Meanwhile, alongside his initiates, trusted donors and willing elders, Xinzi arranged over 16,000 disciples—including 6,000 inners—in a formation. Spiritual Sense communication played a critical role in this assembly. At the same time, the top four vassal leaders: Shui Jiankang of the royal clan, Bai Renyi of the Nameless Sword mountain, Abbot Wanshan of the Thousand Roads mountain, and Zi Huamei of the Albizia Heart court, led their subordinates to delay the Sacrificial Knives—buying Xinzi time to complete the setup.
The Yin Platform’s formation broke down, revealing two sizzling figures that stood shoulder to shoulder. Each held a silver fishing net stuffed full with bleeding heads—Sacrificial Knives’ heads. Not to be underestimated, these finishing nets were a pair of artifacts crafted by Zi Yao and Guang Fanghu in their peak Pulse Condensation days. Alone, they were no different from black-grade treasures. But once used in tandem, they rivaled mid-tier profound grade treasures and could effortlessly tear through unprepared Pulse Condensation experts. Zi Yao gave hers to Chun Xu, and Guang Fanghu’s naturally fell into Dong Ling’s hands.
Before, due to her drastically lower Spiritual Drops count, Dong Ling struggled to coordinate with Chun Xu. But now that her cultivation had caught up to her frenemy’s, the two worked in sync. And with Tusha helping them in the shadows, the Dong-Chun duo combined these nets with their domains to capture and slaughter the assassins.
Stunned by the macabre yet captivating picture, men gazed absentmindedly at the pair, for a second forgetting about the Sacrificial Knives running amok in their ranks. Later, the “Fairies Holding the Weeping Nets” would become a classic of Dongli folk culture, inspiring tales, paintings and poems that’d immortalize the Dong-Chun duo in the hearts of countless mortal citizens.
Welcomed by a concentration of myriad fellow daoists standing in an orderly fashion, the Dong-Chun duo swept the ranks with their Spiritual Senses, and soon locked on Xinzi.
“A’Xin!” Always one to throw decorum to the trash, Dong Ling hoisted up the blood-soaked net and leaped straight at Xinzi. Dozens stood in her way, but the relentless snakegirl leaped past some, used others as trampolines, and reached our monk in the blink of an eye.
Well…not quite. By the time Dong Ling neared Xinzi, the three initiates had unsheathed their pewter staves. Their cultivation bases rolled out, forewarning murderous intent. As far as A’Zhi and A’Zhu were concerned, even Guang Fanghu’s daughter couldn’t charge at their Abbot uninvited. Yan Le’s thoughts were more complex. Not only did she see in this an opportunity to gain loyalty points with her abbot, but it also enabled her to take the young mistress down a peg—and Heaven knows she needed that.
Alas, the three initiates had barely raised their staves that Dong Ling threw her net at them. A drizzle of blood preceded the mortifying net, which instantly snatched the trio’s attention. Their eyes widened at the trapped, crammed remains, and though they had nothing to fear from Dong Ling’s move, they sidestepped involuntarily. This moment of distraction was more than enough for the snakegirl to rush past them and land by Xinzi’s side. Eager to snatch her mate’s attention, Dong Ling grabbed Xinzi’s arm and nuzzled at his shoulder.
“Lousy guards. Were I the powerless general of a mortal army, this is how I’d lose my life.” Xinzi shook his head, yet didn’t resist Dong Ling’s pull. A’Zhi and A’Zhu blushed in shame. Yan Le stomped her foot in annoyance, cursing herself for letting the young mistress play her so. Clearly, Yan Le concealed some animosity towards Dong Ling—a matter for another time.
This quick exchange enabled our monk to see through his initiates’ shortcomings. Thankfully, he’d already mapped plans for their demonic development and, following this battle, would ensure that their cultivation base and battle power rose to worthy heights.
“Humph, it’s not like dying at my hands isn’t an honor.” Dong Ling’s retort came with the usual sass, but still she let her silky hair rustle against Xinzi.
“Bah, don’t say you. Even if it were the highest goddess of the Celestial Court, I’d still ask her to give me back my head. Men, behold and beware. Women and your elders will have you believe that dying for sizzling curves will add value to your corpse. But death is death, and believe me when I say that it’s high on the list of things you never want to taste.” Ever the clear-headed man, Xinzi scoffed at the notion, yet still passed his hands across Dong Ling’s forehead—tidying loose strands.
“Bastard! I’ve just come out of a life-and-death struggle, but not only do you not sweet-talk me, you even bring me down in front of so many! And why are there so many in the first place? Wrong subject. I’m done with you!”
“Okay.”
“You!”
“Alright, alright. Your future is limitless, and your beauty barely lives up to it. How blessed I am to have you by my side.”
“Well said! A man aware of his good fortunes. You’re teachabl—wait, barely? Why barely?”
“Barely living up to ‘limitless’ is pretty good. How would you rather have me phrase it?” Xinzi’s words choked any counter Dong Ling could come up with. Limitless beauty made no sense, so she couldn’t have him praise her that way. But the barely put an insufferable dent in the compliment, akin to a fly landing on top of a world-renowned chef’s special. No matter how delightful the meal looked, she couldn’t stomach it. Annoyed but vanquished, Dong Ling stomped her foot in annoyance and spun sideways—pouting to no end.
It was at that time that she noticed Xia Hu’s presence, and her face contorted into a grimace. “Who are you? Why are you standing so close to my man? Humph, your looks are passable. But don’t think you can hoodwink my monk with your doe eyes, plump lips and fat rump. He’s spoken for.” Flooded by this barrage of abusive words, Xia Hu, who initially struggled between reaching out to Dong Ling and hiding in a ten-meters deep hole, lurched back—restraining a blood spurt.
Alas, as the fem swordsman reeled, Dong Ling noticed the similarities in the faces and recalled the attire Xia Hu had initially arrived with. “Eh…wait, you look familiar. Yes! No way. By all the gods, yes! It’s you! Aiya, big brother Xia, what happened to you? Don’t tell me that the Blood Yang Gorilla plowed the masculinity out of you! Ouch, I guess now I must call you big sister Xia.” Alarmed, Dong Ling grabbed Xia Hu by the shoulders and said in an innocent, straightforward tone.
Unable to endure the blow, Xia Hu lost balance and spurted blood. Nearby, Chun Xu observed all this from a sober and conflicted stance—trapped between shame and regrets. Had she not pushed Xia Hu to draw his sword at Xinzi, he wouldn’t have ended up in such an…unfortunate state. In a land of rigid moral standards, neither man nor woman, Xia Hu was destined to endure no end of jeers and ridicule. It would be a miracle if his psyche survived the future ordeals. And all that for what? Just to watch his beloved blow Xinzi’s meat and birth his babies.
A pity, a shame, a loss!