Chapter 37
Bang—!
A burst of spiritual light tore through the air—and the barrier shattered.
The suffocating pressure around Song Li vanished instantly. She clutched her aching chest, breath uneven, and forced herself to look ahead, trying to see who had intervened.
A tall figure stood there, unmoving.
His presence pressed down like a mountain—vast and unyielding—his aura locking mercilessly onto the three men in black.
All the arrogance drained from their faces in an instant, replaced by raw, unmistakable fear.
Don’t hurt my child…
Could it be—
Recognition flickered in Song Li’s eyes.
And then her vision went dark.
“Li’er!”
Qingxuzi shattered the barrier and had been about to cripple the three men, but the moment he sensed her aura collapsing, he moved without hesitation.
In a flash, he caught her as she fell, her body going limp in his arms.
Song Li’s lashes trembled. Just before unconsciousness claimed her, a single thought surfaced—
This… is warm.
Qingxuzi immediately sent a thread of spiritual energy into her body.
His expression changed—then darkened completely.
“…Damn it. Her internal organs are shattered.”
He fed her a pill without hesitation. Only after stabilizing her condition did his gaze shift—cold, cutting—toward the three men in black.
Killing intent surged.
The three men were already bound, spiritual chains sealing their cultivation. Panic twisted their faces, all trace of confidence gone.
They had thought capturing Song Li would be effortless.
Instead, they had walked straight into a trap of their own making.
Qingxuzi stepped forward and pressed a hand onto each of their heads.
The three shuddered violently.
A moment later, pain exploded through their minds.
“Soul-Searching Technique?!”
Their voices cracked with horror.
Qingxuzi didn’t respond. His expression remained ice-cold as he continued.
Then—something triggered.
A violent ripple surged through their sea of consciousness.
Qingxuzi’s pupils contracted.
A self-destruct restriction.
Without hesitation, he vanished, taking Song Li with him.
The next instant—the three men exploded.
Flesh and blood scattered through the air.
“Fellow Daoist… you show no mercy.”
A ghostly voice echoed through the void, lingering with an eerie calm.
“Fortunately, my subordinates are loyal enough to die for me. Otherwise… if you had learned anything, things would have become troublesome.”
Qingxuzi stood unmoving, his gaze fixed on the empty air.
“Those who don’t dare show themselves,” he said calmly, “are not qualified to speak with me.”
Silence fell.
Then—
“Since you insist… I’ll grant you the courtesy.”
The air rippled.
A figure stepped out from the distortion.
An aged face. Flames flickering along his head and shoulders. A dark red robe draped over his frame. And a smile that carried no warmth.
Qingxuzi’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Three Yin Demon.”
The man chuckled. “So you recognize me. Good. That saves time.”
His gaze shifted, landing on the unconscious Song Li in Qingxuzi’s arms, a flash of ferocity crossing his eyes.
“You’ll leave your life here today. Both of you.”
Qingxuzi didn’t move.
“You alone think you can kill me?” he said flatly. “Call the rest. I’ll deal with you together.”
The Three Yin Demon’s expression sharpened. “Arrogant. Let’s see if you can back it up.”
He raised a hand slightly.
“Heavenly Puppet—come.”
The space warped again.
A colossal ape-shaped puppet descended from above, its massive form looming like a mountain as it crashed into place, the ground trembling under its weight.
Atop its head stood another figure—the Heavenly Puppet Master.
He folded his arms, looking down with a smirk. “You fell for that so easily? No wonder the Master doesn’t trust you with anything important.”
The Three Yin Demon shot him a glare. “If you were truly valued, you wouldn’t be stuck working with me.”
He let out a cold snort, impatience flashing across his face. “Enough talk. Capture him.”
The Heavenly Puppet Master’s smile faded. His eyes darkened.
Qingxuzi watched them bicker, then spoke lightly, a faint hint of amusement in his voice.
“You two seem… very relaxed. Aren’t you afraid I’ll take advantage of that?”
The Three Yin Demon’s flames flared.
“Escape?” he sneered. “Do you really think you can?”
Before coming, they had already placed soul-binding marks on their subordinates, allowing them to teleport instantly to their location—a necessary safeguard.
Because if they failed… the Master’s punishment would be far worse.
A flicker of fear crossed his eyes.
Qingxuzi’s tone remained even.
“Whether I can escape isn’t something you decide.”
He paused, gaze steady.
“Besides… I never planned to escape.”
A faint chill entered his voice.
“I was just thinking about how to kill the two of you.”
The smile on the Three Yin Demon’s face vanished.
He turned slightly. “Tiankui. Didn’t you want a Nascent Soul puppet? He’ll do.”
Tiankui Zhenren looked Qingxuzi up and down, then gave a small nod.
“Acceptable,” he said flatly. “Just… a little old.”
Qingxuzi listened without the slightest change in expression.
“So… only the two of you,” he said.
His gaze lifted, calm and steady.
“Then come.”
“Arrogant!”
The Three Yin Demon struck first.
Three streams of yin fire tore through the air, screaming toward Qingxuzi’s face.
At the same time, Tiankui raised both hands.
The giant puppet moved.
A massive hand descended from above, splitting the air with a thunderous roar as it came crashing down.
The attacks closed in—and in that same instant—four overwhelming auras descended from all directions.
They locked into place, forming a perfect encirclement.
Qingxuzi didn’t move.
He simply looked at them.
