A figure streaked across the sky, catching the severed head at the apex of its arc. The handsome cultivator cradled the grisly trophy, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as tears streamed down his face.

The scene was a portrait of devastating grief, enough to move a heart of stone.

Gu Yue, however, had no heart left for pity. She didn’t pause. She didn’t hesitate. She lunged forward, her sword driving toward the grieving husband.

If they were so in love, she would send them to the Underworld together.

“Bitch! I’ll kill you!”

The cultivator’s eyes went bloodshot, glowing with venomous hatred. Ignoring his defense, he channeled every ounce of his Foundation Establishment power into his weapon and smashed it down toward her.

Clang!

Sparks showered the forest floor.

But there was no stalemate. Gu Yue, already burning her life force, was swatted aside like a fly. She flew backward, crashing through the underbrush and slamming into an ancient tree with a sickening crunch.

Qin Lu’s expression darkened. She’s tapped out.

Bang!

He didn’t hesitate. Spiritual energy flooded his legs as he activated the Soft Wind Technique. He blurred into motion, racing to intercept the maddened cultivator before he could finish Gu Yue off.

Over the past few months, Qin Lu had developed a begrudging respect for the woman. She looked delicate, but her will was iron. He wasn’t about to watch her be butchered.

He moved like a phantom through the trees, his eyes locked on the enemy.

The handsome cultivator didn’t stop. Blinded by rage, he ignored the Qi Refining ants and dove straight for Gu Yue’s fallen form, intent on crushing her skull.

Just as the blow was about to land, a shadow faster than thought intercepted him.

Clang!

A black-robed figure stood firm against the blow.

Li Qingdu.

Moments later, a streak of crimson light arrived—Shen Changbai joined the fray. Together, the two Wuji Sect leaders drove the grieving husband back.

Behind them, three more loose cultivators arrived on flying artifacts. Lu Anchen was among them.

Qin Lu felt a wave of relief wash over him.

If Li Qingdu was here, it meant the enemy leader, You Ye, was dead. The mid-Foundation Establishment threat had been neutralized.

The tension in Qin Lu’s shoulders finally uncoiled. He slowed his sprint, weaving through the dense foliage until he reached Gu Yue.

She looked wretched. Her breath came in shallow ragged gasps, blood trickled from her lips, and her skin was clammy with cold sweat. She had pushed herself past the breaking point.

Qin Lu crouched beside her. “You alive?”

“Barely…”

Gu Yue offered a weak, pale smile. She tried to say more, but her eyes rolled back, and she slumped into unconsciousness.

Qin Lu caught her before she hit the dirt.

Her magic robes were shredded, the protective enchantments shattered. Large sections of fabric had been sliced away, leaving her pale skin exposed to the damp forest air.

Frowning, Qin Lu pulled a spare robe from his storage bag and draped it over her, preserving her dignity.

“Sis!”

Gu Can crashed through the bushes, his face twisted in panic.

Qin Lu stood up, making space. “Watch her. She needs stabilization.”

“On it!” Gu Can dropped to his knees, immediately feeding her a high-grade healing pill.

Qin Lu turned his gaze skyward. The battle was already ending.

His Heavenly Eye Technique confirmed the handsome cultivator was at the mid-Foundation Establishment stage. Under normal circumstances, he would be a terrifying tyrant.

But now? Besieged by Li Qingdu, Shen Changbai, and a swarm of spell attacks from the ground, the man was being dismantled. Grief had made him sloppy; he fought without rhythm, desperate to trade his life for Gu Yue’s.

Li Qingdu denied him even that satisfaction.

A flash of sword light severed the man’s neck.

The handsome cultivator’s head tumbled from the sky, joining his wife on the road to the Yellow Springs. A pair of tragic lovebirds, reunited in death.

Silence fell over the mountain.

The enemy was annihilated.

Li Qingdu descended, landing gracefully before Qin Lu. He glanced at the unconscious Gu Yue, his face unreadable.

“Is everyone intact?”

“Alive, at least,” Qin Lu replied.

“Good. Gather everything. We leave immediately.”

“Understood.”

There was no time for celebration. Li Qingdu’s orders were sharp and precise. The survivors scrambled to obey—looting corpses, retrieving their own dead, erasing combat traces, and dismantling the array flags.

Once the grim work was done, Li Qingdu summoned his flying spirit boat. The survivors boarded, and the vessel shot into the clouds, banking hard toward Wuji Market.

Inside the cabin, the adrenaline began to fade.

Qin Lu scanned the room. The cost of victory was stark. Thirteen cultivators had set out on this raid; only eight returned.

Four Foundation Establishment experts had become three. Nine Qi Refining cultivators had become five.

The four missing loose cultivators had been slaughtered by the couple that broke into the array.

Despite the heavy toll, the mood on the boat wasn’t somber. It was electric. The survivors were buzzing with the high of cheating death and the anticipation of fat rewards.

Except for Lu Anchen.

The young man sat alone in the corner, head bowed, shoulders shaking. He had learned during the cleanup that Wu Zheng was dead.

Qin Lu shook his head, feeling a pang of sympathy. Wu Zheng had been a mentor to the boy, practically dragging his cultivation up with pills and guidance. Losing him was like losing a father.

To his credit, Li Qingdu had ordered all friendly corpses collected and preserved with freezing spells. They would be brought back to the market for a proper burial—a rare mercy in the cultivation world.

“Everyone!”

Li Qingdu stood in the center of the cabin. His face was pale, his spiritual energy depleted, but his smile was radiant.

“A total victory! We have slain six Dragon Tiger Sect Foundation Establishment experts. We have broken their spine!”

He swept his gaze over the group, bowing slightly. “This dazzling achievement belongs to you. On behalf of the Wuji Sect, I thank you.”

The loose cultivators scrambled to return the courtesy.

“Senior Li, you’re too polite!”

“We were just cleanup crew. It was the Market Master’s power that saved us!”

“Exactly! Without Senior Li, we’d be dead!”

The cabin filled with laughter and mutual flattery. Even Qin Lu allowed a small smile to surface. His friends were alive, he was uninjured, and his pockets were heavier. It was a good day.

The boat hummed along, the atmosphere relaxing into post-battle banter.

Suddenly, the hum of the engine dropped. The spirit boat decelerated, hovering over a desolate mountain peak miles from home.

The laughter died out. The cultivators exchanged confused glances.

“Senior Li?” one of the loose cultivators asked, tension creeping back into his voice. “Why are we stopping here?”

Li Qingdu stood by the helm, his back to the window. The smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

“Don’t be impatient, friends,” Li Qingdu said softly. “I have one final surprise for you…”

Qin Lu’s hand drifted toward his sword hilt.

Surprise?

In the cultivation world, surprises were rarely good.