Chapter Eight: The Foundation Establishment Adept

Lin Ze had no idea what the two women were contemplating. He simply didn’t want his supplier of Foundation Establishment Pills to die in vain. Even though he’d already broken through to Foundation Establishment, one could never have too many of those pills.

It was just the Frostfall Leaf Sword style, after all—it could be practiced just as well in Xiao Village. Returning to the sect for the grand competition in three months wouldn’t be affected in the least.

As for Zhao Ling—

She could go wherever she pleased; none of it was his concern.

With these thoughts, Lin Ze continued to fix his gaze on Su Bailu, his voice soft: “Listen to me. If you don’t, people will die.”

“Tch, scaremongering,” Zhao Ling sneered coldly, her hand tightening around her sword hilt. If this vagrant cultivator continued with his insolence, she would show him just how deep the gap truly was between a sect disciple and a rogue.

Though they both appeared to be at the peak of Qi Refinement, she was confident he wouldn’t last thirty moves against her in a real fight.

Su Bailu was silent for a long moment before forcing a faint smile. “Then I shall accompany you for a few more days, Master.”

Her master, already advanced in years, had resorted to such lies to keep her—proof enough of his reluctance to part. She found herself unable to refuse.

“Su Bailu, are you out of your mind?”

Zhao Ling stared in shock, her expression clouded and uncertain. After a moment’s thought, her angry gaze landed on Lin Ze. The old fool had no sense—this journey was already going to take four or five days, and now, with a few more, nearly half a month would be lost.

For these prodigies of the East Mountain Sect, even half a month was enough to fall far behind. Even if her junior harbored resentment, she was determined to drag her away by force if necessary.

With that thought, she drew her sword with a clear ring. The woman’s voice was cold: “Old man, don’t say I didn’t give you a chance.”

Today she would be sure to teach him a lesson he would not soon forget.

“Senior sister?” Su Bailu’s expression changed, reacting quickly as she drew her sword and turned to block Zhao Ling.

“Step aside,” Zhao Ling said coolly and unhurried.

Her junior was a latecomer to the sect, her cultivation only at the late stage of Qi Refinement. The few techniques she’d learned were shallow at best—no real threat at all.

“He is my master,” Su Bailu replied calmly.

“Your master is Immortal Clearwind, not this shameless vagrant,” Zhao Ling said, eyes narrowed in warning. “If Immortal Clearwind finds out you have another so-called master in this remote village, what do you think he’ll do?”

Su Bailu remained unmoved. “I have never sought to conceal anything.”

Her conduct was upright; she had nothing to be ashamed of.

The two women faced each other, Dao swords drawn, and the tension in the air grew thick.

“I have a question,” Lin Ze, who had been quietly watching from the start, suddenly spoke, drawing both women’s attention.

A hint of confusion colored his face as he looked at Zhao Ling. “I’m curious—who gave you such courage?”

Before the words had died away, his green robe fluttered. In the blink of an eye, he was standing before Zhao Ling, reaching out to tap the blade of her sword with a single finger. The air was full of spring’s vitality, but a crisp, resonant sound rang out—a crack appeared on the Dao sword.

Zhao Ling’s pupils contracted sharply.

She stared up in shock, meeting Lin Ze’s cold, indifferent gaze.

“What are you doing?” she stammered, suddenly feeling an inexplicable fear.

“Who gave you such nerve?” the green-robed Daoist murmured to himself rather than answering, his fingers closing around her throat, his voice growing even colder.

Lin Ze wasn’t simply trying to frighten Zhao Ling; he truly could not comprehend what was going on in her head.

There was a faint aura clinging to the woman.

It would be easy to miss, but with careful scrutiny, it could be linked to that fierce, monstrous dog.

Much weaker now, but fundamentally the same.

A chill crept through Lin Ze—if he hadn’t run his simulations last night and had simply slept until morning, wouldn’t everyone here have perished in the demon-haunted mountains?

He still couldn’t figure out what had happened during those two hours of the night to provoke the demon king’s wrath.

Now, at last, there was a clue.

The culprit was Zhao Ling herself?

Being seized, Zhao Ling was both furious and alarmed. She struggled, humiliated and frustrated by the rogue’s terrifying strength.