“Now,” he said calmly, “do you still think I’m being arrogant?”
The expressions of the Three Yin Demon and the Heavenly Puppet Master changed at once.
Without a word, they retreated—splitting in opposite directions.
“Trying to run?!”
Elder Wei Tu roared, his figure bursting forward as he gave chase. Spiritual light flared around him, shockwaves ripping through the air as the clash erupted.
At the same time, Madam Hongyan moved.
A blazing fire python surged forth, its massive body coiling tightly around the giant puppet, locking it in place.
Meng Zonghan and Zeng Xuangan struck together, sealing off every remaining path of escape.
It ended almost as quickly as it began.
Silence fell.
Elder Wei Tu strode back, dragging the Three Yin Demon behind him like a broken corpse. With a casual flick, he tossed him aside and dusted off his hands.
“Not much of a fight,” he said lightly. “Barely warmed up.”
Madam Hongyan stepped forward and gave Tiankui Zhenren a sharp kick.
“Senior Brother Wei is as fierce as ever,” she remarked. “It took the three of us just to pin this one down.”
Tiankui’s true body had been hidden within the puppet’s chest—miss it for a moment, and he might have slipped away entirely.
Zeng Xuangan stepped closer, his gaze falling on Song Li.
“How is she?”
There was a trace of astonishment in his eyes.
She looked almost identical to Cen Xiaoyun.
Too identical.
Qingxuzi’s voice was low.
“Her internal organs are shattered. Stabilized—for now. We need to return and have the Medical Sage examine her.”
His gaze shifted briefly to the captives.
“They may have restrictions. Soul-searching is too risky.”
The others nodded in agreement.
Madam Hongyan looked at Song Li and quietly let out a breath.
They had made it in time.
Just barely.
An incense stick earlier, they had arrived at the Minshan Snake Cave—only to find it burned to ruins, empty of any trace.
If not for Zeng Xuangan’s tracking ability… Qingxuzi might have completely lost control.
Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to someone long gone.
If he were still alive… would they have had a child?
Her gaze turned toward the distant horizon—toward Yongding City. She lingered there for a long moment before finally looking away.
—
Wendao Sect. Dungeon.
Cen Xiaoyun sat in silence.
Three days had passed.
To her, it felt like three years.
After the first day’s interrogation, no one had come back. No footsteps, no voices—nothing. Only a suffocating emptiness pressed in from all sides, stretching time into something unbearable.
What were they waiting for?
She hugged her knees tighter, burying her face as her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably.
Then—footsteps.
Soft, but unmistakable.
Someone was coming.
Alone.
Her heart leapt into her throat.
The figure stopped in front of her cell.
Their eyes met.
Panic surged instantly.
“S-Sister Song Li?”
Song Li stood there, silent.
The memory of the snake pit lingered—fresh as yesterday.
She had thought she would be consumed by hatred, that she would rush here and kill without hesitation.
But now—her heart was calm.
All she wanted… was an answer.
“Why?” she asked at last, her voice hoarse, echoing faintly through the dungeon. “Why did you betray me?”
Cen Xiaoyun stared at her, stunned.
Alive.
She had actually survived.
Why was she always so lucky?
The fear in her eyes slowly faded, replaced by something darker.
Jealousy.
“Sister Song Li…” Her voice trembled. “You used to call me Xiao Yun. Why are you so distant now?”
She let out a weak, brittle laugh.
“But… you probably don’t care anymore.”
Her gaze sharpened. “You want to know why? The world runs on profit. Everything is for gain.”
Her voice grew steadier, almost defiant. “If your mother wasn’t a Nascent Soul cultivator… if you didn’t have a heavenly fire root… if you were like me—do you think you’d be where you are now?”
Song Li’s eyes burned. “So you’ve always thought that way.”
“Yes,” Cen Xiaoyun replied plainly. “What’s wrong with that? Cultivation is competition—against heaven, against earth, against people.”
Her lips curled faintly. “If I hadn’t schemed my way close to you and Aunt Wen… I wouldn’t even be at Foundation Establishment—”
“Don’t say my mother’s name.” Song Li cut her off, her voice turning cold. “If everything you did was ‘fighting for yourself’… then listen carefully.”
Her gaze sharpened, her voice steady and merciless. “In this fight, losing means one thing—death.”
Cen Xiaoyun fell silent.
The killing intent in Song Li’s eyes sent a chill through her. She wasn’t used to this version of her—this cold, this distant.
Her anger drained away.
She collapsed to the ground, tears spilling over.
“I was wrong… please forgive me…” she choked out. “I was bewitched—she made me do it. I didn’t want you to die…”
Song Li laughed.
A sharp, bitter sound.
“No. You didn’t want me dead.”
Her voice dropped, each word precise, cutting. “You just lured the snakes to drain my strength. Stole everything I had.”
Her gaze turned icy as it settled on her. “Cen Xiaoyun… you think you’re pitiful?”
A brief pause.
“In my eyes, you’re a thousand times worse than her.”
Her tone didn’t rise—but it left no room for doubt.
“I won’t let you go—neither you nor Yin Pipa.”
She turned and left, her robes slicing through the air.
Behind her, Cen Xiaoyun’s voice broke as it echoed through the dungeon.
“Sister—I was wrong! Please, just give me one more chance… I’ll do anything!”
But Song Li never looked back.
The dungeon fell silent once more, the echoes fading until nothing remained.