Chapter 89: Looting? That’s a Kind of Wisdom.

“—MEH?!”

The White-Robed Kensei’s speed was simply too fast for the Nine-Colored Deer’s mundane eyes to track. By the time Wangxue realized the immortal was flying straight towards her, she yelped and hit the brakes with all her might, digging her hooves into the air itself.

Wangxue stopped dead, but the same could not be said for He Yimo, who was still riding her back.

“—?!”

He Yimo had been looking over his shoulder a moment ago, checking on Gu Wanglan’s progress. The next second, he turned back around just as Wangxue slammed on the brakes. The violent inertia from the sudden stop sent him flying off her back like a projectile. Traveling at such speed, his vision blurred into a rush of pure white. Then, with a soft thump, he plunged face-first into two prominent, snow-white mounds.

It felt like diving into a sea of clouds – dense yet pillowy soft, with a surprising hint of resilience underneath. Besides, the perfect, enveloping pressure against the sides of his face, a delicate, ethereal fragrance, sweet with a subtle hint of milky warmth, filled his nostrils. The sudden impact had completely knocked the air out of his lungs. So, after a few seconds of stunned recovery, He Yimo reflexively took a deep, satisfying breath, drawing that exquisite scent deep into his lungs before slowly exhaling, utterly submerged in the comforting, yielding softness.

“…?”

Mid-air, the White-Robed Kensei instinctively spread her arms to catch the young man soaring towards her, fearing he wouldn’t be able to fly and would fall. Just as she felt a wave of relief that she hadn’t been too late, she suddenly felt a powerful, prolonged gust of air blast directly into her chest. The intensely sensitive sensation, a peculiar mix of breath and something else, sent a jolt of electrifying warmth straight to her heart. The worry on her expression instantly melted, replaced by a deep, embarrassed blush painting her exquisite, usually impassive face.

“You…” Mo Yuyan looked down, her eyes widening slightly. The young man’s face was buried deep in the soft expanse before her. All she could see of his head was a tuft of black hair, topped by a single, tiny ahoge that was somehow… swaying happily? Her delicate lips parted, gasping softly, her chest rising and falling with the motion. But realizing the critical situation, she suppressed her embarrassment. Her jade-like hands gently gripped He Yimo’s arms just below the shoulders. Resisting the awkward, friction-filled contact between the peaks of her chest as she tried to dislodge him, she slowly, carefully, pulled his head free.

“Phew… Phew…” He Yimo’s mind felt pleasantly fuzzy. His face was flushed, perhaps from lack of oxygen caused by being submerged in the… cloud sea, or maybe just from the lingering effects of that epic, full-lung inhalation.

BOOM! RUMBLE!!!

Another earth-shaking roar echoed from below. The renewed surge of murderous intent from behind brought He Yimo crashing back to reality. His eyes snapped open. He finally focused on the stunning immortal standing before him, who was biting her delicate lip, her face flushed with embarrassment and thinly veiled fury.

“Hey— uh, I mean, Senior Sister!” He Yimo’s mind almost auto-completed with something less… appropriate. Thankfully, his survival instincts kicked in at the last second, allowing him to correctly identify her.

A wave of realization hit He Yimo. He cautiously licked his lips, recalling the delightful, lingering taste of warm milk (or perhaps just the scent) from his “dream.” Yes. That definitely hadn’t been a dream brought on by imminent death. That was real. That had actually happened. He’d embedded himself face-first in the White-Robed Kensei’s chest.

Gulp… A shiver ran down his spine. Feeling a chill, He Yimo swallowed nervously, trying to appear like a perfectly upstanding young gentleman. He needed to come up with a plausible explanation, fast. But no matter how hard he tried to project an image of dignified composure, his body, the damn traitor, refused to cooperate. His lower half had responded instantly, a distinct… reaction… making things abundantly clear. And the lingering blush on his face deepened, burning hotter as he held eye contact with the furious immortal in front of him.

“Senior Sister…” he began, forcing a wide, hopefully not-too-guilty smile. “You… You finally came to save me!” He tried his best to sound genuinely grateful and innocent.

