Chapter 92 "You hate..."
Shen Qingming had just taken a sword strike, and with the force of the recoil from his fight with the sect elder, he barely managed to gain a small opening.
Warm drops of blood dripped continuously from his chest, landing on Sheng Zhiyi's hand, leaving a sticky and glaring red stain.
She didn't have time to ask any more questions, she quickly grabbed his swaying arm, and the two of them leaped onto the longsword together.
The sword light streaked across the sky like a meteor, its speed swift, yet its trajectory was subtly unstable, occasionally veering off course.
Without hesitation, Sheng Zhiyi transferred her spiritual power, her fingers gripping Shen Qingming's arm tightly. The two streams of spiritual power flowed in parallel, striving to correct their direction.
She could feel Shen Qingming's body trembling slightly; the trembling came through his clothes and carried a heart-stopping weakness.
Looking up, his dark eyes were fixed stubbornly ahead, his face was ashen, his lips were bloodless, he was exhausted, and his body was weak.
It didn't seem like an external injury; it was more like a severe internal injury... What exactly happened to Shen Qingming before he appeared? He was clearly a carefree young master, so how could he be in such a sorry state?
The thought flashed through Sheng Zhiyi's mind.
She spoke urgently, her voice breaking in the howling wind: "This can't go on. You can't hold on much longer. Let's find a place to heal."
Shen Qingming reacted somewhat slowly, as if his consciousness was beginning to fade. After Sheng Zhiyi finished speaking, he waited a moment before slowly lowering his eyes. His thick, long eyelashes cast a shadow under his eyes, and he gave a soft "hmm," his breath so faint that it was almost drowned out by the sound of the wind.
Before he could say anything more, Sheng Zhiyi had already lowered her eyes and looked down, anxiously searching for a place to settle down.
To the left ahead, the mountains rise high and steep, with dense forests and lush foliage. The sea of trees undulates in the wind, and a thin layer of mist hangs over the mountaintops, its edges tinged with gold in the afterglow of the setting sun, adding to the ethereal atmosphere, making it seem like a fairyland.
Sheng Zhiyi's face turned pale, and even the hand supporting Shen Qingming stiffened slightly, her fingertips unconsciously tightening.
Unbeknownst to her, Shen Qingming's gaze was carefully fixed on her face, quietly scrutinizing every subtle change in her expression.
Qibao Mountain.
It was here—the place where Ji Fuguang's identity as the Demon Lord was first discovered. The chaos, shock, and heartbreak of that day washed over her like a tidal wave. She thought she had already let go, but now, the memories of him still almost suffocated her.
Is this a coincidence of fate, or yet another cruel joke?
But things happened suddenly. Shen Qingming was seriously injured, and his sword flight was already unstable. She was also adjusting the direction beside him. This incident can only be described as a twist of fate.
"Let's... walk a little further..."
Shen Qingming spoke softly, his breath unsteady, his voice weak, and tinged with a barely perceptible worry.
"No, this is fine." Sheng Zhiyi said decisively, suppressing the surging emotions in her heart. "The spiritual energy here is abundant, which is perfect for your healing. Let's go down!"
Qibao Mountain is indeed a place of divine beauty and spiritual energy. Shen Qingming is currently seriously injured and needs rare and precious herbs to heal him. She cannot let her own painful memories ruin his recovery.
With a flash of sword light, carrying a resolute meaning, the two of them plunged straight into the dense forest of Qibao Mountain, like two pebbles thrown into the blue sea.
Sheng Zhiyi looked back and saw that the sky behind her was clear and cloudless, with no trace of the Tianyan Sect chasing after her.
She felt slightly relieved. Fortunately, Shen Qingming appeared suddenly, catching her off guard, let alone the sect elders. As the two jumped onto the longsword, Shen Qingming also threw down a talisman of considerable quality to block the burst of spiritual light, which should be able to delay the attack for a moment.
It remains to be seen how long this stolen peace will last.
After helping Shen Qingming land on the mountain, Sheng Zhiyi, without even catching her breath, immediately looked for a secluded place.
Soon, she found a cave under a sheltered rock wall. The entrance was partially obscured by vines hanging down. Pushing aside the vines, she found the inside to be dry and spacious, with some dry, soft thatch laid out, making it look like the abandoned dwelling of some monster.
Sheng Zhiyi tidied up the haystack, helped Shen Qingming sit down carefully, and looked down to examine the wound on his chest. "How are you feeling?"
Her fingers, cool to the touch, gently parted the pieces of clothing around the wound to examine the bleeding. She was very close, her faint breath brushing against his skin.
Shen Qingming's body shrank back almost imperceptibly, then quickly stopped, concealing the momentary stiffness. His fingers were embedded in the straw, his fingertips curled up to grip the straw, his knuckles white from the tension.
“It’s alright…” His voice was still a little unsteady, but his words were surprisingly concise.
Sheng Zhiyi originally wanted to ask him if he had suffered any internal injuries, but seeing his condition, she thought that he might have something he was reluctant to talk about, so she didn't ask anymore. "Then I'll go find some herbs. You rest here."
She stood up and walked towards the cave entrance. After thinking for a moment, she was still a little worried, so she reached out and formed a magic circle at the cave entrance.
A faint streak of light flashed by like a curtain of water, then disappeared into the air. The simple concealment spell, though it couldn't stop a master from deliberately probing, could at least confuse the senses of low-level demonic beasts and passersby. It was better than nothing.
