"What's the meaning?"

A sudden surge of intense unease welled up in Yan Shuang's heart, and a chill ran through her body, as if she were being haunted by some monster. She could hardly believe that the danger came from a little girl who was only a dozen steps away from her.

The girl looked extremely frail, with a thin frame and a pale face, like a pear blossom that could be easily broken by wind and rain.

At this moment, she tilted her head, a naive and innocent smile on her lips.

"What are you standing there for? Run!"

"Who exactly are you?!"

Yan Shuang composed herself, pulled out the long whip wrapped around her waist, and questioned him sharply.

The whip's tail struck the ground, sending up a gust of wind and raising dust.

"If you don't explain yourself clearly, don't blame me for being impolite!"

Zhan Xinjia shrugged, spread his hands indifferently, and pulled out a rusty little sword from some obscure corner.

She casually held the sword hilt horizontally in front of her, her eyebrows curving and her smile incredibly radiant.

"I told you to run away, but you wouldn't. Don't tell anyone about me when you get to the King of Hell!"

Before Yan Shuang could react, the sword was already hovering above her head.

Even such an old sword, covered in rust and seemingly capable of being easily broken, exudes a chilling aura that cuts to the bone.

The chill did not come from the sword itself, but from the person wielding it.

Hastily retreating to create distance, Yan Shuang gripped the long whip tightly, her brows furrowed, fine beads of cold sweat appearing on her forehead, her breathing becoming rapid, and her heart beginning to pound uncontrollably.

A chill ran down my spine.

How did she get so close to me?!

I didn't even see a shadow just now, how is this possible? How can a person be so fast?!

The wind howled, and Yan Shuang felt surrounded by enemies. She cautiously looked around and sensed that the weather was turning gloomy. The dark sky made the forest seem even more oppressive and eerie, as if something was lurking there.

Swallowing nervously, Yan Shuang sensed something was wrong and decided to leave.

However, as soon as she moved, a hand quietly landed on her shoulder.

She peeked out from behind the letter, her eyes crinkling with a smile.

"Hey, what's wrong? Didn't you chase after him yourself? Now you're leaving?"

"Get out of here!!"

Yan Shuang's psychological defenses gradually began to crack.

As a top assassin trained by the royal family of Nanjun, she has witnessed countless bizarre and bloody scenes in the past forty years, and has also fought her way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

But she had never lost her composure like this before.

This fear stems from the unknown.

She had never encountered such an invisible and intangible monster before. The little girl was like a ghost without a physical form, and no one could guess where she would appear next.

The long whip lashed wildly in all directions, the wind howling as it cut through the air, but it didn't strike anything.

For a moment, Yan Shuang felt like a paranoid madwoman.

If she wanted to leave, that ridiculously broken sword would silently press against her waist.

If she turns around and lashes out with her whip, there is no one behind her.

This is a complete one-sided mockery.

Yan Shuang gripped the whip tightly, her teeth grinding together, and could no longer hold back her roar towards the depths of the forest.

"If you're so capable, come out and fight fair and square. What's the point of hiding like this?!"

"Open and aboveboard?"

Zhan Xinjia, who was in the shadows, repeated those four words.

"I must say, it's a desecration for scum like you to utter those four words."

As a lowly beast, one should know one's place. What's with this self-aggrandizing nonsense? It made me laugh for no reason.

"you!"

Enraged by the other party's insults, Yan Shuang's blood boiled, but before she could even feel angry, she saw a blur before her eyes and a swift shadow, like a shooting star, rushed straight towards her.

Yan Shuang immediately felt as if she were facing a formidable enemy.

While trying to grab her opponent, Yan Shuang also had to concentrate on wielding her whip to block all the opponent's tricky attacks from different angles, but her blocking speed was no match for the opponent's terrifying sword speed.

The two exchanged blows for less than ten rounds before Yan Shuang was already at a disadvantage and struggling to keep up.

In a daze, a snap of fingers was heard, and suddenly a sea of ​​blood, like a sky full of gorgeous red silk, rose into the air. Several sword lights as powerful as lightning cleaved the sky and the earth, illuminating the world.

Blood and light intertwine to their extreme, a dazzling display of red and white—

The girl in white stood alone in the center of the sword shadows, her back straight. A breeze tugged at her sleeves, and her black hair, which was raised, resembled a black lotus blooming behind her. She looked down at the woman in black.

The flowing water is graceful and the falling petals are like scattered snowflakes.

It came with a chilling chill, and it left in utter loneliness.

Yan Shuang was stunned by the dreamlike and shocking scene, and in that brief moment, she suddenly felt a sharp pain spread from her face to her entire body.

He touched his face in disbelief; the veil was gone, replaced by a bloody, mangled scar.

"Ahhh!!!"

Yan Shuang trembled as she let go, her hands covered in blood. As if sensing something, she looked up sharply and saw the little girl in the spotless white dress sitting on the trunk of a tree, swinging her legs and eating wild fruit.

Seeing Yan Shuang looking over in surprise, Zhan Xinjia happily raised the half-eaten wild fruit in his hand and waved to her.

"Oh dear, why are you wearing a veil for no reason? I kindly etched the word 'cheap' on your face, so now you have a reason to wear a veil from now on. No need to thank me for a favor."

Yan Shuang felt as if a mouthful of blood was stuck in her throat. She was so angry that she trembled uncontrollably, but she knew very well in her heart that she was no match for the monster in front of her.

If we continue to contend with this monster, we may not even be able to save our lives.

Escape, we must escape...

Yan Shuang gritted her teeth, whipped her whip to kick up dust, and turned to run in a disheveled manner toward the only light shining through the forest.

Zhan Xinjia, perched on the tree, paused for a moment, then her smile deepened.

“That direction… oh my, that’s a great place.”

...

Yan Shuang couldn't even remember how she managed to escape that terrifying forest in a daze. When she chased after the little monster from Sifang Pavilion, she felt that the monster was about as fast as her, or even slightly slower.

But when it was her turn to be chased, she realized what absolute oppression meant.

The little monster was so fast it was like an arrow shot from a bow; the naked eye could only catch a fleeting afterimage. Like a ghost, it clung tightly to her back, never leaving her side.

Yan Shuang struggled with all her might to barely shake off the opponent.

As darkness fell, night quietly descended.

When her scattered consciousness refocused, Yan Shuang, whose legs were sore and numb from running, realized that she had somehow escaped to the riverbank. The cold moon hung high, and a large expanse of reeds swayed in the evening breeze along the riverbank.

She stopped and looked around warily, feeling a deeper sense of dread and unease for some reason.

She felt this place looked strangely familiar...

With a clang—!

A clear, crisp sword sound suddenly rang out from not far away.

Yan Shuang's heart clenched instantly.

She was breathing heavily, the blood in her throat pressing against her trachea, threatening to suffocate her, and her vision blurred. Her head throbbed with pain, and she stared in terror, her bloodshot eyes wide, toward the direction of the sound. Her pupils constricted, her face deathly pale, utterly bewildered.

On the eaves, under the cold moon.

The girl was dressed in white, as if she were bathed in the cool moonlight.

She sat by the eaves, holding a rusty, broken sword in her arms, her eyes lowered, her pale fingertips lightly tapping the blade, playing a song with the sword.

The clanging of swords echoed incessantly, chilling and deadly.

She murmured a long sigh, her eyes listless and dejected.

"The world is a whirlwind of activity, who is weak and who is strong? I will live my life with unbridled madness and drunkenness, a hundred years is but thirty-six thousand days, I will sing a grand song to the vast and boundless heaven and earth..."