Chapter 111 Killing them all is an act of compromise.

The demon could not leave the mountain where she originally lived. Her demonic body was in the spring water, extremely weak, and anything outside the water was poisonous to her.

Shang He introduced her to a place where her consciousness could reside, allowing her to leave the mountain, release her demonic energy, and begin to gather her cultivation. She left only a very small part of her consciousness in her original body to avoid being completely unaware of any threats she might face.

The night was clear and bright, fireflies danced in the distant mountains and fields, and a young beast darted through the grass, finally stopping at the spring to drink. Its tongue barely touched the water before it hissed and jerked its head back, arching its back as if facing a formidable enemy, as if the spring were some terrifying monster. After a while, nothing came, its nose twitched in confusion, and ultimately it didn't drink, turning and running away.

The ripples stirred up the spring briefly dispelled the murky mist above, revealing something as white and jade-like as jade underneath—a perfectly round, semi-transparent embryo with faintly visible dark red veins. It remained still in the water as if dead, with several bone spurs growing from its curled-up back, connected by thin membranes that were not yet fully extended, making it incredibly soft and vulnerable.

As if protecting something, the fog condensed tightly, obscuring the embryo.

In Mei's dream, a kitten suddenly burst in, purring for a while, then jumped onto her shoulder and licked her cheek with its rough tongue.

The woman smiled and stroked its fluffy tail, whispering, "Don't be silly." The kitten understood her words, rubbed against her twice, and then jumped away, leaving her alone again. Mei wanted to chase after it, but found that the surrounding area was shrouded in white mist. Her body suddenly shrank, and when she turned around, what she saw was no longer an empty space, but a wide river.

The river flowed quietly, shimmering with blue light, and a chill swept over us.

She rolled up her trousers and walked into the river. The mist swirled into shadowy figures, silently watching her feet sink into the water, shivering from the icy spray. The shadowy figures swayed, and from the other side of the river, someone waded through the water, carrying a lantern to dispel the surrounding mist.

This was a young man with black hair and white clothes, tall and slender. Crimson feathers hung beside his ears, swaying gently like a bright flame.

The boy took two steps forward, looked up, and asked:

Where is this?

The sound of water suddenly intensified, with surging waves and the wailing of countless ghosts below. Several pale hands suddenly emerged from the water and grabbed the young man's clothes. She slightly raised her head, revealing a pair of pale blue eyes.

“Luochuan,” she said, “you are dead.”

Inside the room, the girl suddenly sat up, panting heavily. The familiar people beside her were nowhere to be seen. A wave of panic washed over her; she quickly got out of bed and hurried towards the living room.

As dawn broke, bathed in radiant light, the young man sat at the table, holding a half-finished grasshopper. His fingers moved nimbly, attaching the hindquarters to the little creature. Seeing Shang He emerge, she smiled and said, "I steamed some yams in the pot, and I also brewed some light tea."

Mei closed her eyes, surrendering her consciousness to Shang He, who had just woken up, shrinking back like a frightened wild beast. Their consciousnesses linked, the fragmented memories of the demon race intertwining with the boy's past life, weaving a strange dream that allowed Shang He to also see that deep abyss.

"Is that the world after death?" she asked Mei in her mind. When she received no answer, she first lifted the pot lid, took out the yam, and ate it slowly with tea.

Shang Ying looked at her, her eyes sparkling with a smile.

"Aren't you going to eat, sister?" Shang He asked.

Shang Ying said, "I've already eaten. Ahe slept so well. I got out of bed this morning and wiped your sweat, but you weren't even woken up."

This is a good thing, because the boy has very dark circles under his eyes.

Since waking up, she had never thought about—or perhaps didn't want to think about—how she had recovered. Shang He told her that the doctor in the town had helped, but Shang Ying remembered vaguely hearing the doctor say, "The disease has reached its incurable stage."

Recently, the boy she had watched grow up seemed to be maturing more and more, almost shedding the childishness that should be present at his age, and becoming thoughtful. Shang Ying noticed this change. She was exceptionally intelligent from a young age and vaguely realized that her younger sister had been doing something behind her back. But no matter how she asked, Shang He would only smile and answer with words like "I've been a little tired from collecting herbs lately" or "The villagers asked me to help out."

A lie that both of them knew about but was fragile, and neither of them dared to reveal it first.

After Shang He finished eating, Shang Ying reached out and cupped her face, giving her a big kiss. The boy smiled and buried himself in her arms, receiving several more kisses as she stroked his hair.

"What's wrong with my sister...?"