But from Mo Yuyan’s perspective, the boy’s face was flushed like a freshly stoked furnace. And his rapid physiological response… it practically screamed his true intentions, putting his depraved thoughts on full display! In a way, Mo Yuyan found astounding. Not only could he hatch such outrageously abstract infiltration schemes, but he could also bounce back from mortal danger with… this?! Should she praise the youth’s vigorous essence for its surprising sensitivity? Or perhaps commend his ‘little brother’ for reaching a state where desire surpassed even the instinct for survival, completely unfazed by near-death experiences, maintaining a steady, reliable performance through thick and thin?

For a fleeting second, Mo Yuyan wondered if the problem lay with her. Was she secretly a succubus? Why else would He Yimo react so strongly to even the slightest stimulus? She’d been Wuji Sect’s Sword Head Senior Sister for years, yet she’d never encountered a male disciple with such… exaggerated vitality. The other disciples were usually terrified just making eye contact with her, but He Yimo was the opposite! The more furiously she glared at him, the more this little pervert seemed to get excited!

“He Yimo…” Mo Yuyan finally managed, her voice strained with suppressed emotion. “Everything you did today… We’ll settle things properly… tonight… back at Soot-Stained Peak!” She tore her gaze away from his blushing face, spotting the figure wreathed in bloody smoke erupting from the ground below.

At the same time, she subtly motioned towards the Nine-Colored Deer hovering nearby. Wangxue, understanding instantly, flew over to retrieve her perpetually battered, weakling master.

“That is… Gu Wanglan?” Mo Yuyan murmured, her eyes widening slightly in surprise as she took in the sight of the humanoid monster charging towards them, radiating madness and killing intent. She calmly raised her hand, her sword responding instantly, and brought her fingers together before her chest. A crisp sword chime echoed behind her as the Frost-Humming Sword flashed forward, slicing straight into the side of the humanoid monster’s abdomen.

But Gu Wanglan was utterly consumed by fury, feeling no pain whatsoever. Even with Yinshuang embedded in his side, the monster still swung its massive, black-flaming molten sword at the White-Robed Kensei in the air.

“It seems he has fully devolved into the ranks of demons, deserving of eradication,” Mo Yuyan stated calmly, though a flicker of surprise remained in her cold eyes. Now that she confirmed he had lost all semblance of humanity and reason, she no longer needed to hold back, thinking of him as a potential prisoner. Her eyes, once soft with worry, now reflected a chilling, bone-deep sword intent. Her form became a blur of motion, a mere shift of her body effortlessly evading the monster’s devastating slash.

“SWORD, COME—!”

With that elegant command, Mo Yuyan once again brought her fingers together before her chest. Below, He Yimo, hearing that familiar, dreaded phrase, immediately flinched back, his face breaking out in a cold sweat. He couldn’t help reflexively glancing around, terrified that the Frost-Humming Sword was about to come aiming for him.

In his past life, playing the “evil path” in the game, He Yimo had been killed by Mo Yuyan’s sword countless times when she used this technique… The seemingly simple ‘Sword, Come’ command, while meant to recall the sword, was essentially an execution move. The angle Yinshuang took as it returned to Mo Yuyan was always ridiculously unpredictable and deadly. He Yimo remembered being tortured by Mo Yuyan in the game, hearing her soft “Sword, Come,” frantically spinning his mouse to look around, searching for Yinshuang for what felt like ages… only for it to erupt from the ground beneath his butt, instantly wiping his HP and forcing a reload.

Years later… hearing that same ‘Sword, Come’ command again, He Yimo’s reflexes still sent him scrambling, searching everywhere for Yinshuang’s trajectory, especially keeping a wary eye below the belt.

And as the air fell silent, the battle between the Kensei and the humanoid monster seemed to slow to a crawl—

SCHLICK!

The monster grunted, and blood splattered violently from its abdomen, erupting in a crimson mist before the White-Robed Kensei.

“Wait, where did THAT come from?!” He Yimo’s eyes widened in confusion. Then, he saw it. Yinshuang wasn’t returning to Mo Yuyan in a circle or arc. It was piercing straight through the humanoid monster’s body from the opposite side, slicing its way through the blood mist, its blade utterly clean, before smoothly coming to rest in the White-Robed Kensei’s awaiting arms. He Yimo finally grasped the true terror of Yinshuang’s technique.

