Chapter 50
The Thunderfire Pearl held enough power to flatten everything within a hundred-zhang radius.
Despair surfaced in Ruan Qingzhu’s eyes.
She stood at the very center of it—if anyone survived, it certainly wouldn’t be her.
Time seemed to slow, the world snapping into a cruel, unnatural clarity.
She saw the black-cloaked cultivator, composure cracking as fear bled through his expression. She saw her parents, pale and trembling, their eyes wide with helpless terror.
And she saw the one who had burst through the door—a tall, slender young man.
Thick brows, bright eyes, hair bound beneath a jade crown—handsome, even. A dark compass rested in his hand, his face lit with unrestrained excitement.
In that instant, Ruan Qingzhu loathed him.
Completely.
If not for him, she and her parents could have escaped unscathed.
Now—they would all be buried here together.
Grief and fury surged up, swallowing her whole as a cry tore from her throat. Even in death, she would never forgive him.
Just before the Thunderfire Pearl could erupt, a clear, piercing phoenix cry split the sky.
The sound seemed to descend from the clouds themselves, vast and resounding.
With it, a single azure feather drifted downward—slow to the eye, yet impossibly swift, as if crossing time and space in a single breath—arriving at her side in an instant.
The feather brushed the back of her hand.
In the next heartbeat, it dissolved into a ribbon of blue light, circling her pale fingers once before vanishing without a trace.
Ruan Qingzhu froze—then snapped her hand open.
The Thunderfire Pearl went still.
The violent fusion of thunder and fire within it had been completely drained, leaving behind nothing but a dull, lifeless bead.
A breeze swept through the courtyard.
The bead crumbled in her palm, soundless as it broke apart into fine ash and scattered into the wind.
Ruan Qingzhu lifted her head, her breath uneven.
If not for that intervention… she would have ended the same way—gone without a trace.
But what met her gaze was not a person.
It was a spirit beast.
An existence so beautiful it almost felt unreal.
Its form moved with effortless grace, wings the color of the morning sky unfurling wide. Long, ribbon-like tail feathers trailed behind it, drifting like silk in the air. Its eyes were deep and knowing, carrying a quiet, sovereign dignity.
It didn’t feel like a beast.
It felt… celestial.
For a fleeting moment, an absurd thought crossed Ruan Qingzhu’s mind—that even looking at it for too long might be a kind of disrespect.
The cry rang out once more.
The Azure Bird spread its immense wings—ten zhang across—and with a single, gentle beat, surged forward. A tide of azure light swept across the courtyard, and in the next instant, it hovered above them.
Sunlight dimmed beneath its shadow.
A heavy pressure descended.
Ruan Qingzhu instinctively took a step back.
The black-cloaked cultivator retreated as well, already seeking an escape, while only the compass-wielding youth remained where he stood, dazed, as though his mind hadn’t quite caught up with what had just happened.
[We made it—we actually made it!]
Two figures stood atop the broad back of the Azure Bird.
At the front was a woman in green robes, her posture steady, her expression composed. Behind her stood a girl in blue, relief written plainly across her face.
Shi Hua.
Lou Yuqing.
Recognition flashed through Ruan Qingzhu’s mind—they had met not long ago. So the Enforcement Hall had discovered something after all… and come.
Her chest tightened.
She stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Disciple greets Senior. Thank you for saving my life. I am deeply grateful.”
She didn’t know Shi Hua’s identity, but she could feel it—this was no ordinary cultivator. The feather had come from the Azure Bird, and the Azure Bird obeyed her. That alone was enough.
Her parents hurried to follow her lead, bowing again and again.
Shi Hua lifted a hand slightly. “No need.”
Her tone was mild—but her gaze shifted in the next instant, turning sharp as a blade.
Without warning, her sleeve snapped through the air. A surge of force tore across the courtyard and slammed into its edge.
“Trying to run?” she said coldly. “Did you ask me first?”
A figure crashed heavily to the ground.
The black-cloaked cultivator let out a choked cry, his body pinned in place, unable to move. His robe split open under the force, exposing his true face—hooked nose, high cheekbones, sharp and calculating features now drained of all color.
Whether that pallor came from years spent hiding beneath the cloak… or from the blow that had just struck him, it was hard to tell.
Lou Yuqing nearly cheered out loud.
[Finally caught this damn spirit beast trafficker!]
Her thoughts raced.
[Originally, Ruan Qingzhu was forced into a corner by him—agonizing for days before deciding to protect the little monkey and come alone to save her parents.]
[Her plan hinged on the Thunderfire Pearl. As long as he feared death, she could force a way out.]
[It almost worked—until someone burst in at the worst possible moment.]
[The explosion went off. Mushroom cloud. Everyone dead.]
Lou Yuqing exhaled slowly.
Thankfully… none of that happened.
Not long ago, they had already captured Manager Chen in the spirit beast garden. After extracting the dealer’s location, Captain Wei immediately led his men out.