Shang Ying hugged her and said with a smile, "I just didn't expect my Ahe to grow up so fast. She can already carry her older sister to town to see a doctor by herself. I used to carry you on my back... Do you remember? When you were little, you fell and scraped your knee or got tired from playing, so I carried you home. And another time you were sick and your body was burning up... so I carried you outside to find a doctor. It was raining heavily then."

“I remember,” Shang He leaned against Shang Ying, his voice low, as if the sound of the fine rain still lingered in his ears, “I remember everything.”

Back then, my sister's back was so broad and strong. It was a place where she could lean on it with peace of mind and relax completely. With each step she took, her back swayed gently, just like the cradle formed by her mother's arms in her hazy childhood memories, but longer and warmer, supporting her through all the years of her life so far.

Her gaze suddenly fell on Shang Ying's prominent collarbone, and then she saw her skin, which looked exceptionally pale because it hadn't been exposed to the sun for a long time. Her heart clenched.

After Shang Ying released her, the boy stood up and said, "Let's go for a walk outside."

They pushed open the door and stood in the courtyard, a place they hadn't visited in a long time. The bright sunlight made Shang Ying squint.

The courtyard was narrow, but the old trees and the moss-covered well on the stone wall remained unchanged. The two walked slowly for a while, and Shang Ying looked left and right, feeling that even the familiar scenery had become new.

Her gaze swept over the seal on the door, ignoring everything unusual, and she thought to herself: Just a little longer.

No matter what happens in the future, I just want to spend a little more time with Shanghe in the present.

The two stood silently in the courtyard for a long time, until the hurried footsteps of several people passed by, followed by a shout—

"Someone ran away!"

-

"Your swordsmanship is too focused on killing intent."

With a few more people, the original two doctors finally had some free time. One was sleeping on a makeshift bed on the ground, while the other stood in an open field of grass, looking at the young man in white robes wielding a sword in front of him.

Before the young man, the grass and trees seemed unharmed, but Si Liuhua could see wisps of spiritual energy and residual sword energy.

As someone who had studied various martial arts styles, she couldn't immediately discern the origin of this sword technique. However, as someone who had taught others for many years, she could still sense that the killing intent of the sword technique wasn't so overtly sharp.

Upon hearing her words, Qiao Yanshen sheathed his sword, turned around, clasped his hands in a fist and said, "I hope you will not hesitate to give me your guidance."

His expression was neither humble nor arrogant, and he did not doubt the fact that the person in front of him was only at the Foundation Establishment stage.

Unlike the arrogant disciples of most sects, Si Liuhua nodded, pondered for a moment, and smiled, "Young friend, may I borrow your sword? My sword broke earlier, and I'll have to go back to the town to buy a new one."

Upon hearing this, Qiao Yanshen's eyes showed a hint of sympathy. She had been in the same situation at first, only having the cheapest iron sword to use, and it would break if she encountered a better magical weapon during sparring. If even disciples of a sect faced such difficulties, what about independent cultivators? Resources were obtained through scrambling, and opportunities depended entirely on luck; their lives were probably even more arduous than when she was an outer disciple.

After calming Yu Feng's sword spirit, Qiao Yanshen immediately tossed it to Si Liuhua. The other person's hands were wide, with long, slender fingers, and several calluses so thick that they couldn't be removed with spiritual power, clearly hands that had been wielding a sword for a long time.

"Young friend, I'm grateful to have you as my opponent."

She picked up her sword and, relying on her memory, practiced Qiao Yanshen's swordsmanship in her mind. Then, she lightly thrust the sword out. It was an extremely gentle strike, so light that not even a raindrop was visible. Qiao Yanshen was slightly taken aback and forgot to dodge, as if he instinctively felt that such a light move could not hurt him.

In the blink of an eye, his hair was unharmed, but a sharp, piercing, and bone-chilling cold pain came from the shoulder where the sword had passed. When he scanned it with his divine sense, several deep wounds had appeared on his skin, and blood was gushing out.

But her clothes were undamaged.

If Si Liuhua had been even more ruthless, it would have been only when his head was severed from his body that he would have realized the murderous intent that had been unleashed in his swordplay.

Despite the lingering scars on his shoulder, Qiao Yanshen was overjoyed and, forgetting all about healing, bowed slightly to Si Liuhua.

"Thank you for your guidance... I understand now."

Concealing killing intent within gentleness, like a long, continuous drizzle, yet capable of taking a life. Just like the frost-covered sword intent once displayed by Yan Xueya, where every snowflake could become a deadly weapon.

