Qingzhou. Yushan Prefecture.

Moonlight like water.

On the quiet street, a large man in a short jacket let out a tipsy, satisfied belch.

He shook his head, and suddenly felt a chill along his spine.

He looked up in a daze.

Ten-odd zhang overhead, a long sword had appeared at some point — hanging motionless, watching him with the blank attention of a hawk.

The next moment, sword-light brighter than the moonlight poured down.

Thp—

The man’s body was taken apart in an instant. The pieces hit the ground — enormous furry limbs, a monstrous animal head staring upward with wide, bewildered eyes.

Blood spread steadily outward, staining the stone tiles dark red.

The sword turned, swept toward Qingzhou city, cleared the walls, entered the Division compound, and came to rest on a stone table in a quiet courtyard. The blade was clean.

Jiang Yuanhua opened his eyes, a faint tiredness in them.

The divine spirit could leave the body and drift anywhere — but surveying city after city was exhausting work.

Bai Ziming held out a bowl of prepared spirit-restoring tea. “Teacher, please.”

“At least you still have some sense of filial duty. The others—”

Jiang Yuanhua took the cup, moistened his throat with an unhurried sip.

Bai Ziming cleared his throat. “Martial Elder Sister and the others are back.”

“Out of the others, Qiulan at least has some consideration.” He set the cup down and looked toward the courtyard entrance.

Barely more than a month. And they were already back.

Even if there was something wrong with the prince, he almost certainly wouldn’t have shown it in front of his mother.

Qiulan’s manner was cool — she rarely showed irritation toward anyone. Two people like that spending time together would naturally be courteous, nothing would go wrong. In the Princess’s eyes, it probably looked like two young people taking things gradually, the situation improving.

Once she felt settled, she wouldn’t be stingy about asking someone from Xuanguang Cave to send a Mixed Origin Grandmaster to Qingzhou.

After that — once the Howling Moon was dealt with — they wouldn’t need to think about this tiresome woman anymore.

“Go ask your Martial Elder Sister to come. I have something to ask her.”

With that thought, he gave a small nod.

Bai Ziming was about to go when a dark-robed figure walked in of its own accord.

“How did it go?” Jiang Yuanhua’s expression warmed.

Jiang Qiulan looked at her teacher steadily. “I offended the Princess of Ji. She asked me to pass you a message.”

At those words, the warmth in Jiang Yuanhua’s expression froze slightly — but he kept his patience. “What message?”

“She said — when the Howling Moon Demon King strikes your divine spirit from you, you must remember, without fail, that it is entirely my doing.”

Jiang Qiulan finished saying it and turned to leave.

Hearing that delivered in such a level tone, Bai Ziming instinctively averted his eyes and stepped quietly to the side.

His Martial Elder Sister’s particular talent — even those words, from her mouth, somehow landed without any dissonance at all.

Jiang Yuanhua let the expression go, and watched his disciple’s back as she moved away, until the figure was gone into the dark.

He looked back at the sword on the table.

Both eyes like still water.

“Teacher — you’re not thinking of doing something to Martial Elder Sister?” Bai Ziming felt an unexpected tension.

His teacher gave him a look that clearly assessed him as a fool.

Jiang Yuanhua rubbed his brow. He made no move to call Jiang Qiulan back. That single message told him everything — the avenue of seeking aid through the Princess was completely closed.

What had actually happened along the way no longer mattered. The disciple had only come to inform him. That was all.

Chen Qiankun’s warning echoed, unbidden.

Abandoned by everyone—

He let his hand drop with a quiet feeling, and after a long silence:

“Your Eldest Martial Brother You Longtao once explained things to Qiulan on my behalf. I only passed that golden spider monkey a technique, gave it a blade, and sent it out to travel and cultivate. I had no intention of harming it.”

“So Martial Elder Sister misunderstood?” Bai Ziming said quietly.

“No misunderstanding.” Jiang Yuanhua looked toward the orderly row of empty wine crocks under the distant tree. His voice was flat. “I could see from the first moment what it was going to do. I deliberately wanted it to go to its death. And I’ve never regretted it.”

Bai Ziming said nothing further.

If there was no regret, there was nothing to discuss.

“When I was still a Deputy Commander in Tanzhou, I once saw what it looked like when a provincial city fell. I don’t want to see it a second time.”

“For that — nothing else matters to me.”

He reached out, took the sword, exhaled a slow breath. The cold light returned to his eyes.

The faint regret that had moved through him a moment earlier — gone in the same instant.

Does he really not care— Bai Ziming let out a very quiet eye-roll.

What had visibly unsettled his teacher wasn’t failing to obtain the aid he’d sought. It was the way Martial Elder Sister had delivered those words — that unhurried, neutral tone, as if it were nothing.

He’d needed to say all of this out loud to someone, just to ease the weight of it.

And Martial Elder Sister — raised entirely by his teacher’s hand, performing beyond anything anyone could have expected — still couldn’t earn his trust.

You couldn’t expect the feeling of a normal bond between teacher and disciple from this kind of relationship.

“Has Aqian headed back?” Jiang Yuanhua had found stillness again.

“Yes. The Howling Moon Demon King’s location has been sent back.” Bai Ziming took out a folded document and opened it.

His teacher glanced at it once. Then closed his eyes again, the whole body going still as carved stone.

The sword swept out into the night sky once more.

A years-long standoff — it had become the ordinary rhythm between this Martial Immortal and the demon king.

This one would probably mean another few months of stillness.

In a side courtyard of the Division compound.

Shen Yi sat on the edge of the bed, looking inward, a slight puzzlement on his face.

In the qi sea — at some point, a scattering of faint white radiance had appeared. And the quantity wasn’t small.

The Heaven-Devouring inner core was absorbing it steadily — the jade pill clouding over with white mist as it took it in.

What was this?

A light knock at the door.

He opened his eyes. “Come in.”

Jiang Qiulan pushed the door open. She didn’t mention the General — she knew the young man would have no interest, and no particular feeling about the General’s intentions either way.

“I’m heading back to Yushan Prefecture.”

She sat at the table. She’d been used to doing things alone for a long time. But today she found herself wanting to say goodbye.

“If you have any questions—”

“I want to know what kind of qi would flow toward me on its own.”

Shen Yi had confirmed this wasn’t the effect of any demonic technique. So he didn’t hide it, and asked directly.

Jiang Qiulan blinked. “Faith and prayer… but you’re only an acting General. That shouldn’t be happening.”

She thought for a moment. “Did you let someone build a temple for you in Qingzhou?”

Ever since the court established the Division, demons building temples had essentially stopped. Even if it happened, it was exceptional, and limited to a very small area.

“…”

Shen Yi shook his head. He had no time for anything like that. The thought of himself cast as a statue in a temple was embarrassing enough to consider.

(End of Chapter)