Lou Yuqing hadn’t intended to follow.
What could she do there?
But when they brought the little monkey back to Qishan—Ruan Qingzhu was gone.
That was when she reacted first.
With the system as her cheat code, she blurted out what sounded like a guess—but wasn’t.
[Senior Sister Ruan… might have gone to find a spirit beast dealer.]
She hadn’t realized her thoughts were audible.
All she noticed was the way Ling Yunxiao and the others’ expressions shifted—subtle at first, then all at once—as the atmosphere snapped tight.
The next moment, everyone moved, urgency replacing hesitation as they hurried to find Shi Hua.
By then, Ruan Qingzhu had already been gone for some time. Even Captain Wei, fast as he was, wouldn’t be able to catch up.
But Shi Hua?
A Nascent Soul cultivator would have her own methods.
Lou Yuqing lowered her gaze, looking at the spirit beast beneath her feet.
No—not just any spirit beast.
This was Shi Hua’s natal companion—the Nine Heavens Azure Phoenix. A wind-aspected creature, famed for its unparalleled speed. Without it, there was no way they would have arrived in time.
Of course, a being this proud rarely allowed anyone to set foot on its back.
And yet—for some reason, it hadn’t rejected her.
…Well. Not exactly the moment to question good fortune.
“Senior… this junior is ignorant. May I ask what exactly just happened?”
The compass-wielding youth stepped forward and bowed again.
The excitement from earlier had completely drained from his face, leaving behind only lingering shock.
He was a beast tamer. His natal spirit beast had been stolen, and the compass in his hand—linked to its aura—had led him here. He had expected a straightforward retrieval.
Not… this.
Not nearly dying, only to be pulled back at the last moment.
Shi Hua glanced at him. “Let the one involved explain.”
“Huh?”
He blinked, utterly lost.
Ruan Qingzhu rolled her eyes before she could stop herself. If Shi Hua hadn’t been standing there, she might have already punched him.
“I was holding a Thunderfire Pearl just now,” she said coldly. “You barging in almost set it off. If not for Elder Shi Hua stopping it…”
She let the words hang.
She didn’t need to finish.
The youth’s face turned stark white. “The Thunderfire Pearl?!”
“Yes. The Thunderfire Pearl.”
The confirmation hit like a hammer. That wasn’t something to play with—it was a death sentence.
Cold sweat broke across his back.
“Senior… your great kindness, I will never forget!”
He drew in a sharp breath and bowed deeply to Shi Hua, his voice steady with sincerity.
Shi Hua waved it off. “Get up.”
He hesitated, then asked carefully, “Senior… may I know where you reside? I hope to repay this kindness in the future.”
He understood clearly—she hadn’t come here for him. He was incidental. But a life saved was still a life saved, and that debt couldn’t simply be ignored.
Shi Hua studied him briefly. “What is your aptitude?”
The youth stiffened, then lowered his head. “…Average. Three spiritual roots—metal, water, and wood. My cultivation speed… is nothing remarkable.”
Ordinarily, he wouldn’t feel ashamed. Three spiritual roots were already better than most.
But standing before a Nascent Soul cultivator—it felt insufficient.
Shi Hua saw straight through his thoughts and gave a faint smile. Talent mattered, yes—but was it everything?
Recent events within the sect had already answered that question.
She didn’t elaborate further. “Do you have a master?”
“…No.”
“Then come to the Wendao Sect.”
He froze. “…What?”
“I am Shi Hua, an elder of the Wendao Sect,” she said evenly. “Your character is acceptable. I recommend that you join the sect. Are you willing?”
There wasn’t even a flicker of hesitation.
He dropped to his knees at once. “Thank you for your recommendation, Senior! I, Yuan Chenxing, will not disappoint you!”
The Wendao Sect.
He had come here for that very reason—only to have his spirit beast stolen the moment he arrived, missing the Spirit Testing Conference while chasing it down.
And now—this.
A chance placed directly into his hands.
Shi Hua flicked a token toward him. “When the time comes, use this.”
He caught it carefully, as if it were something fragile. “I will!”
She had no intention of escorting him personally. If he couldn’t make the rest of the journey on his own, then cultivation was not a path for him to walk.
Lou Yuqing watched the entire exchange, a strange feeling settling quietly in her chest.
So this was how it worked.
One opportunity—and your path could change completely.
She didn’t miss the fleeting thought in Shi Hua’s gaze either.
The sect… wasn’t flawless.
And perhaps—it needed to start testing that.
A chill crept up Lou Yuqing’s spine. She cleared her throat and quickly pointed ahead. “Elder Shi Hua… what about him?”
On the ground, the black-cloaked cultivator lay stiff, still pretending to be unconscious.
Shi Hua didn’t even spare him a glance. “Take him back. Interrogate him.”
At those words, the man felt the weight of countless gazes settle over him.
And for the first time—his heart truly sank.