Chapter 5: Heavenly Master Tang Zhou
Yu Mo slowly rose to his feet, instinctively shielding Yan Dan behind him. His eyes closed for a brief moment, then opened to reveal a deep crimson glow.
The young man tapped his foot lightly, landing gracefully in front of the two men. With a step forward, his longsword transformed into a streak of green light, slicing upwards. A dark blue demonic aura coiled tightly around the blade.
Yu Mo raised a hand; his clothes billowed in the swirling aura, a flicker of strangeness in his eyes. Few demons in the world could rival his strength, and mortals were certainly no match.
Suddenly, the sword’s light surged, piercing through layers of demonic aura and striking his chest. Blood boiled in Yu Mo’s veins, and his ears rang. He quickly grabbed Yan Dan and leapt off the boat. The river water churned violently, rising like a dragon, its maw wide and ready to devour anyone in its path.
The young man remained calm. Flicking a talisman from his sleeve, he chanted, “Break!”
The dragon shattered instantly, falling as countless droplets that pattered like sudden spring rain.
He moved to sheath his longsword, preparing to pursue, when someone clung to his feet. River water poured in from the deck’s hole, soaking his clothes.
Zhou Shiming, trembling and sobbing, clutched his legs. “Hero, you can’t leave me! Please save me! I don’t want to be eaten by the monster…”
Yu Mo frowned. “The monster is gone.”
Zhou Shiming shook violently. “No, no! They’ll come again to tear me apart! Hero, save me!”
Yu Mo scanned the river. The creature was long gone. He kicked Zhou Shiming gently. “Get out.”
Dripping wet, Yu Mo staggered ashore, suddenly coughing blood before collapsing on the ground. He simply lay there, eyes closed, trying to recover.
Yan Dan rushed to his side, alarmed at the blood staining his lips. She gently stroked his chest. “Yu Mo, how are you? Are you alright?”
Yu Mo turned slightly, coughing violently. Yan Dan patted his back, worry thick in her voice. “Are you seriously injured? Tell me, Yu Mo!”
He stopped coughing and slumped weakly against her. Yan Dan clutched him anxiously. “Hold on, Yu Mo… you mustn’t die!”
After a tense pause, Yu Mo’s face flushed faintly. “Too early to mourn, right?”
Yan Dan frowned. “My lord…”
Yu Mo smiled faintly. “Lian Qing.”
Yan Dan’s expression remained solemn. “Forgive me for being ill-prepared and unable to see you off, my lord. Please don’t blame me.”
Yu Mo’s gaze softened. “Lian Qing’s affection… I suppose I can only repay it in the next life.” He chuckled lightly.
Yan Dan offered a small, worried smile. “That Tianshi… he’s powerful. Even you might not match him, let alone me.”
Yu Mo hummed lazily. “It’s unsurprising. His soul must be extraordinarily pure to wield Taoism so flawlessly. In the Three Realms, the strongest is neither the immortal king nor the ancient demon—it is purity itself. My magic pales in comparison.”
Yan Dan hesitated. “Yu Mo… may I say something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Turn around… look behind you. They’re already chasing us. Soon, they’ll be here.”
Yu Mo cursed softly, standing. “It’s usually me pursuing, not being pursued. Today is different.”
Yan Dan’s gaze was steady. “Experience is valuable for your cultivation.”
Yu Mo met her eyes. “We go separate ways. One death is better than two if luck fails. You take that path; I’ll take the waterway.”
Yan Dan hesitated, then nodded. “Alright.” The water route was risky, but safer than the other.
Yu Mo pushed her gently. “Hurry.”
She turned and hurried. Glancing back at the river bend, she saw Yu Mo fading into the distance. Night deepened, and she pressed on through the mountains, cold and exhausted, yet daring not to stop.
Through the trees, a distant imperial star gleamed, brighter than the rest—a symbol of the dynasty’s revival, a beacon in the dark.
Yan Dan recalled what she had learned long ago about Zen. Back then, she had scoffed at immortality, claiming she never wished for it. Time had shifted her perspective.
As dawn approached, she spotted a small village. Behind it, tea plantations climbed the mountain. She sank onto a tree stump, taking a moment’s respite.
Footsteps approached, and she jumped—he had followed her. The young Taoist priest wore loose sleeves and a flowing belt, with a clear, sharp aura. Handsome, youthful, barely in his twenties. Yan Dan sighed—his years of experience did not match his mortal age.
The priest slowed, frowning thoughtfully. “Excuse me, young lady, are you from here?”
Yan Dan smiled faintly. “Look… the tea trees seem healthier this year than before.”
The man looked puzzled. “I mean no harm. I only wished to know where I could stay for the night.”
“See the monkey-like rocks on that hill?”
The priest walked on, and Yan Dan contemplated whether to follow or retreat. Following him was dangerous, but offered a chance at survival. Resolute, she pressed forward.
He suddenly called back. “Young lady, have you seen a woman about your height and age pass by?”
Yan Dan did not look, her voice distant. “I want to go home. My mother waits. Do you want to come too?”
A sigh followed. “What a fool…”
She scowled internally but stayed silent; his Taoist skill was far beyond her own.
A whispered spell whistled through the air. Darkness enveloped her, leaving only a faint light overhead. She touched the walls—cold, smooth like jade. A circular arc suggested a consecrated jade gourd.
Frustrated, she muttered, “Where did I slip? You believed me just now.”
“Your act was convincing… almost fooled me. But the quality of your clothes and hands betrayed you. Your face too, naturally smooth from little hardship.”
Yan Dan frowned. “May I ask your name, Master?”
A pause. “Tang Zhou.”
She sank against the gourd, exhausted. “Did you meet my companion?”
“Yes.”
“Was he killed, or did he escape?”
“I’ve answered once. No further questions.”
Yan Dan tapped the gourd. “You…!” She laughed softly. “Thank goodness he escaped.”
Tang Zhou’s reply was measured, almost teasing. “Clever.”
She closed her eyes, trying to rest. Darkness eased sleep’s arrival.
Yet even in sleep, anxiety lingered—Tang Zhou’s silence revealed nothing. Where was Yu Mo? Safe, hopefully.
She hugged her knees, exhausted, recalling weaknesses of others: Zi Lin feared exposure, Dan Shu feared ghosts, Yu Mo’s loyalty defined him. But Tang Zhou? His flaw remained a mystery.
Exhaustion claimed her again, and sleep pulled her under.
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