Chapter Twenty: Peril at Every Turn

Watching as Suhe's aura suddenly surged, Old Xiao was terrified, but he could not escape. Gritting his teeth, he resolved to fight to the death against his opponent. Even if he could not get away, he would not let this wretch take advantage.

He poured all his true essence into his sword.

Yet in an instant, the sound of cracking echoed. He glanced down, and saw the blade had already split open.

He was instantly furious, shouting, "Damn it, I'll fight you to the death!" Before the words had finished, he was struck heavily and sent flying.

Before he could recover, Suhe drew her sword and slashed through the air, closing in.

She spoke: "I care not who plotted this, but since you manipulated it, you must pay the price."

"Help... help me..." Old Xiao half-sat up, kicked desperately, and tried to crawl away.

"Stand down."

Suddenly, a delicate shout resounded as a palm in the void intercepted Suhe's sword force. The land trembled, countless plants were crushed.

Thunder rolled, dust billowed.

Old Xiao glanced at the figure before him, scrambled to his feet, and without caring for his own disgrace, cupped his hands obsequiously, "Many thanks, Palace Mistress Hua, for saving my life."

The Grand Palace Mistress landed lightly, casting a cold glance behind her. "Still not gone?"

Useless thing, can't even handle a trivial matter.

"Yes, yes..." Old Xiao licked his lips, his eyes darted about, then he bowed, grabbed his hems, and scurried away.

Once he departed, the Grand Palace Mistress turned leisurely to Suhe. "Is it not time to settle our accounts?"

'The golden needle's favor'—she kept it ever in mind.

"Then one must ask, Palace Mistress, which account do you mean? The five grades of tea, or... the lives lost at the Star Loft?" Suhe flicked her long sword, its blade suddenly gleaming coldly.

"Hmph, such a sharp tongue. Instantly you make me bear your sins, Suhe, you are naive."

"Every word you speak accuses me, Palace Mistress, which means you know this matter intimately.

You continuously mislead others, deepen their misunderstanding of me. Clearly it is intentional, having done so, do you still cry innocence?"

"Heh... Let me tell you frankly, whether you believe it or not—the Star Loft deaths, my Flower Terrace had no part in.

But you, you are the true culprit." The Grand Palace Mistress said, her gaze falling upon Minshu.

Artifacts of immortals are always unique; even if similar, their aura differs.

Those lives—all marked upon your sword.

"If you wish to incriminate, words are never lacking. I did nothing; why would I fear?"

"Fear not, so what? Can you explain it away? The world has many truths; those that make sense are sophistry, those that do not are guilt.

And you, have both." Suddenly she turned her hands, fingers flicked.

Threads of energy, growing in the wind, took human shape. Landing, they moved in pairs—four opponents.

Suhe felt bitter at heart; her wounds not yet healed, now faced fierce battle. Though she had pills, they merely suppressed her pain.

She had only bluffed to scare off Old Xiao, but did not expect the Flower Shadow to arrive.

And now, her cultivation surpassed Suhe's. If she wished to leave, it would be difficult.

The Grand Palace Mistress' eyes glinted with cold triumph, she shouted, "Kill!"

Shadows multiplied, palm winds thundered, four pairs of hands pressed Suhe with nowhere to retreat, no way to escape underground.

Suhe glanced about; cold sweat trickled down her back, but as the palms neared, she suddenly vanished.

The four were all manifestations of the Grand Palace Mistress, unable to halt their force, each struck by a palm and dissipated into energy.

"Did you think you could escape my eyes thus?" The Grand Palace Mistress swept her sword before her eyes, spiritual light bursting forth, instantly revealing Suhe's hiding place.

Suhe staggered forward, glancing back repeatedly. After only a few steps, she collapsed onto a mound, vomiting a pool of red.

She looked up at the path ahead, so near, yet he could no longer run. He had suppressed his wounds again and again, but could not contain them.

He forced himself upright, leaning against the mound, gasping as he fumbled out a porcelain bottle.

He did not care how many pills remained; he poured them all into his palm and swallowed them in one gulp.

Seizing the brief moment before the Grand Palace Mistress arrived, he hoped to recover as much as possible.

But before long, she was upon him.

"Run? Why not run?"

"Heh? Dead either way, what's the point? Kill or fight—come then." Suhe lowered his gaze, tilting his head as if awaiting death.

The Grand Palace Mistress paused, her hands gathering power, but hesitated.

So ready to die? Not his usual style. Previously, she thought victory assured, but he escaped with tricks.

She had suffered greatly; if not for her master's miraculous medicine, she would not have advanced further.

Now again, she wondered if he was feigning.

Just as she considered letting go, her gaze caught the pool of blood.

No, he was clearly gravely wounded, unable to flee, yet feigned so to sow doubt.

Heh... could I be so easily deceived?

"Stalling for time? Or waiting for someone to rescue you?"

Her thoughts exposed, Suhe showed no embarrassment, his cold gaze unsettled the Grand Palace Mistress.

"What are you implying?"

Suhe pushed against the mound, trying to stand. "Nothing, Palace Mistress. You are indeed clever.