Looking back, Shen Qingming was sitting against the stone wall, his eyes slightly closed, his brows furrowed, and his thin lips pressed into a pale line, as if he was trying his best to suppress the pain. Fine beads of sweat had already appeared on his forehead.
Thinking that all the unwarranted disasters she had suffered today were caused by Ji Fuguang, she realized that she herself was already suffering innocently, and that she had dragged Shen Qingming into this mess.
Sheng Zhiyi couldn't help but sigh, "It's all my fault for provoking the wrong people and dragging you into this. I'm sorry... Don't worry, I'll find a way and make sure nothing happens to you."
Shen Qingming shook his head slightly, his voice low, "It's nothing, don't think like that."
Seeing this, Sheng Zhiyi said nothing more; words seemed pale and powerless at this moment. She turned and left the cave; the most urgent matter was to treat Shen Qingming's injuries.
The cave entrance shimmered with light, but soon returned to stillness, and the cave fell into a deathly silence.
Shen Qingming watched Sheng Zhiyi leave quietly. After confirming that she would not return, he suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, which fell onto his chest.
The demonic energy that had been suppressed around him could no longer be contained and surged out, instantly filling the entire cave.
The illusion on his face ceased to last, and the surface rippled like water, gradually revealing Ji Fuguang's original appearance.
He looked down at the wound on his chest, but instead of treating it, he pressed his fingers together like knives and plunged them straight into his heart!
The faint sound of flesh being squeezed and torn apart by external force was particularly clear in the silent cave, and blood oozed out, making a faint "gurgling" sound.
Ji Fuguang's face was eerily calm; if it weren't for the increasingly large beads of sweat on his forehead, it would have looked as if someone else were suffering such torture.
His fingers circled back and forth in the wound, his fingertips pressing along the inner wall of the wound, as if searching for something.
Finally, my fingertips touched a cold, hard object.
His gaze sharpened, and he suddenly twisted his fingers with force—
"Click".
Ji Fuguang's calm expression finally began to crumble. He raised his head, his neck arching in a restrained curve, his brows furrowed, as if he were enduring immense pain.
At the same time, the demonic energy emanating from his body gradually subsided, weakened, and eventually became extremely weak.
He held a jet-black demonic bone in his hand, turning it between his fingers.
He stared at the demonic bone that had been with him for many years. It was the most important piece of demonic bone in his entire body. His expression was very complicated, with a hint of nostalgia and a hint of disgust.
Finally, he slowly put the demon bone into his storage bag.
A glint of light appeared at the cave entrance, and Sheng Zhiyi returned carrying a pile of herbs.
She had a smile on her face when she came in, but when she saw Shen Qingming lying on the straw, barely alive, her expression turned panicked.
"How are you?" She quickly put down what she was holding, squatted down next to Shen Qingming, grabbed his arm, and tried to send spiritual energy into his body, but Shen Qingming grabbed her hand instead.
Sheng Zhiyi belatedly realized that casually sending spiritual energy into the meridians was actually a very presumptuous and impolite act. After all, the meridians are extremely fragile, and if one is not careful, they can collapse and break, which is a matter of fundamental cultivation.
Even very good friends rarely do this.
She had simply been by Ji Fuguang's side for so long, and Ji Fuguang would often reach out to probe her meridians and spiritual power. Unconsciously, she had already become accustomed to this domineering control...
"I'm sorry, Shen Qingming, I was in a hurry..."
Sheng Zhiyi quickly withdrew her hand. She could tell that Shen Qingming was reluctant to speak, so she stopped asking why his injuries had worsened. In any case, it was true that Shen Qingming had saved her, and now that he was injured, she should naturally help him.
She said, "I've found some medicinal herbs. Take some first. If we see any demonic beasts in a few days, I'll try to get some of their inner cores."
He handed a few spiritual fruits to Shen Qingming, who took them and ate them weakly and slowly.
Sheng Zhiyi then mashed some other medicinal herbs into a paste, carefully applied it to the wound on her chest, and then tore off a strip of fabric from her skirt and wrapped it around Shen Qingming's wound several times to properly bandage it.
"Are you feeling better? Would you like some water?" she asked considerately.
Shen Qingming reclined slightly, his dark eyes fixed on her face from the start, a deep and complex emotion churning within them. Hearing the question, he didn't answer, but instead said softly, "I didn't expect you to be so caring..."
Sheng Zhiyi was taken aback.
Shen Qingming seemed to realize something was wrong. He coughed lightly and added, "You haven't been down the mountain many times, but you seem very skilled..."
That's true. In this environment, her status is just a menial servant of the Tianyan Sect, and she's not even qualified to take on outer sect missions.
But the soul within that body had already endured much hardship.
Sheng Zhiyi smiled faintly, "Is this a good thing? It's just that with more trials and tribulations, one will naturally become more familiar with things."
If she had a choice, she would rather know nothing and just think about how to practice swordsmanship, how to sleep in for an extra half hour, and how to save money to eat a good meal.
Shen Qingming's breath hitched, as if a surge of intense emotions was welling up within him. He wanted to say something, but then he coughed softly.
Sheng Zhiyi quickly patted his back to help him catch his breath.
"You should rest and stop talking."
She got up to go out again to look for herbs, but her clothes were tugged at.
Turning his head, he saw Shen Qingming's fingers stubbornly gripping something. In the dimly lit cave, he raised his pale face, but his eyes were unusually bright.
"You hate..."
His Adam's apple slid rapidly across his neck, as if he wanted to say something, but hesitated and couldn't bring himself to speak.
After a while, Shen Qingming slowly lowered his hand and smiled.
"Okay, then be careful when you go out."
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