Just as she was about to unleash a tirade, something caught her attention—her eyes widened in disbelief.

The face before her seemed much younger than yesterday.

From forty or fifty, he now looked just past thirty.

And the aura surrounding him was nothing any Qi Refinement cultivator could possess.

“A Foundation Establishment cultivator!” she blurted in shock.

“Master...” Su Bailu watched Lin Ze lift her senior sister as easily as a chick, her mind reeling. In just one night, her master had advanced in cultivation!

Yet this cold, indifferent demeanor was utterly unlike the gentle man she remembered.

Lin Ze drew a deep breath, following the faint trace of aura until his gaze landed on the storage pouch at Zhao Ling’s waist.

More precisely, on the small green bead hanging from the pouch’s string.

Suppressing the urge to end the woman then and there, he yanked the string free and turned. “What is this?”

Su Bailu studied it a moment, uncertain. “It looks like one of the sect’s specially crafted spirit beast beads.”

“Open it,” Lin Ze ordered, tossing her the bead.

“No!” Zhao Ling gasped, scrambling upright. Lin Ze inhaled sharply, then kicked her in the abdomen with a force that sent her flying more than thirty feet.

Blood spattered from her lips as she tumbled along the ground, her breath growing weak and ragged. Fury and despair filled her—damn him for trying to steal her fortune!

“Master...” Su Bailu, unable to bear the sight, was about to speak when Lin Ze cut her off coldly: “Open it!”

Pouring spiritual energy into the bead, a flash of light erupted—and a small figure appeared on the ground.

Its fur was fiery red, with two small, dazed-looking heads. It didn’t seem in the best of shape.

Lin Ze’s face darkened at the sight of the little dog; now he understood the source of the black cloud.

“What kind of spirit beast is this?” Su Bailu asked in confusion.

“This isn’t a spirit beast—it’s a demon,” Lin Ze replied, bending to gather the little creature in his arms. The young red dog burrowed into his embrace with a whimper, its body covered in grievous sword wounds.

A juvenile demon, with the potential to reach the Golden Core stage when grown.

“A demon?” Su Bailu was astonished. These creatures would never willingly accept a human master—how had her senior sister managed to confine it in a spirit beast bead?

“What about its parents?”

At that, Lin Ze gave a bitter smile.

If you ever see its parents, you probably won’t have a chance to ask.

He now understood the cause, but it did nothing to help their predicament.

The demon would still come, still show no mercy, and under its black cloud, the entire village would be reduced to ashes.

With no other healing pills at hand, Lin Ze thought for a moment, then placed a Foundation Establishment Pill in the red dog’s mouth. “Eat this,” he thought to himself. “Don’t play dead later.”

In any case, replenishing its spiritual energy could only help its recovery.

Cradling the little demon, Lin Ze felt helpless.

No wonder that if he waited three months to leave Xiao Village, the black cloud would never appear.

As long as Zhao Ling left, all would be well.

Her storage pouch was the very reason the demon was hunting them.

Had she captured the young demon and returned promptly to East Mountain Sect, Lin Ze wouldn’t have minded. The sect was powerful enough to bear the demon king’s wrath. But she had the gall to swagger back into Xiao Village in search of Su Bailu, giving not a thought to her or the villagers’ lives.

Blinded by greed, she was either foolish or wicked, never considering whether she could shoulder the consequences of her fortune.

If only her own death were at stake, that would be one thing—but to drag all these people down with her, she was beyond saving.

At this thought, Lin Ze’s eyes grew cold. His palm rose, a spring breeze coiling around his fingertips.

The woman lying on the ground suddenly felt waves of murderous intent rolling over her and was nearly frightened into unconsciousness.

After a moment’s hesitation, an image of a cold-faced middle-aged Daoist flashed through Lin Ze’s mind, making him pause. At length, he lowered his hand and sighed.

Forget it. Dealing with the looming disaster was more important.

Su Bailu watched as her master fed something to the young demon. She hadn’t seen clearly, but the action felt strangely familiar.

Was it a blue-green pill?

Probably just a healing medicine. It certainly couldn’t be what she’d instinctively feared—the precious thing. Who would ever feed such a treasure to a demon?

Just as she was thinking this, she suddenly spotted a black cloud rising on the distant horizon.