“Your damn sword… can return from inside someone?!” He Yimo felt his worldview shatter. But, thinking about it… if it was Mo Yuyan, yeah, that made twisted sense. ‘Sword, Come’ – how does a sword come? By coming back! Who said a sword embedded in an enemy’s body needed to be pulled out first, or fly around in a circle before returning? The shortest distance between two points is undeniably a straight line! Why shouldn’t Yinshuang just stab through the enemy to get back to its master’s arms?

“Alright, alright, fine… Touché…” He Yimo shrugged, genuinely impressed.

At the same time, he gently poked the little deer under him, who was equally mesmerized by the Kensei’s sword skill —

“Stop staring, Roe Deer. With our measly combat power, we should find a place to hide!”

“Wangxue is NOT a little weakling like Master! Wangxue just rammed the bad guy and sent him flying! Hmph!” The little deer huffed, tossing her head, her nose practically in the air.

He Yimo sighed, exasperated. She had him there. He couldn’t really argue. “Yeah, I know. And if this Innate Sword Saint Physique thing actually worked the way I thought it would, if it gave me Nascent Soul cultivation like you get in those novels, I’d be able to toy with that big, clumsy oaf like a monkey!”

“But Master doesn’t even have Core Formation cultivation yet…” Wangxue mumbled dismissively.

He Yimo’s earlier smug grin stiffened again. He fell silent for a moment, then abruptly slapped Wangxue’s butt with a loud smack!

“Stop flying away! I’m going back to show you what a REAL man does!” He Yimo snapped, seeing Wangxue flying further and further away, about to escape the Secret Realm entirely.

Wangxue, having never been spanked before, flinched violently. She turned her little head back to look at He Yimo, her eyes wide, hurt, and utterly heartbroken. He Yimo stared back, his expression unreadable, a strange glint in his eye.

“You said you weren’t afraid of Gu Wanglan? Let’s go! Come back with me, face our fears, and be ourselves!”

“I… I…” Wangxue stammered, speechless from the scolding but still trembling with fear at the memory of the humanoid monster’s roar.

“Besides, I told you to find a place to hide, not just run away like this! Senior Sister Mo is fighting alone! How can we just abandon her and be deserters?!”

“But… but…” Wangxue was thoroughly cowed, but the recent terror was still too fresh. He Yimo gently patted her butt again, signaling her to turn around and fly back towards the Mountain God Shrine.

“So, you ARE a scaredy-cat, Wangxue. No more making fun of Master, got it?”

“Oh…” Seeing He Yimo was serious, Wangxue reluctantly obeyed, turning around and flying back towards the shrine. But all the way there, a look of fear remained on her face. After all, this was a life-or-death battle between Nascent Soul cultivators! Wangxue liked to tease He Yimo, but it was just talk. If He Yimo actually brought her back to the battlefield, she’d be quiet, alright.

“Master, you’re only at Foundation Establishment. That bad guy… after he went mad… he’s stronger than just Nascent Soul!” she whimpered. “And look at Wangxue! Besides helping Master with support, I’m practically useless in a fight! If Master gets hurt, what will Wangxue do all alone?!”

“So… maybe we shouldn’t go back and just bother Senior Sister Mo when she’s fighting?” Wangxue pleaded, trying to appeal to He Yimo’s better nature.

Seeing the little one truly apologizing, He Yimo stopped teasing her. He smiled faintly. “Of course I know the truth,” he said gently. “`He Yimo, even if he stands still and lets us attack him, it would take us a year to scratch him.`”

“But, Wangxue, do you know?”

“There’s a shortcut in this world… a way to get huge rewards… without putting in any effort at all!”

He Yimo raised his index finger, his eyes narrowing in a calculating, predatory gaze towards the distant sounds of battle. That familiar, unsettling smirk returned to his lips. Wangxue tilted her head, blinking, indicating she didn’t understand.

“Alright, this distance is close enough. Wangxue, come back now.” He Yimo said, gently stroking Wangxue’s butt one last time as they arrived within a few li of the shrine, indicating she should descend. Wangxue, now used to the gesture, obediently landed and dissolved into a streak of golden light, returning to the Saint Mark on He Yimo’s hand.

Walking along the quiet forest path in the dead of night, He Yimo’s pace was leisurely, and his voice was calm, almost cheerful. “The shortcut I just mentioned, Wangxue—it’s called ‘Jian Lou’ !”

`[Jian Lou?]` In the sea of consciousness, the little deer tilted her head and blinked.