My little tricks are hardly worth your notice."

"Enough nonsense, die."

She swept her sleeves, launching her palms.

Two streams of power roared across the land; the sky dimmed, all light vanished.

Within the palm winds, it seemed beasts roared, shaking him until blood flowed from every orifice.

Suhe looked up, hands raised in a crescent, gathering his true essence as a shield, barely holding.

"How long can you last, dying man?"

"Palace Mistress, your fortune is great; this long-lost Six Plum Gale Hound Technique, you have mastered it."

"You are not lacking either, on the brink of death, yet you still banter with me.

Where did you come from? Even after dying once, your temperament and insight are rare." The Grand Palace Mistress changed tactics, her little finger hooked, drawing down a thread of silk.

The blue silk whipped like a string, crimson light flickered, like a red serpent twisting through the air, carrying a foul wind, transforming into arrows that shattered his shield.

"Ugh..." Suhe turned aside, spewing more blood. Without pausing, he countered with a thunderous palm wind.

The Grand Palace Mistress raised her sleeve, true essence protecting her body. After the exchange, grass and trees were destroyed, but she remained unharmed.

She strode forward, "Is that all you can do?"

"Cough... cough... Of course not.

Celestial True Technique—Dao Unparalleled."

He drew his sword, no flamboyant moves, just a simple strike.

In a flash, heaven and earth surged, three lights broke through the dark clouds, converging on the sword, forming a beam.

Dust swirled, sword light intertwined, like a yellow dragon rising through mist, striking directly at the Flower Shadow's vital point.

The Grand Palace Mistress retreated several steps, eyes narrowed in astonishment. She secretly praised this Dao Unparalleled technique; even in the dying struggle, its power was shocking.

If he were in full strength, with her current cultivation, she might not prevail.

She drew strange runes in the air, instantly forming a transparent barrier.

Boom...

The barrier shattered, earth and sky shook, the Grand Palace Mistress clutched her chest, turned aside, and spat blood.

"You are formidable, truly formidable." No sooner had she spoken than she seized a strand of blue silk, drew her ink sword.

With deft manipulation, she pressed the hilt, the sword roared, its energy burrowing into the earth, sending thousands of earth spikes flying, each aimed at Suhe's life.

Suhe danced lightly, stepping on the wind, his sword weaving an impenetrable defense.

Yet each earth spike was unstoppable; every block injured him further.

If he did not block, he would die instantly.

"You injured me, so pay with your life."

"As you wish, Palace Mistress—take it if you can." Suhe suddenly launched a slanting attack. Sword shadows flickered, but he could no longer muster Dao Unparalleled.

His true essence was exhausted; his strength failed him, death's shadow crept across his brow.

"Need me to lend you a bronze mirror? Perhaps you could see your own wretched state—still stubborn, but what can that change?" The Grand Palace Mistress sneered, her sword like a swimming dragon, each move tearing the sky.

Her figure darted, appearing and vanishing unpredictably, revealing her intent to kill.

"Of course... nothing can change.

Yet a gentleman stands in the world, with things to do and things not to do.

To grovel and beg for survival—that is impossible.

I can die, but I will not live in humiliation." As he finished, a sword strike severed a strand of the Grand Palace Mistress' blue hair.

She froze, then flew into rage. "Courting death."

"Repeating yourself must be tiresome; let our hands decide."

"Arrogant."

Half-buried in the earth, yet still boasting—he knew no shame.

"We shall see. Shadow across bamboo, mist upon waves."

"Ink rain breaks the cold."

"Violet star in the void."

"Morning smoke, broken dreams."

...

Move after move, technique after technique, the two exchanged a hundred blows in an instant.

The more Suhe fought, the more chaotic his breath became. His sword hand trembled, nearly losing grip several times.

The Grand Palace Mistress had not expected Suhe to be so tenacious. No wonder Qingfu said the demon child ordered: if he could be killed, do so; if not, weaken him by any means.

Thinking this, her gaze turned cold. If not killed today, he would be a future threat.

She spun her sword, stones and sand flying, her figure splitting—several flashes, multiple shadows.

Each shadow moved differently, wielding killing moves or treasures, their actions synchronized, pressing Suhe.

Suhe, exhausted, barely managed to withstand the storm.

He wished to counter but lacked strength.

He blocked visible swords and survived killing winds, but could not evade death's grasp.

"Farewell, I won't see you off."

With a flick of her wrist, sword light swept across Suhe's neck.

A head flew skyward, blood rained in an instant. Yet she did not stop, sweeping her sword again, shattering the still-falling head.

The wind in the forest was chilling, beyond words.

The dust had settled, sunlight pierced the clouds and shone down...

The Grand Palace Mistress raised her hand, retrieved the ink sword, her scattered shadows merged back into her body.

She walked slowly toward Suhe's corpse, giving it a gentle push. "To force me this far, with your cultivation, your death is not in vain."

She flicked her fingers to summon a fireball, but was stunned by the scene before her, standing for a long moment, unable to regain composure.

The breeze passed, blood stained the mound—yet only a headless wooden figure remained.

There was no corpse to be found...