At the same time, it can be controlled and extended freely.

Si Liuhua nodded, returned the sword to her, and went back into the house.

"Senior Sister!"

Then Shen Lixia ran out, about to talk to Qiao Yanshen, but when she saw that her senior sister still had a large bloodstain on her shoulder and was deep in thought, her heart sank.

It felt as if the stinging pain of that wound was a million times greater than what he felt himself. The boy bit his lip and quickly reached out to heal her wounds with his spiritual power. The fine marks seemed light, but they were actually deep enough to see the bone, which was truly terrifying.

She took out some pills, pinched one, and handed it to Qiao Yanshen, saying, "Heal your injuries first before thinking about anything else..."

The young man paused, then belatedly realized he was being assaulted by lingering pain. He quickly channeled his spiritual energy to expel the sword energy that had entered his body and smiled, "Sorry, I was a little lost in thought."

"Don't apologize," Shen Lixia shook her head, "Just take better care of yourself, Senior Sister."

Qiao Yanshen couldn't help but chuckle—she seemed to have said something similar before, but now the tables have turned; what goes around comes around.

She asked, "What is it, Li Xia?"

Shen Lixia pointed outside, "I heard that a man slipped out; it was the old village doctor. The rest are dying, and the villagers don't know what to do. I think it's time for us to take action."

She sighed and said, "As we agreed last night, Senior Sister, you and Chi stay here, while I and Fellow Daoist Wangshu go up the mountain to find that immortal herb. Be careful, that old beast is very cunning, I don't know where he's hiding."

Qiao Yanshen nodded and said, "Let's go."

They did not fly on swords. The entire village was covered by demonic energy, and the spiritual energy was squeezed out and became thin, making it unsuitable for cultivators to stay for long. They also had to conserve their spiritual energy.

Led by a villager, the two arrived at the house. Shen Lixia was unwilling to go in, thinking that the inside must be disgusting, so she snapped her fingers and opened the door.

She found this very interesting. The closer the divine fire merged, the more Shen Lixia sensed the malevolent energy within it, and unconsciously, this energy also manifested itself in her.

A group of men scrambled out of the house, barely recognizable as human beings. Some crawled, some limped, and many had rotten limbs, wriggling out like maggots. One of them barely managed to step out the door, but when he looked up, he saw the smiling face of a young boy.

Like a cat tormenting its prey, she tilted her head with amusement, but her voice sent chills down your spine: "Congratulations, you've won the jackpot!"

After saying that, Liu Huo plunged his sword into its head, instantly causing the unrecognizable creature to burst open. Before its brains could even splatter, they were burned clean by the divine fire.

Upon seeing this, the others fled in panic, but the surrounding area was already covered with a barrier formed by sword energy. Before they could even react, they were reduced to a pile of minced meat.

Shen Lixia clapped her hands excitedly—she truly felt exhilarated.

She casually felled one of them. Shen Lixia's golden eyes were bright, yet they were like a cold sun, their light capable of taking lives. She plunged her sword into the man's throat and whispered:

"'Women should not teach, it goes against the natural order'?"

Between her flamboyant brows, a fierce aura surged like divine fire.

"Then I think men shouldn't be alive, they're in my way."

"Immortal Master, spare my life!"

The few remaining able-bodied people knelt down and begged. Shen Lixia was in a good mood and sheathed her sword, saying in a seemingly tolerant manner, "Sure."

She winked at Qiao Yanshen, who immediately understood and the sword energy dissipated in an instant.

The men were overjoyed and were about to leave when suddenly screams rang out beside them, and the smell of burning filled the air.

"You stepped with your left foot first, that won't work."

Shen Lixia smiled, then let out another scream.

"I find your clothes disgusting, I can't accept them."

Screams of agony followed one after another.

"You have a strange appearance." "You misspoke just now."

The last person, realizing she wouldn't let him go, collapsed to the ground and began cursing.

Shen Lixia looked down at it and said, "You're a man, so you must die. — Doesn't that sound familiar? When the same treatment happens to you, you know the pain and can't accept it?"

She simply burned the other person alive, before he could even scream.

"Go to hell."

Such an absurd excuse, such blatant exploitation—isn't this their usual tactic?

Only after her soul had been cleansed did she realize that her heart had become burning hot, as if on fire. —It hurts so much.

It really hurts.

How sad must Shang Ying be, who was forced to close his school, abandon his ideals, and be bedridden for a long time because of them?

Equality has never existed in this world; equality is simply compromise.