message.

“Its speed was extremely fast; I lost its trail after going out.”

Hearing this, Chen Zilong raised a hand to gently rub his chin, falling into deep thought.

That fellow, whose entire body was like charcoal scorched by a fierce fire and emitted an ominous aura—what exactly was it?

Was it a demon that had gained sentience through cultivation in the mountains?

But it didn't quite feel like it. That thing carried an older, purer malice that was definitely not something an ordinary spirit could possess.

His thoughts were tangled, and he couldn't find a lead.

He simply set it aside for the moment, gently lifting the sleeping Tu Shan Xiaoxiao in his arms and placing her on the bed in the inner room, carefully tucking her in.

In her sleep, Tu Shan Xiaoxiao unconsciously nuzzled the soft pillow and let out a faint, satisfied sigh; her stunning face looked exceptionally serene and harmless in her dreams.

After settling her, Chen Zilong walked to a corner of the room, brushed his robes, and sat cross-legged, preparing to close his eyes and regulate his breathing.

Ye Xishui walked slowly to his side, sat down silently, and then gently leaned her head against his broad shoulder.

Chen Zilong did not move, only slightly adjusting his posture to let her lean more comfortably.

The two of them leaned against each other like that, keeping watch together through the long night in silence and darkness, allowing the sparse starlight outside to filter through the window lattice and cast a faint glow upon them.

The next morning, before the sky was fully bright, a layer of grey mist shrouded the village, and the air was filled with a damp, cold scent.

“Ah—!”

A shrill, terrifying scream filled with horror suddenly shattered the silence of the corridor in Yingxian Pavilion.

It also instantly dispersed the sleepiness of everyone who was still sleeping or in a light slumber.

Inside the room, Chen Zilong and Ye Xishui both snapped their eyes open almost simultaneously.

A sharp light flashed in their eyes, without a hint of the confusion that usually follows waking up.

The two exchanged a glance and, with a movement of their bodies, they had already flickered out of the room like ghosts.

Tu Shan Xiaoxiao was also startled awake by that scream. She sat up in a daze, rubbing her bleary eyes.

Seeing that Chen Zilong was no longer in the room, a flash of panic crossed her face. She hurriedly threw off the covers, got out of bed, and ran out after him.

By the time Chen Zilong and the others arrived at the scene of the incident, the doorway of that room was already crowded with disciples from various sects, making it impassable.

Noisy discussions and gasps of uncertainty and alarm were interwoven, creating an oppressive and tense atmosphere.

Chen Zilong frowned slightly and, using his movement techniques, skillfully squeezed into the center of the crowd.

The scene before him, despite his extensive experience, caused his heart to turn cold.

A male disciple wearing the robes of the Qingyun Sect lay flat on the bed. The front of his robes was torn, revealing a hollow hole in his chest.

His heart had actually been gouged out alive!

The edges of the wound appeared unnaturally distorted, and the sheets beneath him were soaked with a large amount of dark red blood, emitting a heavy stench of gore.

However, what was most hair-raising and chilling was the expression frozen on the deceased's face.

It was not pain or horror, but a bizarrely peaceful, even satisfied smile.

Against the backdrop of this bloody scene, this smile appeared incredibly sinister and terrifying.

By the deceased's bedside, several disciples also from the Qingyun Sect were pale-faced, overwhelmed by grief and indignation.

Some beat their chests, while others wept uncontrollably; emotions of mourning and anger spread through the air.

“It’s you! It must be you demonic scoundrels who killed Junior Brother Liu!” A Qingyun Sect disciple suddenly looked up.

His eyes were bloodshot as he pointed at the disciples of the demonic sects standing on the other side, his voice trembling with agitation.

“That’s right! Gouging out a heart—such a cruel and brutal method could only be done by you heartless people of the demonic path!”

“Demonic scoundrels are ruthless and cruel; everyone has the right to punish them!”

...

In an instant, the disciples of Jinguang Temple, Haoran Academy, and Qingyun Sect were filled with righteous indignation. They all pointed their fingers at the demonic disciples, rebuking them sharply, and the sounds of cursing were endless.

The accused demonic disciples were first stunned, and then expressions of anger and grievance appeared on their faces.

They looked at each other, their eyes filled with suspicion and inquiry, as if communicating through their gazes:

Who was it?

Could it really be someone among us who couldn't hold back and made a move?

...