Unseen, He Yimo had climbed onto the branch of an ancient tree just outside the Mountain God Shrine. From there, he sat, silently observing the thrilling, perilous combat between the White-Robed Kensei and the humanoid monster within the shrine. His eyes were calm, detached. Even when the Kensei stumbled and was seriously wounded by a brutal swipe, there was no worry or concern for his Senior Sister in his gaze. But when the monstrous figure was knocked back or stumbled, a flicker of anxiety would appear in his cold eyes, worried that his opportunity might slip away.

“Yes, Jian Lou.”

“It’s a mandatory course… for a qualified protagonist in the cultivation world!” He Yimo smirked faintly. With the Destiny Title of Sword Saint now bound to him, he no longer saw himself as a mere villainous cannon fodder. He was the protagonist now. And he was learning his lesson.

He Yimo watched intently as the White-Robed Kensei leaped forward, plunging her sword deep into the humanoid monster’s skull. But even with Yinshuang embedded in its head, the monstrous body merely shuddered, its legs remaining firm.

“Not good!”

“AHHHH—!!!” The monster let out a terrifying, sky-shattering roar. It opened its massive maw, spewing molten lava. At the same time, it clutched its head with both hands, clearly building up to a devastating attack. Before the Kensei could pull her sword free, the humanoid monster roared, unleashing an incredibly powerful blast of scorching black flames in all directions from its body.

“Cough… mhm…” The White-Robed Kensei leaped back, dodging and retreating, but even so, the earth-shattering explosion and the intense heatwave that washed over her scraped away some of the usual aloof pride from face, replacing it with a grimace of pain and frustration. Her delicate lips, now gritting her teeth, couldn’t suppress a muffled groan.

Meanwhile, perched high on his branch on the other side, He Yimo also raised a hand to shield his face, mimicking the Kensei’s motion to ward off the searing black flames filling the air. After a long moment, the monstrous roar subsided. He Yimo finally opened his eyes and returned his gaze to the battlefield, assessing the situation.

He saw the humanoid monster slowly climb onto the shrine’s altar. Then, it plunged its massive molten sword deep into the center of the altar, the terrifying surge of life force instantly reactivating the entire structure.

Rustle, rustle, rustle…

Countless blood-red vines awakened, their eerie, slithering sounds filling the air from the altar once more. “What… What is it doing?” The White-Robed Kensei stood watching from just outside the shrine entrance. She felt a palpable sense of dread filling the air, a dangerous aura that made her exquisite, battle-stained face turn grim. Dangerous as it was, she was already standing quite far back. If she retreated further, and the monster suddenly tried to escape, she wouldn’t be able to pursue immediately! Right now, Mo Yuyan’s main concern was understanding this bizarre technique. If she attacked rashly, she might trigger some trap, getting caught by the altar’s vines and walking straight into a snare! But standing by and doing nothing, just watching it unleash its ultimate attack, felt like agonizing torture!

`These Waning Moon Cultists are already troublesome enough,` she thought grimly. `I didn’t expect… a Nascent Soul stage righteous sword cultivator would truly fall… He Yimo said cultists were hiding in the Wuji Sect back mountain Secret Realm… He was right.` Paralyzed by uncertainty, the White-Robed Kensei’s eyes were filled with vigilance, but also hesitation and unease.

However, in stark contrast to Mo Yuyan’s increasingly tense expression, on his ancient tree branch not far away, He Yimo watched the humanoid monster plunge its great sword into the altar. Instead of worry, his face finally showed a flicker of pure excitement.

“I KNEW IT!”

“I knew Gu Wanglan would use this move when he realized he couldn’t beat Mo Yuyan!” Seeing the sinister ritual array on the altar forming, He Yimo couldn’t contain his excitement. He stood up, his eyes blazing.

“Wangxue, did you see that?”

“This thing called Jian Lou…”

“It’s like this: Find a quiet, hidden spot, like I am now, and just squat down and observe. Watch the fight in secret, and see if the corrupted Gu Wanglan, pushed to the brink like this, will use some kind of self-destructive sacrifice as a last resort… an attack that might wound his enemy a thousand times, even if it costs him eight hundred… to heavily injure someone in the same realm, like Mo Yuyan!”

“Then… whether it’s a heroic rescue of a beautiful woman… or simply stealing kills for loot…”

“Won’t all the opportunities… just appear right here on our doorstep?!”

—